Young Edwin Inwood leaped down from the small tree in which he had been perched for the last half hour, and ran swiftly toward the where his elder brother, George, and a large negro named Jim Tubbs, were waiting, ever and anon raising their heads, and looking towards the boy who was as sentinel, several hundred yards away, as if they were expecting some such an alarm as this.
“Quick! they’ll soon be here!” he added in his terrible excitement.
“How many are there?” inquired George, up his at the same time with his rifle.
“I shouldn’t wonder if there were twenty. I’m sure I saw a dozen, any way.”
“More likely dar’s a tousand!” angrily exclaimed Jim, his together, preparatory to making a move. “Dis yer’s a nonsince—jest as we gits in among de gold, dem Injins has to ’gin dar tricks.”
“Hurry, Jim,” the young man, beginning to grow nervous. “It won’t do to be caught here.”
“Dey hain’t cotched dis pusson yit, an’ if dey undertooks it, somebody’ll git hurt. I can swing dat pick kind o’[10] loose when I makes up my mind to do so. I’s ready—now whar does ye pitch to?”
“Into the , of course.”
George Inwood, loaded down with his gun and implements, hurried up the channel of the brook, for several hundred feet, and then, making a sudden to the right, disappeared as as if the earth had opened and swallowed him. The next moment, his brother Edwin, a lad some fifteen years of age—whisked after him, and then Jim came along, somewhat after the manner of an ox, when off his usual walk.
“Dis yer’s !” he muttered, not to look behind him to see whether the aborigines were visible, “I never did like to , s’pecially when an Ingin was drivin’ me, an’ only does it to please de boys.”
“Come, Jim, move faster!” called the voice of George Inwood from some point.
“Yas, yas, I’s dar!”——
Further was cut short, for at this instant the indignant African was seized by the ankle with such force, that he fell upon his back, and, despite his struggles and threats of punishment, was quickly out of sight and hearing.
This was scarcely done, when a dozen Mohave Indians over the of rocks and trees which bounded the northern part of the stream, and here and there in quest of the gold hunters, whom they had been watching from a distance nearly all the afternoon. Each of them was armed with a gun, several displayed tomahawks and knives at their girdles, while the majority had large, beautifully woven and blankets thrown over their shoulders.
Running hither and , their sharp black eyes in every direction, they could not be long without discovering traces of the interlopers. A sort of halloo, something like the of a large dog, when a cow flings him over the fence, told that one of the dusky scamps were on the trail. Immediately the whole pack up the channel, and the next moment, had halted before the mouth of a cave, the entrance being of sufficient width to admit the[11] passage of an ordinary sized man; but just now a large prevented their ingress.
Certain that the gold hunters were here, and were within their power, the Mohaves indulged in a , skip, and dance around the cave, flinging their arms aloft, and shouting continually in their wild, outlandish tongue. When their clamor had somewhat , a gruff voice from within the cave was heard.
“Hullo! dar I say! Hullo! I say! Can’t yese keep yer clacks still a minnit when a gemman wishes to speak?”
The singular source and sound of the human voice had the desired effect, and instant silence fell upon all.
“Am dar any ob yous dat English? If dar am, please to signify it by sayin’ so, an’ if dar ain’t, also signify dat by obsarvin’ de same sign.”
Jim waited several minutes for a reply, but, receiving none, he became more indignant, and was about to burst out in a against them, when George Inwood ventured to suggest that, as in all probability they could not speak the English language, as a matter of course, they were deprived of the ability of saying so.
“But dey orter to know ’nough to say no—any fool know dat,” persisted the African.
“But how can they understand what you say?”
“Clar—didn’t tink ob dat. What am we to do?”
“Defend ourselves—that is all that is left us.”
“I’ll go take a look at dem,” said Jim, beginning to creep along the passage toward the mouth of the cave.
“I insist that you be more careful in your dealings with them. You ought to know what a and untrustworthy set of people they are.”
Jim promised caution, as he always did in such matters, and Inwood kept close to him to see that he fulfilled his pledge. Reaching the mouth of the cave, the African gave a sneeze to proclaim his presence, emitted with such explosive , that the Mohaves gathered around, startled as though the ground beneath them had suddenly reddened with heat. They a few steps, and then waited with some anxiety for the next .
Jim Tubbs had a voice, composed half-in-half of those tones which are heard when a huge saw is being filed, and that which is made by the of the distant thunder. The mixture made from these, it may safely be said, was terrific and rather trying to a sensitive man’s nerves; and, as he was in rather an indignant mood on the present occasion, when he called to the Mohaves, it was more forcibly than politely.
“What does yer want?”
When a person has reason to believe that the one whom he is addressing has difficulty in understanding his words, he seems to think the trouble can be overcome by increasing the loudness of his tone. Jim repeated his question each time with greater force, until the last demand partook more of the nature of a than anything else.
By this time, the aborigines had obtained a good view of the black face, cautiously presenting itself at the opening made by the partial withdrawing of the stone, and one of them, laying down his gun and knife, as an earnest of his pacific intention, advanced to the entrance of the cave, and reached out his hand.
“Take it, Jim,” whispered Inwood, “he means that as an offering of good will.”
“I hope yer am well,” remarked Jim, as he thrust his immense through the opening. “I is purty well, an’ so am all ob us—gorry nation! what am yer at?”
The Mohave had suddenly seized the hand of the negro in both his own with tremendous force, and was now pulling with such astonishing power as slowly to drag the unsuspicious African forward.
“I tell ye let go!” shouted the latter, “it won’t do! Wal, if ye wants to pull wid dis chile, why pull, an’ see who am de best feller!”
Inwood, in his for the safety of the negro, seized his leg, and endeavored with his utmost strength to stay his forcible departure, observing which, the gentleman in dispute turned his head:
“Nebber mind, George, nebber mind if dem darkeys
[Transcriber’s Note: Several lines of text are missing from the original here due to a printer’s error]
Jim was six feet three inches in height, and along his limbs was deposited an enormous quantity of muscle almost as hard as the bone itself; he was not quick, but he was a man of strength, and when he chose to exert it, there were few living men who could withstand it. If there could ever be a suitable occasion to exert it, that occasion was the present.
And Jim did call it into play. Closing his great fingers around the hand of the Mohave, he held it as firmly as if it were thrust into the of a Numidian lion, and then his feet against the sides of the , he said:
“Now, my ’spectable friend, you pull an’ I’ll pull.”
At the first of that muscular arm, the Mohave was drawn a foot forward; and, in dreadful alarm, he uttered a cry which brought several of his companions to his relief, and they, seizing him by his lower limbs, pulled as in the opposite direction.
“If yer gets dis feller back agin, I tinks he’ll be about a foot taller,” muttered Jim, as he gave another with the hapless aborigine, which jerked not only him forward, but those who were clinging fast to his . They, in turn, united in a “long pull, a strong pull, and a pull altogether,” with no effect, except to give the subject under debate a terrific strain.
“Yeave ho! here ye go!”
And with amazing power, Jim Tubbs drew the Mohave clear into the cave, beyond all reach from his companions.