Chapter 19: The Dead River

When night came we were a long distance from the spot where we had passed the desperadoes in the darkness and we felt reasonably safe from any pursuit.

“Thar’s nobody in that lot that’s scout enough to trail us by our footsteps,” said Pike. “I guess they’ve swooped down on our old camp, an’ ez they didn’t fin’ we wuz thar, they’ve been scratchin’ thar heads an’ puzzlin’ thar brains ever since to find out whar we hev gone. I’d like to see some uv thar faces just now.”

Pike laughed long and heartily at the thought of the desperadoes’ disappointment.

“This will interrupt their air-castle building for a little while at least,” said Mr. Sheldon. “Meanwhile I think we ought to reach the second river that Pedro told about to-morrow or the day after at furthest, that is if we are on the right trail.”

“Oh, we’ll find it, never fear,” said Henry, whose sanguine temperament always made him optimistic. “Pike here says that everybody has both good and bad luck. We’ve had our bad luck, and our good luck is coming now.”

“You may be right about it,” said Mr. Sheldon, who seemed to be impressed by this view of the matter. “At any rate, a few days will disclose whether you are right or wrong.”

“Nevertheless we were a very cheerful company and hope possessed us all.”

Next morning we began a slow and careful descent along the river bank. It was slow and careful in order that we might watch the opposite shore, also for the tributary stream.

“If we are hurried and careless,” said Mr. Sheldon, “we might pass the mouth of one of these mountain streams without seeing it, for often they are almost completely hidden by a growth of trees and shrubs.”

Owing to this circumspection our progress was slow.

But the character of the country changed. It showed an increasing dryness. The mountains in the distance seemed almost bare, and, save along the banks of the river, all things were parched and brown. We were coming into a country which partook of the characteristics of the desert. But we were encouraged rather than discouraged by this circumstance. In a thirsty country such things as dry river-beds are most often to be found, and that was one of the signs for which we were looking.

When the sun was in the zenith we halted for food and water. Our mules grazed on the stubby grass, while we sat in the shade of a tree and munched the dried meat which we carried in our haversacks. I had just bitten off a big piece when I heard a hiss, accompanied by, a noise which sounded like the rattling of dry sticks together, and saw a large snake coiled near me. His head was thrust out from the centre of the coil and was swollen and ghastly with venom. I have a horror of snakes—an inborn repulsion. I was paralyzed by this feeling and sat quite still for a moment.

Mr. Sheldon, who was nearest me, seized his rifle and brought down the barrel heavily upon the coiled mass of venom. The serpent’s back was broken by the blow, but it writhed about in its fury and stung itself. We were watching it, when we heard again the sound like dry sticks rattling together, and Henry exclaimed, excitedly:

“We are attacked by an army of snakes! Look at them! look how they come!”

The sandy bank swarmed with the hideous reptiles. Imitating Mr. Sheldon’s example, we seized our guns and, holding them by the stock, killed the serpents or broke their backs as fast as they came. But the swarm seemed endless. The air was filled with their rattling and hissing, and the snaky smell made us sick. The slain were scattered everywhere, but there seemed to be no dimumtion in the number of the living.

“I don’t think it would be at all to our discredit to beat a masterly retreat,” said Mr. Sheldon. “I am of the opinion that we have infringed upon a corner of the snake territory, and we can well afford to abandon it.”

“Good ‘nough!” said Pike. “This is hard work, an’ dangerous work, fur nuthin’. Grab the mules, in’ we’ll scoot. Darn all snakes, I say!”

We snatched up our things, seized the mules by their lariats, and away we ran. Some of the serpents followed us a short distance, but soon abandoned the pursuit and returned to their own territory.

“Thar’s a stretch uv broken, rocky ground down thar,” said Pike when we stood upon high land some distance away, “and the snakes probably live in it.”

“Zen zey are welcome uv eet,” said Bonneau. “I do not want to invade ze domain of ze great American rattlesnake any more.”

“The reptiles down there are bad enough,” said Mr. Sheldon, “but you should see the bloated rattlers of the Great Staked Plain. I was once down there on a hunting expedition with friendly Comanches and we saw some of those serpents seven or eight feet long and so swollen with venom that they were as large around as my ankle. I believe there was enough poison in one of those serpents to kill every man in California, if it were properly distributed.”

“Then a man going down there could get some fine snake stories to tell, could he not?” asked Henry.

“But mine’s a true story,” replied Mr. Sheldon, with a smile. “I may have exaggerated the amount of poison, but not the length and circumference of the serpents.”

This aroused Starboard Sam, who began to tell some wondrous tales of snakes he had seen in the East Indies, but just when he was in the middle of an adventure bigger than any other that was ever heard of, Pike, who nad been examining the horizon, interrupted him, exclaiming:

“Boys, ez I live I believe that’s the little river over thar fur which we’re lookin’. Ef my eyes ain’t playin’ me false jest under the horizon on the same side of the river that we’re on thar’s another stream runnin’ into this one.”

Our eyes followed his long forefinger and we saw the faint line of blue and silver that he indicated. It would have escaped the observation of all except Pike had it not been pointed out to us, but even to our amateur eyes it looked like water.

We were agog with excitement on the instant, but Pike told us not to hurry.

“Ef it’s the river,” he said, “it won’t run away. An’ then ag’in, it might be one river an’ not the right river. Best not build your hopes too high, an’ then you’ll be saved a lot uv disapp’intment ef things turn out wrong.”

But though the cautious hunter wanted to restrain our hopes from rising too high, I could see that he, too, believed we had found the right stream.

We descended the hill and moved swiftly across the plain. I had recovered my strength so rapidly that I was now quite able to walk most of the time, and with the gold fever rising, again I forgot that I had ever been sick. On the lower level we were unable to see that welcome blue and silver streak, but we knew the direction, and we travelled steadily until the falling dusk, when we came to the banks of what we believed to be the second river, and which proved to be such. It was a small stream, just large enough to be called a river, and had rather high banks. It answered in every respect to Pedro’s description, and we had no doubt it was the stream he had designated.

All of us, except Pike and Mr. Sheldon, were for pushing on up the stream that night, but they would not allow us to go. They said we needed a good night’s rest, and it would be better to travel by daylight than in the darkness. So we were forced to content ourselves as best we could and wait. But the gold fever was still rising, and it was late before I could close my eyes in sleep.

Daylight was just breaking over the mountains when we finished our frugal breakfast and started up the new river.

“Whether we’re on a false scent or not is an important p’int, an’ it’ll soon be settled,” said Pike. “Half a day’s journey”, Pedro said, “an’ then we’d come to a rocky hill. Just beyond that wuz the dry bed of a river, up which we wuz to go half a mile, an’ then we’d strike the gold.”

“That’s it,” said Henry, “and the gold’s there and we’ll get it, never fear.”

We were all in a stew of anticipation as we plodded along the banks of that little river. Even the mules, usually so stolid and dull seemed by some mysterious influence to catch sparks of our excitement. They pricked up their ears and pranced along at a great rate. Finally Napoleon opened his mouth and gave utterance to an extremely loud and prolonged bray.

“He scents zee gold!” exclaimed Bonneau. “Napoleon ees one great mule, and he lead us on to zee grand triumph.”

Everybody laughed, but we did not cease to press on in high humor. I frequently looked up at the sun. Pedro had said a half day’s journey up the river. When the sun reached the zenith we ought to come in sight of the hill. Bearing in mind the words that he had said, I paid more attention to the sun than to the ground we were travelling over.

Up went the great round ball, sailing along the arch of the sky. Higher and higher it soared, until at last it hung directly over us and the noon hour had come. I looked eagerly ahead, but nothing that resembled a dry riverbed broke my line of sight. I felt a chill of apprehension. What if we had gone wrong, after all? But I said nothing, for the others, in their eagerness and anticipation, had forgotten that the appointed time had passed.

An hour further on and the river made a turn. We had passed the curve when Starboard Sam, who was in advance, put his hands to his mouth in speaking-trumpet fashion, and shouted:

“Land, ho! Yonder’s our port, boys, or I’m a Dutchman!”

Sure enough, about two hundred yards further on was a brown ribbon across the plain. It was a sunken bed of sand, and even the most inexperienced of us knew it was a dry riverbed. If we had doubted before, all such apprehensions disappeared now. Everything had fallen out so perfectly in accordance with Pedro’s instructions that no room was left for doubt.

In a short time we came to the junction of the dry bed with the stream, and turned and followed the former. The plain at this point was narrow and less than a half a mile brought us into rolling ground, where our progress was slower. From the summit of one of the swells we saw a black wall of mountain rising in front of us about ten miles away.

“Winter snows melting on those mountains fill this riverbed sometimes, I have no doubt,” said Mr. Sheldon.

We were too intent on the chase—for such it was—to dispute with him or to agree with him in words.

A few minutes further and we uttered a simultaneous shout of joy, for straight ahead of us, not a half mile distant, rose a conical, precipitous hill.

“That’s the last landmark Pedro told about,” said Pike exultantly, “an’ nothin’ can throw us off the trail now.” We quickly traversed the half mile between us and the hill. As Pike said: “We jest et up the ground.” There was no path between the riverbed and the base of the hill, but the bed itself, which had been baked hard by the summer sun, made a good enough road for us. We led the mules down into it and found that it curved around the hill just as Pedro had described it. The plain beyond narrowed very much, and there was a rapid ascent towards the mountain chain, which lay directly in front of us and only a few miles away.