Gold, Gold, in Cariboo! A Story of Adventure in British Columbia

by Clive Phillipps-Wolley

  CHAPTER XIX.

  "GOOD-BYE, LILLA."

  It was not Ned Corbett's nature to say much about what he felt. Likemost of his countrymen Ned was reserved to a fault, and prided himselfupon an impassive demeanour, suffering failure or achieving success withthe same quiet smile upon his face. The English adage "Don't cry untilyou are hurt" had been only a part of the law of his childhood; the restof it read according to his teachers: "and then grin and bear it."

  But even Steve, who knew Corbett as intimately as one man can knowanother, was astounded at the readiness with which, after one wildeffort to grapple with the man who had killed Roberts, Corbett had beencontent to settle down quietly to his daily labour in the claims atAntler.

  He could understand that his friend would take his own losses quietly.Steve, like all Yankees and all true gamblers, was a good loser himself,and didn't expect to hear a man make a moan over his own misfortunes,but he had not expected to see Ned abandon his vengeance so readily.

  After Lilla's incidental mention of Cruickshank, Steve began tounderstand his friend better. His impatience to be on the war-path againwas the real thing; the assumed calmness and content had after all beenbut the mannerism of the athlete, who smiles a sweet smile as he waitswhilst the blows rain upon him, for a chance of knocking his man out oftime before his own eyes close and his own strength fails him.

  "So! you've only been lying low all this time, old man, and I thoughtyou had forgotten," said Chance, when Ned told him of his conversationwith Lilla. "Great Scott, I wouldn't care to be Cruickshank!"

  "Forgotten!" echoed Corbett. "Do you suppose I am likely to forget thatRoberts risked his life for mine, and that Cruickshank took it--took itwhen the old man sat with his back to him, and his six-shooter hangingin a tree?"

  "No, I don't suppose you would forget, Ned. When shall we start? Phonand myself could be ready to 'pull out' to-morrow."

  "That would suit me, Steve, but I am afraid that you and Phon areembarking on a wild-goose chase. I don't believe in that creek of Pete'sone bit more now than I did before I saw Lilla's map."

  "That's all right, Ned; but you see Cruickshank believed in it, and sodo we."

  "Yes, Cruickshank believed in it, and in looking for the one we shallfind the other. That is why I am going."

  "I know all about that; but as long as we both want to find the sameplace, I don't see that it matters a row of beans why we want to findit," replied Steve. "And mind you," he added, "I would be just as gladto let a little daylight into Cruickshank as you would."

  "Very well, if that is your way of looking at it, we need lose no moretime. You are old enough to know your own business."

  "That's what. How about a cayuse?"

  "I bought one yesterday for a hundred dollars."

  "A hundred dollars! Great Scott, what a price!"

  "Yes, it is a good deal, but old Dad wouldn't let the beast go for less.He calculated it at so much a pound, and told me that if I knew whereto get fresh meat cheaper in Antler I'd better buy it."

  "Fresh meat! I like that. Has old Dad taken to selling beef upon thehoof, then?"

  "Seems so. Anyway I had to pay for the bobtail almost as if I werebuying beefsteak by the hundredweight."

  "Well, I suppose we cain't help ourselves; we shall only be stone-brokeagain. It appears to be a chronic condition with us. Let's go and lookat the brute."

  An inspection of the bobtail did not bring much consolation to eitherSteve or Ned, for in spite of the smart way in which he had been docked,he was as ragged and mean-looking a brute as anyone could want to see.Besides, he was what the up-country folk call "a stud," and anyone whohas ever driven these beasts, knows that they add vices peculiar totheir class to the ordinary vices of the cayuse nature.

  "He ain't a picture, but we've got to make the best of him," remarkedSteve. "So if you'll just fix things with Lilla, I'll see about gettinggrub and a pack-saddle. We _might_ be ready to start to-night."

  This was Steve's view on Tuesday at mid-day. At five o'clock onWednesday he was a humbler man, heartily thankful that at last he reallyhad got together most of the things necessary for one pack-horse. Thelast twenty-four hours had been passed, it seemed to him, in scouringthe whole country for pack-saddles, sweat-clothes, cinch-hooks, and allsort of things, which hitherto (when Cruickshank and Roberts had hadcharge of the train) had seemed always at hand as a matter of course.

  "Hang me if the cayuse doesn't want more fixing than a Brooklyn belle,"muttered Steve. "But say, Ned," he added aloud, "do you mean to startto-night?"

  In another two hours it would be comparatively dark in the narrowcanyons through which the trail to Soda Creek ran, and in two hours thethree travellers could not hope to make much of a journey.

  "Better wait till to-morrow, boys," remarked an old miner who had beenlending a hand with the packing, trying in vain to show Ned how thediamond hitch ought to go. "It ain't no manner of use starting out atthis time o' day."

  "I would start if it were midnight, Jack," replied Corbett resolutely."Once we get under weigh things will go better, but if we stayed overthe night in camp, something would be sure to turn up to waste anotherday. Are you ready there, Steve?"

  "All set, sonny," replied Steve, giving a final try at the cinch forform's sake.

  "Then just drive on. I am going to get the map from Lilla;" and sosaying he bent his steps towards the dance-house, whilst, one leadingand the other driving, his companions trudged away along the trail toSoda Creek.

  When he reached the dance-house Lilla was waiting for him, and togetherthe two turned their backs upon Antler and walked slowly away under thepines.

  "So then," said Lilla, "you will really go away to-night."

  "Yes, we are really going, Lilla, to look for your golden creek. Don'tyou feel as if you were a millionaire already? Chance does, I know, andhas decided to whom he will leave his estate when he dies."

  Ned spoke lightly, and laughed as he spoke. He saw that the girl wasdepressed, and wanted to cheer her up. But Lilla only gave a littleshiver, though the evening air was far from cold.

  "Don't talk of dying, Ned. It is not good to talk of. Men die fastenough out here." She was thinking, poor little soul! how very neardeath that gallant yellow-haired friend of hers had been when she firstsaw him, and perhaps death might come near him again whilst she was notby to watch over him.

  Ned looked surprised at her mood, but passed lightly to another subject.

  "As you please, Lilla. Where am I to find you when we come back fromChilcotin?"

  "_Das weiss der lieber Gott_," she answered, speaking half to herself.And then recovering herself she added in a firmer voice, "Either here orat Kamloops: most likely at Kamloops, if you are not back soon."

  "But we shall be back soon. What ails you to-night?"

  "It is nothing, Ned; but it seems as if summer had gone soon this year,and these great mountains will all be white again directly. I don'tthink you will get back here this fall."

  "Not get back this fall! Why, surely, Lilla, you don't think that wemean to jump your claims, or make off with your gold?"

  "No, no! of course not. I know you don't care for the gold, Ned, likethe other men. You don't care for anything like other men, I think."

  "Don't I? Just wait until I come back from Chilcotin and pour buckets ofdust into your lap. See if I won't want my share then?"

  "I wonder how long it will be that I must wait, Ned? I think sometimesthat we shall never meet again. Tell me, do you think such atoms as weare could ever find their way to one another, up _there_? It seems sohard to lose one's friends for ever."

  And the girl looked despairingly up into the great blue vault abovethem, wherein even the greatest of the stars are but as golden motes.

  "Yes, little sister," answered Ned seriously. "I don't think that suchas you will have much difficulty in finding their way up there."

  After this the two were silent for some time, standing on a rise aboveAntler, looking out upon the deepening gl
oom of the evening, Ned's heartvery full of tenderness towards the little woman to whom he owed somuch.

  It would have been so easy, Ned could not help thinking, to put his armround her and comfort her; but then, would that be a good thing foreither of them? The world was all before them, and the world was not allCariboo.

  "Come, Lilla," he said at last, "this won't do. The night air ischilling you. You must run back now. What would the boys say if theirlittle favourite came back without her smile? By George, they would giveme a short shrift if they thought that it was my fault."

  "The boys! Ach, what do the boys care? All women can laugh, and dance,and sing. One woman is all the same to them as another."

  Well as Ned knew his little companion, he had never seen her in thismood before, and his face betrayed the wonder which her bitterness awokein him.

  A woman's eyes are quick, even in her trouble, to note the effect of herwords upon anyone she cares for, so that Lilla saw the expression inNed's face, and tried hard to rally her courage and laugh her tearsaway.

  After her fashion the poor little hurdy girl was as proud as any titleddame on earth, and since Ned had not said that he loved her, she wouldtry hard to keep her own pitiful little secret to herself.

  "Don't look like that, Ned. Don't you know when I am acting. But,seriously, I am cross to-night. I wanted my gold, and I wanted to keepmy play-fellow too. We have been such good friends--haven't we, Ned?"

  It was no good. In spite of her that treacherous voice of hers wouldfalter and break in a way quite beyond her control. Flight seemed to herthe only chance.

  "Ach well, this is folly," she said. "_Auf wiedersehen_, my friend," andshe held out to him both her hands.

  It was a dead still evening, and just at that moment the horn of thepale young moon came up over the fringe of dark pine-trees and lit upLilla's sweet face, finding in it a grace and purity of outline whichthe daylight overlooked. But even the moonlight could add nothing to thetenderness of those honest blue eyes, which had grown so dim and mistyin the last few minutes, or to the sweetness of that tender mouth, whoselips were so pitifully unsteady now.

  "_Auf wiedersehen_" Ned repeated after her. "_Auf wiedersehen_,Lilla,--we shall meet again."

  For a while he stood irresolute. What did Shropshire or all the worldindeed matter to him? he asked himself, and in another moment he mighthave spoken words which would surely have marred his own life and notmade hers one whit happier.

  Luckily just then a wild laugh broke the silence and recalled Ned tohimself. It was only the owl who laughed, but it sufficed. Thedangerous charm of the silence was broken, and pressing the girl's handto his lips he dashed away up the trail.

  Steve Chance and Phon had made nearly four miles and begun to pitch campwhilst he was getting that map.