Boy With the U.S. Miners

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER XII

  A SIBERIAN FILIBUSTER

  By July, Chukalook Bank was humming with noise. The clank ofmachinery, the pounding of stamp mills, and the grinding smash ofgiant jets of water driven from hydraulic nozzles, set vibrating thetiny islands on the borders of the Arctic Ocean.

  The terns and gulls, driven from their century-old refuge, circledover the little spot of land with shrill cries and fled to nest onIngalook; polar bears, who, in other seasons, had found a dinner offat seal on Chukalook, swam toward the island from floating cakes ofice, and then retreated hurriedly; the sea otter, shyest of all thefur-bearing creatures of the world, sped to more isolated haunts.

  The island itself was melting like a snowbank beneath a summer sun. Athree-inch jet of water, immeasurably more powerful than the forcefulspout that hisses from a fire-engine hose, roared vengefully nightand day against the gravel bank, and ate away the hill.

  The never-ceasing torrent of gravel and boulders, mingled with thewater, rattled and rumbled downwards with the force of the currentinto a massive sluice. The bottom of this sluice was constructed ofpaving blocks, crossed with copper-plated riffles of tremendousstrength, on which not less than two tons of mercury had been placed.

  Thus considered, the installation of the Bull Mine--as Jim insistedthat it should be called--was but a simple miners' sluice on anenormous scale. It was the same device as that which Jim's father andhis partners were working on the Carson River when the Comstock Lodewas discovered, save that the hydraulic jet performed all the work ofdigging and shoveling the pay dirt into the sluice.

  Shortly before reaching the sea, however, the works became morecomplicated. The "Wizard" and Owens--one with Arctic and the otherwith Australian and South African experience--had arranged a system ofseparating the gold bearing gravel from the bowlders, and, later, theunproductive material from that which contained the precious metal.The smaller, gold-bearing part was washed into the stamp-mills, whichworked incessantly, and which reduced pebbles and grit and sand andgold to a pasty slime. This, in turn, was led to cyanide tanks. Thusevery particle of the gold was extracted.

  Hydraulicking was not altogether new to Jim. He had seen it done on agiant scale, as in California during the seventies, when hugereservoirs and mile-long canals were built at a cost of many millions.Vast works these, belonging to a short and strange era of mining,immense constructions, now lying ruined and abandoned in the desertsof their own making.

  That was before the farmers and fruit-growers of California hadsucceeded, in 1884, in securing the passage of a law to prevent"slicking," as hydraulicking was termed. It was time! Vast stretchesof territory were being reduced to chaos by the appalling havoc whichfollows hydraulic operations on a large scale.

  Many rivers were entirely choked by debris from the crumbled mountainsand spread their waters in destructive floods. On one small streamalone, the Lower Yuba, over 16,000 acres of high-grade farm lands werereduced to a condition which an official investigator for the statedeclared "could not have been surpassed by tornado, flood, earthquake,and volcano combined."

  HYDRAULICKING IN COLORADO.

  The "Snowstorm Placer," a typical modern pay-gravel plant.

  _From "The Business of Mining," by A. J. Hoskins. J. B. Lippincott &Co._]

  AMERICA'S "GOLD-SHIP" AT WORK.

  Dredge operating in Yuba Consolidated Gold Fields, California.

  _From "The Business of Mining," by A. J. Hoskins. J. B. Lippincott &Co._]

  Before the farmers had succeeded in stopping the hydraulic miners, astretch of land, larger than all the territory devastated by the WorldWar, was rendered a hideous desolation forever incapable ofsettlement. Ten years of hydraulicking had brought more than$150,000,000 in gold dust to the mining interests, but had caused aperpetual damage that ten times that sum could not repay.

  In every civilized country, to-day, hydraulicking is forbidden, excepton a small scale. It is only permitted in such cases and under suchconditions that the mining company can dispose of the tailings withoutinjury to property holders further down the stream.

  The "gold ship" has taken the place of the hydraulic jet and thesluice. It is a weird device! It is nothing more or less than adredge, floating in a lake of water--maybe in the middle of adesert--which, as it moves along, moves its own lake with it. Itdredges, washes, and separates hundreds of tons of sand or gravel withthe same water in which it floats, using the water over and overagain. By law, the tailings which it leaves behind must be leveled,soil placed thereon and either grass or trees planted. Thus the goldship advances over dry land, chewing its own way forward, and remakingthe land it leaves behind.

  On Chukalook Bank, however, hydraulicking was permissible. There wereno farm lands to be spoiled. There were no rivers to be choked up. Thetailings and the refuse could do no harm. On the contrary, byemploying the forces of the current descending in the sluice, the"Wizard" operated a narrow-gauge tramway on an endless chain, and thetailings were emptied into cars which ran out to sea, making their ownland as they went. The cars had a dumping device, and needed but oneman to tip them. Thus little by little, a natural breakwater crept outseawards, forming a harbor in which ships could ride in safety.

  As the "Wizard" had anticipated, Owens had become as enthusiasticafter the value of the mine had been demonstrated as he had beencoldly critical before. The lure of gold caught him anew, and heinvested capital freely. He was an excellent business man and a goodjudge of men. Besides paying Juneau a large salary as superintendentand mine engineer, he had shrewdly put several shares of stock in the"Wizard's" name, thus ensuring his most hearty support.

  Moreover, Owens had learned to appreciate Jameine. He had found outthat the girl had taken courses in the business side of minemanagement as well as in the technical branches, and though herknowledge was theoretical only, it was sound. With her he coulddiscuss detailed questions of book-keeping and the like, which onlyannoyed the mining expert. Accordingly, Owens appointed Jameine hispersonal representative, thus securing Jim's loyalty forever. Thisdone, he returned to his coal mine in Ohio, leaving the "Wizard" incharge.

  Otto had been made foreman, and, though he constantly related to themen under him how different were the ways of coal-mines, he wasinordinately proud of his position. He was able to do that mostimportant of all things in mine labor--to keep the workmen satisfiedat their work without raising wages to the point where profit ceases.

  Anton, despite his first objection to the country, had become ahero-worshipper of Jim. He had a new ambition. He desired, above allthings, to reach the sublime height of being regarded as a"sour-dough." The boy had shown a certain natural quickness formechanics, and, while on the yacht, had chummed up with the wirelessoperator of the _Bunting_. Capt. Robertson, on his second trip, hadbrought with him a small wireless outfit, which the operator installedon the highest point of Chukalook and taught Anton to handle.

  Clem took the place of assistant to the "Wizard." His small knowledgeof geology--though it was mainly of coal seams--was of service, andthe young fellow was quick to learn. But the principal attraction tohim, on the island, was "Bull's little gal."

  Jim was the life and soul of the mine. He was here, there, andeverywhere. The workmen, especially those who were "sour-doughs"themselves, found a keen pleasure in the thought that a man likethemselves had thus made good. It fed the fuel of hope which flames sobrilliantly in the Frozen North.

  A typical gold prospector, all the complicated machinery of his ownmine meant little to him. Jameine understood it all and did her bestto explain it to him, but Jim could not be persuaded to take aninterest in it.

  One day he turned his back on the works. With pick, shovel, and pan,he set off to the other side of the island, where the little creekran, and where he had first panned gold on Chukalook, before he beganprospecting the gravel. Once more, from early morning to late evening,he dug and panned as of old. Each night he returned triumphantly withhalf a handful of gold dust as the fruit of his day's t
oil.

  Jameine did not have the heart to point out to him that, with the BullMine running at full blast, his share of the profits brought him morewealth in an hour than did a week's laborious panning of the sands ofthe little creek. She knew that Jim could have no greater happinessthan, at the end of the day's work, to add a few more grains of golddust to the growing heap that rested, in a bowl, openly exposed, on arough table in her tiny sitting room.

  But this peaceful exploitation of Chukalook was not to continueuninterruptedly.

  One morning, the smoke of a good-sized steamer was seen on thehorizon. She came, not from the direction of Ingalook, as the_Bunting_ and the supply steamers came, but from the Russian island tothe south-west.

  Jim, busily panning on the creek, was the first to see her. He droppedhis tools and hurried to the power house.

  "There's trouble coming, 'Wizard'!" he said briefly, and pointed tothe steamer.

  "You mean she's Russian? It's likely enough, then," was the gravereply. "Though I don't know that they can do much."

  "They chucked me off here, once!" the old prospector remarked,revengefully.

  "They'll have their hands full doing it a second time! Counting allthe workmen, we've a pretty strong gang here, Jim. And most of the menwould fight."

  The steamer drew nearer, and the mining expert went into the house forhis field-glasses.

  Presently she was close enough for the glass to reveal an unusuallylarge number of men on her deck. There was a more sinister omenstill--a six-inch gun in her bow!

  "A converted cruiser! H'm, this looks serious, Jim! Send Anton here,on the run."

  The boy came instantly.

  The "Wizard" shot out his orders.

  "Get to the mess-tent as quick as you know how and grab some food. Geta gun and some ammunition. Then climb up to the wireless station rightaway. If I blow one blast on the engine-house whistle, don't pay anyattention. If there are two long blasts, you can come back. But if youhear a succession of short, sharp blasts, be sure you start sending,and keep on sending!"

  Anton, keenly at attention, answered,

  "What shall I send?"

  "The S.O.S., first. Then the code signal for the Revenue Cutter_Bear_--you know it, don't you?"

  "Yes."

  "Then send--'Americans in peril, Chukalook' and give the latitude andlongitude. You'll find that written down just inside the cover of theInternational Code Book. I put it there in case of need. Repeat theS.O.S., the code number and the message until you get a reply."

  "And if I don't get a reply?"

  "Keep on sending."

  "Until when?"

  "Until you're shot down, if necessary!"

  "Very well, Mr. Juneau. You can count on me."

  "I know I can, my boy. Now--hurry!"

  The suspicious steamer came nearer and turned the corner of the newlymade breakwater. As she dropped her anchor, she displayed the flag ofthe Eastern Siberian Republic, at that time in the hands of theBolsheviks.

  "We've some 'sour-doughs' in the plant," suggested Jim. "If there'sgoin' to be trouble, they'll be lookin' for front seats. Shall I get'em here?"

  "You might as well. They can bring their shooting-irons, too."

  Jim was not long gone. When he returned, he brought ten men at hisheels, all of the Roaring North breed. Most of them held posts oftrust in some part of the Bull Mine plant and all were ready to standby Jim through thick and thin.

  The "Wizard's" address to the men was brief.

  "Russian 'claim-jumpers,' I reckon," he said, pointing to the steamer."If they're looking for trouble, they'll get it. We'll parley first,and if necessary, shoot afterwards. No one touches his gun till Jimfires. That's orders. Do you get it?"

  The men nodded. Like most of their kind, they were chary of speech andthe word "claim-jumper" means to a miner what the word "horse-thief"meant to the cowboy. There was no need to say more.

  The men had gathered none too soon. A boat had put out from thesteamer and was drawing close to shore. There were a dozen sailorsaboard in a nondescript imitation of the Russian naval uniform, butarmed with modern rifles. An officer was in the stern.

  On reaching the landing-place, the officer leaped ashore, followed bythe armed guard.

  "Who owns this mine?" he demanded in good English.

  "An American syndicate," the "Wizard" answered briefly.

  "And who is in charge here?"

  "I am."

  "In that case, I am instructed to notify you that you are occupyingSiberian territory."

  "That," responded the "Wizard" curtly, "is either a geographical erroror a deliberate lie."

  The officer made a gesture towards his hip, evidently forgetting thesword at his side, a movement which both Jim and the "Wizard" noted.

  "Sir!" he began.

  "This island," the "Wizard" continued, ignoring the interruption, "isa few seconds more than forty minutes of a degree east of theinternational boundary. Observations of the most precise characterhave been taken by Captain Robertson of the _Bunting_ and were dulyrecorded at Washington more than two months ago."

  The officer seemed taken aback at this definite declaration, butmaintained his position firmly.

  "This is Siberian territory," he repeated. "I have orders toconfiscate whatever gold may have been extracted, and to takepossession of the plant, as it stands, in the name of my government."

  "If you try it, you'll get shot," was the terse reply.

  "You would fire on an officer of--"

  Jim cut in, dryly.

  "I'll fire on an American navy deserter, any time," he said, making ashrewd guess at the character of the intruder, "an' it won't worry myconscience none. What's more, I'll put a bullet through aclaim-jumper, whenever I feel like it."

  The self-styled Siberian felt that he was getting the worse of theargument, and his temper rose.

  "Enough talk! I have received information that you are gold-mining onEastern Siberian territory. You are hereby notified that the mine isconfiscated. All those in authority will come aboard the cruiser _Mir_as prisoners. You will be taken to the mainland for trial. Perhaps youwill have the opportunity to prove your observations as to longitude,there!" he sneered.

  "Is the Eastern Siberian Republic at war with the United States?"queried the "Wizard" with dangerous quietness.

  "That does not concern you! Deliver me, at once, the keys and workingmaps of the mine."

  "No!"

  Jim added a western retort that roused the deserter to a livid fury.He answered viciously,

  "We've a six-inch gun aboard that can blow your works to splinters!"

  "And then?"

  "We'll come ashore and take possession. It won't do you any good toask for mercy, then!"

  The "Wizard" stepped forward, his giant frame towering above theintruder.

  "This parley is over!" he thundered. "I declare you pirates, and giveyou five minutes to get yourselves off this island!

  "Jim, get your watch out! If there's one of these scoundrels on shoreat the end of that time, shoot! If any one of them makes a hostilemove, shoot! And shoot to kill!"

  He turned to the supposed Siberian.

  "As for you, you'd better be the first one in the boat! Every one ofthese men is a two-gun man, and I reckon you know what that means!"

  The officer stood his ground, and entered upon an argument as to therights of the case, but was cut short by Jim's crisp announcement,

  "One minute gone!"

  For a second or two the filibusterer hesitated, but the odds wereeven, twelve against twelve. Well he knew that the Americans couldshoot quicker and straighter than his men, who were an undisciplinedlot. He realized, also, that he would be the first to fall.

  Scowling, he gave the order to retreat, amid the open murmurs of hismen, who, under Bolshevist rule, considered themselves the equals oftheir officers.

  The instant that they were embarked, the "Wizard" turned to Jim.

  "We haven't many minutes to lose! That hound wi
ll open up with thegun, as soon as he reports on board.

  "Get to the house as quick as you can. Rush Miss Evans and all theoffice crowd into No. 2 gravel pit, pronto! Shells can't reach themthere."

  "I'll tell the engineer to whistle to Anton. Then I'll close down theworks and get the men into shelter. But we've got to act lively!"

  Crisply he gave his orders to the waiting men, several of whom weregrumbling because they had not been allowed to "clean up the gang" asone of them phrased it. They brightened up, however, at the prospectthat there would be a fight.

  Half a minute later, the whistle sent out a succession of sharpblasts, and, almost simultaneously, there came the sharp crackle ofwireless from the station on the hill.

  A volume of Russian curses was heard coming over the water at thissound, and the rowers redoubled their efforts.

  Presently, from all corners of the plant, the workers came hurrying.The last man was hardly down in the gravel pit when there came adetonation from the sea-front and a shell came whistling over.

  It was not directed at the works, but at the tiny cabin on the top ofthe hill which held the wireless outfit. Fortunately, the cabin waspartly sheltered by a rock, and, moreover, it was but a small mark totry to hit. Some twenty shells passed over the island or exploded idlyon the hill before one struck the sheltering rock. The pieces screamedover the cabin, one fragment tearing a hole in the roof but doing noharm to Anton.

  Truth to tell, the boy was thoroughly enjoying himself. He felt ahero. Never having seen a shot fired in earnest, he hardly realizedwhat the effects of a shell-burst might be.

  The wireless crackled on.

  For two hours the bombardment continued, several pieces of shellhaving passed through the walls above his head. The rock protected thelower part of the cabin. Anton was crouched low over his instrument,and, as yet, the aerials were intact.

  Then, suddenly, a piece of bursting shell whizzed across the wires.

  Silence!

  The wireless was down.

  Chukalook Bank was absolutely cut off from all communication with theoutside world. The men of Bull Mine must fight off the Siberiancruiser, alone.

  The six-inch gun now was turned on the works, a nearer and an easiertarget. The power-house, the stamp-mills and the cyanide vats sufferedmost. A six-inch shell at close range can do an appalling amount ofdestruction. At the end of an hour, most of the works were in ruins.Yet shells could not destroy the gravel bank, nor damage the greatsluice beyond repair.

  The bombardment ceased for a few minutes.

  Then four boat-loads of men put off from the cruiser, and, at the sametime, the six-inch gun began anew, covering their advance.

  "Let's get down to the shore an' keep 'em from landin'!" cried Jim.

  But the "Wizard" held him back.

  "And have our men killed for nothing? No, Jim, we've got a goodtrench here and can hold it. It'll cost them dear to attack."

  "But they'll get all the gold from our last clean-up!"

  "They won't, Uncle Jim," put in Jameine. "I opened the safe and wecarried all the bags here."

  "And your own little pile?"

  The girl shook a little sewing-bag she was carrying, and laughed.

  "I was sewing when you called me, and I only had time to throw it inhere. Gold dust is all mixed up with pins and needles and things."

  Jim nodded.

  "You're right, 'Wizard'," he said. "This is the place we've got tohold."

  "And we'd better fortify one end of it, solid, if the worst comes tothe worst. Get some of the men to roll bowlders here to make a solidwall."

  The boats drew up to the landing-place.

  "Hand me one o' them rifles!" suggested one of the twelve men whom Jimhad first chosen. "I'm good on the shoot. Them claim-jumpers is onlyabout six hundred yards away. I can hit a runnin' rabbit, at thatdistance."

  "Good enough," agreed the "Wizard," "if you can pot them off, so muchthe better. They began the trouble and they fired first. Are thereany more snipers here?"

  Two more of the men professed themselves to be fair shots.

  Creeping out of the trench, the three snipers esconsced themselves incover, leaving only a loophole for their rifles. Presently one, andthen another rifle cracked.

  Two of the invaders fell.

  A volley followed. It pattered harmlessly against the bowlders wherethe snipers were hidden and passed high over the heads of the rest ofthe men, safe in the gravel-pit.

  "This," said the first sniper, as he took aim and fired a second time,"is tame sport. It's too easy."

  A third man fell.

  The Siberians scattered. It was clear that they had little taste forthis kind of thing. They found cover, and, for half an hour or more,not one showed himself.

  Then a little group dashed across towards the house, evidently withthe intention of pillage. The three snipers fired. One man fell, andtwo, evidently wounded, limped after their fellows.

  Then, for hours, not a sign!

  Evening drew down, a foggy evening, with a mist so dense that thefaint gleam of what was almost the midnight sun failed to pierce it.By eleven o'clock, it was nearly dark.

  "They'll attack around midnight, likely," one of the men suggested."Can't we make a big fire, 'Wizard'?"

  "There's no wood here, Bob," the expert replied. "As for the lignite,even if we could get enough of it here without exposing ourselves, itmakes such a lot of smoke that it would help them more than it wouldus. No, we'll have to send out scouts, though it'll be dangerous forthose who go. Who'll volunteer?"

  A chorus answered him, the three snipers claiming the preference.

  "No," said their leader, "I can't spare you. But I'll take old-timers,that's sure!" He chose them carefully. "Now," he said, when he sentthem out, "keep your ears open. Don't shoot unless you have to. If yousee or hear any one coming, get back as quick as you can. It's a risk,you know!"

  "Aw, 'Wizard'!" exclaimed one of them reproachfully, "you ain'ttalkin' to tenderfeet!"

  "If you were a tenderfoot I wouldn't have picked you for a man's job,"the leader answered, knowing well the pride of the "sour-dough." "Outwith you, now, and quietly!"

  An hour passed, and then one of the scouts crawled back.

  "They're comin', 'Wizard'!"

  The other three scouts followed in short order. The Siberians wereadvancing in an extended line.

  "To your places, men! Jim, you and the three I named will hold thebreastwork. The girl's there!"

  Jim looked longingly at the edge of the gravel pit, up which the menwere creeping. He was torn between his desire to be in the forefrontof the battle and his eagerness to be near enough to protect Jameine.But, like all men who have really known the life of the frontier, heobeyed a leader's orders unquestioningly.

  A few minutes later, out from the half-gloom and the wet fog, anirregular line of fire ran, as a hundred or more rifles crackedsimultaneously. The miners responded with a scattering fire.

  The Siberians were on them!

  The fog gave the attackers an advantage. The Americans had only thetime to fire a second volley when the Siberians leaped over the edgeof the gravel pit. A furious hand-to-hand conflict began, but theminers were terribly out-numbered.

  Worse, infinitely worse, the attackers possessed those diabolicalengines of destruction which were developed in the World War--handgrenades. These, thrown upon the frozen gravel, exploded in alldirections. Into the disordered ranks of the miners, the Siberianscharged with the bayonet.

  Armed only with their rifles, which were useless at close range, andwith six-shooters, a weapon of but short usefulness, the Americansfought a losing fight.

  Yet they repulsed the first attack, but at a staggering loss. The"Wizard," seriously but not fatally wounded, was carried behind thebreastwork, his last words before losing consciousness being an orderto cover the shelter with flat slabs of slate, before the Siberiansgot near enough to throw their grenades into the little fortifiedspace.

  Jim str
aightened up.

  "Good-bye, little gal, if I don't see you again!" he called. "My placeis at the front, now!"

  He assumed the lead.

  A second attack, even more vicious than the first, followed. Theminers had reloaded. Most of them had two guns, hastily snatched fromdead or wounded comrades. But for the grenades, they could have morethan held their own. It was not to be. When the second rush subsided,the Siberians held one end of the gravel pit. The farther end, wherewere Jameine and the wounded men, held firm.

  There came a lull, and, from where they lurked, the defenders sawsuddenly some flashes of light from around the wireless house.

  "They're after Anton!" said Clem. "He's all alone, up there. We can'tleave the kid!"

  "Right!" agreed a couple of the men. "Let's go!"

  But Jim stopped them.

  "We're too few, as it is," he ordered. "Anton must take his chance.We've the girl here, the wounded, and the gold."

  "He's my partner!" declared Clem, who knew the magic of the word onJim.

  "Me, too; I go!" declared Otto, in his most stubborn voice.

  Jim hesitated. A partner's right was sacred.

  "Go ahead, then," he said, "an' quick, afore the fog lifts. She'sgettin' lighter, now!"

  The odds were more even now. Between the barricade that the Siberianshad thrown up hastily and the breastwork held by the miners, there wasan open space, too wide for the throwing of the grenades. Thesix-shooters held it clear.

  Again the Siberians rushed. Claim-jumpers they might be, but they wereworthy fighters. They reached almost to the breastwork, and one manhad his arm poised to throw a grenade within, when Jim leaped forwardand brained him with the butt end of a pistol. For full ten minutes,it was a death-grapple, but the attackers were beaten back.

  The case of the Americans was desperate. Ammunition was growing short.

  Another such attack might finish them.

  The Siberians, however, had suffered heavily, and, all unknowing thattheir foes were almost out of cartridges, refused to charge again.

  The faint light strengthened. The mist began to rise. Soon it would befull daylight. The miners braced themselves for what they feared mightbe the last shock.

  Jim, bleeding from two slight wounds, held his men well together.

  There came a babble of voices and then a movement behind thebarricade.

  The Americans stiffened.

  Suddenly, a sharp shot resounded across the water, followed by asecond report, evidently from a gun of different calibre.

  The Siberians clambered from behind their barricade and fled.

  At almost the same instant, Otto, Clem, and Anton were seen to emergefrom the wireless cabin, running down the hill and shouting. The boyhad his arm in a bloody sling. So far as could be seen, the otherswere not hurt.

  Jim scrambled to the edge of the gravel-pit and looked to sea.

  There, her guns trained on the filibustering cruiser _Mir_, the Starsand Stripes flying at her stern, lay the U. S. Revenue Cutter _Bear_,summoned by the wireless messages of Anton, sent while the roof overhis head was being rent by shell.

  Jim's strike was not to go for nought. The gold of "Bull's little gal"had welded the partnership that a coal-mine disaster had begun.

  THE END