by Bret Harte
awful secretto herself and that no one could understand her.
The eventful day dawned without any unusual sign of importance. Itwas one of the cloudless summer days of the Californian foot hills,bright, dry, and as the morning advanced, hot in the white sunshine.The actual, prosaic house in which the Pirates apparently lived, wasa mile from a mining settlement on a beautiful ridge of pine woodssloping gently towards a valley on the one side, and on the otherfalling abruptly into a dark deep olive gulf of pine trees, rocks,and patches of red soil. Beautiful as the slope was, looking over tothe distant snow peaks which seemed to be in another world thantheirs, the children found a greater attraction in the fascinatingdepths of a mysterious gulf, or "canon," as it was called, whosevery name filled their ears with a weird music. To creep to the edgeof the cliff, to sit upon the brown branches of some fallen pine,and putting aside the dried tassels to look down upon the backs ofwheeling hawks that seemed to hang in mid-air was a never failingdelight. Here Polly would try to trace the winding red ribbon ofroad that was continually losing itself among the dense pines of theopposite mountains; here she would listen to the far off strokes ofa woodman's axe, or the rattle of some heavy waggon, miles away,crossing the pebbles of a dried up water course. Here, too, theprevailing colours of the mountains, red and white and green, mostshowed themselves. There were no frowning rocks to depress thechildren's fancy, but everywhere along the ridge pure white quartzbared itself through the red earth like smiling teeth, the verypebbles they played with were streaked with shining mica like bitsof looking-glass. The distance was always green and summer-like, butthe colour they most loved, and which was most familiar to them, wasthe dark red of the ground beneath their feet everywhere. It showeditself in the roadside bushes; its red dust pervaded the leaves ofthe overhanging laurel, it coloured their shoes and pinafores; I amafraid it was often seen in Indian like patches on their faces andhands. That it may have often given a sanguinary tone to theirfancies, I have every reason to believe.
It was on this ridge that the three children gathered at ten o'clockthat morning. An earlier flight had been impossible on account ofWan Lee being obliged to perform his regular duty of blacking theshoes of Polly and Hickory before breakfast,--a menial act which inthe pure Republic of childhood was never thought inconsistent withthe loftiest piratical ambition. On the ridge they met one "Patsey,"the son of a neighbour, sun burned, broad-brimmed hatted, redhanded, like themselves. As there were afterwards some doubtsexpressed whether he joined the Pirates of his own free will, orwas captured by them, I endeavour to give the colloquy exactly as itoccurred:--
_Patsey._ "Hallo, fellers."
_The Pirates._ "Hello!"
_Patsey._ "Goin' to hunt bars? Dad seed a lot o' tracks at sun up."
_The Pirates_ (hesitating). "No--o--"
_Patsey._ "I am; know where I kin get a six-shooter."
_The Pirates_ (almost ready to abandon piracy for bear hunting, butpreserving their dignity). "Can't! We've runn'd away for realpirates."
_Patsey._ "Not for good!"
_The Queen_ (interposing with sad dignity and real tears in herround blue eyes). "Yes!" (slowly and shaking her head). "Can't goback again. Never! Never! Never! The--the--eye is cast!"
_Patsey_ (bursting with excitement). "No'o! Sho'o! Wanter know."
_The Pirates_ (a little frightened themselves, but tremulous withgratified vanity). "The Perleese is on our track!"
_Patsey._ "Lemme go with yer!"
_Hickory._ "Wot'll yer giv?"
_Patsey._ "Pistol and er bananer."
_Hickory_ (with judicious prudence). "Let's see 'em."
Patsey was off like a shot; his bare little red feet trembling underhim. In a few minutes he returned with an old fashioned revolverknown as one of "Allen's pepper boxes" and a large banana. He was atonce enrolled and the banana eaten.
As yet they had resolved on no definite nefarious plan. Hickorylooking down at Patsey's bare feet instantly took off his own shoes.The bold act sent a thrill through his companions. Wan Lee took offhis cloth leggings, Polly removed her shoes and stockings, but withroyal foresight, tied them up in her handkerchief. The last linkbetween them and civilization was broken.
"Let's go to the Slumgullion."
"Slumgullion" was the name given by the miners to a certain soft,half-liquid mud, formed of the water and finely powdered earth thatwas carried off by the sluice boxes during gold washing, andeventually collected in a broad pool or lagoon before the outlet.There was a pool of this kind a quarter of a mile away, where therewere "diggings" worked by Patsey's father, and thither theyproceeded along the ridge in single file. When it was reached theysolemnly began to wade in its viscid paint-like shallows. Possiblyits unctuousness was pleasant to the touch; possibly there was afascination in the fact that their parents had forbidden them to gonear it, but probably the principal object of this performance wasto produce a thick coating of mud on the feet and ankles, which,when dried in the sun, was supposed to harden the skin and rendertheir shoes superfluous. It was also felt to be the first real steptowards independence; they looked down at their ensanguinedextremities and recognized the impossibility of their ever againcrossing (unwashed) the family threshold.
Then they again hesitated. There was a manifest need of some welldefined piratical purpose. The last act was reckless andirretrievable, but it was vague. They gazed at each other. There wasa stolid look of resigned and superior tolerance in Wan Lee's eyes.Polly's glance wandered down the side of the slope to the distantlittle tunnels or openings made by the miners who were at work inthe bowels of the mountain. "I'd like to go into one of them funnyholes," she said to herself, half aloud.
Wan Lee suddenly began to blink his eyes with unwonted excitement."Catchee tunnel--heap gold," he said, quickly. "When manee comeoutside to catchee dinner--Pilats go inside catchee tunnel! Shabbee!Pilats catchee gold allee samee Melican man!"
"And take perseshiun," said Hickory.
"And hoist the Pirate flag," said Patsey.
"And build a fire, and cook, and have a family," said Polly.
The idea was fascinating to the point of being irresistible. Theeyes of the four children became rounder and rounder. They seizedeach other's hands and swung them backwards and forwards,occasionally lifting their legs in a solemn rhythmic movement knownonly to childhood.
"Its orful far off!" said Patsey, with a sudden look of darkimportance. "Pap sez its free miles on the road. Take all day terget there."
The bright faces were overcast.
"Less go down er slide!" said Hickory, boldly.
They approached the edge of the cliff. The "slide" was simply asharp incline zigzagging down the side of the mountain used forsliding goods and provisions from the summit to the tunnel men atthe different openings below. The continual traffic had graduallyworn a shallow gulley half filled with earth and gravel into theface of the mountain which checked the momentum of the goods intheir downward passage, but afforded no foothold for a pedestrian.No one had ever been known to descend a slide. That feat wasevidently reserved for the Pirate band. They approached the edge ofthe slide hand in hand, hesitated--and the next moment disappeared!
* * * * *
Five minutes later the tunnel men of the Excelsior mine, a milebelow, taking their luncheon on the rude platform of _debris_ beforetheir tunnel, were suddenly driven to shelter in the tunnel from anapparent rain of stones, and rocks, and pebbles, from the cliffsabove. Looking up, they were startled at seeing four round objectsrevolving and bounding in the dust of the slide, which eventuallyresolved themselves into three boys and a girl. For a moment thegood men held their breath in helpless terror. Twice, one of thechildren, had struck the outer edge of the bank and displaced stonesthat shot a thousand feet down into the dizzy depths of the valley!and now, one of them, the girl, had actually rolled out of the slideand was hanging over the chasm supported only by a clump of chimasalto which she clung!
"Hang on by your eyelids, Sis! but don'
t stir for Heaven's sake!"shouted one of the men, as two others started on a hopeless ascentof the cliff above them.
But a light childish laugh from the clinging little figure seemed tomock them! Then two small heads appeared at the edge of the slide;then a diminutive figure whose feet were apparently held by someinvisible companion, was shoved over the brink and stretched itstiny arms towards the girl. But in vain, the distance was too great.Another laugh of intense youthful enjoyment followed the failure,and a new insecurity was added to the situation by the unsteadyhands and shoulders of the relieving party who were apparentlyshaking
