The Pike's Peak Rush; Or, Terry in the New Gold Fields

by Edwin L. Sabin

  CHAPTER XVIII

  NEVER SAY DIE!

  Gregory Gulch was now very different in appearance from that same gulchinto which the Extra Limited had entered about a month ago. It resembleda noisy, booming new town. Almost every foot of lower ground wasoccupied. A great deal of the timber had been cut from the ridges andslopes, to be used in cabins and sluices and for fuel; and the axes weremerrily ringing, in tune with the staccato of hammers and the thud ofpicks.

  More families had arrived, so that women were frequently seen, and someof the cabins looked exceedingly "homey." There were many more grocerystores and general supply stores, in tents or log buildings. WhereEditor William Byers' tent had stood, half-way up the gulch, town lotsfor the new Central City had been staked out and were selling as high as$500 apiece!

  Flour was $20 a sack of 100 pounds, eggs were $2.50 a dozen, and milkfifty cents a quart. But money was very cheap, and prices seemed to cutlittle figure, for were not men digging, digging, digging, and emptyingtheir dirt into rockers, or carrying it in gunny sacks and in sledsover pine-trunk tracks, to their sluices, and washing out the dust (someof them) to the amount of $200 a day?

  At night the hundreds of camp fires lighted the gulch redly from side toside; and already there had been a great forest fire, on the new trailin from the Platte, which had burned to death three men and a dog.

  The trail itself was lively, said George, with gold-seekers stilltrudging into the mountains, singing, "I'm bound to the land of gold,"and under Table Mountain had been started, on Clear Creek, a town named"Golden City." It contained about thirty cabins and nearly a thousandpeople, living in the cabins or camping!

  And Denver and Auraria were booming, also.

  Amidst such apparent prosperity it did seem as though persons anxious towork could find work that would pay. But the trouble was that GregoryGulch had become over-populated. The newcomers asserted that theold-timers, like the Gregory crowd, had located too much ground, andthat the claims ought to be cut down from one hundred feet totwenty-five feet, so as to give more people a chance. This movement didnot prove out, because when a miners' meeting was held, to make changesin the regulations, the old-timers put in their own men as officers andwon.

  Consequently, what with the high prices of food and lumber, and the manyclaims that yielded scarcely anything, and the constant rush to getother claims wherever possible, a lot of people were glad to turn theirhands to any kind of work.

  Terry and George tramped clear up the gulch, inquiring at sluice androcker and prospect hole, and even at tents and cabins.

  "Need any help?" Or: "Do you know of a job we can get?" Or: "Could youuse a couple of husky boys around here?"

  Some parties were so busy that they only shook their heads, withoutpausing. Others directed them on, or to right or left. But after havingvolunteered in vain as miners, carpenters, and even as wood-choppers,they reached the head of the gulch, and turned back.

  "Well, guess we'll go down to the other end," sighed Terry.

  "This sure is a tough proposition," said George, using professionallanguage. "Anyway, we've got enough to live on for a day or two, haven'twe? Wonder when Harry'll be back."

  "He won't come back till he has Duke; you can depend on that. Maybe hehasn't money enough."

  "He can borrow from the folks."

  "He won't, though. He'd rather work and earn some more."

  "You can sell your mine, can't you, if you have to?" asked George. "Hesaid sell it. And we can sell the True Blue. I'd as lief."

  "We gave it to Virgie," reminded Terry.

  "Aw, she wouldn't care. It's no good, is it? It doesn't own any water."

  "Well, 'tisn't as good as the Golden Prize," admitted Terry. "Maybewe'll sell the Golden Prize and find something better. But I'd like towait till Harry comes. I'd hate to sell it to that Pine Knot Ike gang."

  "They offered you $100, though, didn't they?"

  "Y-yes," admitted Terry. "It's better than nothing, of course."

  They two (for Shep had been left to guard the cabin) were retracingtheir steps by a slightly different route down the opposite side of thegulch, so as not to miss any chances, and now came upon the wheel-barrowman.

  "Why, hello, young Pike's Peak Limited," he greeted. "How's thegold-seeking business?"

  "We're not gold-seeking, we're job-seeking," explained Terry. "Do youknow of a job for a couple like us?"

  The wheel-barrow man appeared to have packed up. His blanket roll and afry-pan and tin cup were laid ready in front of his closed cabin.

  "What's the matter? Didn't your prospects pan out?" he queried.

  "We haven't any water, so we quit. Then I worked for Pat Casey, and hequit, and we can't even sell pies," confessed Terry.

  "Where's your other partner?"

  "He went down to Denver and Auraria, to buy our buffalo back. They'retrying to match Duke against a bear."

  "Pshaw! That so? I'm going down to Denver myself, to look about in timebefore snow flies. I understand it begins to snow up here in September,and everybody'll be driven out."

  "What'll you do with your mine? You've got one, haven't you?" askedGeorge.

  "Sure pop, young man. And it's recorded, too, on the district books; andif anybody jumps it while I'm gone there'll be a heap of trouble forhim. It's in black and white, described according to miners' law.Say--if you boys really want to work, you go on to Gregory Point, nearthe mouth of the gulch, and maybe you can get a day's work, or severaldays' work, on the new church they're putting up there for a preacher."

  "Come on, George," bade Terry. And--"Much obliged," he called back."Where's your wheel-barrow?"

  "Played out at last. Don't need it, anyway. Can carry all I've got on myback."

  "What's 'recorded'?" queried George, as they hurried off. "Are ourclaims recorded?"

  "Don't think so," puffed Terry. "Nobody told us to record 'em. They'reours, and we've been sitting on them right alone. I'll ask Harry when hecomes back."

  "Or we can ask Pat Casey," proposed George.

  They did not find Pat. His pit was idle and he was away--huntingwitnesses to the sale by which he had bought the prospect. But theyfound the church, or rather the site of the church, on Gregory Point, asthat was called, near the mouth of the gulch. Already a platform like afloor had been constructed; several men were busy hauling logs andleveling the ground with spades for another building; and the Yalepreacher from the True Blue claim had his sleeves rolled up and wasworking with the rest. It was to be his church!

  He warmly welcomed Terry, and shook hands with George also.

  "Yes, indeed; plenty of work here," he jubilated--and Terry's heart beatexpectantly. "We need strong arms. Bring along ax and spade, and pitchin. But," he added, "everything is donated, of course. The labor,material, ground--all is a gift to help the good cause. The people inthe gulch are mighty generous, and their payment will come in thisopportunity regularly to worship God instead of always worshipping gold.They can't live in a civilized fashion without a church. So the quickerwe have such a place, the better. What do you say? Want to help?"

  Terry looked at George; George looked at Terry.

  "I'd rather do that than do nothing," blurted George. "Only----"

  "So would I," answered Terry. "But you see," he said, to the preacher,"those claims have played out----"

  "That's too bad," sympathized the preacher. "Both of them?"

  "Yes, sir. We can't mine 'em till we have water. The water's gone. Andour jobs busted, and I reckon we'll have to earn our keep. But we'd aslief help here till we strike another job."

  "All right. Bully for you! To work once in a while for something besidesmoney never hurts anybody," assured the preacher. "I have to do a lot ofthat myself. Bring down your tools whenever you feel like it. I expectsome of the men will be working here all night because they can't sparethe time during the day. We're going to finish the church and my cabinbefore Sunday. But maybe you'd rather wait till morning. It's nearlysupper time now. Come after
supper, though, to the prayer-meeting. Wehold the first prayer-meeting, around this platform. And I'll want youto join the Sunday-school."

  They left the enthusiastic preacher and his volunteers building thefirst church in the diggin's.

  "Might as well go home, I guess," remarked Terry.

  Twilight was empurpling the hills when they arrived. This had been alively day, but not a very successful one.

  "Anyway, we've got enough to eat," quoth George. "And if we work on thechurch that may lead to something else. We'll keep busy."

  "Sure," agreed Terry. "Keep a-going, as Harry said, all the way out.Keep a-going."

  By the time that they had finished supper and washed the dishes thegulch was again redly outlined by the hundred camp fires. The sounds ofaxes and picks and saws had ceased, and there arose the hum ofconversation, broken by shouts and laughs and occasional bits of music.

  As they stumped along their way to the prayer-meeting (which was quitean event) they passed a tent where somebody was playing the violin--andfarther on, in a cabin, a group of men were singing "Home, Sweet Home,"to the tune of an accordian.

  The prayer-meeting was being held, sure enough. There on the point wasthe platform, lighted by torches and surrounded by a throng of peoplesitting on the ground and stumps and boxes and logs, listening to thepreacher. Or--no!

  "That's the Lord's Prayer! They're all saying the Lord's Prayer!"uttered George, awed.

  So they were--or at least from this distance the cadence sounded likethe Lord's Prayer, repeated in unison by those whiskered men of flannelshirts and high boots and revolvers and by the tanned women in shabbycalico dresses. A great sight that was--and a very good sound, for theseparts or any parts.

  "There's another meeting!" whispered Terry, for he did not feel likespeaking aloud when the Lord's Prayer was being recited. "Haven't gottwo preachers, have we?"

  For just below the prayer-meeting a man was standing in an open wagonand addressing another crowd. He was talking fast, the listeners jostledand craned, and the flare of the pitch-pine torch planted on the wagonlighted their hairy, up-turned faces.

  "We'll have to go and see," uttered George; who, as a tenderfoot, waseager to see everything.

  Presently the words of the man in the wagon-box could be heard above therefrain of the Lord's Prayer around the platform. He was somebody whomTerry never had noticed before in the gulch--a thin, slab-sided man withcarroty hair and beard and dressed in prospector's clothes; wore arevolver; no preacher, he. Certainly not, for----

  "Yes, gentlemen," he was saying, "not more'n fifty miles from herethere's a place where every one o' you can wash your pound o' gold dustto a man per day. Me and my partners are the first white men in there;we've made our locations and our laws and have started a new campthat'll be a world-beater. Tarryall, we've named it; in the big SouthPark: the best and richest country on the face o' the earth. As soon asI get provisions here I'm goin' back in, and I'll take any o' you whowant to go with me, on the understandin' you'll respect our rights asfirst locators. There's plenty room, gentlemen--and a pound o' gold aday per man waitin' to be dug. It's yours, gentlemen, if you want it.We'll welcome you to Tarryall. Only fifty miles to fortune, remember.I'll show you the way, but I start early in the mornin'."

  The crowd jostled excitedly. On the outskirts George clutched Terry hardby the sleeve.

  "Let's go!" he exclaimed. "Did you hear? A pound a day! That beats thesediggin's. Cracky! I knew there was some place where a fellow could dighis pound a day. We can go and make our strike, and then 'twon't matterwhether we sell these claims in here or not."

  "All right; let's," agreed Terry, fired with the same idea. "We'lllocate for ourselves and Harry, too; or if they won't allow boys tolocate in their own names we'll locate in Harry's name and my dad's andyour dad's! Harry'd never go to any of those other big strikes--theBobtail, or the one in Russell Gulch, or a lot more. We've stuck here,when we might have been getting rich somewhere else."

  "Come on back to the cabin and pack up," urged George.

  They turned, when a voice at their elbow stayed them.

  "Got the fever again, have you?"

  He was the "Root Hog or Die" professor.

  "Guess so," grinned Terry. "You've been away, haven't you? Did GreenRussell find you a mine? Do you know that man in the wagon? Has he madea big strike?"

  "Never saw him before and don't know anything about him," answered theprofessor. "Yes, I've got a few prospects, but I'm holding them for morewater. Just now I'm recorder for this district. They elected me only theother day. How are you doing? Where's Harry?"

  "We're waiting for water, too. He's down at Denver, but he's comingback. Will you record our claims? Do we have to record them?"

  "No, you don't have to. It might be safer, though. But I can't recordthem tonight. The books are locked up. What are they?"

  "The Golden Prize and the True Blue. They're over there."

  "I know. You look me up at the office first thing in the morning andwe'll record them."

  "We won't have time. We're going to follow that man in the wagon to thenew strike," explained Terry. "Nobody'd said anything about recordinguntil this evening. But we'll be back."

  "Well, I'll make a memorandum, then," proposed the professor, "so you'llbe safer. Nobody's liable to jump your claims while you're gone, if theycan't be worked. The gulch is full of such claims. But you look me upas soon as you can."

  "All right. Much obliged," replied Terry. "Maybe we won't want thoseclaims after we've been to the new strike."

  "We'd better be going. We've got to find Jenny and pack our stuff,"urged George, impatient.

  "Good luck to you," called the professor, as they hastened away.

  "I'd like to surprise Harry with a regular gold mine, by the time hesees us again," uttered Terry.

  "Sure. We'll leave a note in the cabin saying we've gone to get rich,"enthused George.