CHAPTER V
MOTHER TRIGEDGO
"Well, I'll tell you," confided Big Boy, moving closer to Old Bunk andlowering his voice mysteriously, "I know you'll think I'm crazy, butthere's something to that stuff. Maybe we don't understand it, and ofcourse there's a lot of fakes, but I got this from Mother Trigedgo.She's that Cornish seeress, that predicted the big cave in the stope ofthe Last Chance mine, and now I _know_ she's good. She tellsfortunes by cards and by pouring water in your hand and going into atrance. Then she looks into the water and sees a kind of vision of allthat is going to happen. Well, here's what she said for me--and shewrote it down on a paper.
"'You will soon make a journey to the west and there, in the shadow of aplace of death, you will find two treasures, one of silver and the otherof gold. Choose well between the two and----"
"By grab, that's right, boy!" exclaimed Old Bunk enthusiastically, "shedescribed this place down to a hickey. You came west from Globe and whenyou went by here the shadow was still on those hills; and as for a placeof death, Apache Leap got its name from the Indians that jumped overthat cliff. Say, you could hunt all over Arizona and not find anotherplace that came within a mile of it!"
"That's right," mused Big Boy, "but I was thinking all the time thatthat place of death would be a graveyard."
"Sure, but how could a graveyard cast a shadow--they're always on levelground. No, I'm telling you, boy, that there cliff is the place--lemmetell you how it got its name. A long time ago when the Indians were badthey had a soldiers' post right here where this town stands, and theykept a lookout up on the Picket Post butte, where they could heliographclear down to Tucson. Well, every time a bunch of Indians would go downout of the hills to raid some wagon-train on the trail this lookoutwould see them and signal Tucson and the soldiers would do the rest. Itgot so bymeby the Indians couldn't do anything and at last Old Cochisegot together about eight hundred Apaches and came over to wipe out thepost. It looked easy at the time, because there was less than twohundred men, but the major in command was a fighting fool and didn'tknow when he was whipped. The Apaches all gathered up on the top ofthose high cliffs--it's flat on the upper side--and one night when theirsignal fires had burned down the soldiers sneaked around behind them.And then, just at dawn, they fired a volley and made a rush for thecamp; and before they knowed it about two hundred Indians had jumpedclean over the cliff. They killed the rest of them--all but two or threebucks that fought their way through the line--and now, by grab, youcouldn't get an Indian up there if you'd offer him a quart of whiskey.It's sure bad medicine for Apaches."
"Isn't it wonderful!" exclaimed Big Boy, "there's no use talking--thissure is the place of death. And say, next time you go over to Globe yougo and see Mother Trigedgo--I just want to tell you what she did!"
"All right," sighed Old Bunk, who preferred to talk business, and hesettled down to listen.
"This Mother Trigedgo," began Big Boy, "isn't an ordinary, cheapfortune-teller. Those people are all fakes because they're just out forthe dollar and tell you what they think you want to know. But MotherTrigedgo keeps a Cousin-Jack boarding house and only prophesies when shefeels the power. Sometimes she'll go along for a week or more and nevertell a fortune; and then, when she happens to be feeling right, she'lltell some feller what's coming to him. Those Cousin Jacks are crazyabout what she can do, but I never went to a seeress in my life untilafter we had that big cave. I'm a timber man, you see, and sometimes Itake contracts to catch up dangerous ground; and the best men in theworld when it comes to that work are these old-country Cousin Jacks.They're nervy and yet they're careful and so I always hire 'em; but whenwe were doing this work down in the stope of the Last Chance, they begantalking about Mother Trigedgo. It seems she'd told the fortune of a boyor two--they were all of them boarding at her house--and she was soworried she could hardly cook on account of them working in this mine.It was swelling ground and there were a lot of old workings where thetimbering had given way; and to tell you the truth I didn't like itmyself, although I wouldn't admit it."
"Well, it was the twenty-second of April, and all that morning we couldhear the ground working over head and when it came noon we went upabove, as we says, for a breath of fresh air. But while we were eating,there was a Cousin Jack named Chambers fetched up this old talk aboutMother Trigedgo, and how she'd predicted he'd be killed in a cave if hedidn't quit working in the stope; and when our half-hour's nooning wasup he says: 'I'll not go down that shaft!'
"We were all badly scared, because that ground was always moving, andfinally we agreed that we'd take a full hour off and work till fiveo'clock. Well, we waited till after one before we went to the collar andjust as I was stepping into the cage the whole danged stope caved in!"
"Well, sir, I went back to my room and got every dollar I had and gaveMother Trigedgo the roll. I could easy earn more but if I'd been caughtin that cave they'd never even tried to dig me out. That was the least Icould do, considering what she'd done for me; but Mother Trigedgo tookon so much about it that I told her it was to have my fortune told.Well, she tried the cards and dice and consulted the signs of theZodiac; and then one day when she felt the power strong she poured alittle water in my hand. That made a kind of pool, like thesecrystal-gazers use, and when she looked into it she began to talk andshe told me all about my life. Or that is, she told me what she thoughtI ought to know, and gave me a copy of the Book of Fate that Napoleonalways consulted. And here it ain't three months till I make thisjourney west and find the place she prophesied."
"Yes, and silver, too!" added Old Bunk portentously, "she hit it, downto a hickey. And now, if you'd like to inspect those claims----"
"No, hold on," protested Big Boy still pondering on his fate, "I've gotto find these treasures myself. And one of them was of gold. What's thechances around here for that?"
"Danged poor," grumbled Bunker as he saw his hopes gone glimmering,"don't remember to have seen a color. But say, old Bible Back isdrilling for copper and that's a good deal like gold. Same color,practically, and you know all these prophecies have a kind of symbolicalmeaning. A golden treasure don't necessarily mean gold, and I've got aclaim----"
"Say, who's that up there?" broke in Big Boy uneasily and Old Bunklooked around with a jerk.
An old, white-haired man, wearing a battered cork helmet, was peeringover the bank and when he perceived that his presence was discovered hecame shuffling down the trail. He was a short, fat man, in faded shirtand overalls; and on his feet he wore a pair of gunboat brogans, thicklystudded on the bottom with hob-nails. A space of six inches between thetops of his shoes and the worn-off edge of his trousers exposed hisshrunken shanks, and he carried a stick which might serve for cane orclub as circumstances demanded. He came down briskly with his broad toesturned out in grotesque resemblance to a duck and when Bunker Hill sawhim he snorted resentfully and rose up from his seat.
"Have you seen my burros?" demanded the old man, half defiantly, "Ican't find dose rascals nowhere. Ah, so; here's a stranger come to camp!Good morning, I'm glad to know you."
"Good morning," returned Big Boy glancing doubtfully at Bunker Hill, "myname is Denver Russell."
"Oh, excuse _me_!" spoke up Bunker with a sarcastic drawl, "Mr.Russell, this is Professor Diffenderfer, the eminent buttinsky andgeologist."
"Ah--so!" beamed the Professor overlooking the fling in the excitementof the meeting, "I take it you're a mining man? Vell, if it's goltyou're looking for I haf a claim up on dat hill dat is rich inauriferous deposits."
"Yes," broke in Bunker giving Big Boy a sly wink, "you ought to inspectthat tunnel--it's unique in the annals of mining. You see the Professorhere is an educated man--he's learned all the big words in thedictionary, and he's learned mining from reading Government reports.We're quite proud of his achievements as a mining engineer, but youought to see that tunnel. It starts into the hill, takes a couple ofcorkscrew twists and busts right out into the sunshine."
"Oh, never mind _him_!" protested the Prof
essor as Bunker burstinto a roar, "he will haf his choke, of course. But dis claim I speakof----"
"And that ain't all his accomplishments," broke in Bunker Hillrelentlessly, "Mr. Diffenderfer is a count--a German count--sometimesknown as Count No-Count. But as I was about to say, his greatestaccomplishments have been along tonsorial lines."
A line of pain appeared between the Professor's eyes--but he stood hisground defiantly. "Yes," went on Bunker thrusting out his jaw in abaleful leer at his rival, "for many years he has had the prouddistinction of being the Champion Rough-Riding Barber of Arizona."
"Vell, I've got to go," murmured the Professor hastily, "I've got tofind dem burros."
He started off but at the plank across the creek he stopped and clearedhis throat. "Und any time," he began, "dat you'd like to inspect demclaims----"
"The Champeen--Rough-Riding--Barber!" repeated Old Bunk with gusto, "hewon his title on the race-track at Tucson, before safety razors wasinvented."
"Shut up!" snapped the Professor and, crossing the plank with waspishquickness, he went squattering off down the creek. Yet one ear wasturned back and as Bunker began to speak he stopped in the trail tolisten.
"He took a drunken cowboy up in the saddle before him," went on Bunkerwith painful distinctness, "and gave him a close shave while the horsewas bucking, only cutting his throat three times."
"You're a liar!" yelled the Professor and, stamping his foot, he hustledvengefully off down the trail.
"Say, who is that old boy?" enquired Big Boy curiously, "he might knowwhere I'd find that gold."
"Who--him?" jeered Bunker, "why, that old stiff wouldn't know a chunk ofgold if he saw it. All he does is to snoop around and watch what_I'm_ doing, and if he ever thinks that I've picked up a live onehe butts in and tries to underbid me. Now I'll tell you what I'll do,I'll get you a horse and show you all over the district, and any claimI've got that you want to go to work on, you can have for five hundreddollars. Now, that's reasonable, ain't it? And yet, the way things aregoing, I'm glad to let you in on it. If you strike something big, hereI've got my store and mine, and plenty of other claims, to boot; and ifthere's a rush I stand to make a clean-up on some of my otherproperties. So come up to the house and meet my wife and daughter, andwe'll try to make you comfortable. But that old feller----"
"Nope," said Big Boy, "I think I'd rather camp--who lives in thosecave-houses up there?"
He jerked his head at some walled-up caves in the bluff not far acrossthe creek and Old Bunk scowled reproachfully.
"Oh, nobody," he said, "except the rattle-snakes and pack-rats. Whydon't you come up to the house?"
"I don't need to go to your house," returned Big Boy defiantly. "I'vegot money to buy what I need."
"Yes, but come up anyway and meet my wife and daughter. Drusilla is amusician--she's studied in Boston at the celebrated Conservatory ofMusic----"
"I've got me a phonograph," answered Big Boy shortly, "if I can ever getit over here from Globe."
"Well, go ahead and get it, then," said Bunker Hill tartly, "they'snobody keeping you, I'm sure."
"No, and you bet your life there won't be," came back Big Boy, startingoff, "I'm playing a lone hand to win."
Silver and Gold: A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp Page 5
