CHAPTER VI
THE ORACULUM
The palpitating heat lay like a shimmering fleece over the deserted campof Pinal and Denver Russell, returning from Globe, beheld it as one in adream. Somewhere within the shadow of Apache Leap were two treasuresthat he was destined to find, one of gold and one of silver; and if hechose wisely between them they were both to be his. And if he choseunwisely, or tried to hold them both, then both would be lost and hewould suffer humiliation and shame. Yet he came back boldly, fresh froma visit with Mother Trigedgo who had blessed him and called him her son.She had wept when they parted, for her burdens had been heavy and hisgift had lightened her lot; but though she wished him well she could notcontrol his fate, for that lay with the powers above. Nor could sheconceal from him the portion of evil which was balanced against thegood.
"Courage and constancy will attend you through life'" she had written inher old-country scrawl; "but in the end will prove your undoing, for youwill meet your death at the hands of your dearest friend."
That was the doom that hung over him like a hair-suspended sword--to bekilled by his dearest friend--and as he paused at the mouth of QueenCreek Canyon he wished that his fortune had not been told. Of what goodto him would be the two hidden treasures--or even the beautiful youngartist with whom he was destined to fall in love--if his life might becut off at any moment by some man that he counted his friend?_When_ his death should befall, Mother Trigedgo had not told, forthe signs had been obscure; but when it did come it would be by the handof the man that he called his best friend. A swift surge of resistancecame over him again as he gazed at the promised land and he shut histeeth down fiercely. He would have no friends, no best of friends, butall men that he met he would treat the same and so evade the harsh handof fate. Forewarned was forearmed, he would have no more pardners suchas men pick up in rambling around; but in this as in all else he wouldplay a lone hand and so postpone the evil day.
He strode on down the trail into the silent town where the houses stoodroofless and bare, and as he glanced at the ancient gallows-frame abovethe abandoned mine fresh courage came into his heart. This city of thedead should come back to life if what the stars said was true; and thelong rows of adobes now stripped of windows and doors, would awaken tothe tramp of miners' boots. He would find two treasures and, if he chosewell between them, both the silver and the gold would be his. Butneither wily Bunker Hill nor the palavering Professor should pull himthis way or that; for Mother Trigedgo had given him a book, to consulton all important occasions. It was Napoleon's Oraculum, or Book of Fate;and as Denver had glanced at the key--with its thirty-two questionscovering every important event in human life--a thrill of security hadpassed over him. With this mysterious Oraculum, the Man of Destiny hadsolved the many problems of his life; and in question thirteen, thatsinister number, was a test that would serve Denver well:
"Will the FRIEND I most reckon upon prove faithful or treacherous?"
How many times must that great, aloof man have put some friend's loyaltyto the test; and if the answer was in the negative how often had heavoided death by foreknowledge of impending treachery! Yet such friendsas he had retained had all proved loyal, his generals had been devotedto his cause; and with the aid of his Oraculum he had conquered all hisenemies--until at last the Book of Fate had been lost. At the battle ofLeipsic, in the confusion of the retreat, his precious Dream Book hadbeen left behind. Kings and Emperors had used it since, and seeresses aswell; and now, after the lapse of a hundred years, it was published inquaint cover and lettering, for the guidance of all and sundry. And OldMother Trigedgo, coming all the way from Cornwall, had placed the Bookof Fate in his hands! There was destiny in everything, and this womanwho had saved his life could save it again with her Oraculum.
Denver turned to the Mexican who, with two heavily-packed mules, stoodpatiently awaiting his pleasure; and with a brief nod of the head hestrode down the trail while the mules minced along behind him. Past theold, worked-out mine, past the melted-down walls of abandoned adoberuins, he led on to the store and the cool, darkened house whichsheltered the family of Andrew Hill; but even here he did not stop,though Old Bunk beckoned him in. His life, which had once been as otherpeople's lives, had been touched by the hand of fate; and gayeties andgood cheer, along with friendship and love, had been banished to thelimbo of lost dreams. So he turned across the creek and led the way tothe cave that was destined to be his home.
It was an ancient cavern beneath the rim of a low cliff which overlookedthe town and as Denver was helping to unlash the packs Bunker Hill cametoiling up the trail.
"Got back, hey?" he greeted stepping into the smoke-blackened cave andgazing dubiously about, "well, it'll be cool inside here, anyway."
"Yes, that's what I figured on," responded Denver briefly, and as hecleaned out the rats' nests and began to make camp Old Bunk sat down inthe doorway and began a new cycle of stories.
"This here cave," he observed, "used to be occupied by thecliff-dwellers--them's their hand-marks, up on the wall; and then Ireckon the Apaches moved in, and after them the soldiers; but when theLost Burro began turning out the ore, I'll bet it was crowded like abar-room. Them was the days, I'm telling you--you couldn't walk thestreet for miners out spending their money--and a cliff-house like thiswith a good, tight roof, would bring in a hundred dollars a night, anytime that it happened to rain. All them melted-down adobes was plumbfull of people, the saloons were running full blast, and the miner thatcouldn't steal ten dollars a day had no business working underground.They took out chunks of native silver as big as your head, and it allran a thousand ounces to the ton, but even at that them worthlessmule-skinners was throwing pure silver at their teams. They had mountedguards to ride along with the wagons and keep them from stealing theore, but you can pick up chunks yet where them teamsters threw them offand never went back to find 'em.
"Did you ever hear how the Lost Burro was found? Well, the name, ofcourse, tells the story. If one of these prospectors goes out to findhis burros he runs across a mine; and if he goes out the next day tolook for another mine he runs across his burros. The most of them arelike the old Professor down here, they wouldn't know mineral if they sawit; but of course when they grab up a chunk of pure silver and start tothrow it at a jackass they can't help taking notice. Well, that's theway this mine was found. A prospector that was camping here went up onthat little hill to rock his old burro back to camp and right on top hefound a piece of silver that was so pure you could cut it with yourknife. That guy was honest, he gave the credit to his burro, and, if thetruth was known, half the mines in the west would be named after someknot-headed jackass. That's how much intellect it takes to be aprospector."
"No, I'll tell you what's the matter with these prospectors," returnedDenver with a miner's scorn, "they do everything in the world but dig.They'll hike, and hunt burros and go out across the desert; but anythingthat calls for a few taps of work they'll pass it right up, every time.And I'll tell you, old-timer, all the mines on top of ground have beenlocated long ago. That's why you hear so much about 'Swede luck' thesedays--the Swede ain't too lazy to sink.
"That's my motto--sink! Get down to bed-rock and see what there is onthe bottom; but these danged prospectors just hang around thewater-holes and play pedro until they eat up their grub-stakes."
"Heh, heh; that's right," responded Bunker reminiscently, "say, did youever hear of old Abe Berg? He used to keep a store down below in Moroni;and there was one of these old prospectors that made a living that way,used to touch him up regular for a grub-stake. Old Abe was about as easyas Bible-Back Murray when you showed him a rich piece of ore and afterthis prospector had et up all his grub he'd drift back to town for more.But on the way in, like all of them fellers, he'd stop at some real goodmine; and after he'd stole a few chunks of high-grade ore he'd take italong to show to Abe. But after a while Old Abe got suspicious--hedidn't fall for them big stories any more--and at last he began toenquire just where this bonanza was, that the p
rospector was reportingon so favorable. Well, the feller told him and Abe he scratched his headand enquired the name of the mine.
"'Why, I call it the Juniper,' says the old prospector kind of innocent;and Abe he jumped right up in the air.
"'Vell, dat's all right,' he yells, tapping himself on the chest, 'buthere's one Jew, I betcher, dat you von't nip again!' Get the point--hethought the old prospector was making a joke of it and calling his minethe Jew-Nipper!"
"Yeah, I'm hep," replied Russell, "say who is this feller that you callBible-Back Murray--has he got any claims around here?"
"Claims!" repeated Bunker, "well, I guess he has. He's got a hundred ifI've got one--this whole upper district is located."
"What--this whole country?" exclaimed Denver in sudden dismay, "thewhole range of hills--all that lays in the shadow of the Leap?"
"Jest about," admitted Bunker, "but as I told you before, you can haveany of mine for five hundred."
"Oh hell," burst out Denver and then he roused up and a challenge creptinto his voice. "Do you mean to tell me," he said, "that he's kept uphis assessment work? Has he done a hundred dollars worth of work onevery claim? No, you know danged well he hasn't--you've just been doinglead-pencil work."
"That's all right," returned Bunker, "we've got a gentlemen's agreementto respect each others monuments; and you'll find our sworn statementsthat the work has been done on file with the County Recorder."
"Yes, and now I know," grumbled Russell rebelliously, "why the wholedanged district is dead. You and Murray and this old Dutchman havelocated all the ground and you're none of you doing any work. But when aminer like me blows into the camp and wants to prospect around he'sstuck for five hundred dollars. How'm I going to buy my powder and alittle grub and steel if I give up my roll at the start? No, I'll lookthis country over and if I find what I want----"
"You'll pay for it, young man," put in Bunker Hill pointedly, "that is,if it belongs to me."
"Well, I will if it's worth it," answered Russell grudgingly, "butyou've got to show me your title."
"Sure I will," agreed Bunker, "the best title a man can have--continuousand undisputed possession. I've been here fifteen years and I've neverhad a claim jumped yet."
"Who's this Bible-Back Murray?" demanded Denver, "has he got a cleantitle to his ground?"
"You bet he has," replied Bunker Hill, "and he's got my name as awitness that his yearly assessment work's been done."
"And you, I suppose," suggested Denver sarcastically, "have got_his_ name, as an affidavit man, to prove that _your_ work hasbeen done. And when I look around I'll bet there ain't a hole anywherethat's been sunk in the last two years."
"Yes there is!" contradicted Bunker, "you go right up that wash thatcomes down from them north hills and you'll find one that's down twelvehundred feet. And there's a diamond drill outfit sinking twenty feet aday, and has been for the last six months. At five dollars afoot--that's the contract price--Old Bible-Back is paying a hundreddollars a day. Now--how many days will that drill have to run to do theannual work? No, you're all right, young man, and I like your nerve, butyou don't want to take too much for granted."
"Judas priest!" exclaimed Russell, "twelve hundred feet deep? What doesthe old boy think he's got?"
"He's drilling for copper," nodded Bunker significantly, "and for allyou and I know, he's got it. He's got an armed guard in charge of thatdrill, and no outsider has been allowed anywhere near it for going on tosix months. The cores are all stored away in boxes where nobodv can gettheir hands on them and the way old Bible-Back is sweating blood Ireckon they're close to the ore. But a hundred dollars a day--say, theway things are now that'll make or break old Murray. He's been blowingin money for ten or twelve years trying to develop his silverproperties; but now he's crazy as a bed-bug over copper--can't talkabout anything else."
"Is that so?" murmured Denver and as he went about his work his brainbegan to seethe and whirl. Here was something he had not known of, anelement of chance which might ruin all his plans; for if the diamonddrill broke into rich copper ore his chance at the two treasures wouldbe lost. There would be a big rush and the price of claims would soar tothousands of dollars. The country looked well for copper, with its heavycap of dacite and the manganese filling in the veins; and it was only aday's journey in each direction from the big copper camps of Ray andGlobe. He turned impulsively and reached for his purse, but as he wasabout to plank down his five hundred dollars in advance he rememberedMother Trigedgo's words.
"Choose well between the two and both shall be yours. But if you chooseunwisely, then both will be lost and you will suffer humiliation andshame."
"Say," blurted out Denver, "your claims are all silver--haven't you gota gold prospect anywhere?"
"No, I haven't," answered Old Bunk, his eye on the bank-roll, "but I'llaccept a deposit on that offer. Any claim I've got--except the LostBurro itself--for five hundred dollars, cash."
"How long is that good for?" enquired Russell cautiously and Bunkerslapped his leg for action.
"It's good for right now," he said, "and not a minute after!"
"But I've got to look around," pleaded Denver desperately, "I've got tofind both these treasures--one of silver and one of gold--and make mychoice between them."
"Well, that's your business," said Bunker rising up abruptly. "Will youtake that offer or not?"
"No," replied Denver, putting up his purse and Old Bunk glanced at himshrewdly.
"Well, I'll give you a week on it," he said, smiling grimly, and stoodup to look down the trail. Denver looked out after him and there,puffing up the slope, came Professor Diffenderfer, the eminent buttinskyand geologist.
Silver and Gold: A Story of Luck and Love in a Western Mining Camp Page 6
