The Haunted Mine

"We made this camp while we were going down to the city," said he. "It was raining when we stopped here, and that accounts for the lean-to's. We had a waterspout that night, this little stream was filled twenty feet deep, and some of us began to look wild."

"A waterspout?" queried Jack. "What is that?"

"Why, I don't know that I can describe it so that you can understand it," answered Banta, scratching his head. "It is caused by the large quantity of water that sometimes falls among the hills up-country, and when it all rushes into these ravines – well, you can imagine how it looks, but I cannot describe it. This stream has not much water in it now – you can step across it anywhere; but I have seen it bank full from rains in the up-country, while there was not a drop of it fell here. I remember that night. I was sound asleep in a lean-to. I had told the boys that before morning we would have to get farther up the bank or run the risk of having some of our things carried off, and about midnight I awoke with a feeling that there was something going on. You don't know anything about that, do you? Well, you wait until you have acted as guide for two or three mule-trains, and then you'll know it. Everything depends upon you to see that the train comes out all right.

"I could not go to sleep again when once I woke up, and so I arose and went out. It was still raining heavily, but the brook didn't show much sign of it. I placed myself on the edge of the bank, and hardly had I got there before a long, creamy wave, which extended clear across this gully, crept with a hissing sound across the sand and rocks. Following with equal speed, and about a hundred feet behind it, was another wave, an unbroken mass of water at least five feet in height. It was not rounded into a wave, as at sea or on the lakes, but rose sheer and straight, a perfect wall of water. I knew that in five minutes this little creek would be brim full, so I raised a yell and awoke everybody in camp. The men I had with me were all veterans, and there was no need that I should explain matters. They took just one look at the water, and then grabbed their things and made a rush for the high bank behind the lean-to's. After placing them where they would be safe, they came back and made a rush for the horses. Pete, there, caught the bell-mare, and by dint of pulling and boosting we finally got them to that level spot you see up there."

Mr. Banta pointed to the bank, which seemed almost as straight as the side of a house, and the boys looked on with perfect astonishment.

"How in the world did you get the mules and horses up there?" inquired Julian.

"A man can do a heap of things when he is working for his life and for things that he can't afford to lose," said Banta, with a laugh. "Pete has a heap of strength in those arms of his, and when I get hold of a mule's tail and begin to twist it, he goes somewhere as soon as he can. We got them up easy enough, and there we stayed for two whole days, until the water had all passed away. We didn't lose so much as a pound of bacon. But if I had been asleep, like the rest of the fellows were, we would have had a time of it; somebody would have had to swim for his life, and the current ran like lightning, too."

"I did not know you had to look out for water on the plains," remarked Julian. "Is there anything you don't stand in fear of out here? You see, we want to know it all."

"Well, a waterspout is one thing, and a blizzard is the next," said Banta. "I mean a blizzard where the clouds send down chunks of ice at you as big as your fist. Oh, you needn't laugh. Look at that."

Banta stripped up his leggings, and showed the boys a long, ragged scar which he had received in one of the commotions of nature referred to. The wound must have been a dangerous one.

"And the worst of it was, I did not have a doctor look at it for two weeks," Banta went on. "You see, I was out alone, and making the best track I could for the fort. The sky had all along been hazy, and on this day I had to go across the Twenty-mile desert, where there was not a willow-twig big enough for me to get under. When I was about half-way over it began to rain, and in less than an hour afterward the blizzard came a-ripping. My horse and mule were made so frantic by the pelting of the ice that I finally let them go; but before I released the horse I took my knife and cut the saddle and blankets off him. What did I do that for? Because I was too cold to use my fingers. I settled down there on the prairie, put the saddle and blankets over my head, and waited for the storm to cease; but before I did that, there came a big bunch of ice and struck me on the leg. I never had anything hurt so bad in my life."

"How long did you have to stay there?" asked Jack. "I hear that some of these storms last two or three days."

"This one lasted one day, and I was glad to see the ice quit dropping. I was thirty miles from the fort, and I'll bet I didn't do two miles of walking in all that distance. I left everything except my weapons and crawled all the way. This is the saddle, right here."

"I should keep that for the good it had done," said Julian. "Your saddle probably saved your life."

"It will stay with me while I live," said Banta, casting an affectionate look upon the article in question. "Now, boys, suppose you get ready and chop some wood and start the fire. I'll take the things off the animals and straighten up the lean-to. You boys don't know how to make a lean-to, do you? If you take a good look at this one, you will see how it is done."

There was one satisfaction the boys had in listening to Mr. Banta's stories – they were true, every word of them. If any of the "boys" tried to make things different from what they were, Banta always shut them up. That was the reason the boys thought so much of him, and anything he had to say in regard to working their mine was always listened to with the keenest interest.

The change that a few experienced men made in that deserted camp in a short time was wonderful. Every stroke of the axe counted for something, and every step the men made to and from the places they had chosen to make their beds seemed to count for something else; so that by the time Julian and Jack had cut wood enough to last them all night the lean-to's were covered with fresh boughs, those who did not choose to sleep under shelter had their beds made up under the protecting branches of trees, the animals were staked out, and two of the cooks were busy getting supper. It was all done without the least commotion, for each man knew what his duty was.

"If a rain-storm was coming up you couldn't have made this camp quicker," said Julian. "It beats the world how soon men can get ready for the night."

"Yes, but that comes from experience, you know," said Banta. "Do you know that I have been thinking of something? When we get up to Dutch Flat, and you get ready to go up to your mine, I believe I will go with you."

"That's the best piece of news I have heard for a long time," declared Julian, who was delighted beyond measure. "We don't ask you to go down in the mine, you understand, but if you will just stay there until we get things fixed you will confer a great favor upon us."

"Yes, I guess I had better see to your wants a little," said Banta. "You are tenderfeet, you have never lived alone in the mountains, and perhaps I can tip you a wink now and then that will be of use to you. You will need the mine cleared away – it has all grown up to grass by this time – and you will need a windlass and a lean-to; and maybe I can be of assistance."

"I know you can; and of great assistance, too. I tell you, I feel easier. I have often wondered how that mine looked, and how we were going to get it in shape to work it, but I don't worry about it now. We are much obliged to you for your offer."

"Oh, that's all right. I remember that I was a boy myself, and any such little help as I have offered you would have been a regular blessing to me. Now let us go and see if supper is ready."

Supper was almost ready, and the neat manner in which it was served up, and the way it was cooked, told the boys that if the miners could always get such food as that, they could work their claims to the best possible advantage.

"Can we help you a little?" said Julian to one of the cooks after the meal was over and the man began gathering up the dishes.

"What a-doing?" asked the cook.

"We want to help you wash the dishes," said Julian.

"Why, bless you, that's no trouble. There is only one way you can help us, and that is by sitting by and looking on. I never yet saw a tenderfoot that didn't get in the way. You will have enough of it to do when you get up to that ghost-haunted mine of yours and have to cook your own meals. You had better take my advice," said the cook, in a lower tone, "and stay down on Dutch Flat with us. There are no spirits down there."

"But it is ours, and I don't see why we can't work it," replied Julian. "If there is anybody there, we will make him show himself."

"You will see," said the cook, going to the camp-fire for a bucket of water. "The next time we see you, you will be all ready to go back to Denver."

The cook struck up a whistle as he began washing the dishes, and the boys, taking this as a gentle hint that he would rather be alone, walked off to another fire which had been kindled in the upper end of the camp. All the miners were gathered about there, and each one of them had a story to tell about some wonderful "find" which he had almost struck, and then ceased digging because he was discouraged by the way the gold "showed up." Banta was there, and after relating three or four stories of his own, he began to stretch and yawn as though he were sleepy, and finally arose and went into his lean-to. The boys followed him, hoping he would say something more about going up to their mine with them; but he talked on other topics until he got into bed, and then he became silent. He had already decided what he would do when they reached Dutch Flat, and there the matter ended.

CHAPTER XXI

THE CAMP AT DUTCH FLAT

The boys slept as comfortably as if they had been at home in their boarding-house. It is true their blankets were rather hard, and their pillows were not as soft as they might have been, being simply their saddles with nothing but the horse-blankets over them, but they never knew a thing from the time they went to bed until they heard Mr. Banta's voice roaring out "Catch up!"

They found all in the camp busy. Some were raking the embers of the fire together, others were getting ready to cook breakfast, but most of them were engaged in packing the animals. This last was a task that the boys always wanted to see, for the operation was so complicated that they did not think they could ever learn how to do it. The mules were blinded, in the first place, so that they could not kick when the heavy pack was thrown upon their backs, and the man on the near side, who seemed to "boss" the business, placed his foot against the mule's side and called lustily for the rope which the other fellow held in his hands.

"You have more rope there, and I know it," was the way in which he began the conversation.

"Here you are," said his companion, and the rope was passed over the pack to where the other fellow was waiting to receive it.

"Come, let's have a little more rope," repeated the first man.

"There's oceans of it here, and you can have all you want of it."

"Are you all fast there?"

"I will be in a minute. Here's your end."

"All fast here. Now let us see him kick it off," said the first man; whereupon a dexterous twist tore off the blinders, and the mule was free to go and join his companions. It was all done in two minutes, and the pack was safe to last until the train halted for the night.

"Come on, boys," said Mr. Banta, turning to Julian and Jack, who stood, with towel and soap in their hands, watching the operation of packing the animals. "You must get around livelier than this. When you get to digging out gold by the bucketful you won't wait to wash your faces or get breakfast; you'll be down in that mine before the sun is up."

"Are we not going to eat at all?" asked Julian, who was amused at the man's way of telling them that they would be so anxious to find the gold that they would not spend time to cook their meals.

"Yes, I suppose you will have to eat sometimes, but you will hold your grub in one hand and use the spade with the other."

The miners were in a hurry, now, to resume their journey, and it took them about half as long to eat breakfast as they devoted to their supper. Five minutes was about the time they applied themselves to their meal, and when Mr. Banta arose from his seat on the ground and drew his hairy hand across his mouth to brush away the drops of coffee that clung to his mustache the miners all arose, too. In less time than it takes to tell it they were all in their saddles and under way, and when they stopped again for the night they were in a camp which they had occupied on the way down to Denver. Mr. Banta was as talkative as usual, and when he had got his pipe going, and had taken three or four puffs to make sure that it was well started, he began his round of stories, which the boys were always ready to listen to.

They were all of a week in making their journey; and about three o'clock in the afternoon, when the old bell-mare struck a trot, Mr. Banta turned to Jack and gave him a poke with his finger.

"We are almost home," said he, joyfully. "I don't suppose this will seem like home to you, but it does to me, for it is the only home I have."

"Do you never get tired of this business?" asked Julian. "I should think you would like to go back to the States, where you belong."

"How do you know that I belong in the States?" asked Mr. Banta.

"I judge by your way of talking, as much as anything. You were not raised in this country – I am certain of it."

"Well, I will go back when I get enough."

"How much do you call enough?"

"Half a million dollars."

Julian and Jack opened their eyes and looked surprised.

"I've got three hundred thousand now in the bank at Denver."

"Then you are not so badly off, after all. I think I could live on the interest of that much."

"There are some objections to my going back," said Mr. Banta, looking off toward the distant mountains. "When I get back there I will have to settle down to a humdrum life, and there won't be nothing at all to get up a little excitement. Here the thing is different. We live here, taking gold in paying quantities all the time, and the first thing we know we hear of some new placers, which have been found somewhere else, that make a man rich as fast as he can stick a shovel into the ground. Of course we pack up and go off to find the new placers. We have a muss or two with some outlaws, and when we get rid of them we go to work and find out that there is nothing there."

"Then you wish yourself back at Dutch Flat," said Jack.

"That's the way it happens, oftentimes. It is the excitement that keeps us a-going. Now, in the States I would not have any of that."

"Did you find many outlaws in this country when you first came here?"

"They were thicker than flies around a molasses barrel," answered Mr. Banta. "But we have got rid of them all, and your life is just as safe here as it would be in St. Louis. Whenever we go to a new country, the outlaws are the first things we look out for. There's the camp, all right and tight, just as we left it."

The camp covered a good stretch of ground; but then Mr. Banta had not told them that there were fully two hundred miners in it, and of course such a multitude of men, where nobody owned the land, would spread over a good deal of territory. The boys had a fine opportunity to take a survey of the first mining camp they had ever seen. They were surprised at the neatness of it. Things in the shape of old bottles or tin cans were not scattered around where somebody would stumble over them, but such articles were thrown into a ravine behind the camp, out of sight. The most of the miners had erected little log cabins to protect them from the storms of winter, and the others had comfortable lean-to's which served the same purpose. Most of the men were busy with their mines, but there were three or four of them loafing about, and when the noise made by the pack-animals saluted their ears they turned to see who was coming. One glance was enough; they pulled off their hats and waved them by way of welcome.

"Well, if here ain't Banta!" they all exclaimed in a breath. "Did you drop your roll down at Denver and come back to get more?"

"Nary a time," replied Mr. Banta, emphatically. "We got just what we could eat and drink, and that is all the money we spent. Who has passed in his checks since I have been gone?"

(This was a miner's way of asking "Who's dead?")

"None of the boys who are here shovelling for gold," said the man, coming forward to shake hands with Mr. Banta, "but those four outlaws who came up here from Denver to deal out some whiskey and start a faro bank could tell a different story, if they were here."

"They did not get a foothold here, did they?" asked Mr. Banta.

"I'll bet they didn't. We hardly gave them time to unpack their goods before we jumped on them and spilled their traps on the ground. One of the bums grew huffy at that, and he took a wounded arm down for the doctor to bandage up."

"Have any of the boys made their pile?"

"Some have, and some have not. Tommy Moran has struck a vein with sixty thousand dollars in it, and has been loafing around for the last two months, doing nothing. He went out to-day to see if he can get some more. He wants to go home, now."

"I should not think he would like to travel between here and Denver with that amount of money about him," said Mr. Banta.

"Well, there will be plenty more to join in with him when he is ready to go. The discouraged ones number a heap. The sign looks right, but the paying-stuff don't pan out first-rate. Some are going home, and the rest are going off to hunt up new diggings."

Having briefly got at the news of what had been going on at the camp while he had been away, Mr. Banta led the way toward his own log cabin, which was fastened up just as it was when he left it. There was one bed, made of rough boards, an abundance of dishes, a fireplace, and one or two chairs, and that was all the furniture to be seen. But Mr. Banta thought his cabin just about right.

"It don't matter how hard it rains or blows, this little house has sheltered me for a year, and has got to do so until my vein gives out. Now, boys, catch the pack-animals and turn them over to me, and I'll soon make things look as though somebody lived here."

Julian and Jack managed to secure the pack-animals by catching the bell-mare and leading her up to the door of the cabin, and it was not long before the bundles which they had borne for two hundred miles were placed on the ground, and Mr. Banta was engaged in carrying the things into his house. He unpacked all the bundles except the one that belonged to the boys, and that would not be opened until they reached their mine.

"Are you fellows decided on that matter yet?" he asked. "Had you not better stay with us here on the Flat? We will promise you that no spooks will trouble you here."

"The more you talk about that mine, the more determined we are to see what is in it," answered Jack. "You need not think you can scare us out in that way."

"I like your pluck, and if you are determined to go there, why, I am going with you. It is only five miles, and we can easily ride over there in two hours."

"Where is it you are going?" asked one of the miners, who stood in the doorway unobserved.

"You know that haunted mine, don't you?"

"Great Moses! You ain't a-going up there!" said the man; and as he spoke he came into the cabin and sat down in one of the chairs.

"The boys are going there, and I thought I would go with them to see them started," said Mr. Banta. "The mine is all grown up to grass, because there hasn't been anybody up there for some time now."

"No, I should say not!" exclaimed the miner, as soon as he had recovered from his astonishment. "Are the boys plumb crazy? I tell you, lads, when you see – "

"Tony, shut your mouth!" cried Mr. Banta. "The boys won't see anything, but they'll hear something that will take all the sand out of them. I have talked to the boys many times about that mine, during the past winter, but they have their heads set on it, and I don't see any other way than to let them go."

"Well, if we hear anything, there must be something that makes the noise," asserted Julian.

"It will be something that you can't see," said the miner, shaking his head and looking thoughtfully at the ground. "Two fellows went up there since I knew the mine, and when they got down to the bottom of the pit they were so frightened that they came down here as fast as they could and struck out for Denver. They were both big, stout men, and were armed with Winchesters and revolvers. If they had seen what made the noise, they would have been apt to shoot – wouldn't they?"

"I should think they would," answered Jack.

"Will you go down into the mine when you get there?" asked the man, turning to Mr. Banta.

"Not much, as anybody knows of," declared the latter, shivering all over. "The ghosts don't bother anybody working at the top, so I shall get along all right."

"Well, that puts a different look on the matter," remarked Tony, evidently much relieved. "Then I shall expect to see you back in two or three days."

"Yes, I'll be back by that time," asserted Mr. Banta; and he added to himself, "if anything happens to the boys after that, why, I shall be miles away."

This was the first time that Mr. Banta had anything to say to the miners about what he intended to do when he reached Dutch Flat, but it was all over the camp in less than five minutes. The miner went slowly and thoughtfully out of the cabin, as if he did not know whether it was best to agree to his leader's proposition or not, and it was not long before the men who were busy with things about their houses came up in a body to inquire into the matter. They were filled with astonishment; and, furthermore, they were anxious to see the boys who were going to take their lives in their hands and go up to work that pit, from which strong men had been frightened away. And it was so when six o'clock arrived, and the men all came in to get their supper. Some of the miners declared that it was not to be thought of, and some said that if Mr. Banta was bound to go, they would go with him to see that he came out all right.

"You see what the miners think of this business," remarked Mr. Banta, as he began preparations for their supper. "They think you are out of your heads."

"Well, you will not see anything of it, because you won't go into the mine," said Jack.

"You are mighty right I won't go into the mine," declared Mr. Banta, looking furtively about the cabin, as if he expected to see something advancing upon him. "We will go up there and put the pit all right, and then you will have to work it."

"I wonder if there is any gold up there?" asked Julian.

"There is more gold up there than you can see in Dutch Flat in a year's steady digging. The men who have been down in the mine say so."

"Well, when we come back you may expect to see us rich," said Julian, compressing his lips. "And you may be sure that the spooks won't drive us out, either."

This was all that was said on the subject – that is, by those in the cabin; but when the men had eaten their suppers they all crowded into it, and the stories that would have been told of ghosts interfering with miners who tried to take away their precious belongings would have tested the boys' courage; but Mr. Banta did not allow them to go on.

"As I told these boys down at Denver, I am telling them nothing but facts in regard to this mine, and I want you to do the same," said he. "Don't draw on your imagination at all."

Before the miners returned to their cabins, it came about that the boys were going to have a small army go with them on the morrow. At least a dozen miners declaimed their readiness to go with Banta "and see him through," and Banta did not object.

"The more, the merrier," said he, when they had been left alone and he turned down his bedclothes. "Now, you boys can spread your blankets on the floor in front of the fire and go to sleep; I will have you up at the first peep of day."