Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of California

"We are out of the main stream, that's sartin," Hiram said, "though where we are is more nor I can tell till we get daylight."

Frank took the lantern and climbed up the bough which served as a lookout. It was pitch dark outside, and the surface of the water was no longer broken by white heads.

"Yes, we are certainly out of the main river, Hiram, and in behind some big islands. Where do you think it could be?"

"I reckon, lad, we are somewhere down near the mouth of the Arkansas. The stream has been running mighty strong for the last two days, and the wind, catching all these branches, must have helped us along a good bit. I reekon we can't be far away from the Arkansas. It's a bad stroke of luck drifting in here; we may expect to get hung up somewhere, and we shall be in a nice fix then, out of sight of boats going up and down, and with miles and miles of swamp stretching back from the shore. However, it will be time to think of that to-morrow. There ain't nothing for us to do; just lend us a hand, and we will get this iron plate off the roof. The tarpaulin keeps off the rain, and I will fetch a couple of blankets, and we can stretch ourselves out here; I despise going to sleep sitting up."

Frank was sound asleep in a few minutes. He had a confused notion of feeling a slight jerking motion, and of hearing Hiram say, "There, she is anchored"; but he did not suffer this to rouse him, and, dropping off, slept soundly till morning. At the first stir Hiram made he was awake.

"We have had a goodish spell of sleep, I reckon, lad, and I feel all the better for having had my legs stretched out straight."

"So do I, ever so much; the wind seems to have gone quite down, and it has stopped raining."

"We shall have the sun up soon."

Frank was soon up in the lookout.

"I can see trees on both sides of us, but I can make out nothing more than that; there's a mist hanging over them, though it's clear enough on the water. We are not moving."

"I could have told you that," Hiram said, "didn't we get fast on something before we went to sleep last night?"

"Oh, I forgot about that; I was just off when you spoke, and didn't quite take it in. We are quite out of the current; the water is moving very sluggishly past us."

"So much the worse, lad; that's just what I fancied. We have got blown out of the stream, and got in behind some of the islands, and are perhaps at the mouth of one of the loops where there ain't no stream to speak of; useful enough they are when you are making your way up-stream, but no-account places to get stuck in. Now you darkeys below there, wake up, and let's have some food; you will soon have the sun up to warm you and dry your clothes a bit. By the time we have had our breakfast," he went on to Frank, "the mist will have lifted, and we shall have some chance of seeing where we have been cast away, and can talk over what's the best thing to be done in this here business."

The iron plate was replaced on the cabin, the fire was lit, and coffee and fried bacon were soon ready. The first sparkle of the sun through the leaves brought a shout of delight from the negroes, and directly the meal was over they cut away some of the small branches and let the sun stream in on to the roof of the cabin.

"That's enough, boys," Hiram said; "by midday we shall be glad of the shade. Now, let you and I light our pipes, lad, and take a survey, and then talk this job over."

On looking round, they found that the passage, or creek, in which they were was some eighty yards wide; ahead it seemed to narrow; behind them, a bend shut out the view a quarter of a mile away.

"That's just what I expected. You see we have drove in here, and there's been just current enough to drift us on till the lower branches touched the bottom or caught in a snag; the water ain't flowing half a mile an hour now, and I reckon when the water begins to drop, which will be in a few days, if it holds fine, there won't be no current to speak of."

"But we are not going to stay here a few days, are we, Hiram?"

"Well, lad, I ain't no particular wish to stay here no time at all, if you will just pint out the way for us to be moving on."

"Well, we could all swim ashore," Frank said; "the distance is nothing, and all the blacks swim."

"And how fur do you reckon the shore to be, lad?"

"About forty yards," Frank said.

"I reckon it to be miles, lad – twenty, perhaps, or forty for aught I know."

Frank looked at his companion in surprise.

"Yes, that is about it, lad. Don't you see them trees are all growing out by the water, and what looks to you like low bush is just the top of the underwood. The river, I reckon, must have riz twenty feet, and all this low land is under water. As I told you, we are near the mouth of the Arkansas, and for miles and miles the country ain't much better than a swamp at the best of times. You can swim to them trees, and roost up in the branches, if the fancy takes yer, and may be we may decide that's the best thing to do, when we have talked it over; but as to getting to land, you may put that notion out of your head altogether. I told you, lad, last night, I didn't like the lookout, and I don't like it a bit better this morning, except that I look to be dry and comfortable in another hour. What's to come after that I don't quite see."

Frank was silent. The prospect, now that he understood it, was unpleasant indeed. There they were with a disabled and waterlogged boat, in the middle of a district submerged for many miles, and surrounded beyond that by fever-stricken swamps, while the prospect of any craft happening to come along was remote indeed. For some minutes he smoked his pipe in silence.

"You consider it impossible for us to make our escape through the wood."

"Just unpossible, lad. We might make our way from tree to tree, like a party of monkeys, but we should get to creeks where we couldn't cross; we should be half our time swimming. We could take no food to speak of with us; we should get lost in the swamps, if ever we got through the forest. No, lad; my present idea is it is unpossible, though, if we detarmines at last there ain't nothing else for us to do but to try for it, Hiram Little ain't the man to die without making a hard fight for his life; but I tell you, lad, I looks on it as unpossible. You have been on these banks with me, and you know how thick the trees and bushes grow, so that a snake could hardly make his way through them. When the river is at her level the ground ain't about a foot or two out of water, and when the river falls – and it mayn't fall to its level for weeks – it will just be a swamp of mud."

"Well, in that case," Frank said, "it seems to me that our only chance is to repair the boat."

"That's just my idee, young fellow. There is a biggish hole on each side, the ribs are smashed in, and a lot of damage is done, but we could make a shift to mend it if we could get her ashore; but there ain't no shore to get her to, that's the mischief of it; besides, here we are stuck, and if we were to cut away the tree to loose her she would go straight to the bottom."

"Yes, we mustn't cut her loose before we are alongside something. My idea is that if we first of all cut off all the boughs that are above us, close to the trunk, that will make a good deal of difference in the weight, and we should float higher. Then, with hatchet and saw, we must get rid of those below, taking a rope first to the trees and hauling her closer and closer alongside them as we get rid of the weight, till at last there is only the trunk and these two great arms that have nipped her. I think that way we might get alongside the trees."

"I reckon we might, lad. Yes, I don't see much difficulty about that. And what shall we do when we get there?"

"I should get under a big tree, like that one over there, with that great arm stretching over the stream. We've got plenty of ropes, and I should fasten them from her bow and stern, and from her thwarts, tight to that arm overhead. When I got her fixed, I would chop away one of these arms that grip her, and let her float free. We have no tackle that would be of any use in hoisting her, but if we take the plug out of her bottom, she will empty as the river sinks, and hang there. Once she is in the air there will be no difficulty in patching her up."

"That's a capital idee, young fellow," Hiram exclaimed, giving Frank a mighty pat on the shoulder. "I do believe it is to be done that way. I tell you, I did not see my way out of this fix nohow, but you have hit upon it, by gosh! Here, you darkies, get them axes and saws out of the cabin, and clear away this forest."

An hour's work cleared away all the wood above water. The sun was by this time well above the trees; the negroes woke up to life and cheerfulness in its warmth, and worked vigorously.

"Before we do anything more," Frank said, "I will swim with a light line to that tree, and then haul the tow-rope after me, and make it fast to it; it is possible that when we cut away some of the other boughs the whole affair may turn over and sink, but if the tow-rope is fast we may be able to drag it alongside."

When the rope was attached to the tree, they proceeded with their work. The two great arms were chopped through just beyond the point at which the boat was wedged, thus getting rid of the whole of the upper part of the tree.

"She's free now," Hiram said. "Stand in the middle of the boat, you boys; I can feel that a very little would sway her over now."

The bow sank some inches, and fully half the boat was submerged.

"Now, you and I will get out at this end of the trunk, lad, and tow her in, stern foremost."

They got within ten yards of the tree before she again stuck, and it took them some hours' work to cut away the branch which projected under water; but at last this was done, and the boat was placed in position under the arm of the great tree they had pitched upon, and a number of ropes fastened firmly to the arm.

"Now we will have some dinner," Hiram said; "and while Pete is cooking it we will get ashore with the saw and cut the heads off some of these small trees, and fasten them to this trunk, so as to make a sort of raft that we can put all these tubs on. The ropes would never hold her with her cargo on board. I reckon some of the sugar is spoilt; but the boss always has good casks, and may be there ain't much damage done. The rum is right enough, and I reckon there won't be much spoilt except them bales of calico."

They worked hard, but it was late in the evening before the raft was formed and the cargo all shifted into it.

"Now, we will just chop off this arm and free her," Hiram said, "and then we can stretch ourselves out for the night. We have done a tidy day's work, I reckon, and have arned our sleep."

The arm was chopped through, and the boat was freed from the tree which had, in the first place, so nearly destroyed it, but which, in the end, had proved their means of safety. The raft was fastened alongside by a rope, and the negroes betook themselves to it for the night, while the two white men, as before, lay down to sleep on the cabin-top.

CHAPTER VIII.

STARTING FOR THE WEST

THE next morning they found, to their satisfaction, that the river had sunk nearly a foot. The boat had risen considerably when the cargo had been removed the evening before, and the ropes overhead had been proportionately tightened, so that she now hung so high that the rents were well out of water, and they were able at once to set about the work of repair. There were tools on board, for during their prolonged trips it was often necessary to execute repairs of one kind or other. The flooring-boards were utilised for the repairs, and by evening the holes were closed effectually.

The next day the work was strengthened by additional ribs and stringers, a coat of pitch was put on outside and in, and Hiram pronounced the work complete. From time to time the ropes had been loosened as the river continued to fall, although less rapidly, and it was thought well not to put too great a strain upon them. The next morning the plug was again driven into the bottom of the boat, and they set to work to pump and bale her out, and then shifted the cargo back again from the raft. This was not a long job, and at night, after a great washing-up of the cabins, to get rid of the mud that had been left there, they had the satisfaction of taking possession of their old quarters.

"Well, lad," Hiram said, when they lighted their pipes after supper, "I never thought we were coming so well out of that job. With plenty of rice and sugar, not to speak of rum, on board, I didn't expect we war going to starve, but I thought we might have been weeks and weeks – ay, months, may be – before any one came along, and the thought as came into my mind was as we should have to make a raft and pole along till we got out into the river again. However, here we are, with the boat not much the worse, and everything on board ready for a start in the morning; and it's thanks to you as we have done it, for I am free to say as I don't think as I should have hit on this plan as we have carried out. You are a good mate to work with, lad, and no mistake. I don't wish never to get a better. It's a pity ye don't mean to stick to it for good, for I can swar that you would make one of the best hands on the Mississippi, in time."

The journey down the river was continued next morning. At the first place they stopped at they heard reports of widespread damage, of great tracts submerged, and of danger to life; the river was still at full flood, although it had fallen two feet from its highest level, and the next ten days were spent in rescuing the unfortunate people from the tops of the houses, trees, and patches of rising ground on which they had taken refuge. Then, having done all they were able, and the river having now fallen nearly to its average level, they continued their voyage down to New Orleans.

Hiram, in his report of the voyage to his employer, spoke in high terms of Frank's conduct, and ascribed to his quickness of invention their escape from what seemed likely to be an almost endless detention.

"But I am afraid he has made his last v'yage with me," he said; "he is talking of striking out across the plains to Californy. There was a good talk of gold thar before we started; and last night, after we came in, and went in for a drink and to hear the news, there didn't seem nothing else to talk about. The young chap was asking all sorts of questions, and I expect he's off; and I don't know as I blames him. He's the sort of fellow to get on. He has plenty of grit; he's strong and active now, and in a couple of years he will widen out and make a very big man. He's had a first-rate edication – he don't talk about it, but one would be blind not to see that – he will make his way wherever he goes, and I don't blame him for striking out from the river. He likes the river, too; but it ain't the place for making a fortin, unless you've got money at your back, as you have, boss. But I don't know if he had money, and could go into steamers and such-like, that he would stick to it.

"I don't know nowt of his history, but I think things must have gone hard with him somehow, and he came out here for excitement more than for making money. But there's nothing reckless about him; he don't drink, and he don't gamble, and it says a lot for a young fellow in New Orleans that he don't do one or the other. And he can fight, he can; there ain't no doubt about that. Why, I saw him give the biggest kind of a thrashing to the bully of a lumber camp, where we moored up alongside one night, as ever you seed. The chap was big enough to eat him, but he didn't have no kind of show. The young un just hit him where he liked, and in five minutes that chap's face was a thing to see, and the lad never got so much as a scratch. I wouldn't have thought as a man could have used his hands like that if I hadn't been thar. I shall be right-down sorry to lose him."

"I knew well-nigh when I took him on that he was not likely to stay, Hiram; he said as much. He wanted to get to know something about the ways of the country before he decided upon anything. If all young fellows would do as he did, go to work for a few months, instead of loafing about spending their money, and getting into bad ways, and among bad fellows, it would be better for them; he has only drawn a few dollars for his expenses – when he was down the last time – since he came to work, so he has got a good sum due to him. I will have a talk with him myself. There are a good many parties starting from here and taking the Santa Fé route; but, taking them all in all, I don't think I should recommend him to hang on to one of them."

"No, I should guess they would be a pretty hard lot who would go out from here – gamblers, and horse-thieves, and runaway sailors, and Mexican fighters – neither good to travel with or good to work with; he had better go up and strike from St. Louis."

"He had better go higher still, Hiram; there's a northern route, and I hear a lot of the Western men are making across that. However, I will talk to him."

That afternoon Frank went into Mr. Willcox's little office.

"Hiram has been speaking in very high terms of you, and I find that I am indebted to you for the saving of the boat, with what cargo she had on board, which Hiram said he had altogether given up as lost. You seem to have been in a position of very great danger, and to have had an extraordinarily narrow escape of your lives. However, I can understand that you are not content to settle down for life on the Mississippi, but I can tell you that with enterprise, judgment, and steadiness there is fortune to be made here still. I am not surprised that the gold-seeking mania has got hold of you."

"It is not so much, sir, the gold-seeking mania as the excitement attending it. I don't think I particularly care about making money, but I do want the excitement of such a life. I have come out for that, and not, as it is generally called, to make my fortune. The course of my life at home has been upset by circumstances into which I need not enter, and, at any rate for a time, I want action, and excitement. After that, perhaps, I may think of settling down, and what is called making my way."

"I can understand your feeling, lad, and will not try to persuade you to stop at this business. And now, what route are you thinking of taking across the continent?"

"I was thinking of joining a party going direct from here across to Santa Fé."

"I don't think that will be a good plan, lad. The caravans from here are composed, for the most part, of very hard characters, the sort of men who would shoot you for your horse if they took a fancy to it; I would by no means advise you to ally yourself with such men. I can, I think, put you in the way of a better plan than that. I find that a great number of caravans from the West are going by a northern route which crosses the Missouri at a point called Omaha. I have been thinking that this will become an important place, and have made up my mind to freight four or five flats with flour, bacon, and other goods of all sorts, and a frame store, and to go up there and open a business. I shall want a handy man with me at first; I shall take up a storekeeper to leave there in charge, but at first he will want help. If you like to go up in charge of one of the scows, and to stay to help put up the store and set things running, I will give you a hundred dollars, and you can have your passage up for your horse, which I should advise you to buy here. You will get one that will carry you, though of course not much to look at, for about fifty dollars; I know several horse-dealers here, and will get one for you if you like. You had also better get a stout pony to carry your traps and provisions; that will cost about forty dollars. Then you must have a rifle and a Colt. These are absolutely necessary for such a journey, for I hear that the Indians are very troublesome on the plains. These, however, I myself shall have much pleasure in presenting you with, in testimony of the obligation I feel I owe you for saving my boat and goods. The hundred dollars that are due to you, and the hundred that you will further earn at Omaha, will be sufficient for your horses and outfit, which will leave this money which you placed in my hands untouched. You will find that very useful, for you will want to buy a tent and provisions and tools out there, and money to keep you till you hit upon gold. Well, what do you think of my offer?"

"I am extremely obliged to you, sir; nothing could suit me better. And I am indeed greatly obliged for your kind offer of a rifle and revolver; they will certainly be most necessary, by what one hears of the journey."

"You have some other clothes, I suppose?"

"Yes, sir; I have another suit in my portmanteau."

"Very well, put them on, and come back here in an hour's time. It will be a week before my steamer starts, and you had better come and stop with me till then; it will keep you out of mischief, and I should be glad of your company."

At the appointed time Frank returned to the office, dressed in the suit of clothes he had brought with him. A light carriage with a pair of horses was standing at the door.

"Ah!" Mr. Willcox laughed, as he came out, "I fancy you look more like yourself now."

Frank took his place in the carriage, Mr. Willcox took the reins, the negro servant sprang up behind, and they were soon rattling through the streets of the town.

Mr. Willcox's house was situated two miles out of the city. It was a large building, with a verandah running round it, and standing in well-kept and handsome grounds; three or four negroes ran out as the carriage drove up.

"Sam, take this gentleman's portmanteau upstairs, and get a bath ready for him at once, and lay out a suit of white clothes for him.

"We always have a bath before dinner in this country," he said to Frank; "one wants to get rid of the dust of the day. Dinner will be ready in half an hour."

After enjoying a luxurious bath, and attiring himself in a suit of snowy-white gear, Frank descended to the dining-room.

Mr. Willcox was a widower, without children, and they therefore dined alone. As they were sitting over their wine after dinner in the verandah, Frank's host said, "I do not wish to be inquisitive, but if you don't mind telling me, I should like to know why a young fellow like yourself should embark upon a life of adventure."

Frank had met with such kindness from his employer, that he frankly told him the whole history of the events which had driven him from England.

"It is a singular story," the trader said, "and I own that appearances were against you. Of course I don't know him, and may be misjudge him altogether, but the only person who appears to me to have had any interest whatever in getting you into disgrace, and causing you to leave the country, is your cousin."

"Fred Barkley," Frank exclaimed, in surprise; "I can assure you such an idea never entered my mind; he is not at all a bad fellow, though certainly he is not popular at School."

"I should prefer taking the general verdict of the School to yours," the trader said; "boys are seldom far out in their estimate of persons; they have more instinct than men, and a boy is seldom far wrong in his estimate of character.

"The fact that he is generally unpopular is, in my mind, a proof that there is something wrong about this cousin of yours. Then what you tell me, that he refused to lend you the money which would have got you out of your scrape, while he afterwards came forward with twenty pounds to enable you to get away, is another strong point. The advice which he gave you was distinctly bad; for you had much better have remained, and to the last have protested your innocence. Then there is another point. Did I gather from your words that you and he are the nearest relations to the wealthy uncle with whom you lived?"

"Yes, that is so," Frank replied.

"Then, in case of your disgrace, it is by no means improbable that your uncle will leave him the whole of the money. Is that so?

"I have no doubt of it," Frank assented.

"Then you see he has a very strong interest in bringing you into discredit. Besides there were only, you say, five people who had any knowledge of this affair, and of your need for the money. None of the other four had the slightest possible interest in bringing you into disgrace; he had a very strong interest, and, take my word for it, your cousin is at the bottom of the whole affair."