"Eh? Do you mean that he will come down on us while we are up at the mine?"

"Such things as that have happened. When you see a German you want to look out."

Things went along in Denver as they usually did, and when winter fairly opened on them the boys thought they had never experienced such cold weather before. But it did not interfere with their business in any way. It was not long before Mr. Banta began to talk to them about the things that would be necessary for them to have if they were going to operate their mine successfully, and the boys had a lengthy list of things they would have to buy. They thought they could get along without some of them, but Banta a.s.sured them that everything they had down would be of use to them sooner or later. As time wore on, the prospect of leaving Denver and going off to the mountains alone, where they were destined to encounter some risks that they did not know whether they could stand up against or not, made the boys silent and thoughtful. In Denver they had friends--they were sure of that; but when they got out to their mine they would be left all to themselves, and Julian and Jack did not know what they would make of it. Jack had less to say about it than his companion, but it was plain enough to see that he was not going to back out.

"I tell you I hate to go away and leave all the kind friends we have gathered about us," said Julian, as they left Salisbury's hotel after Mr. Banta had told them that by two weeks from Monday they must be on hand bright and early, all ready to start for the mountains. "I wish I knew what was in that mine."

"So do I; and the only way we can find out is to go and see," replied Jack. "I don't believe in ghosts, but I have heard so much about the things up there in that mine that I am almost ready to give in to them."

There was another thing that Jack thought of, although he did not mention it. Julian had always been one of the first to talk about going to the mine, and he was ready to accuse Jack of cowardice; but when the time for their departure drew near, Julian did not open his mouth. Jack thought of that, but said nothing.

Mr. Banta told them, finally, that they had better go to work and get their things ready, and they set about it in earnest. The first thing they did was to take leave of the students at the college. The boys were all sorry to see them go, and the superintendent said he hoped Julian and Jack had given up the idea of a gold-mine, for they were getting on so rapidly in their studies that he trusted to see them complete the course. He predicted they would come back poorer than when they went away. He had heard of such things before; and, after the young men had eaten up all their provisions, they would be glad to find somebody to grub-stake them back to Denver.

"You will see us back here in the fall," said Julian, confidently. "We are not going to give up our chances of learning something."

"But you may meet your death up there," said the superintendent. "I have often heard of such things."

"I was awfully afraid you were going to say something about the ghosts in our gold-mine," said Jack, as they went down the stairs. "You looked at me several times as though you wanted to say something about it."

"It was right on the end of my tongue," said Julian, "but I thought I had better keep still about it. If we should come back here before fall, they would say right away that we had been frightened out and dared not go back."

Mr. Banta was busy getting his own things together, but he found time now and then to overlook the boys' expenditures. Under his instructions they bought three horses,--two of them for riding, the other intended as a pack-horse to carry their utensils,--and then he led the boys away to a gun-shop, where they were to purchase rifles.

"Look here, Mr. Banta," said Julian; "we don't need anything in here.

We have got a revolver apiece, and, if the truth must be told, we have spent a good deal of time in practicing with them."

"What good will a revolver do you?" asked Banta, greatly surprised.

"If we chance to meet any Indians----"

"But you told us there were no Indians," said Julian. "We don't want to shoot at anybody unless they are close at hand. Maybe they will come in handy on the ghosts, you know."

"Well, you don't know anything about the plains--I can see that, plain enough. If you think revolvers are going to do you, why, I am done with you."

"Then we have purchased everything we want, have we?"

"I think so. Be on hand on Monday morning, because we shall be off before the sun gets an hour high."

The boys drew a long breath when they heard this. If they had not talked so much about visiting their mine it is probable that both of them would have backed squarely out.

CHAPTER XX.

WATERSPOUTS AND BLIZZARDS.

"Hi! Nellie; get on, there! Strike a trot! We won't get to the mountains in seven years, at this gait."

It was Mr. Banta who spoke, and he emphasized his remarks by making the whip he carried in his hand crack loudly. The old, white bell-mare p.r.i.c.ked up her ears and slowly quickened her pace, closely followed by all the pack-mules and horses belonging to the train.

"That old pack-mare knows where we are going as well as we do," said Banta, squaring around and throwing his leg over the horn of his saddle so that he could face the two boys whom he was addressing. "She has been up here so often that she knows every foot of the way. If we get hard up for deer meat, all we have to do is to take her bell off, and then we can go twenty miles out on the prairie, and she will bring us back home again. You can't get lost if you are on her."

"Why do you take the bell off when you want to go hunting with the mare?" asked Julian of Mr. Banta, who, by reason of his age and experience, acted as leader of the company. "Does the noise of the bell frighten the game?"

"That is one reason," replied Banta; "and the other is, we don't want all the pack-mules and horses to follow us. Wherever they hear the bell, they will go to it. If we were on the other side of a wide river, even though it was swimming-deep, and some of these mules don't like water any too well, and should sound that bell a few times, they would all come over. If anything should happen to that old bell-mare, and she should die, we'd send a man on with that bell, and the mules would follow him wherever he went."

It was Monday morning, and the sun was just rising. The cavalcade had been on its way for two hours, for they left the hotel, amid wishes for good luck from all who saw them go, at the first peep of day. They went directly past the hotel at which Julian and Jack had stopped to eat dinner when they first came there, and were now alone in the foothills which arose on all sides of them. There were at least a dozen miners in the company, and they had all set out for Dutch Flat in the hope of digging up a fortune before the winter's storms overtook them. Julian and Jack were there, dressed in rough miners'

clothing, and the horse which bore their provisions and tools was with the others who were following the bell-mare.

Anybody could see at a glance that these boys were tenderfeet, and they did not attempt to deny it. Every other miner had a heavy Winchester slung at his back, while the only firearms the boys exhibited were Smith & Wesson revolvers, which they carried strapped to their waists. They did not look forward to the future with as brave hearts as most of the miners did. They could not get the idea out of their minds that the gold they wanted to find was protected by something which they did not want to see. The miners now and then cast curious looks at them, to see if they were not afraid of the prospect before them, but finally came to the conclusion that the boys were "going through with it." The miners were happy, and sang rude songs and cracked jokes with each other; but the boys were busy with their own thoughts, and took no part in what was going on around them.

"And I don't blame them, either," said one miner, in a low voice, to his companion. "I wouldn't take any part in the singing if I were in their place. They are brave enough now, but wait until they have been up to that mine about two days; then we will see them at our camp, frightened to death."

"Banta has rather taken them under his care, judging by the way he keeps watch over them," said the other miner.

"Yes; he was made acquainted with them by some high man in Denver, and so he keeps an eye on them. But he can't go up to their mine with them. More than that, those ghosts will not stop for him or anybody else."

Julian and Jack were not accustomed to being in the saddle from daylight until dark, and the ride was long and wearisome to them.

They stopped at noon to eat their lunch and to let their animals crop the gra.s.s for a few minutes; but their packs were never removed from them until they halted for the night at a place which showed that there had been a camp before. Lean-to's were scattered around, partly unroofed by the storms of winter, and remnants of fires were to be seen; and Banta said that no one had been there since he and his party made the camp last fall.

"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 quant.i.ty 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 ma.s.s 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 pa.s.sed 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."