Barkerville Gold (7 page)

Rusty checked out the map's legend. Just as he suspected, the log houses showed where miners' cabins had been located, the squares were openings to mine shafts, and the wheels identified Cornish waterwheels. With growing excitement, he opened
Spirits of the Cariboo
and skimmed through the Three Finger Evans story once more.

Beside him, his cousin was still writing like mad in her notebook, which set Rusty to wondering what she could possibly write about for so long. He leaned closer.

“Get away, Rusty!” Katie shrieked and picked up one side of the book to block his view. She glared at him over it, her brown eyes furious.

Okay, now that he had her full attention, he may as well take advantage of it. “Look at this!” he said.

Katie frowned, glanced at the map, back down at her notebook, then over at the map again. She snapped her notebook shut and clutched it in one hand as she slid along the bench to see the map better.

“One of those little cabins must have belonged to Three Finger Evans,” Rusty said.

Katie nodded. “But which one?”

“The book says his cabin was northwest of Barkerville toward Lowhee Creek. And look here,” he placed a finger on the map, “there's a cabin right there on Lowhee Trail—do you think it's the same trail that starts here at the campground?”

“Could be. There's one way to find out for sure.”

They looked at Sheila. She was leaning back on a folding chair under the awning, earphones on, eyes closed, fingers snapping and feet tapping to her favorite music. The two cousins nodded at one another and smiled.

“This is the best hamburger I ever ate in my life,” Rusty said, using the back of his hand to wipe away the juices that ran down his chin.

“Yes,” Gram agreed, “you look like you're enjoying it.”

“Sheila wants to go for a walk up the Lowhee Walking Trail after supper,” Katie said. “Don't you, Sheila?”

Next to Katie at the picnic table, Sheila had a mouthful of hamburger. Her blue eyes opened wide with surprise, but all she could do was nod.

“Aren't you kids tired?” GJ asked. “We've had a busy day.”

“Nope!” Rusty said. “I can hardly wait to go for a walk. Besides,” he patted his stomach, “I need some exercise to work up an appetite for dessert.”

GJ shook his head. “I don't know where you get all that energy!”

“We can have dessert when you get back,” Gram said, “but don't forget you've got to clean up the dishes before you leave.”

When they walked out of their campsite, they turned right and headed along the front road as far as the entrance road. There they turned right again, cut through to the back road and headed for the trail.

“Look!” Rusty whispered to Katie.

Near the bottom of Lowhee Trail, a man moved quickly, his hands jammed into his pockets. He was dressed in period costume, complete with wide-brimmed hat, bandanna, checked shirt, vest and pants tucked into high boots. They caught a glimpse of white beard before he disappeared up the trail.

9
Spy or Be Spied Upon

W
hy do I get the feeling this isn't exactly going to be a nature hike?” Sheila said as they started up the trail.

“Are you kidding?” Rusty asked. “Why else would we go traipsing through the woods?”

“We know how much you like nature hikes,” Katie added, “so here we are.”

Sheila's eyes darted suspiciously from one to the other of the cousins, then were drawn toward the steep, well-groomed trail that lead invitingly into a forest of lodgepole pine, fir and spruce. “Okay,” she said finally, “just be really quiet and we might see some wildlife.”

Sheila led the way while Rusty, last in line, concentrated on keeping up with the girls and keeping his mouth shut. He wondered what sort of wildlife they might see. He thought about bears. And he thought about the two chocolate bars he stashed in his backpack before leaving the campsite.

If bears could smell chocolate right through the wrappers, then the best way to get rid of the scent would be to eat the chocolate bars. Problem solved. He stopped and slid his backpack from his shoulders, but then another thought struck him.
Aren't you supposed to make tons
of noise if bears are around?

Hurriedly pulling on his backpack, Rusty started up the trail after the girls, singing loud enough to burst a lung. Even so, he expected at any minute to go winging around a corner and come face to face with a bear. Not just any bear, but a huge, angry mother bear determined to protect her cubs.

He stopped. Listened. Nothing. Where were Katie and Sheila?
But wait, what was that
? His heart thudded into his ribs. He held his breath.
There it was again
!
A
footstep
?

Thud.

Yes! Heavy, plodding footsteps. Behind him. Getting closer. A chill shot through him. Certain that a black bear was hot on the scent of his chocolate bars, Rusty took off as fast as he could run up the steep trail. He sped around one bend and then another until, gasping for air, he came to a fork in the trail. He glanced from left to right, danced from one foot to the other. Which way? He could feel that angry bear closing in on him, almost smell its powerful odor.

Sheila would know what to do. She and her mom went backpacking in the mountains all the time. He had to find the girls. But left or right? Right or left? Why did they take off without him? Was it a trick? Were they trying to get rid of him once and for all? Feed him to a hungry mother bear?

Then he noticed it. Impaled on a bush by the right-hand trail was a sheet of lined paper, just like the ones in Katie's notebook. He ripped it from the bush. Printed in pencil were the initials “K” and “S”, with an arrow pointing up the trail. Rusty scrunched up the paper, glanced back and took off. Up and up he ran, but the trail seemed to get steeper with every stride until, legs aching, lungs straining, he hobbled around a corner and there they were.

“Rusty!” Katie said. “What happened to you? We were starting back to look for you.”

Rusty opened his mouth to say,
A bear!
But he was so short of breath, all that came out was, “A b...!”

“A buh?” Sheila asked, frowning.

Rusty gulped air through his mouth but could not draw enough oxygen into his lungs. A pulse beat loud and hard in his ears. Feeling dizzy, he bent forward, hands on knees. Sheila took several steps down the trail until she could see around the bend. She stopped, listened and ran back. “Quick!” she whispered. “Into the bushes!”

It seemed to Rusty that hiding in the bushes might not be the best plan with a hungry bear on their trail, but he had no energy to object. He followed the girls through the undergrowth toward a big fir tree. Sheila reached the fir, squeezed behind it and peered out the other side. “Get down!”

Katie and Rusty ducked.

Enveloped in thick bush, Rusty listened for the deep
woof
,
woof
,
woof
of a black bear's breathing. Instead he heard footsteps. They came closer and closer up the trail until they were opposite his hiding place. They stopped. Rusty squeezed his eyes shut. He would have held his breath, but his lungs cried so desperately for oxygen that he concentrated instead on breathing as softly as possible. Any second now the powerful animal would charge into the bushes, growling, swiping those giant paws, those long, sharp claws at anything that breathed. “Oh please, oh please, oh please!” he whispered. “Please don't let me get eaten!”

The bushes behind him rustled. A heavy paw landed on his shoulder. “WHA.” Rusty leaped to his feet, ready to run screaming through the bushes, to climb the nearest tree, to…

“It's okay now,” Katie said. “He's gone.”

“The bear?”

Katie's forehead crinkled, her left eyebrow rose. “What bear? I'm talking about the man who walked past us. Come on, we need to follow him before he gets away!”

Rusty followed his cousin through the bushes back to the trail. Sheila was already there, pacing back and forth, fists clenched, bristling with anger. “You knew about this, didn't you? Both of you!” Beneath her freckles, Sheila's face flushed pink. Her bright blue eyes flashed from Rusty to Katie. “I knew I couldn't trust you two!
Why
else would we go traipsing through the woods?
Oh, sure, Rusty!
We know how much you like nature hikes!
Right, Katie!”

Sheila raised her fists, pressed them against her cheeks. “I don't know how, but you two knew that man was coming up here and you wanted to follow him!” She dropped her hands. “So you pretended to be nice! You pretended to do something I like for a change! How could I be so stupid?”

Rusty studied the toes of his sneakers. Did they really do that? Did they
pretend
to be nice? And what did she mean,
something I like for a change
? He was the one who felt left out, not Sheila.

“You're wrong, Sheila,” Katie told her. “We wanted to explore the trail. We had no idea about that man coming up here—we don't even know who he is, do we, Rusty?”

Rusty shook his head. Sheila glared straight through him. He looked down at his sneakers again and thought about the maps stashed in his backpack along with the chocolate bars. “Okay, I admit,
maybe
we wanted to check out other stuff besides wildlife, but we didn't know anyone else would be up here. How could we?”

“Except for that man we saw at the start of the trail,” Katie added.

There was a long silence while everyone glared at everyone else. Finally Sheila's shoulders slumped and she said, “Sorry, guys. It's just…” She drew a deep breath. “Sometimes I feel, you know, kind of left out? Because you guys are all family and I'm, well, I'm not. And…” she bit her lip, “the worst thing is, my own mother doesn't even want me around!”

“It's for your own good,” Rusty reminded her and suddenly felt like his father. “Because she's busy working all summer.”

“And because she thought you'd have fun with us,” Katie said. “I thought you were having fun.”

“I am.” Sheila sighed. “But don't you ever get homesick?”

Katie and Rusty shook their heads. “We go on vacation with Gram and GJ every summer,” Katie explained. “Usually it's just for a couple of weeks though.”

“Okay. Maybe that's why I feel left out. I keep thinking Rusty doesn't want me here.”

“Me? Ha!” Rusty said. “Are you kidding? You think I want to be left alone with Katie? Can you imagine what sort of trouble she'd get me into?”

For a moment Katie looked angry, but when Sheila burst out laughing, they all did, breaking the tension. Then Katie asked, “But why did you think we knew about that man? Who is he? I didn't even see him.”

“It was that old prospector guy with the white beard.”

“Prospector Man?” Rusty said. “That's impossible. We saw him go up the trail ahead of us. Hey! He must have hid in the bushes, just like we did, and watched us go by. He's following us!”

“If he is,” Sheila pointed out, “he isn't doing a very good job.”

“One thing's for sure,” Katie said, “if we waste any more time we'll never catch up to him, and we really need to find out what he's up to, so let's go!”

Rusty and Sheila watched Katie's swiftly retreating back. Her bright red T-shirt was the last thing to disappear through the trees.

Rusty knew Sheila was still unhappy, in spite of what she said, but he could not believe that Sheila, of all people, felt left out. Why should she? If anyone felt left out, it should be him. And he did sometimes. He liked Sheila. Really. But she was Katie's friend, not his. So what was he supposed to do now? How could he make her feel welcome?

“Please, Sheila, come with us? I'm really gonna need your help with Katie.” Okay, maybe that didn't quite do the trick. “I mean—I really like you, Sheila.”

Oh, man! That didn't sound right either. Rusty felt his face turn bright red. Sheila gave him an odd look, as if she weren't quite sure what to think.

“That is…I mean…” Rusty stammered.

To his relief, Sheila grinned and lightly punched his shoulder. “Don't worry, Rusty, I know what you're trying to say. Come on, we'd better catch up with Katie.”

Around every bend, Rusty expected to see Katie just ahead of them, but the path continued on and on forever, climbing, turning, twisting this way and that, until he was once again struggling to pull enough oxygen into his lungs.

Where was Katie?
Puff…puff…gasp…
How did she get so far ahead?
Gasp… puff…puff…
His feet felt heavy, his legs ached. “Sheila!” he breathed. “I need a rest!” But she didn't hear him.

Rusty dragged himself around the next bend and saw Sheila, her back to him, head twisted to one side.

“What?” he whispered.

“I heard something.”

He listened. What he heard was the sound of air wheezing into his lungs. If Sheila heard something else, he really didn't care right now. He was happy enough simply to stand still.

Sheila charged into the bushes.

Rusty groaned and followed her up a steep, almost overgrown path that was rocky underfoot and slippery with moss kept damp by a trickle of water that snaked around the rocks. All he could see of Sheila was a patch of blue T-shirt through the foliage. She stopped again. “Listen!”

Rusty heard a faint sound, but whether it was a human voice or the whisper of water or even the sigh of wind in the trees above his head, he could not determine. Then Sheila pointed at something ahead of them, almost hidden in the trees. A patch of red. A T-shirt. Katie.

Crouched low, she motioned at them, but when they came up beside her, Katie's eyes were fixed on something farther ahead. About ten meters away, partially hidden by thick undergrowth, a figure stood absolutely still. Although he had not seen the man who passed them on the trail, Rusty knew instantly this was him. He was dressed in prospector's clothing, complete with red-and-black-checked shirt, but his head was bare. His back to them, he held his wide-brimmed hat at his side.