Devil's Canyon (35 page)

“Then let's set it off and see what happens,” said Faro. “We've waited long enough.”

The blast seemed to shake the earth, and before the excited trio could reach the scene, there were three shots from a Winchester, downriver.

“There must be trouble at camp,” Josh said.

“I doubt it,” said Faro. “I think they're tellin' us we've been successful.”

When they reached the scene of the blast, the channel on which they had worked for so long was full of rushing water, and there was the sound of a waterfall as it poured into Devil's Canyon. Eagerly they ran to the riverbank, where the original bed now contained only puddles of water.

“Very little mud,” said Isaac. “It looks like solid rock.”

“God Almighty,” Josh said, “I hope it ain't like that all the way, with the gold underneath it.”

“So do I,” said Isaac. “We still have plenty of dynamite, but not
that
much.”

Triumphantly Faro, Isaac, and Josh rode back to camp. There, with the exception of Felix and Dallas, they found the rest of the outfit gathered along the riverbank. Felix and Dallas, armed with picks and shovels and using lariats, had lowered themselves down to the riverbed.

“All right,” Faro shouted, “what's the verdict?”

“It's not solid rock,” said Felix, “but we haven't found any gold yet.”

“Don't tell us that,” Isaac said, “after all this work. Why don't you go back to where we found the first ore?”

“We're just testin' the riverbed to see how solid it is,” said Felix. “I think we'll need to let it dry for a couple of days. By then, we should be able to bring the wagons down.”

“By then,” Faro said, “maybe we'll have found a place to get them down the bank.”

“We'll begin that project tomorrow,” said Isaac, “and I expect we'll have to level the bank with picks, shovels, and maybe dynamite.”

“Then let's celebrate with an early supper and a good night's rest,” Collins suggested.

Much of the snow had melted, and the cold wind that had plagued them daily since the storm had subsided. While Felix and Mamie prepared supper, the rest of the outfit filled feed bags for the horses and mules.

*   *   *

After breakfast the following morning, Collins, Faro, Isaac, and Josh rode downriver to the place Collins wished to investigate. Isaac and Josh had brought picks and shovels.

“The bank here is not more than half as deep as the bank upriver,” Collins said, “and we're only about two miles below the claim.”

“Let's find out just how solid that bank is,” said Isaac. “Come on, Josh.”

They dismounted, and with picks they attacked the riverbank. The picks went in deep, and withdrawing them, Isaac and Josh tested the ground in several other places, with the same result.

“Unless there's rock deeper down, we can level this bank in a day,” Isaac said.

“It sure looks better than what we've been blasting,” said Faro. “Eight of us with picks and shovels should make short work of it. Why don't we start today?”

“There's no reason why we can't,” Collins said, “but I'm a bit nervous when all of us are away from camp at the same time. Suppose four of us work half a day at a time, with the others watching over the horses, mules, and wagons?”

“That's likely a good idea,” said Faro. “Josh and
Isaac already have picks and shovels. You and me can ride back for ours, and tell the others what we have in mind.”

They rode back to camp and Collins told the rest of the outfit what he and Faro had decided.

“Dallas, you're in charge here,” Faro said. “If there's trouble of any kind, three quick shots will bring us on the run. When we ride in and the noon meal's done, then the rest of you can ride downriver and pick up where we leave off.”

Taking picks and shovels, Faro and Collins rode back to join Isaac and Josh, and found them using shovels instead of picks.

“Saves time,” said Isaac. “Unless we hit rock, we may not need the picks at all.”

“You've started back far enough for a decent slope,” Collins observed. “That should be sufficient.”

“One thing we must keep in mind, and what we must tell the others,” said Isaac, “is that none of the dirt from our digging is to be thrown into the riverbed. We don't yet know where we'll be mining for gold, and I can't see moving this dirt again.”

They spent two days leveling the riverbank to the extent that the wagons could safely be taken down to the now dry riverbed.

“It should be packed hard,” Faro said, “and the mules can take care of that.”

All the mules were brought downriver on lead ropes and were led repeatedly up and down the newly dug slope until the surface was packed hard.

“Now,” said Faro, “we're ready to move the wagons
down here, into the riverbed, and back upstream near the claim.”

“I don't want to get in the way of progress,” Collins said, “but shouldn't we first be sure the riverbed's solid all the way, and that there's no pockets of deep mud?”

“That might not be a bad idea,” said Faro. “Let's you and me find out. We'll ride up there as far as we aim to take the wagons.”

They did so, and while there was some remaining mud, the riverbed beneath it seemed solid enough. Collins was satisfied, and within an hour the five wagons were making their way along the former bed of the river, toward the gold claim. Faro positioned his wagon well under the protective overhang and the rest of the wagons were drawn up in similar fashion.

“All we'll need is a rope from bank to bank,” Dallas observed, “and we'll have a corral for the horses and mules, and when there's snow, there's plenty of overhang where they can take shelter.”

“I suppose it's time to drop all those logs over the edge,” said Collins. “Then we can take turns working the claim and chopping wood.”

“Yeah,” Dallas said. “Them that's takin' a rest from working the claim can chop wood while they're resting.”

“Just a damn minute,” said Tarno. “If you're the
segundo
, I quit.”

Faro laughed. “I think we'll all work the claim for a few days. It's time we had a taste of the reward that brought us here in the first place.”

“I'm in favor of that,” Felix said.

The rest of them quickly shouted their agreement.

“I see I'm outvoted,” said Collins in a jovial manner. “Tomorrow we'll begin working the claim.”

*   *   *

After breakfast, eagerly seizing picks and shovels, they followed Collins to the place from which the original ore samples had been taken.

“Because of the river's water, we only had a small area in which we were able to dig,” Collins said. “Now we have the entire riverbank. Felix, why don't you do the honors?”

Felix Blackburn swung his pick, and driving it deep into the riverbank, brought forth a small landslide of earth and rock. The rock came loose in flat chunks and the surface of it was honeycombed with thin threads of gold.

“My God,” said Dallas Weaver, “I've had a little mining experience, but I've never seen anything the equal of this. That'll assay at ten thousand dollars a ton.”

“Let's see if it continues,” Felix said, swinging the pick at a different portion of the riverbank.

There was more of the brittle rock, with threads of gold becoming visibly wider.

“Maybe we can find it somewhere else,” said Dallas, seizing a pick.

A dozen feet beyond where Felix had begun digging, Dallas drove the pick deep into the riverbank. There was more of the strange rock, crisscrossed with threads of gold. Aflame with excitement, the others began driving picks into the riverbank, with the same astounding results. So frantic were their efforts, they
were soon exhausted, and when they sat down to rest, they stared at their discovery with unbelieving eyes.

“I believe this may be one of the lost treasures I've read about in history books,” said Felix. “Some of them were supposed to be so rich, threads of gold could be broken loose from the ore by hand. There have been legends of strikes such as this, back in the days when Spain owned this territory.”

“I've never heard of such a strike in Utah,” Faro said. “What in tarnation possessed any of you to look for gold here?”

“Felix believed there was a rich strike here somewhere,” said Collins, “and he persisted in looking for it, long after the rest of us were convinced we were wasting our time.”

“It's a lot like salvation,” Felix said. “It never comes to you, unless you believe that it exists. Only then can a dream become reality.”

“I just wish you'd dreamed it was closer to Santa Fe,” said Josh.

“This would be worth the effort if it was a thousand miles from Santa Fe,” Isaac said.

“This claim should have been registered with the assayer's office in Santa Fe,” Faro said.

“We thought of that,” said Collins, “but we were fearful of starting a gold rush before we knew exactly where the gold was.”

“That,” Isaac said, “and the fact that we just didn't know if our claim would be legal, since it's in Utah Territory, and we would have had to register it in New Mexico.”

“Utah Territory is part of the United States,” said
Faro, “and someday Utah will be a state. Federal law should protect you here.”
^*

“I'm not too sure of that,” Dallas said. “Remember the renegades who ambushed us, and them eight varmints Durham put on our trail? They didn't care a damn for the law, and all that protected us was our loaded guns. I reckon the time's comin' when a man won't be allowed to protect himself, when the world becomes civilized and law-bound. Then the men we pay to protect us will nuzzle up to the politicians, and the lot of 'em will sell us out to the very varmints who want us dead. I hope I don't live so long that I can't load my gun and stomp my own snakes.”

“I reckon you're right,” said Faro, “but I still think this claim should be registered in Santa Fe.”

“We might as well register it when we return,” Felix said. “Once we roll into town with four wagon loads of the wealth we're lookin' at, there'll be no keeping this claim a secret. We'll have men following us day and night.”

“I don't doubt that,” said Faro, “but we'll defend what's ours as we have so far. With guns, if there's no other way.”

“We'll cross that bridge when we get to it,” Shanghai said. “Right now, I reckon we're lookin' at another problem. Loadin' this ore into the wagons will be something different. Barrels and crates, sides of bacon and the like is one thing, but wagon beds ain't deep enough for the ore we aim to haul. Pile it too high, and
we'll lose a lot of it along the way, and if we don't pile it high, it means we can't haul near as much.”

His companions looked at Shanghai and then at one another. Faro spoke.

“It's something we should have considered before leavin' Santa Fe, I reckon. There we could have bought lumber and built sideboards for the wagon bed.”

“But we had no idea the strike would be this rich, or that we'd be hauling so much ore,” said Dallas.

“Perhaps we'll just have to make the best of it, and haul what we can,” Collins said.

“Do we?” said Felix. “After all the challenges we've met, there has to be a way to add to the depth of those wagon beds, using materials that we have.”

“Maybe there is,” Faro said. “There's the wagon canvas.”

“The bows ain't strong enough,” said Tarno. “Throw the weight of that ore against 'em and they'll snap like matchsticks.”

“We won't be depending on the wagon bows,” Faro said. “We'll have to cut uprights maybe five feet long, using available timber, and spacing them three feet apart, anchor them to the wagon beds. The wagon canvas is less than six months old, and when it's taut against those uprights, it'll hold as much ore per wagon as the teams can pull.”

“That'll take some time,” said Josh Snyder. “It'll delay work on the claim.”

“No matter,” Levi Collins said. “Without the extra depth to the wagon beds, the time saved to work the claim won't mean anything. For that matter, with all the firewood we have, we can build enough fires to
work on both the wagons and the claim at night, if we have to.”

“Bueno,”
Faro said. “That's the kind of thinking that leads to success.”

“Then we'd better put our heads to it and figure some way to increase the depth of the wagon tailgates, and to build a barrier behind each wagon box,” said Dallas. “Them canvas puckers won't do a thing to keep the ore from slidin' over the tailgate at the back, or from comin' down on the wagon box like an avalanche, when we go down a slope.”

“I reckon we can solve that problem, too,” Faro said. “We have the canvas that served as shelter between the wagons durin' storms, and we can use as much of that as we need. We'll have to add some of those wooden uprights to the tailgates of the wagons and stretch canvas tight over them. A similar barrier will have to be built behind each wagon box, too. We still have plenty of those spikes, don't we, Dallas?”

“Yeah,” said Dallas. “They'll work, if we cut only three- or four-inch firs and flatten the ends where they're to be anchored to the wagon.”

“We know the ore's here,” Collins said, “and I believe we should devote our time to modifying the wagons. Now that we have shelter, they must be unloaded.”

“Yes,” said Faro. “We'll need several of them to haul in the timber for the uprights.”

So they set about unloading the supplies from the wagons, piling them up against the riverbank, under the protective overhang.

“It occurs to me,” Felix said, while they rested from
their efforts, “that we may have too much of this grub left, when it's time to return to Santa Fe.”