The fire dwindled5, for there was little to burn save the dried twigs6 from the bushes that lined the stream, nor did Felix dare to leave the horse long enough to gather a fresh supply. More gray figures came through the dark to gather in a wide, waiting circle all about the fire. Within the limits of their brutish minds lay the knowledge that fires would die down, that strength of man and beast would fail, and that, once a straggler could not go on, patient waiting always made him their prey8 at last. Felix cocked his gun, took long aim at a pair of green eyes glittering in the dark, but in the end lowered the muzzle9 without firing. The flash of a rifle and its report carried far over the level prairie, and there were other eyes that might be watching for human stragglers, fiercer and hungrier eyes even than were the wolves'. As the foremost animal drew a little closer, he took up his violin and began to play.
He had a strange audience, the greedy white-fanged beasts that slunk away at the first strains of the unwonted sound, stole back, yet moved uneasily away again, the little fat, inquisitive10 prairie dogs that popped out of their burrows11 and sat up to listen, the circling nighthawks that wheeled and called overhead. Hour after hour he played, but whenever he paused the hungry circle drew in about him and he was forced to raise his aching arm and ply7 his bow again. The first hint of dawn was brightening the sky when the creatures of the night began to slip away, and Felix, laying down his violin, suddenly laughed aloud.
"I wish that Granny Fullerton, who thought that it wasn't quite safe for us to live on the Windy Hill," he said, "I wish that she could see me now!"
Then he lay down, pillowed his head upon his arm, and fell so fast asleep that, as he said afterward12, "a whole tribe of Indians could have ridden over him and he would never have moved."
It was, indeed, horse's feet that aroused him, but not, by good fortune, the unshod hoofs13 of Indian ponies14. A band of men was riding toward him from the westward15, hard, grizzled men, weather-beaten and toil16-worn beyond anything Felix had ever seen.
"We met your party back yonder," said their leader. "They asked us to look out for you as we went by. Glad to see the Indians haven't got you yet."
"Oh!" exclaimed Felix, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, "Have you—have you been in California?"
The man nodded. He drew out of his pocket a greasy17 little buckskin bag, opened the strings18, and poured a stream of something yellow into the boy's hand.
"Ever see gold dust before?" he asked.
It was Felix's first sight of the odd, flattened19 flakes20 of metal that shine dully in your hand, that are no two alike, so that you can turn them over and over, always seeing different shapes and sizes, different gleams and lights upon their changing surfaces.
"There's a lot of it back there where we've been," the man said, grinning slowly as he saw Felix's excited face. "We left it there for you and those like you."
"And did you find all you wanted? Are you going home now to be rich and comfortable all your days?" the boy inquired.
The man's grin grew broader still.
"You don't know gold miners, sonny," he said. "We've been at work on the American River diggings, where your folks ahead there are going, and we found it good enough, but we've heard of something better. Over to the southward of that valley there's another one deeper, wilder, hard to get into but with the richest pay dirt you ever dreamed of. We staked out our claims and left one man to hold it, while we go back to the States for supplies and better equipment. The gold's harder to get out, but it's there all right. It makes American River look like nothing at all."
He turned in the saddle and looked up the little stream bed where the water lay in shallow pools below the overhanging bushes. The black mare21 had at last struggled to her feet and was now grazing on the sparse22 grass that bordered the river.
"It is none too safe for you to be here alone, young fellow," the man observed. "There's a band of Indians have been doing considerable mischief23 around this neighborhood just lately. We've been hearing of them from every party as we came along."
"I'm not afraid," returned Felix stoutly24. "One boy and one horse would be hard to find in this great wide prairie. Aren't you afraid you will meet the Indians yourselves?"
"Afraid!" The other laughed aloud. "Why, we're looking for them and it will be a sorry day for them when we find them." He sobered and went on earnestly: "The woman in that party you left called out a message for you as we came by. 'Tell him,' she said to us, 'that the horse is his and that he is to go back with you to the States. Tell him, God bless him,' she said. We'll be glad enough to have you if you care to come with us," he concluded.
Felix looked at the long, empty trail before him; he looked up at the prospector25's hard brown face, and then at the little heap of gold dust in his hand.
"I'll not go back—just yet," he said. "There are things I must see first."
They rode jingling26 away, the sun glinting on their gun barrels and pistol butts27 until they disappeared in the shimmering28 hot distance of the dusty trail. Felix, as the heat of the day increased, led the mare up the watercourse to where the bushes were tall enough to afford a little shade. He, himself, crawled under a rock beside one of the pools and lay there very quietly, waiting for the long, sleepy day to pass. It was noontime, with the world so still that he could actually hear the water of the stream filtering through the sand as it ran sluggishly29 from pool to pool, when a new sound caught his attention. There was a shuffling30 of muffled31 feet, a stone dislodged from the bank above, the click of metal against metal, but every noise so stealthy and quiet that he could hardly believe he heard.
He did not dare to move, but peered through the branches of the bush beside him and saw a strange cavalcade32 passing on the high bank above, little brown and buckskin and piebald Indian ponies, their unshod hoofs stepping lightly and quietly over the dry grass, each with a painted, red-skinned rider, armed and decorated with all of an Indian's trappings of war. The feathered war bonnets33 that crowned their heads and reached to their heels were of every gay color, their fierce faces were daubed with red and ocher, they carried, some of them, guns, more of them rude lances and bows and arrows. Felix was so near that he could make out the strings of beads34 and claws of wild animals about their necks, could see their red skins glisten35, and could watch the muscles of their slim thighs36 move and ripple37 as they guided their wise little horses more by pressure of the knee than by use of the rude Indian bridles38. Not one of them spoke39, once a pony40 snorted in the dust, but that was the only sound as they moved past him and turned into the trail with their faces eastward41. The whole procession might have been a vision—a mirage42 of the high, hot noontide and of the boy's tired brain. But after the men were gone and he had crawled out from his hiding place he could see the horses' footprints in the dust and could assure himself that they were real.
After a long time he heard shots, very faint and far away, lasting43 for an hour or more before the hush44 of the prairie fell again. The cool night came at last, and the little mare, visibly strengthened by the rest and grazing, came trotting45 to him, splashing happily through the water of the pool. Those gray enemies of the night before did not come near, nor, though he waited two days, watchful46 and alert, did any of the Indians return. He thought of that band of men he had talked with, hard, seasoned, and well armed for the struggle. From the very first he had felt little doubt as to what the issue of such a battle would be.
It seems too long to tell of how Felix mounted the mare at last and cantered away along the trail, rejoicing in swift motion again after the long wait and the crawling pace of the ox team. Nor can it be fully1 told how he and his friends toiled47 forward across the plain, over that dreaded48 stretch of desert that came at the far edge of it, up the tempest-swept, snow-covered mountains, until that wondrous49 minute when the endless bleak50 slopes suddenly fell away before them and they looked down into the wide green wonder of a new land. In less than a week from that day, Felix's long dream had come true; he was standing51 knee-deep in a rushing stream with a miner's pan in his excited hands, he saw the gravel52 wash away, the muddy earth dissolve, the black sand settle to the bottom to be dried and blown away, leaving—it did not even then seem believable—the sparkling grains of yellow gold.
They did well, he and Abner Blythe. Though their backs ached at the end of the day and they came home to sleep, worn out, wet, and dirty, their buckskin bags filled slowly with gold dust as the autumn passed. Yet Felix could not put from his mind the talk of the man he had met on the prairie, the tale of higher mountains, deeper valleys, and richer diggings over to the southward. When the rains came and there was little work to do, he thought of those words more and more, and when the open weather came once more he gathered supplies, said good-by one day to Abner and Anna, and set forth53 to seek a further, greater fortune for them all.
It was a toilsome journey over the mountains, for very few had as yet passed that way. The deep, shadowy cañons, the rushing streams, the smooth faces of granite54 walls seemed impassable barriers, but Felix at last passed them all and came into the wild, rugged55 valley of Bear Creek56. He staked his claim, put up his little tent, and went down to the river to wash his first pan of gold. Yes, the prospector had been right; here in this bleak, far region the toil was much heavier, but the reward was unbelievably great.
There were not yet many miners who had come so far, but the one whose claim was next to Felix's and whose rough shanty57 stood almost side by side with his tent had been there among the first. He was a friend of those men from whom the boy had first heard of the place, and he willingly showed the newcomer the best slope for his claim and the easiest way to wash the gold.
"There's room for all, so far," he said. "The others below there on American River haven't had time to get discontented yet, but there will be a rush up here soon. When the place begins to be crowded there will be jumping of claims, and robbery and fights, with knives out and blood shed, just as you have seen it down there. But we will be peaceable and friendly here as long as we can."
The old miner seemed to take a great fancy to Felix and helped him with advice and kindness in unnumbered ways. He had built himself a little hut of pine logs roofed with bark as a better protection than a tent against the mountain storms. Felix sat there with him one night before the rude stone hearth58, while the rain fell in deluges59 outside and the wind went calling and blustering60 down the valley. The miner piled the fuel high upon the fire and, as the hours passed, told story after story of wild adventure, of desperate escape, of bold crime, and of the quick, merciless justice of the frontier. At last his fund of narrative61 seemed to come to an end and he was silent for a little.
"Yes, these are rich diggings," he said finally, going back to the subject of which they had first been talking, "but—there is more gold even than this somewhere beyond. A man I knew once, a prospector, told me a strange story. He was captured by the Indians and carried off to the south, over beyond the mountains to the edge of the desert. He escaped from them, but he got lost, trying to go back, and wandered for days, nearly dying with thirst, torn and cut by the cactus62 thorns, blind and nearly crazed by the terrible heat. He came to the foot of a hill that he was too weak to climb and he lay down there to die. But a rain fell and he lay soaking in it all night, drinking what gathered in a rock pool beside him, with rattlesnakes and lizards63, he said, crawling up to drink with him and he never cared. In the morning his head was clear and he looked up the hill to see the outcropping of such a gold mine as you never dreamed of. Lying there on the open slope was the gold-bearing quartz64 in plain sight, to be picked up with your bare hands. He took some with him, but not much, for gold is heavy when you are staggering weak, and he went on and on, lost again and nearly dead, but at last he came to a settlement. He lay in a Mexican's house, raving65 with fever for weeks, but in the end he got well. But when he tried to go back to his mine he could never find the way."
Felix was listening eagerly, but he did not interrupt or even ask a question when the man paused. The deep voice rasped huskily, for evidently the miner was telling his tale with an intent purpose.
"I have always meant, some day, to go and look for that mine myself, when I found a comrade I could trust, one who would not be afraid of the hardship and the danger. The way there is a terrible journey, but I believe I know almost to a certainty where the place must be. Will you come, boy—will you come?"
Felix got up and went to the tiny square window to look out. His voice was thick with excitement, but he did not answer directly.
"The storm has passed," he said, "and I must go back to my tent. I—I will think about what you say and tell you in the morning."
He went out into the dark, wet night, closing the door with a hand that shook and fumbled66 against the wooden latch67.
The old miner must have slept little, for it was scarcely dawn before he had crossed the muddy slope to Felix's tent. Early as he was, the boy was before him, gathering68 up his possessions and thrusting them into his pack.
"I'm going back," he said and beyond that he would tell him nothing.
He could not explain how, in the watches of the night, there had come to him the realization70 that the fever for finding gold is more consuming than the fever for getting it, that there is always the thirst to go on, to leave what one has and seek some new, dazzling discovery that seems just out of reach. To follow adventure is one thing; but, as the years pass, to surrender a whole life to a single and selfish desire is quite another. Some indwelling wisdom had told Felix that it was time to turn back, but he had no words by which to make the other understand. The old miner had given up to the dream long ago; he would always be seeking something richer and better, always leaving it for some golden vision that would lure71 him forward until at last he would disappear in the mountains or the desert and never return.
"I am going to turn over my claim here to Abner Blythe," declared Felix. "It will make him rich and his wife happy, and you had better stay to work it with him, for I am going home."
"I can't stay." The miner seemed to understand also, but he was as brief and inarticulate as was the boy. "I'm one of those that has to go on—and on."
He turned away and walked back to his cabin through the rain-drenched flowers and the dripping green bushes. Who may know what pictures either of dark regret or of golden hope were passing before his eyes as vividly72 as were Felix's memories of the low cottage on the hill, of the apple trees that would be in bloom now all up and down Medford Valley, of the wind talking in the oak tree outside his window. A quarrel with one's only brother looks suddenly very small when so many thousand miles are stretched out between.
Ralph had often said that the hollyhocks were growing too many and should be uprooted73, but Barbara's begging for their lives somehow always saved them in the end. They had spread out from the door and advanced down the hill in marching regiments74, a glowing mass of color. The singing, yellow-banded bees were busy all day in the cups of scarlet75 fading to pink and white, and white shading into yellow. The afternoon sun was behind them, lighting76 them to unwonted glory, when Felix came plodding77 along the lane on each side of which the apple trees were beginning to grow tall. Barbara was in the garden cutting sweet peas into her apron78 and Ralph, beside her, was standing in silence, watching the bees. A dozen times the girl had read that same thought in his mind, that he would give ten years of life to unsay the words that had driven his brother away and that had taught himself such a bitter lesson. Then suddenly Barbara uttered such a cry of joy that even the bees hummed and hovered79 lower, and slow old Chloe came hurrying to the door. The old woman smiled, with tears running down her wrinkled face, as she saw who it was that came trudging80 up the hill.
"There's good luck come back to this house at last," she said aloud an hour later when Felix, as the twilight81 was falling, sat down upon the doorstep and began to play his violin.
He never grew tired of telling the tale of his adventurous82 journey, nor did his sister and brother ever grow tired of listening. Ralph Brighton had lost, in that one dreadful hour, his love for dollar signs, and he nodded in wise agreement over Felix's decision to give up the quest for gold. Barbara would hearken in awed83 fascination84 to that story of the man lost in the desert, whose eyes looked once upon fabulous85 wealth but who could never find it again.
Wherever gold mines are, there is to be found such a legend, a tale of greater riches just beyond men's knowledge. No matter how dazzling is the wealth at hand there is always that tantalizing86 story of the lost mine, sometimes reputed to be far and inaccessible87, sometimes only just over the next hill, yet always as difficult to discover as the end of the rainbow. But, as Abner Blythe said, it is so a country grows, and when men cease from following rainbows, then will the world stand still.
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1
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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crunch
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| n.关键时刻；艰难局面；v.发出碎裂声 | |
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pebble
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| n.卵石，小圆石 | |
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emigrant
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| adj.移居的，移民的；n.移居外国的人，移民 | |
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dwindled
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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twigs
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| 细枝，嫩枝( twig的名词复数 ) | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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burrows
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| n.地洞( burrow的名词复数 )v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的第三人称单数 )；翻寻 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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ponies
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| 矮种马，小型马( pony的名词复数 )； ￡25 25 英镑 | |
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westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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flattened
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| [医]（水）平扁的，弄平的 | |
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flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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sparse
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| adj.稀疏的，稀稀落落的，薄的 | |
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mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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prospector
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| n.探矿者 | |
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jingling
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| 叮当声 | |
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butts
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| 笑柄( butt的名词复数 )； （武器或工具的）粗大的一端； 屁股； 烟蒂 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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sluggishly
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| adv.懒惰地；缓慢地 | |
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shuffling
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| adj. 慢慢移动的, 滑移的 动词shuffle的现在分词形式 | |
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muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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cavalcade
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| n.车队等的行列 | |
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bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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beads
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| n.（空心）小珠子( bead的名词复数 )；水珠；珠子项链 | |
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glisten
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| vi.（光洁或湿润表面等）闪闪发光，闪闪发亮 | |
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thighs
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| n.股，大腿( thigh的名词复数 )；食用的鸡（等的）腿 | |
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ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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bridles
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| 约束( bridle的名词复数 )； 限动器； 马笼头； 系带 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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41
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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42
mirage
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| n.海市蜃楼，幻景 | |
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43
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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44
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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45
trotting
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| 小跑，急走( trot的现在分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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dreaded
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| adj.令人畏惧的；害怕的v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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49
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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50
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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51
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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52
gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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53
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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54
granite
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| adj.花岗岩，花岗石 | |
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rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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56
creek
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| n.小溪，小河，小湾 | |
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shanty
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| n.小屋，棚屋；船工号子 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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deluges
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| v.使淹没( deluge的第三人称单数 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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blustering
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| adj.狂风大作的，狂暴的v.外强中干的威吓( bluster的现在分词 )；咆哮；（风）呼啸；狂吹 | |
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narrative
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| n.叙述，故事；adj.叙事的，故事体的 | |
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cactus
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| n.仙人掌 | |
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lizards
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| n.蜥蜴( lizard的名词复数 ) | |
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quartz
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| n.石英 | |
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raving
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| adj.说胡话的；疯狂的，怒吼的；非常漂亮的；令人醉心[痴心]的v.胡言乱语(rave的现在分词)n.胡话；疯话adv.胡言乱语地；疯狂地 | |
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fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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latch
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| n.门闩，窗闩；弹簧锁 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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lure
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| n.吸引人的东西，诱惑物；vt.引诱，吸引 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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uprooted
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| v.把（某物）连根拔起( uproot的过去式和过去分词 )；根除；赶走；把…赶出家园 | |
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regiments
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| （军队的）团( regiment的名词复数 )； 大量的人或物 | |
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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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hovered
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| 鸟( hover的过去式和过去分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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trudging
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的现在分词形式） | |
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twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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adventurous
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| adj.爱冒险的；惊心动魄的，惊险的，刺激的 | |
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awed
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| adj.充满敬畏的，表示敬畏的v.使敬畏，使惊惧( awe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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tantalizing
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| adj.逗人的；惹弄人的；撩人的；煽情的v.逗弄，引诱，折磨( tantalize的现在分词 ) | |
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inaccessible
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| adj.达不到的，难接近的 | |
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