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Chapter XIX: The Camp in the Valley

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The dust settled and they were able to see Jeems in all his outlines. He seemed unhurt and in the possession of all his faculties, for he began to spout poetry to the boys after this wise:

"From morn till noon he fell, from noon
Till dewy eve then like a falling star
Dropt from the zenith."

"Hurrah for Lucifer!" cried Jo, who knew something about literature. Jeems bowed.

"What did you think you were, a flying squirrel?" inquired Tom.

"I didn't think, I just flew," said Jeems, which was true.

This incident likewise came near getting their enemy who was in hiding, for when he saw Jeems Howell perform his startling evolution in the air, he laughed so hard that he lost his balance and came crashing through the branches to the ground below and he lay there rolling over and over, not in the agony of a broken leg, but with uncontrollable laughter. As he told his pals later, "I never seen the likes of that performance. It was head and heels over any circus that 'Green Ike' ever saw back in ole Missoury. (Green Ike so-called, not on account of the color of his skin, but of his eyes.) That fellar must have struck a spring board the way he went through the air."

After the excitement had quieted down over Jeems Howell's flight through space, the boys took up the next order of the day, which was "forward march to their camping place for the night." It was now well along in the afternoon and the shadows were extending far down the slopes and across the valleys.

"We must get to a place where there is good water," said Juarez, as they started on their way.

"I wish we could find some grazing for the horses," mused Jim.

"It's a long pull into that valley down there," remarked Jo, "but I guess we can make it."

"I don't see why not," said Tom. "Our horses have had a long rest and ought to make fine time."

They did succeed in finding an excellent camping place after riding down the mountain slopes for about five miles. They came into quite a broad valley with a beautiful stream of clear tumbling water flowing through the midst of it, and green meadows on either side.

"I bet that's a fine trout stream," exclaimed Tom enthusiastically.

"This is one of the best places that we ever had to camp in," cried Jo. "The only place I can remember that beat it was in Mexico near the trembling mountain where we were all shut in."

"Here's the place for a camp," announced Jim. "This hill is away from the mountain slope far enough so that no enemy can crawl down under the protection of the trees. Then it can be defended, if necessary. For some reason, I would not like to camp out on that level meadow to-night."

"You don't expect trouble with Indians, do you?" inquired Tom anxiously.

"No," replied Jim, "but there are other bad men besides Indians."

"You are right, Skipper," said the shepherd, "we are liable to find the worst kind of cutthroats and ruffians in this part of the country."

"I guess we will be able to stand 'em off," said Jim, "without calling in the police."

Then James swung himself off his horse at the foot of the long hill; Tom and Jo rather stiffly, for they were not yet used to active mountaineering after so much sea travel, while Jeems Howell stepped off his little bay pony. Now ensued a scene of much activity making camp. Each one had his work to do and it was done promptly.

Juarez and Jim looked after the horses; rubbed them down, looked carefully after any strain or sore, and it was work that they loved to do. When the horses were sufficiently rested they were watered and fed, and from their splendid condition it was evident that they were well cared for. Caliente, Jim's charger, was in extra fine shape. His coat of mottled iron-gray fairly shone under Jim's brushing. When he had time he polished his hoofs. There was a real affection between the horse and his master. On more than one occasion his strength and fleetness had saved Jim's life. No one else was equal to controlling him.

Jeems' and Tom's work was to look after the mules, take off their packs and feed and water the animals. Jeems seemed to get along with the mules all right, much better than he did with the horses. Perhaps the mules were philosophers. At least they were very wise animals, canny and self-controlled. No mule you notice will overeat even when he has a chance, but with a horse it is different.

Jo's duties were very active ones. He had to move the goods, saddles, etc., into camp, and then get the wood for the fire. By this time one of the other boys would be free to help rig up the tent and another would fetch water. It was a lively, interesting scene and the boys enjoyed it thoroughly.

Within an hour the work was all done, and the horses were grazing, with evident enjoyment of the freedom of roaming around over the wide meadow with its growth of luxuriant grass, this after the hard day's pull. The boys had built a roaring fire of logs fed by long pine cones, for the nights were cold at that altitude.

"This would make a pretty fair sort of a fort," said Juarez, "if we had to defend it."

"Not as good as the one Jim and I had when the Apaches attacked us in New Mexico, when we were separated from Tom and the Captain," remarked Jo wisely.

"That was a natural fort," put in Jim, "but as Juarez says, we could stand off a crowd here, if we had a chance to fix it up a bit."

"It's lucky that it stands clear of the mountain on this side, so that an enemy could not attack us from shelter," remarked Juarez. "It must be nearly three-quarters of a mile to the foot of the mountain on this side of the valley; perhaps further."

"This hill must be all of one hundred and fifty feet high," said Tom. "I should like to see a crowd of Indians charge it."

"You wouldn't," put in Juarez. "They never do a trick like that, but would hang around until we were starved out."

"I tell you, lads, it won't be the Indians who will give us trouble," remarked Jeems Howell, "but a gang of renegade white men and half-breeds. That's the crowd that will be on our trail."

"I have a sort of feeling that there is a lion in our path," quoth James. "We will never get in the vicinity of the 'Lost Mine' without a fight. You mark my words. The sooner it comes the better."

"I guess we had better get the horses corraled, hadn't we, Skipper?" inquired Juarez. "It's beginning to get dark."

"Right you are," agreed Jim. "They have had a two-hour graze. We will take them down to water and then bring them into camp. Jo, you stay here and guard the goods."

"Aye, aye, sir," said Jo.

It was already growing dusk when the boys started across the level meadow to get the animals. They had no difficulty in picking up the trailing lariats. Only the mules acted rather queer. Their long ears were pitched forward and they were gazing fixedly in the direction of the mountain back of the camp. Then Missouri, the leader, a big buckskin with a brown stripe down his back, suddenly put his ears back and began to squeal loud and viciously.

"What's the matter with old Missouri?" inquired Jeems anxiously. "You don't suppose that the grass has given him a pain in his tummy?"

"No," said Jim, "the old chap scents trouble of some kind."

"Maybe it's a mountain lion," suggested Tom, "that would make him act up."

"Maybe," admitted Jim.

Now they had arrived at the stream that was roaring through the meadow. It was no brook either, but a brawling stream about forty feet in width, very clear and wonderfully cold, as it came from the snow-clad summits to the northwest. There were a good many large boulders that checked its course and made a roaring music in the quiet of the valley. It was a full half mile from the hill where the camp was.

"This would be a fine stream for trout," remarked Tom. "I wish we were going to stop in this valley long enough to give us a chance for some sport, but I suppose we will get up about four o'clock in the morning and chase over the mountains all day and then make a dry camp where our animals will be stampeded by the Indians."

"You certainly are a croaker, Tommy," laughed Jim heartily, for Tom's pessimistic prophecies never failed to amuse his big brother, "but cheer up, I have about decided to stop here in the valley for a day or two and give the children a good time."

"It won't be a bad idea, Skipper," remarked Juarez, "because it will give the horses a good rest and they have had a long, hard pull of it the past ten days, and will put them in good condition for the rest of the trip; perhaps, too, we can get a deer or two around here."

"There formerly was and ought now to be deer in this valley or near it," put in Jeems. "This is just the kind of place for them to come for grazing and pasture."

"It will help fill out our larder, too," said Tom.

"You mean our stomachs," said Jeems whimsically, after his fashion.

"I would like a mess of trout," remarked Tom. "I'm tired of salt horse."

"What's the matter with Missouri?" said Jeems, "he won't drink."

"You can't make him then," said Jim. "A mule is sure stubborn."

The rest of the animals appeared willing enough, but it took quite a while, as only one could come down to the stream at a time. The banks, though not high, were cut through the turf and there was only one spot where there was a broken place and a couple of stones where the horses and mules could step down to the stream.

"I guess Jo will begin to wonder what has become of us," said Jim, as the last horse drank his fill.

When they turned the animals' heads towards the camp it had grown dark, while the great valley was filled with the loneliness and the deep shadows of the night. There was nothing to break the stillness but the tune of the tumbling stream and the monotone of the pine-clad slopes rising blackly on either side of the valley. The light of the campfire upon the hill sent up its distant glow.

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The Frontier Boys in the Sierras; Or, The Lost MineChapter XIX: The Camp in the Valley

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