W. Crispin Sheppard

“ Everything put back on the packhorses, Bob? Good! My turn to lead one, and Dick the other, eh? Well, such is life in the wilds. Here, Whirly!"
He untethered the restive broncho, and coaxingly patted a brown-patched neck. Then, with a nimble spring, Dave was astride his back.
"The lake shore route," quoth Bob; "hill's too steep yet to climb."
The seven horsemen rode in single file, the steady hoof-beats alone breaking the soft murmuring roar of the wind in the forest. At every turn the scenery became more wild and impressive. Dense masses of vegetation defied them to attempt a passage. ”

“ Through the center trickled a tiny stream bordered with scrubby willows. The rough, scarred hills on either hand ended abruptly, and, beyond, a series of ridges, some thickly covered with pine, others of bald, reddish rock, rolled off in crests, rising higher and higher until they joined the stupendous mass of Mount Wanatoma.
The vastness of nature impressed the boys strangely.
"Honest, it makes me feel like a little crawling ant," remarked Tim, with a deep breath.
"An' you look the part, all right, Timmy-Tim," grinned Jack. "An' Tommy! Why, he's 'most disappeared." ”

“ Bob Somers and Sam Randall, clutching burning brands, crept cautiously beyond the circle of light, the others following close at their heels.
"Watch yourself, Dick!"
Bob Somers' voice vibrated over the air in a thrilling undertone.
"Maybe it's a panther," cried Jack, apprehensively.
"Or—or—a man," murmured Tim.
The bronchos suddenly began snorting and neighing again; their sharp heels, as they pranced about, struck the turf with dull, heavy thuds. Then came silence—a tense silence, which sent creepy feelings coursing down their spines. ”

“ But Wanatoma, with upraised hand, sprang forward. A few sharp commands, and the Dane backed slowly away, uttering another thrilling bay.
"He who has no respect for Indian's white hair must suffer," said Wanatoma, in a voice that trembled. "I want peace; but, listen, Big Jim, always is the Indian ready for battle, and has no fear."
He stood erect, facing the silent men, defiance in every line of his bronzed, aged face.
Still shaking with terror, Alf Griffin struggled to his feet, and, with his eyes fixed on the Great Dane, slunk quickly behind his companions. ”

“ The cold, glittering sunlight was fast losing its strength; somber hues were stealing over fields of waving brown and yellow grasses, and, as shadows deepened and lengthened, the dampness and feeling of night crept into the air. A dense silence enveloped the vast expanse of wilderness; even the breeze which gently touched their faces seemed to be dying away.
"If that bronc doesn't turn up mighty soon we'll have to hike back without him," growled Dick, glancing at the sky.
"Oh, ginger! That's only too true," sighed Tim. "Before the moon comes up it'll be black as pitch." ”

“ Jack Conroy began to have uncomfortable thoughts of moonless nights in the mountain wilderness, with, perhaps, wild animals prowling about, or high precipices, unseen in the blackness, close to their camp.
"If finding that Jabberwock is as hard as finding supper in Wild Oak, we're going to have a tough time," grumbled Dick, softly. "Don't people have to eat out here, I wonder?"
"An' some o' these natives may hear a few wild croaks if we don't get it mighty soon," laughed Tim. "Hadn't we better yell for help?" ”

“ Leaning almost upon the broncho's neck, he urged him forward with quirt and voice until the animal was galloping at a nerve-racking pace. Trees, bushes and rocks seemed to be falling together, and whirled by in the wildest confusion.
A single misstep, and the rider might be hurled with crushing force to the ground.
But Bob Somers gave little thought to this. He saw Jack Conroy just ahead, fighting desperately to swerve the broncho from his headlong course; and every instant the sorrel was carrying his rider nearer to the brink of the cliff. ”

“ The faintest sigh of satisfaction passed his lips. A picturesque sight was before him. Lolling about beside a big fire were a number of men, their faces weirdly illuminated by the flames. Pete and Jimmy sat on a log, the former still talking loudly. Behind them, a number of bronchos were tethered, some scarcely seen amid the trees.
Eager and excited, Dick Travers was in the act of counting the men, when, to his horror, a loud crack suddenly reverberated. ”

“ Jack had ridden up close to the Indian, and was energetically shaking hands.
"Quick, Uncle Stanley, do tell us something," pleaded Tim. "Have you seen those lumberjacks? Do you know what Bob Somers thinks?"
"Boys, boys, give me a chance," laughed Mr. Lovell. "Order, order! Now, Bob, what is your idea?"
"That the men have staked out the wrong place."
Wanatoma, with an approving glance, nodded.
"The white boy is keen, like Indian brave," he said, slowly.
"Then—then do you really mean to say Bob is right?" stammered Tim, with a great flash of hope. "Quick, Uncle Stanley, tell us." ”

“ Riderless horses were swinging wildly over the uneven ground, while the indignant boys rushed up from different points to give aid to Bob and Jack.
A fierce battle was about to be waged, when a clatter of hoofs, together with a loud yell, caused all eyes to be suddenly turned toward the mountain slope.
"Hey! Leave them fellers alone, or every hair on yer heads'll git blowed off!"
Men and boys recognized that gruff voice and the thick-set figure which sat astride a weary-looking mustang.
"By all that's wonderful; it's old Cap Slater!" yelled Tim Lovell. ”

“ As it is, there's a lot of hard work before us in catching up with our studies."
"It won't be difficult, with nearly the whole term before us," said Dick, in positive tones.
"Education is the lever which uplifts the world," sighed Dave. "Now—"
"Switch off!" cried Jack.
"Such gems of thought are lost upon him," laughed Sam.
"Let's get back to business," said Bob. "We needn't expect to have any picnic on this trip." He glanced toward Conroy, whose face failed to indicate the slightest enthusiasm. "If you want to back out, Jack, now's the time." ”

“ CHAPTER VII THE INDIAN
Wanatoma, aged warrior and friend of the boys, sat before his log cabin in the midst of the forest wilderness. He had retreated to this lonely spot when increasing years robbed him of his power as chieftain. Wanatoma could not bear to see himself supplanted by a younger man. The braves no longer circled before him in wild, fantastic dances; his voice in the council of the tribe carried with it but little weight; so, proudly, he had withdrawn to the solitude, where nature, kinder than man, makes no distinction between youth and age. ”

“ During a forest fire the boys have saved the life of Wanatoma, an aged Indian warrior, and he, out of gratitude, has imparted to them a secret long guarded—the location of a rich deposit of gold in the far-off mountains.
The boys determine to set out in search of "The Rambler Club's Gold Mine," as they call it, undaunted by the thought of possible dangers which the wilderness may have in store for them. Life amid the solitudes of nature, with only the sky as a canopy, has taught them the lesson that hardships and discomforts are sure to come, and must be met with a cheerful spirit. ”

“ Say, Bob, did you see Pete Colliver talking to Cap'n Slater?"
"Didn't notice 'em, Sam."
"Well, I did—happened to turn quickly. Jiminy! Cap had about the queerest expression on his face I ever saw; honest, if Pete wasn't telling him something I'm much mistaken."
"Thunder—avast there! No more o' that, my hearty!" growled Jack. "How do you do, Cap'n!"
A well-built young man approached. There wasn't very much of the typical sailor about Captain Don Mason. He had dark hair, a close-cropped mustache and deep brown eyes. ”

“ Chilly gusts of wind made the flames crackle and roar, while showers of embers carried off on the breeze danced briskly along over the rocky surface which extended before them. A gray canopy of cloud stretched overhead.
The wind, increasing in force, whistled around the corners of the cabin, its mournful cadence rising high above the sighing of the pines.
"And just to think," remarked Dave, softly, "how soon the scene must change—I mean our scene. Instead of the wilderness and life in the open, it will be the Kingswood High School and hard study." ”

“ Boys and men, too occupied to have eyes for anything beyond their immediate surroundings, failed to observe a horseman emerge from the timber above and stare earnestly toward them.
As Jack Conroy, fuming with anger, at last managed to drop from the saddle and rushed toward Pete, Bob Somers whirled his broncho around and rode between them.
"Hold on, Jack," he pleaded, earnestly. "Stop! Grab him, Dave!"
A hand reached up and gripped his arm. Bob turned quickly, to get a nearer view than he liked of Tom Smull's features. ”

“ Pete Colliver, with disheveled hair wildly tossing in the breeze, paused, puffing heavily. A curious, dumfounded look, which all the rough shouts of encouragement flung toward him failed to remove, had settled over his brick-red face.
"Pete's lost his nerve," cried Jack.
"He couldn't throw you in a hundred years," shouted Tim, gleefully.
Dave unexpectedly fell flat on his face, his surprised opponent sprawling across his prostrate form. Then, with a swift movement of tremendous power, Dave began turning over, and a roar came from the boys when they saw Pete's shoulder rising high in the air. ”

“ Beyond the mills, and close in shore, a lumber schooner, piled high above the gunwales with short planks, lay at anchor, ready for her long trip down the river.
"Feast your eyes on the 'Osprey,' fellows," remarked Bob Somers; "Don Mason, Master."
"The staunch little craft which is to be entrusted with the precious cargo of Rambler boys," said Sam. "Say, it's pretty low in the water now; don't you think when Dave steps aboard it may be in danger of foundering?"
"Most likely there'll be nothing but groaning till she gets used to the additional strain," grinned Dave. ”

“ Breakfast dishes, unwashed, were piled into a bag and thrown on the back of a packhorse, and a few moments later, with Sam leading Dick Travers' mount, the bronchos were spread out over the level surface, pounding along at a fast gallop.
The sting of the cold air rushing by seemed to bring out every spark of life in the fiery little animals; they fairly flew, and their riders made no attempt to check the headlong flight until a line of vegetation looming distinctly into view warned them that the edge of the cliff was near. ”

“ Pretty near as bad as that bridge at Wild Oak."
"A heap worse, Tom," grinned Dick. "Inside spookiness beats outside ghostliness every time. But it won't bother me a little bit."
Their voices and footsteps echoed with a strange, hollow sound as they walked over the creaking boards.
"An' talkin' 'bout broncho bustin'," began Jack, suddenly, "why—"
"Who's talking about it?" chirped Tom, rudely. "Forget it, and let's turn in."
It wasn't very long before this advice was followed. They rolled themselves in blankets and selected the most comfortable places they could find. ”

“ A cavalcade of horsemen was rapidly approaching the edge of the timber in which the lumbermen's camp was situated, the thud of hoof-beats alone breaking the silence of early morning.
With faces grim and determined, the six, at a word from Bob Somers, reined up.
"Remember, fellows, we don't want to have any scrap with Pete," he said, casting a significant look toward Jack Conroy. "Now that we know he's trailing us, it ought to be easy to throw him off the track."
"Pete's camp must be close here," added Sam. "Gracious, but don't I hope Dick is with him! Ready?" ”

“ There was an instant of silence. The lumbermen crowded eagerly around the aged warrior, whose stolid face, turned full toward them, shone brightly in the firelight. From the mysterious, somber depths of the forest came a low, mournful roar, as the ever-increasing breeze swayed the tree tops.
"Indian has spoken," said Wanatoma, slowly. "He is a friend of the white man. But boys save Indian's life, and Wanatoma can no forget. I give promise, and always does the Indian keep his promise. Is the white man like that, or does he change as the wind?" ”

“ I don't think we ought to stand for this!" cried Jack Conroy, hotly, shaking his fist in the air. "Haven't we enough spunk to—"
"The odds are against us, Jack," put in Bob, quietly.
"Nothin' doin'," said Tim.
"I don't know about that!" fumed Dick. His voice trembled with indignation. "It makes me so wild I can't even think straight. Come on, fellows!"
A long, undulating slope of treacherous soil stretched downward. The bronchos slipped and slid along it, and, occasionally, the boys had to dismount and lead the way on foot, or prospect around to find some reasonably safe route. ”

“ A blazing pine-knot which drowned the pale green rays of the moon illuminated his irregular features with striking effect. Pete's little eyes were roving eagerly over every low-hanging branch, and a grunt of disappointment fell from his lips—the search had revealed nothing.
"Bust it! Whar has the warmint went, I'd like to know?" he growled.
Pete came to a halt within a few feet of the prostrate form, waving the torch vigorously above his head. Dick felt a cold perspiration standing out upon his face again; another move of the young lumberjack might bring his heavy boot down upon him. ”

“ We haven't even seen a glimpse o' that mountain where Wanna's gold mine—"
"Hey, cut it out, Jacky," interposed Dick. "You're breaking rule number one again—that makes the seventy-eighth time."
"Suppose you think some bear, or little birdlet, or panther is listening!" jeered Jack. "Hang it! Bet nobody else would be silly enough to fight his way through walls o' bushes an' wade wet creeks like we have. How do you know we're goin' in the right direction, eh?"
"Compass tells us that, Jack," laughed Bob. "Don't worry yourself. By to-morrow we may sight it. Time's up, fellows!" ”