CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

ONE GETS HIS DESERTS.

The little party paused and glanced excitedly round, their weapons ready to fire at the companions whom the man was addressing.

"Keep him off, mate—drag him back, Beardy! Can't you see he's tearing me to bits! Shoot! shoot! why don't you shoot? Never mind hitting me. Shoot!—can't you see the dog's mad?"

There was a moment or two's pause, during which the man was silent, panting and foaming at the mouth, as he glared wildly towards the door. Then he began again.

"There, there—you've missed him!" he shrieked. "He's at me again. He's mad—mad, I tell you! Shoot—shoot!—ah!"

The poor wretch darted out one hand, caught up something from between the bed and the wall, and the firelight glistened upon the side of a bottle, which he raised so violently to his lips that the neck rattled against his teeth; and the lookers-on heard the deep glug—glug—glug of the liquid within, as the man drank with avidity.

"Ah!" he yelled again, and, raising himself up, he threw the bottle with all his might across the hut, so that it struck the wooden wall heavily, and fell to the floor unbroken.

"Missed—missed!" shrieked the man; "and he's springing at me again! Keep him back—keep him back! Ah!"

The shriek he uttered was horrible, as he went through all the movements of one struggling wildly against the attacks of a savage beast, and then suddenly dropped down cowering into the corner, panting loudly.

Meanwhile Tregelly had picked up the bottle and held it to his nostrils, before glancing at the side.

"That's mine," he growled. "They found that, then. I got it for spirits, case I was took ill in the night; but it was so bad I never used none, and put it on the corner of the shelf. It's poison, that's what it is; much like paraffin as can be. Nice stuff for a man like that!"

"The man's mad," said Dallas, with a shudder.

"Yes," whispered Abel; "don't you see, Dal? It's one of three who attacked us up in the pass."

"Yes; there's no doubt about that," said Dallas.

"He's the man who attacked me the other night. I'm sure as can be."

"Oh, that's him, is it?" said Tregelly with a deep, angry growl. "Well, it'll be a long time before he attacks you again, my son."

"Is it fever?" said Dallas.

"'M! no, my son; I've seen a man took like that before. I should say it's hydrophoby, from the bite of a dog; and he's been doctoring himself with that paraffin stuff till he's madder than ever."

The sight before them had so taken up their attention that for the moment Scruff's pursuit of the other two had been forgotten; but now it was brought vividly back to mind by a dull thump at the door, and the scratching of claws, and as the door yielded, the great dog forced its way in, with his red tongue lolling out, and panting loudly with his exertions.

The effect was magical. The man upon the couch could not have seen or heard the dog, but he seemed to divine the great animal's presence, and springing up again from where he cowered, he began to shriek again horribly.

"The dog—the dog!" he yelled—"tearing me to pieces! Mad—mad! Shoot—shoot, I say!"

But attention was taken from him to the action of the dog.

As soon as the ghastly, distorted face in the corner rose, and the shrieks began to fill the hut, the dog paused by the door, with the thick hair about his neck bristling up till the animal looked double his former size, and a low, muttering, thunderous growl came from his grinning jaws.

The next moment he would have sprung at the wretched man, but Dallas grasped the position and was too quick for him. In an instant he had sprung across the dog's back, nipped him between his knees, and buried his hands in the thick hair of his neck.

"Quick, Bel, or he will tear him to pieces!" cried Dallas. "The door— the door! Here, Bob, help; I can't hold him. Strong as a horse."

Abel flew to drag open the door, Tregelly seized the dog by his tail; there was a furious scratching and barking, a rush out, a swing round of two powerful arms, and the door was banged to again, and fastened; but only just in time, Scruff's head coming at it with a loud thud, and his claws rattling and scratching on the wood, as he barked and growled savagely.

"Lie down, sir!" roared Dallas. "How dare you! Lie down."

There was a loud barking at this, but there were sounds as if of protest mingled with it, and finally the dog subsided into a howl, and dropped down by the door to wait, a low, shuffling, panting sound coming through the crack at the bottom.

"He'd have killed him," said Dallas, panting with the exertion.

"Not a doubt about it, my son," replied Tregelly. "That's the chap, sure enough—him as half killed you, Mr Abel."

"Yes, I'm sure of it."

"Knew him again directly."

"Think so?" said Dallas.

"Sure of it, my son. Dog wouldn't have gone for a sick man in bed. Knew him directly, and went for him. Depend upon it, them two had a desprit fight that night when Scruff laid hold of him and made him drop the gold-bag."

"That's it, Bel," said Dallas. "No doubt Scruff bit him pretty well, and he has scared himself into the belief that the dog was mad."

"Yes, that and delirim trimins," said the big Cornishman, looking down at the horrible wreck before him, the face seeming more ghastly and grotesque from the dancing shadows. "The brute has drunk himself mad. He's a thief, and a murderer, or meant to be; and him and his gang have broke into my house. If the judge and his lot yonder could get at him they'd hang him to the first tree; he told us if we saw him and his lot we were to shoot at sight; and he's no good to himself or anybody else, and the world would be all the better without him; and—I say, don't you think we'd better let the dog come in and put him out of his misery?"

"No," said Dallas angrily; "neither do you."

"Well, put him outside in the snow. It's a merciful sort of death, and very purifying to such a chap as this. Soon freeze hard. He wouldn't come back to life like old Scruff. What do you say to that, Master Abel Wray?"

"Nothing," said Abel shortly, "because if I said Yes! you wouldn't do it."

Tregelly stood and shook with the ebullition of chuckles which came bubbling out.

"Oh, dear me," he said at last, as he wiped his eyes. "I can't help being such a fool. It's my nature to, my sons. No, I couldn't set the dog at the beast, and I couldn't put him out to freeze; but if it had come to a fight, and I'd been up, I could have shot him or knocked him on the head, and felt all the better for it."

"Yes, I know," said Dallas, who stood gazing down at the trembling wretch upon the couch.

"I s'pose I ought to be very glad him and his lot found my place empty; and I ought to sit down and nurse him and try to make him well again, and stop till his mates came and made an end of me—same as they've made an end of everything in the place. I say, just look here—quiet, Scruff, or I'll come and talk to you with one of my boots!—I'm blessed if they haven't finished up everything I left here—ham, bacon, meal, tea, sugar—every blessed thing," continued Tregelly, as he opened canister and tin, peered into the meal-tub, and finished by staring down at the miserable wretch on the bed, and thoughtfully scratching his head.

"It's horrible, Bob," said Dallas. "The brutes! But I don't know what we're to do."

Tregelly looked down again at the man, whose lips were moving fast; but his words were inaudible, save now and then, when he uttered a strange yelping cry, and they heard the word, "Dog!"

"Seems your turn now, Master Abel," said Tregelly. "You've got your knife into him most. But he's got his deserts."



CHAPTER THIRTY.

A STAGGERING BLOW.

"Is he dying?" said Abel, as he looked down with commiseration on the man who tried to take his life.

"As sure as the sun'll rise to-morrow morning somewhere if it don't here, my son. He's dying fast. Man can't live long going through what he's going through now. He's dying as horrible a death as a man can die. Hanging would be a blessing to it."

"Yes, he's weaker already," said Dallas, looking at the prostrate man.

"That's so, my son. I don't like his dying in my place; but we can't help it. Let's get together what we want to take, and go."

"But there is nothing to load the sledge with," said Dallas.

"There's a nice lot of cartridges—pistol and rifle—in a tin in yon corner. We'll take those and—Well, I'm blessed! They've got them, too!"

"How tiresome!"

"But they haven't got my gold; I'll warrant that."

"Where is it buried?" asked Abel.

"Buried?" replied Tregelly, with a laugh. "'Tain't buried at all. It's just outside the door there—one of those big blocks of ice; but we shall have to wipe it round with a pick-axe to make it a more decent size for the sledge."

"One of these blocks?"

"That's right, my son. If you make a hiding-place some one's sure to find it; but they'd never think of looking inside a block lying outside your door. You see, I picked a big hole in it, put in my stuff, then a big wedge of flannel, rammed some snow on the top, poured a drop of water over, and in half an hour it was a solid block."

"Well, let's get it and go, before those other scoundrels come back."

"You needn't fear them, my son. Scruff would let us know if they were near. I only wish they would come, so as we could have a fight. Taking my stores like that."

"But about this man?" said Abel.

"What about him, my son? We are doing all we can by letting him alone. I know enough of that sort of thing to be able to say that nothing can be done for him. No doctor could do him any good, if there was one to be had. Let's get the gold and go back. Perhaps his mates will come back to him when we're gone."

"And if they do, what then?" said Dallas sharply.

"You mean, shall I lay wait for them and trap them, my son. No; I can't do that now. Be best for them, though, to keep quite out o' my way. Now then, open the door just a little way, so that you can squeeze out and get hold of the dog, Mr Dallas. If he gets in we shall have a scene."

Dallas nodded, glanced at where the delirious man lay muttering to himself, and then slipped out, and was nearly thrown backward by the rush the dog made to get into the hut; but he held on to the animal's thick coat till his companions had had time to slip out and the door was closed, the dog growling his disappointment the while.

"Now," said Dallas merrily, "which is the block we ought to take?"

There was a heap of hardened snow on either side of the door—a heap composed of roughened blocks, and when the young men had declared their inability to say that one was more likely than another, Tregelly stooped down and rolled the very first one over and over.

"That's the one," he said; "but I may as well chip a hundredweight of ice off it. Wait while I get the pick from the side of the shaft, and you may as well keep a sharp look-out with cocked pieces. They might try to rush us."

Dallas and Abel took the hint, and did better; they sheltered themselves behind the wood heap, ready for any attack that might come; while the dog, now pacified, walked here and there, snuffing about as if scenting danger.

Tregelly was back directly, and by dexterous usage of the pick-axe he soon reduced the heavy block to a more portable size, after which it was secured upon the sledge, and the return journey commenced.

A good look-out was kept, every man walking with his piece ready cocked, for there were plenty of places to be passed where they might well expect to meet with an ambush; but all went well, the ice-block forming but a light load, as the snow was hard beneath their feet.

To make matters easier, Abel kept up well, declaring again and again that he was not tired.

"Don't overdo it," Dallas said. "Even with you on the sledge it would be a light load for us two to draw."

"You will not draw me, even if it would be," replied Abel. "I feel stronger and brighter now than when I came out. It shows what a little energy will do."

It was fairly light as they came within sight of the hut they had left that morning, and a faint curl of smoke rising from the roof showed that the fire was still alight; and all seemed to be perfectly right, till they were close up, when Dallas caught sight of a piece of timber lying across the front of the door, and began to run.

"Take care, my lad!" cried Tregelly; "There may be danger."

Abel followed, but the dog out-speeded the little party, and rushing to the front, bounded in at the open door.

"Take care! take care!" cried Abel, as he saw that the door had been forced in their absence.

But he was too late, for his cousin had rushed up, rifle in hand, and sprung into the place.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

SCRUFF GIVES WARNING.

Abel was still weak and wanting in spirit from his long illnesses, but the courage displayed by his cousin roused him to action, and he followed the others into the hut.

But it was to face no enemies, only to find Scruff sniffing about— Tregelly stamping with rage.

"What is it?" cried Abel. "Somebody been in, of course."

"Been in and carried off all they could lay hands on."

"Took advantage of our absence, Bel, and loaded themselves with stores."

"And all through not leaving the dog and risking the fire."

"Poor Scruff!" said Abel. "Perhaps it's as well, for they would probably have shot him."

"They might as well shoot us," cried Tregelly, "if this sort of thing is to go on."

"Yes," said Dallas. "Everybody round must be warned at once."

Fortunately, further examination showed that the visitors to the hut must have been hurried in their movements, and had been either unable to carry away, or had overlooked, a portion of the remaining stores, so that starvation did not quite stare them in the face; but it was absolutely necessary that a journey to the settlement should be made at once.

"My job this time," said Tregelly, as the matter was discussed by the fire, where, armed with an axe, he was busily chipping a way into the centre of the block of ice they had brought back. "Now, if those two mates of mine hadn't grown sick of it, and gone back before the winter come on, they'd just have been useful now."

"Did you quarrel?" asked Dallas.

"Quarrel? No, my son," said Tregelly, as he chipped away at the ice. "They took the right notion one day that there was the long winter to face, and that they'd better share and be off while their shoes was good."

"Well?" said Dallas.

"Well, we shared, and they went home."

Then there was silence, save that the Cornishman went on chipping away at the ice, more and more carefully, for he was getting through the top of the shell, and the golden kernel was near, Scruff watching the proceedings in rather a cynical or dog-like way, as if sneering at the trouble these two-legged animals took to obtain something not good to eat.

"Yes; it's terrible work in the dark," said Abel. "Perhaps they were right."

"But the long days are coming," said Dallas cheerfully, "and then we'll go farther north up one of the other creeks, towards the mountains. There is abundance of gold if we could find it. And we must—we will find it before we've done."

"That's right, my son," cried Tregelly. "We three won't give up till we've had a reg'lar good try. Now then, here we are: all mixed up and froze into a lump. Just hand me that iron bucket, Mr Wray, and I'll chip it out into that, and throw it down by the fire. Wonder," he added, as he began to break out the gilded ice, "whether there's much of my share left."

The pieces of ice and gold went on rattling down till the last scrap was emptied out, and the hollowed block of ice tossed out of the door.

"Let's see," said Tregelly, "my two mates said that at the end of the winter there'd only be about two hundred shillings' worth. But they were wrong," he continued, with a merry laugh, "for all my share's here, and I've added a bit more to it—enough to pay for what we want from down the river; so I haven't done so badly, after all."

"You have done wonders," cried Dallas.

"Oh, I don't know. I've worked pretty hard, though," said Tregelly, giving the contents of the bucket a twist round and pouring off some of the melted ice into another bucket. "Looks pretty, don't it, my sons? but hardly worth all the trouble one takes to get it."

He pushed the bucket right in among the embers, and the contents began to steam, till all the ice was melted, when the dirty water was drained away and the gold then turned carefully out on the iron cake griddle, baked to dryness on the wood ashes, and then examined.

"That would make Mr Redbeard's ugly mouth water if he could see it, my sons, eh?"

"Yes, it looks tempting," said Dallas. "Put it away."

"Nay; we've agreed to share now, my sons. Let's take out enough for me to spend down the river. Let the other go into your leather bag."

"No, that would not be fair," said Dallas quickly.

"I say it would, my sons; and I ought to know best. Look here: you're going to help me take care of what I've got, and I'm going to help you. Sometimes you'll get more; sometimes I shall; so you see it will come all square in the end. There," he said, in conclusion, as he roughly scraped a portion of the glittering heap aside, "what do you say to that being enough?"

"I'd take more," said Abel; "provisions will be dearer than ever."

"Right; so they will. Well, that must be plenty. Now then, where's your bag?"

This was produced, rather unwillingly, from the hiding-place.

"That's right," he continued, as the glittering treasure was poured into the leather bag. "Now then, we'll just see what we can do in the way of prog for me to take. I can hold out pretty well on some cake and plenty of tobacco. Then I'll be off."

"When do you mean to go?" said Abel.

"Go, my son? Why, now, directly. Sooner the better. Those chaps won't come back till they want some more prog. I tell you what you might do, though; go to the first shanty and tell the neighbour about those two being out on the rampage, and ask him to pass the word all along the line."

An hour later Tregelly was ready to start, and shook hands. Then he hesitated.

"What is it?" said Dallas.

"I was thinking whether I ought to go round by my claim and see how that fellow's getting on. Sometimes I'm pulled one way, sometimes I'm pulled another. But going perhaps means a bullet in my jacket, so I won't go."

He threw the leather band over his shoulder, and the next minute the sledge runners were creaking and crackling as they glided over the hardened snow, while Dallas stood listening with his companion till the last sound died out, and then hurriedly fetched load after load of fire-logs, with the dog busily at work exploring the neighbourhood in all directions, coming back at five-minute intervals panting and sending up his visible breath, till Dallas bade him go in.

"Dal," said Abel, after a few minutes' pause, during which they had been stacking the wood neatly in one corner, "don't you feel glad that you saved Scruff's life?"

"I should think I do. He's going to prove a regular policeman on the beat."

A low, deep growl came from the dog.

"Hullo! Does he object to being called a bobby?"

"Hist! No," whispered Abel, darting to the hooks upon which the rifles were hung. For the dog had trotted softly to the door, and stood looking down at the narrow opening at the bottom, and was growling more deeply than before.

"There's some one coming," whispered Dallas, "and that fire makes it as light within here as day."

The two young men darted close to the side, and drew the curtain-like rugs over the door and the little shuttered window.

Just as this was completed the dog growled again, and then burst into a deep-toned bay.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

THE ENEMY IN THE DARK.

"Ahoy there! Keep that dog quiet," cried a familiar voice from some distance off.

"It's all right," cried Dallas with a sigh of relief. "Norton."

"Here, Scruff, lie down, old man," cried Abel. "Friends, friends."

The dog whined, and waved his bushy tail as the door was opened, and their bluff friend came into the glow shed by the fire.

"How are you, my lads? Haven't seen you for ages. Didn't know you had started a dog."

"He's a visitor," said Dallas. "Come in."

The man entered and looked sideways at the dog, who had begun to smell his legs.

"Not treacherous, is he? Some of these Eskimo are brutes to snap."

"No, he understands you are friends," said Abel. "Lie down, Scruff."

The dog crouched, and watched the visitor as he sat down on a box, took out his pipe, and lit it.

"Thought I'd give you a look in as I didn't feel worky. How's things going?"

"We were coming to warn you," said Dallas; and he related what had passed.

"Them?" said Norton, springing up and putting out his pipe; "I was in hopes they were hanged. Well, I'll be off; this means a serious matter for them. We shall have to get up a hunt and stop this. Will you join?"

"Of course," said the young men in a breath.

"Then good-bye; only mind this—if you hear firing come and help."

"Yes; and you'll do the same?"

"Trust me," said the man shortly, and he shook hands and hurried away.

The next four days passed anxiously enough, and they heard no more of Norton and his friends. The first two nights watch was kept, the occupants of the hut taking turn and turn of three hours. But this duty, somewhat in accordance with the proverb of familiarity breeding contempt, was deputed to Scruff, who, however, was more contemptuous than either of his masters; for he kept the watch carefully curled-up with his tail across his eyes, in the spot where the warmest glow from the fire struck.

The fifth day passed without any news being heard from the other scattered claim-holders, and it was thought possible, though hardly likely, that Tregelly might return.

The night came on intensely black, with intervals of perfect stillness, followed by puffs of icy wind, which were charged with tiny sharp spicules of ice, which made the face tingle at the slightest exposure to its influence.

"He will not be here to-night," said Dallas, after looking out; "there's a storm brewing, and it is too dark to travel, so we may as well give him up."

"We had better sit up a few hours. He may come."

So, instead of creeping into their sleeping-bags after they had banked up the fire and made all snug, they sat talking, till warmth and weariness combined to make them drowsy, and they lay down, to fall asleep directly.

In an hour or two the blazing fire had given place to a heap of wood ashes, over which, as the rising wind swept round the place, what seemed to be a faint phosphorescent light played for a few moments and then died out.

Scruff was curled-up so tightly that he looked fixed, and he seemed blind and deaf to everything, till towards the middle of the night a watcher, had there been one, would have seen that there were two bright points visible through the thick brush so closely curled round, while directly after the dog's ears seemed to prick up.

If there had been a watcher he would in all probability have attributed this to fancy, consequent upon the faint glow which came and went about the embers, as the wind sighed round the lonely hut; for shadows darkened, and various objects grew more or less defined.

Then all idea of want of reality would have passed away, for the dog suddenly and silently sprang to his feet, took a step or two towards the door, and then stood with his head turned on one side, listening.

He remained perfectly motionless for quite a minute, as the glow from the fire grew less and less till he was almost invisible. Then suddenly throwing up his head, he uttered a low, deep-toned bark, which brought the cousins from their beds, each seizing upon the rifle laid ready.

"What is it, Scruff?" cried Dallas. "Some one there?"

There was another deep-toned bark, and the dog sprang to the door and rose up on its hind-legs, tearing at the rug which covered it until it fell.

Scruff stood there with his head on one side, listening for some minutes, during which the silence was painful in the extreme. Dallas had sprung to one side of the door, Abel to the other, and they stood close up to the rough walls, the only place where they could be in safety, for there they were beyond the vision of any one who peered through the shuttered window or the apertures of the door left exposed by the tearing down of the rough hanging.

The simplest thing, and an act which would have left them more freedom, would have been to have quenched the fire at once. But there was no water at hand, and there was sufficient light from the glowing embers to expose every movement to an enemy without.

They stood there with every nerve on the strain, listening, while the dog whined uneasily, took a trot round the fire, and returned to the door, to stand with his head on one side again.

"There must be some one out there," whispered Abel.

Dallas nodded, and made a sign to his cousin to be silent, for the dog whined uneasily again, turning to the young man, thrusting his muzzle against his hand, and looking up at him as if waiting for orders. The next moment he was at the door again, and reared up with his paws against the bar, at which he tore as if to get it down, so that he might go out into the night.

"Here, I know," cried Abel excitedly, "he must hear or feel in some way that Tregelly is close here."

"He would not come on at this time of night."

"Why not? It's as dark most of the day as it is now. Let's open the door and give a hail."

"No; listen," whispered Dallas. "He would do that."

"If he were within reach."

"He must be within reach for the dog to know," whispered Dallas. But as he spoke he doubted his own opinion, for it seemed possible that a half-wild dog's sensibilities might be sufficiently keen to feel the coming of a friend.

"Here, what is it, old fellow?" he said softly. "Some one there?"

The dog whined and tore at the bar.

"It is as I say, Dal," said Abel excitedly. "Look at him. Here, Scruff, old lad, what is it?"

The dog growled.

"That doesn't sound as if he scented a friend, Bel."

"He does, I tell you," cried Abel angrily; for he was prone to be irritable as a result of his many sufferings. "Here, let's have the door open at once."

It was as if the dog understood his words, for he dropped on all fours and uttered a deep-toned bay.

"All right, Scruff, we'll let you go," cried Abel, and seizing the rough bar, he was in the act of raising it from the notch in which it rested, when bang—bang, two shots were fired just outside, and simultaneously the door shook violently, there was a peculiar rending, splintering sound in the rough boards, and Dallas's heart gave a spasmodic leap, for he saw his cousin fall to the ground.

"Bel, lad! Hurt?" panted Dallas, stepping forward and dropping on one knee by his cousin's side.

As he spoke there were two more shots, the bullets striking the door, and one passing clean through with a whirring, humming sound, to strike the wall on the other side, Dallas's position in all probability saving his life, for the sound seemed to pass just over his head.

"Dal, old man! Hurt?" was Abel's answer.

"No, not touched. Why don't you answer? Were you hit?"

"No; I only ducked down, it seemed so near."

"Save your shot," said Dallas hoarsely. "When we fire it must be as a last resource."

Abel nodded.

"Right," he said.

"Crawl to your own side. I'll take this. The bullets will not come through the logs of the wall."

"I'm not so sure," said Abel softly; but he obeyed his cousin's order, just as a couple more shots were fired through.

The next moment Dallas was stamping and kicking out the fire, with the result that the interior of the hut grew lighter.

"Don't, don't do that, Dal," whispered Abel. "You're right in the line of fire, too."

As a proof that their position was being made more precarious a couple more shots were fired, the bullets buzzing across the interior.

"Must," was the reply. "There, the ashes will soon grow faint;" and in a few minutes the place was nearly black; but at the same time it was full of strangling wood-smoke which rose slowly towards the opening in the roof which formed their chimney.

Meanwhile shot after shot was fired through the door, and at every dull thud or tearing of the stout woodwork, the dog dashed about, snarling and barking furiously.

"Dal! Dal!" cried Abel passionately; "are we to stop here doing nothing?"

"Yes; we are not going to shoot at random. Wait a bit, and our time will come. Have you plenty of cartridges handy?"

"Yes; a pocketful."

"Don't waste them, then. One will be sufficient to silence an enemy. We must wing him—that will be sufficient. I say!"

"Yes, what?"

"Bob Tregelly would not knock at the door like this, would he?"

"Don't. I made sure it was he."

The firing went on through the door, and in the darkness, which now grew profound, the besieged made out that the direction of the bullets was varied, for those which came through struck the wall in different places—high, low, and to right and left; and the result of this was that suddenly, in spite of Dallas's endeavours to keep the dog close to him in shelter, he escaped from him to bound about, barking savagely, and the next minute, as a couple of shots came through the door, he uttered a peculiar snarling snap, and threw himself with a heavy thud against the door.

"He has got it, Bel," whispered Dallas. "Here, Scruff! Scruff!"

The dog came to him, whining, and then uttered a dismal howl.

"Poor old chap! you must lick the place," said Dallas. "I'll see to it when I can get a light."

"Badly wounded, Dal?" said Abel.

"Can't tell. No; not very bad, or he would have lain still. Has he come to you?"

"Yes," said Abel, from the other side of the door; "he has shoved his head against me."

There was a pause then, and an ejaculation full of horror.

"What is it?" anxiously.

"Ugh! The poor fellow's bleeding!"



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

A DEATH SHRIEK.

"Wait a bit—wait a bit!" said Dallas through his teeth; "we'll pay the cowardly brutes yet. Bel, it makes me feel like a savage. I could enjoy pulling the rope that was to hang them!"

"I couldn't; but I wish it was daylight and I could get a good aim at one of them. I say, they'll riddle that door."

"Wait a bit," whispered Dallas, with a curious little laugh, "and we'll answer their riddle."

The firing went on persistently, but the dog barked no more—only gave vent from time to time to a low growl, while the listeners could tell from the sound that he was applying an animal's natural remedy to his wound by licking it diligently.

And the firing went on as if the enemy were searching every part of the hut with their bullets.

"Dal," whispered Abel suddenly, "don't be startled."

"You're not going to be such an idiot as to open the door to the fire, are you?"

"No; but it would not be idiotic," said Abel quietly; "for I feel as if I could hit one of them by seeing the flash of his piece."

"What are you going to do, then?—let the dog out?"

"No, not now he is wounded. I wish we had set him free, though, at the first—he'd have startled the wretches!"

"They'd have done for him with their bowies," said Dallas. "What am I not to be startled at? Ah-h-ah! You brutes! Lie right down, Bel! They're firing at the wall now."

"Then it's time for it. Look here, I'm going to humbug them."

Two more reports came, and, as the sound died out, Abel uttered so unearthly a shriek that Dallas felt it go through him in a shudder that chilled him to the bone.

"Bel!" he panted wildly.

"All right; did it sound natural?" was whispered back.

"Oh, you wretch!" whispered Dallas; and Abel laughed.

"They'll think they've done for the dog and one of us," said Abel softly. "Let them go on firing now for a bit, and then it will be your turn; only don't squeak like I did."

"I see," said Dallas.

"You feel for something big, and when they've fired a bit more hurl it hard at the door, and then give a big groan."

"All right!"

"They'll feel sure then, and come up and begin to force open the door or the shutters. Then we must let them have it."

"Yes; four barrels at once," said Dallas.

"And some seasoning directly after from our pepper-boxes."

The dog was so quiet now that Abel trembled for his fate; but he and his companion, as they lay there in the darkness, had something else to think about, for the firing went on steadily, and they wondered it did not bring up some of the miners from their claims here and there.

"Surely they're not too cowardly to come to our help," thought Dallas.

Four shots were fired now in quick succession, as if the enemy were anxious to bring matters to an end, and Abel whispered, "Try it directly they fire again."

"Yes," said Dallas; and directly after Abel heard the handle of the galvanised iron bucket chink softly.

Then came two more shots, and in an instant Dallas dashed the bucket against the door with all his might, uttered a heavy groan, and was silent.

The firing outside ceased now, showing that the ruse had been successful; and the two young men held their breath as they listened for the nearer approach of the enemy, which they felt sure must now be imminent; but they listened a long time in vain.

At last, though, the crackling of the snow outside, as from the pressure of a heavy foot, warned them that their time was coming, and they lay ready with the muzzles of their pieces ready to direct at door or window, as the necessity might arise, and their revolvers on the floor by their knees.

Which was it to be—door or window? They would have given years of their lives to know at which to aim, and they felt now what guesswork it must be.

"They'll come to the window, I hope," thought Dallas; "and if they do I won't fire till I am sure of winging one of them."

But though they waited, no such opportunity seemed likely to come, for there was not a sound at the front after they heard the soft crackling of the snow.

All at once, when the horrible suspense seemed greater than they could bear, and Dallas felt that he must spring to his feet, rush to the door, and begin firing at random, it seemed to both that an icy hand had grasped each of them by the throat.

It was another exemplification of the aphorism that it is the unexpected which always happens. For all at once, after a long period of perfect silence, there was a peculiar grating sound at the back of the hut instead of at the front, and for a few moments both the defenders of the place were puzzled.

Then, as the sound was repeated, they realised what it was. There were several pieces of thickish pine-trunk lying outside in the snow, pieces that had been cut to form uprights for the rough shedding over their shaft. These pieces were very rough and jagged with the remains of the boughs which had been lopped off, so that they would be as easy to climb—almost—as a ladder. Two of these had been softly placed so that they lay along the slope of the roof, and up them one of the enemy was cautiously climbing, while his companion was holding them at the foot.

"Bel must grasp this," thought Dallas, who dared not whisper, for fear of giving the alarm to the enemy and putting them on their guard. For, cunning enough in the plans that had been devised, the enemy were about to ignore door and window, and make their approach by the opening in the roof through which the smoke passed.

There was a sort of lid of boards nailed a foot above to prevent the snow from falling straight through, but there was ample room for an active man to lower himself down through the hole; and, drawing a deep breath full of satisfaction, Dallas changed the direction of the muzzle of his gun, feeling quite sure that the one who was to attack would lower himself down feet first, so that the task of performing vengeance would be easy as far as one of the men was concerned, and at any rate they could make sure of him.

Dallas's teeth gritted softly together as he waited, and Abel's heart beat with heavy throbs, for he had been as quick to grasp the way of attack as his cousin. But they had not fully fathomed the enemy's plans, and were completely taken by surprise.

It was only a matter of a few minutes, but it seemed like an hour as the young men strained their eyes in the black darkness, and mentally saw one of their foes climb slowly up till he reached the sloping roof, up which he progressed steadily, the two pieces of tree rasping and crunching the thick, icy snow which clung to the roof; and then fingers trembled about triggers as the defenders tried to guess at the opening exactly in the centre of where the ridge-pole ran.

And now the sounds came more plainly; a hand was evidently feeling about for the opening, for a bit or two of snow from the edge of the hole— pieces which had not melted away—fell down amongst the embers with a soft pat, and a low, hissing sound of steam arose from the hot fire-hole.

"Now he knows exactly," thought Dallas, "and I shall hear him turn and begin to lower himself down. We ought to wait till he is more than half through before we fire. Will Bel think of this?"

He drew a long breath, for there was a heavy, rustling sound above, as if the man on the roof was altering his position. Then there came a sharp scratch, for the greater part of a box of matches had been struck all at once. Then there was a brilliant flash of light, the momentary glimpse of a big hairy hand, from which the burning matches began to fall, while the interior of the dark hut was lit up, showing the dog, with eyes glistening and bared teeth, crouched to spring, and the two young men kneeling, each with his weapon raised.

But they did not fire, feeling that it would be madness to trust to hitting the unseen, for the hand was too small a target; and before they could make up their minds what to do next, two shots were fired from outside, and a cry rang out on the midnight air.



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE STRIKING OF ANOTHER MATCH.

The long-silent dog burst out into a hoarse bark once more, as the two young men knelt there as if paralysed, and the tiny splints died out one by one where they had fallen amongst the wood ashes, while from the roof there was a horrible scrambling, struggling sound, hoarse cries, the crunching of the frozen snow, followed by the scraping sound as of some one sliding down the slope of the roof, and then a dull, heavy thud, a groan or two, and finally complete silence.

"He has it," said Dallas hoarsely.

"Hush! Hark!" cried Abel.

For there was another shot, then another, and another, till quite a dozen had rung out, each growing more and more distant; and as the young men dashed to the door now and threw it open, they saw flashes of light as other shots were fired. Then came shouting, voices calling to one another.

"Some of the lads heard the firing at last, and come to our help," said Dallas.

"Look out; there's some one coming back," whispered Abel.

"I hear him. Be ready, and if he's an enemy let him have it. Hah! Bravo! Good dog! You're not so very bad, then."

For at the sound of the heavy footsteps coming at a trot over the creaking snow Scruff uttered a fierce growl, began to bay and dashed out into the darkness.

"He'll have him," said Dallas. "But come on; we mustn't leave it all to him."

"Hullo there!" came in a cheery, familiar voice. "Good old dog!" and Scruff's fierce bay changed to a whining yelp of pleasure, while Tregelly's hearty cry of "Ahoy!" came.

"Ahoy! Ahoy!" was sent out joyfully in answer, and directly after the big Cornishman came trotting up.

"Thank God, my sons," he cried. "But what about that chap on the roof? Did I bring him down with those two shots?"

"Was it you that fired?" cried the young men in a breath.

"Of course. Who did you think it was?"

"The enemy—we did not know—some of the others come to our help," was the confused answer, given in a duet.

"Nay, it was me, my sons; he gave me such a chance—lighting up a whole box of lucifers. I could see him splendid. Going to burn you out, wasn't he?"

"No; to see if we were dead, and, if not, to fire again."

"I'm afraid the other beggar has got away."

"But you had some one with you?" said Dallas eagerly.

"Yes, I suppose so, but it is so plaguy dark. I was so long away that I made up my mind—or something I can't explain made it up for me—to come straight on and get to you early in the night; but that blessed sledge got heavier and heavier, so that I had to stop and rest and have a pipe now and then. Last time I was going to stop I was so near my shanty that I thought I'd go round by it, and see how things were there. So I did; left the sledge and crept up to it, to find a bit of fire smouldering, showing some one lived there; but nobody was at home. No, that isn't right, for when I got inside I struck a match, and somebody was at home; but he didn't live there. Understand?"

"That scoundrel who was bitten by the dog?" cried Dallas excitedly.

"Was he there?" cried Abel.

"His mummy was," said Tregelly. "I dunno how they could do it—I couldn't. I didn't want to live in such company as that. I stayed just as long as the match burned, and then I came away as fast as I could. Ugh! it wasn't nice. Those fellows can't be men."

"And then you came on?"

"Yes, my son. I came along at a horrible crawl, which was getting slower and slower; for it's no use to deny it—us big chaps have so much to carry on one pair of legs that we're downright lazy ones. There I was, getting slower and slower, and smoking my pipe, and in a rare nasty temper, cussing away at that old sledge for being so heavy, and that sleepy that I kept dropping off fast as a top, and waking up again to find myself going on like a bit o' machinery. 'This won't do,' I says to myself; and I roused up again, knowing that I couldn't have been asleep long, because my pipe wasn't out; but all the same I dreamed a lot, all about dragging a truck on a tram-line down in Botallack mine, right away under the sea. Then I'm blessed if I wasn't asleep again, fast as a top—chap told me once that didn't mean a spinning top, but a taupe, which he said was French for dormouse. But that don't matter, do it?"

"No, no," said Abel impatiently. "Go on."

"All right, my son. Where had I got to?"

"You were fast asleep again," said Dallas.

"So it was, my son; and then something woke me, and what do you think it was?"

"You heard the firing?"

"Nay; I must have yawned or sneezed, for I'd dropped my pipe; and I s'pose I'd slept longer that time, and it must have been out, for I couldn't see a spark in the dark, and although I went down on my hands and knees, and crawled in all directions with my nose close to the ground, I couldn't smell it."

"What did you do then?" said Abel.

"Swore, my son, till I was ashamed of myself, and very thankful I was that you gents couldn't hear me. 'They'd drop your acquaintance, my son,' I said to myself, 'if they heard you.' Then I got up again, and was feeling for the trace, to start off again, thinking a deal of my poor old pipe, when 'Hullo!' I says to myself, 'firing!' There it was, plain enough, two shots together, and after a bit two more.

"That was enough for me, so I slips my rifle out from where it was tied on to the sledge. Next minute, as two more shots were fired, I came, leaving the sledge to take care of itself—coming on as fast as I could, feeling sure that the enemy was at you chaps, but wondering why the firing should be so one-sided. Couldn't make it out a bit."

"But it went on, and I was wide awake enough now, and hadn't come much farther when I was brought up short by the clicking of guns being cocked, and some one says in a low voice, 'Stand,' he says, 'or we'll blow you out of your skin.' 'Two can play at that,' I says: 'who are you?' 'Norton, and six more,' says the voice; 'who are you?' 'Bob Tregelly o' Trevallack, Cornwall, mates,' I says. 'Good man and true,' says another voice. 'Look here, mate, there's firing going on up at your place; we've heard it ever so long, and couldn't quite make out where it was, but it's there for certain.' 'Yes,' I says, 'come on; but let's spread out and take or make an end of those who are firing.'"

"Hah!" ejaculated Abel. "Go on."

"They did just as I told 'em, and spread out, while I crept nigher and nigher, reglarly puzzled, for the firing had stopped. Last of all I saw that chap's face as he lit up a whole box of matches. That was enough for me. I knew him again."

"Was it Redbeard?" said Dallas excitedly.

"No, my son; I'm sorry to say it wasn't the moose with the finest pair of horns; but I had to take what I could get, and I fired. But I've left the sledge out yonder to take care of itself. I hope none o' them ruffians o' street-boys'll find it and get helping themselves."

"Then Redbeard has got away again," said Abel.

"Don't know yet, my son, till the others come back. They may have had better luck than I did."

At that moment Scruff burst out in a deep-toned bark from the back of the hut.

"Look out," said Tregelly sharply, as they halted, having reached the front. "We may get a shot if he's only wounded."

"Spread out, and let's take both sides together."

They separated in the darkness, and advanced with finger on trigger, ready to fire. "Stand!"

"Stand!"

"Oh, it's you!"

"Oh, it's you!"

"Yes, my son; it's me. Where's the game I shot?"

"We have not seen him," said Dallas. "He must have crawled away."

"Wounded beasts are dangerous," said Tregelly, "so look out."

"But where's the dog?" said Abel, in a hoarse whisper. "Hi! Scruff! Scruff!"

A sharp bark came from close at hand in the darkness.

"Look here," whispered the big Cornishman; "you two get your pieces to your shoulders and be ready. I'm going to chance it and light a match. Ready?"

"Yes."

"Then come on!"



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

THE HELP THAT CAME LATE.

There was a momentary pause, and then—

Scratch went the match, and the tiny flame feebly lit up the place, to show them the great dog sitting at the edge of the shaft, looking down.

Then the light went out.

"All right, my sons," said Tregelly coolly. "Let's go in and get the lantern. The beggar has rolled about, and dropped down the pit. Sorry we can't cover him up. But we can't, on account of the gold."

Just then there came a hail, and another, and another, while when the lantern was lit and held up it served as a beacon to bring six men up to the hut door.

"Got the other one?" cried Tregelly.

"No; he got away in the darkness," said Norton. "But what about the one you shot at?"

"He's yonder," said Tregelly. "Rolled down into the shaft."

So it proved, for by the light of the lantern the body of one of the marauders was hauled up.

"Stone dead," said Tregelly.

"Well, it has saved him from being hanged."

"And others from having to do it," said another.

"But no one will be safe till his mate's in the same state," said Tregelly.

"And he soon will be," said another. "Glad we all came in time to help you two."

"We are most grateful, gentlemen," said Dallas. "Leave the unhappy wretch where he is. Come inside, and rest and refresh."

It was about an hour later, when their fellow gold-seekers who had come to their help had gone, promising to return next day and help over the interment of the dead man, that Dallas turned to Tregelly, who was seated with his big arms resting upon his knees, gazing down into the cheery fire that had been lit.

"Sleepy, Bob?"

"Nay, my son. Never felt so wide awake in my life. I'm thinking."

"What about?" asked Abel.

"About having killed a man," said the big fellow gravely.

"It was in self-defence," said Dallas.

"I dunno, my son. You see, I never give him a chance. Seems rather cowardly."

"The wretch was trying to destroy our lives," cried Abel hotly.

"Eh?"

"Yes; he and his companion had been firing at us for long enough," said Abel.

"Ah," cried Dallas, "and they did wound the dog. Here, old fellow, let's look at you."

In effect, the dog was just then licking at one particular part of his back, and examination proved that a bullet had ploughed off a little strip of skin.

"Only make him sore for a bit," said Tregelly, after he had examined the dog in turn. "Poor old chap! I wish I'd a bit o' pitch to touch it over for you. But I hadn't thought of that, my sons."

"Thought of what?"

"'Bout him trying to kill you. That didn't make it quite so bad o' me, did it?"

"Bad? It was stern justice, meted out to a murderer," said Dallas firmly.

Tregelly looked at him for some moments thoughtfully. "Think so?" he said.

"Of course!" cried Abel, "and so do I. You didn't want us to be killed, did you?"

"Lor' a mussy me, my son! of course not. That's why I took aim at him."

"And saved our lives, Bob," cried Dallas, clapping him hard on the shoulder.

"You think, then, that they'd have settled you if I hadn't come and stopped their little game?"

"I feel sure of it," cried Dallas.

"Hah! Yes, of course. Thank ye, my sons. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable, and beginning to think that I should be having the chap coming to bed to me every night and telling me how I'd shot him in a cowardly way; but I shan't now. That's done me a lot o' good. Hah! I feel now as if I should like a pipe."

The big, amiable, honest face lit up, and was lightened by a smile as he began searching his pockets for his tobacco-pouch and pipe.

"You see, I never killed a man before," he said. "But you can hardly call a chap like that a man. More like a wild beast—sort o' tiger."

"It's insulting a wild beast to say so, Bob," cried Dallas warmly. "A wild beast kills for the sake of food. What's the matter?"

"Pipe," said Tregelly, rising slowly and reaching out for the lantern. "I told you I dropped it out yonder, and it's somewhere by the sledge."

"Leave that till daylight, and we'll go with you."

"Won't be any daylight for hours and hours to come," said Tregelly, putting out the light and feeling for his matches. "I can't wait all that time for a pipe. 'Sides, the sledge ought to be brought in."

"You mean to go now," said Dallas.

"Oh, yes, my son, I mean to go now. 'Tarn't so very far."

"All right; we'll go with him, Bel. There's no fear of the other scoundrel being about."

"I don't know, my sons," said Tregelly gravely. "He can't be very far away, and he's got his knife into us very deep now. P'r'aps it would be as well if you stopped here and got the breakfast ready."

"If we did," replied Dallas, "we should feel that you would never come back to eat it. Eh, Bel?"

"Yes; I'm going. We must leave Scruff to keep house for us this time."

But the dog did not seem to see matters in the same light. One minute he was giving a finishing lick to his wound; the next he had shot out through the open door, barking excitedly, and looking ready to scent out and run down the last of the savage gang.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

BY THE SKIN OF HIS TEETH.

Aided by Scruff, a fairly correct line was made for the forsaken sledge, the dog seeming to know exactly what was wanted, and preventing them from over-running the spot where it had been left.

This was the only thing they dreaded, for the track was—through not being beaten—almost obliterated again and again by falls of snow; but it was tolerably familiar now, the winding creek and the edge of the scrubby forest forming pretty good guides.

It was still very dark when they reached the place, Scruff uttering a low snuffling whine; but it was not easy to find a small object like a briar wood pipe.

"Must have been somewhere here I dropped it," said Tregelly. "If it was daylight I should see it directly on the white snow. Better light the lantern, I suppose."

"It would be like inviting a shot from Redbeard if he is near."

"Think so, my son?" said Tregelly thoughtfully.

"He would be almost sure to make for his old lair."

"My old lair, you mean, my son."

"Well, your old lair, then."

"Yes, it do seem likely," said the big fellow, rubbing his ear. "Giving him such a chance to aim at us. Yes, it won't do; but I must find that pipe. Look here, s'pose I go up to my hut and see if he's there."

"Do," said Dallas, "and we'll go with you and trap him if he is there."

"Hoomph!" grunted Tregelly. "I'm feared there won't be any trapping, my sons. If he's there he won't be took without a hard fight. Hadn't you two better let that be till the other fellows come back? Then we could lay siege to him and finish him off for it must come to that."

"We are three to one," said Dallas quietly. "It seems cowardly to wait for more."

"Dunno," said their companion. "He don't fight fair, or I'd tackle him myself. You see, he aren't a man; he's a savage beast. Look here, we've got the sledge; let's take it on. I'll go without my pipe."

"No; you shall not," said Dallas. "Let's go to the hut. He may not be there. Perhaps fled far enough."

"I dunno, my son. He'd run when he was beat for his old shelter, and I don't like making you two run bad risks just because I want a pipe o' bacca."

"We do not look at it in that light, Bob," said Dallas firmly. "This man is our mortal enemy, who seems determined to have our lives out of revenge, and it is our duty to save those lives at his expense. After what has passed I look upon him as a sort of human tiger whose claws must be drawn. Let's take this opportunity of capturing the brute. We'll go together and draw his fire; or perhaps we shall be able to see and disable him without his being able to do us any mischief."

Tregelly shook his head solemnly.

"Chaps like that, with their lives in their hands, are all eyes, and when they aren't all eyes they're all ears. I don't like this business, my sons; but what you say's quite right, and I can't help feeling that we've got a chance at him now, and the dark may help us; while if he's gone back there and roused up the fire I can make sure of him. There, it's got to be done, and if we leave it the job may be worse."

"Yes, perhaps much."

"That's so, my son. We shall have to go about with the knowledge that that fellow's always close at hand, marking us down for a shot."

"Better seize this opportunity," said Abel hoarsely. "I feel as if we may master him now."

"What do you say, Mr Dallas?" asked Tregelly.

"I say as my cousin does. Let's try."

"Good, then, we'll go; on'y mind this, my sons: we're going because it's our dooty."

"Of course."

"Not because I want a pipe."

"No; you have already proved that you do not wish to be selfish," said Dallas, "so come on."

"Nay, I'll lead, my sons," cried the big fellow. "It's my shanty, and I know every step of the way. You'd go right up to the door, and he'd have first chance of a shot. That won't do for me. We must get first chance, and make him shoot at random, which means at nothing at all. Now then, follow me. Don't fire unless you get a good chance."

"But what is your plan, Bob?" said Dallas eagerly.

"Get him to fire, my son, and then go at him before he has time to load again."

The lantern was left with the sledge, and with every nerve now upon the strain the two young men followed their sturdy companion, who gave them but few words as to their proceedings.

"Don't be in a hurry to fire," he said, "but when you get your chance, let him have it. Now, tread softly, and come on."

The distance was comparatively short, and Abel's heart beat fast and loud, as, upon passing through a thick clump of pines, there in front of them shone the light of a wood fire through the open door of Tregelly's hut.

The owner stopped short and whispered.

"He's there," he said; "the fire has been made up."

"But he must have been and gone," said Dallas. "The door is wide open."

"His artfulness," said the Cornishman. "It's so as he can hear our coming, and to throw dust in our eyes. He's there, or else outside waiting for us, so look out."

They crept cautiously on, abreast now and hand on trigger, ready to fire at a moment's notice, front, right, or left, from wherever the danger appeared; but the icy snow crackled beneath their heavy boots, in spite of every care, and when they were about thirty yards from the open door they stopped short, feeling that the better way would be to step boldly forward, for their approach must have been heard.

But still Tregelly hesitated, feeling, as he did, that the peril was very great for them to advance into the light thrown from the open door, when the result would probably be a repetition of his own shot a few hours before.

"Open out," he whispered suddenly, "and keep away from the light. I'll take the right side; you two take the left, and when I whistle we'll all rush in together."

It was no time for disputation. Tregelly was leader, and Dallas and Abel felt it to be their duty to obey. Striking off, then, to the left into the shadow, which looked intensely black by contrast, they had one glimpse of Tregelly's huge form, and then the broad band of ruddy light from the door cut off everything, while well upon their guard they approached nearer and nearer, feeling that Tregelly must be nearing the building at about the same rate.

It was a task which, in spite of the extremely short distance, made Dallas breathe hard, and feel as if he were going through some great exertion, before he was so close that he could nearly touch the rough trunks which formed the wall, the thick thatching of pine-boughs stretching out like the roof of a verandah, so that the darkness seemed more intense where they stood waiting for the signal which seemed as if it would never come.

And as Dallas stood in the deep silence the popping and crackling of the burning wood came out of the open doorway sharp and clear, while it seemed to him that Abel's breath sounded as hoarse and loud as that of one in a deep sleep.

At last! a clear, sharp, chirruping trill, and Abel and Tregelly darted into the light as if urged forward by the same spring, while Dallas stood for the moment petrified—unable to stir. For from the upright logs close to which he stood a great hand seemed to dart out, holding him fast, while simultaneously another hand struck him a tremendous blow upon the shoulder.

He closed with his assailant, but the next moment he was hurled to the ground.

As, half-stunned by his fall, Dallas struggled to his feet, there was a heavy trampling heard as of one escaping in the darkness over the snowy ground, and at the same moment Tregelly and Abel appeared at the door in the full light of the fire.

"Where are you, lad?" shouted the former.

"Here, here!" panted Dallas.

"Hah!" cried Tregelly. "Fire, my lad, fire!"

Two more shots rang out in the direction of the retiring steps, with the result that there was a sudden cessation of the sounds; but directly after two more shots were fired out of the darkness, and a couple of bullets whistled through the open doorway.

In an instant Tregelly and Abel sprang to right and left, and fired again in the direction of the flashes they had seen.

"Missed him!" growled Tregelly, as the faint sound of retreating steps was again heard. "He's too many for us. Don't fire, my lads. Waste of powder and shot. How was it, Mr Dallas?"

There was no reply, Dallas standing close by breathing hard, with his hand pressed upon his shoulder.

"Are you there, Dal?" cried Abel anxiously, for his cousin was invisible in the darkness.

"Yes, yes, I'm here," said Dallas, in a strange tone of voice.

"What is it, my son?" cried Tregelly anxiously.

"I'm afraid I'm hurt," said Dallas, stooping to recover his rifle. "He struck me on the shoulder with his right hand, and the place is numbed. I can feel nothing there but a smarting pain; but it bleeds, and the cloth is cut."

Tregelly caught him up in his arms as if he were a child, bore him into the hut, threw him on the bed, and tore off his jacket so as to expose the place to the light.

"Yes, he has knifed you, my son," said Tregelly hoarsely; "but it's a mere scratch. He meant it, though, but reached over a bit too far."

"You are saying this to calm me," said Dallas excitedly. "He struck me a tremendous blow."

"Yes, my son; but it must have been with his wrist. I'm not cheating you. It's the simple truth. It isn't worth tying up."

"Thank God!" sighed Dallas. "I suppose I'm a bit of a coward, but the horror of it made me feel sick as a dog."

"Such a crack as he must have given you would have made me feel sick, my son. Did it knock you down?"

"No; I closed with him, but he tripped and threw me heavily."

"Well, that would make you feel sick, my son, without anything else. Here, on with your jacket again, and let's get out into the darkness. It's like asking the beggar to come and pot us, standing here."

They hurried out directly after, to stand listening; but all was still.

"Now then," said Tregelly, "we'd best get the sledge and make our way home; but what do you think of my gentleman now? Oughtn't we to scrunch him like one would a black beetle?"

"Yes," said Abel fiercely, "and the first time we can. But where's the dog? Can that be he in the distance?"

A faint baying sound, followed by what sounded like revolver shots, several in succession, was heard. Then once more all was still for a few moments, when the firing began again.



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

WHEN SLEEP IS MASTER.

"Hear that?" cried Abel excitedly. "The scoundrel! The ruffian! He's firing at the dog."

"Yes, my son," said Tregelly quietly; "and I'm not surprised, for old Scruff can be pretty nasty when he likes."

"But you don't stir. Are we going to stand here and listen to that poor brute being murdered?"

"It would be about madness to go after him, my son," said Tregelly, coolly; "and after all, he isn't likely to hit the dog in the dark."

A few minutes later they found the sledge, and as they were about to start, Dallas kicked against something hard, which went spinning along the ice-covered snow.

"What's that?" he said. "Why, Tregelly, it must be your pipe."

"Yes. It struck against me," cried Abel. "Here it is," he added in triumph.

"Hooroar!" cried Tregelly. "Now, I call that fine, my sons. Why, if old Scruff comes back and says he's killed Master Redbeard, this'll be about as pleasant a time as I ever spent. But how's your arm, Master Dallas?"

"Smarts, and feels wretched and numb, that's all. I can help pull the sledge."

"All right, my son," cried Tregelly, giving the line a jerk; but in vain, for the sledge was immovable, the runners being frozen to the surface of the snow. "I say; think o' that."

Dallas and Abel gave the sledge a wrench, set it at liberty, and it glided smoothly on, Tregelly insisting on dragging it all the way back to the hut, where they shut themselves in, and then prepared an early breakfast; but before it was ready there was a familiar thump on the rough door, and Scruff was admitted, apparently free from fresh injuries, for he gave all an intelligent look, and then seated himself by the fire to lick his wound, before curling up and going to sleep.

"I wish I could do that," said Dallas.

"Do it without the curl," said Tregelly, smiling. "It's the best thing for a man who has had such a shake as you have."

"No, no. The ruffian may come back."

"He won't come yet, my son," said Tregelly; "but if he should think it best to give us another call, don't you be uneasy; we'll wake you up."

A quarter of an hour later Dallas was fast asleep, and Abel looked up at Tregelly inquiringly.

"Is the sleep natural?" he whispered.

"Yes; why shouldn't it be?" was the reply.

"It seems so strange, after the excitement we have been through during the last twenty-four hours."

"Done up, my son; regular exhausted, and wants rest."

"But I could not sleep, knowing as I do that the enemy might attack us at any time. Think of the danger."

"I wonder you ever went to sea, then, my son," said Tregelly, good-humouredly. "There's always danger of the ship sinking; and yet you went to your berth, I suppose, every night, and slept soundly enough, didn't you?"

"Of course."

"And I'll be bound to say you go to sleep this morning before long."

"Not I. Impossible," said Abel, with a touch of contempt in his tone.

But Tregelly was the better judge of human nature, and before an hour had passed away, weariness, the darkness, and the warmth of the fire had combined to conquer, and Abel sank sidewise on the rough packing-case which formed his easy chair, and slept soundly till the short daylight had passed, and they were well on towards the evening of another day.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

THE RED GLOW.

Weary month after month passed by, with the indefatigable adventurers leading the life of labourers working in a terrible climate to win just a bare existence from the soil.

"I would not care so much if we could feel safe," said Dallas; "but big as the country is, that scoundrel seems to be always on our track."

"He do, he do, my son," said Tregelly. "He means paying us off."

"Well, we are doing no more now than when we started, while others are making fortunes. Let's strike right up into the mountains, make a bold stroke for fortune, and give that scoundrel the slip."

The start was made, the little party striking right away into one or other of the lonely valleys running northward; but it was always the same—the gold was no more plentiful, and again and again they had ample proof that their enemy, who seemed to have a charmed life, was still following them.

Constant disappointment had been their portion, and a general feeling of being utterly worn out was dulling their efforts, when toward the close of a dreary day Tregelly exclaimed:

"Look here, my sons; I think we've seen the end of that red-headed ruffian at last."

"I wish I could think so," said Dallas.

"No," said Abel; "we shall see him again. I feel that he'll be the death of us all."

"Bah! you're in the dumps again," said Tregelly. "I feel that we must have completely given the scoundrel the slip by our last move. I'm not one of your grumbling sort, am I?"

"No, Bob, no," said Dallas sadly. "I envy you the calm patience and perseverance you possess."

The Cornishman laughed.

"Did possess, my son. I did have a lot, but it's all used up to the last scrap, and I'm regularly done."

Abel looked at him in surprise, but Dallas seemed too dejected to notice anything, and sat forward, haggard and staring, with his eyes fixed upon their struggling fire.

"Well, don't you believe me?" said Tregelly.

"I always believe what you say, Bob; but I don't understand what you mean now."

"You don't? Well, then, I'll soon make you, my son. It's like this: I feel just like a squirrel in a cage, galloping on over miles of wire and never getting a bit farther, or like one of those chaps on the old-fashioned treadmill, who were always going upstairs, but never got to the top."

"Look here," said Dallas, springing up suddenly from his seat in the rough shelter made with pine-boughs, where they had been now for some days, while they tried the banks of a tiny creek, one of many which they had followed to their sources in their daring quest. "This is no time for idle talk; which is it to be? Shall we retreat at once, and try to get back to the main river, where we may find help, and perhaps save our lives, or go on?"

There was a dead silence, and then a gust of wind swept down the narrow valley, laden with fine, dusty snow, evidently a forerunner of a wintry storm.

"If we start back now," said Abel at last, "we are not sure of reaching the settlement before the winter sets in."

"And if we do we've nothing left to live upon, my sons. You see, those last supplies emptied the bag, and we've never settled down since. You both said, 'Let it be a man or a mouse.'"

"And you said 'All right,'" cried Dallas angrily.

"So I did, my son; but I hoped we should turn out men instead of mice."

"Well," said Dallas bitterly, "we must not find fault with one another. We did our best."

"That's true," said Tregelly. "Hear, hear. Go on. What were you going to say?"

"That I have had it my own way for long enough, but now I'll give up to you two. There's no gold worth getting here, so if you both say, 'Let's make a dash back for life before we are shut in by the winter that seems to be coming on early,' I'm ready, and we'll make a brave fight for it."

"And if we say, 'No! Let's go on and fight for the stuff to the last'— what then?"

"We will not look back," cried Dallas, stepping outside, to stand gazing, with a far-off look in his eyes, straight along the narrow ravine running up into the savage-looking snow-covered mountains.

"Go on," said Abel, who seemed to catch his cousin's enthusiasm as he stood there, gradually growing whitened by the fine drifting snow.

"Go on?" said Dallas, without turning his head; "well, let's go on. The gold must be up yonder, where it crumbles or is ground out of the rocky mountains, to be washed, in the course of ages, down the streams into the gravel and sand."

"Ay, there must be plenty of it up yonder, my son," said Tregelly, stepping out to shade his eyes and gaze upward towards the wilderness of mountains to the north, probably never yet trodden by the foot of man.

"Then I say, as we have come so far, let's go on and find it," cried Dallas; "and if we fail—well, it is only lying down at last to sleep! No one will know, for our bones will never be found. I feel as if I can't go back—and you, Bel?"

For answer Abel laid his hand upon his cousin's shoulder, and stood gazing with him into the dimly seen, mysterious land, just as, high up, one of the snowy summits suddenly grew bright and flashed in the feeble sunshine which played upon it for a few minutes before the snow-clouds closed in again.

And as if the one bright gleam had inspired him, Tregelly began to whistle softly.

"Look here!" he cried, "never say pitch a thing up when there's a bit of hope left. 'To win or to die' is my motto!"

"And mine," cried Dallas, enthusiastically.

"And mine," said Abel, in a soft, low, dreamy voice.

"Then look here," said Tregelly; "we've got enough to give us all a small ration for seven days, so let's load up one sledge and leave the others. Then we can take it in turns and push right on up into the mountains with nothing to hinder us. Snow don't make a bad shelter when you've plenty of blankets, and there's nothing to fear now. Old Redbeard never could have come up here; he must have gone off by one of the side gulches, and got round and back to where he can rob some one else."

"Yes; we must have passed him days ago," said Dallas.

"Very well, then, we can all sleep o' nights without keeping watch."

"And we can push on and on, just trying the rocks with the hammer here and there wherever we find a place clear of ice."

"That's the way, my son, and who knows but what we may shoot a bear or something else to keep us going for another week, eh?"

Abel nodded—he could not trust himself to speak; and then, with determination plainly marked in their haggard faces, they set to work in the shelter of the dwarfed pines around them, and packed one sledge with all they felt to be necessary to take on this forlorn hope expedition, and with it the last of their dwindling store of food.

"There," cried Dallas, pointing up the narrow gully, as they finished their preparations, "how could we despair with such a sign as that before us?"

His companions stood and looked up in the direction indicated, where the transformation that had taken place was wonderful.

An hour before they had gazed through drifting, dusty snow at forbidding crags and wintry desolation. For a few minutes that one peak had flashed out hopefully, but only to fade away again, while now their eyes literally ached with the dazzling splendour of what seemed to be a grotto-like palace of precious stones, set in frosted silver and burnished gold; for the mountains blazed in the last rays of the setting sun with the hues of the iris magnified into one gorgeous sheen.

"Yes, that looks as if we'd got to the golden land at last, my sons," said Tregelly. "It's something like what one has dreamed of after reading the 'Arabian Nights'; only you see they aren't fast colours, and they won't wash."

"Never mind," said Dallas; "we know that the gold must be there, and we'll find it yet. Ready?"

For answer Tregelly picked up the trace, and was about to pass it over his head, but he paused and looked round.

"Here," he cried; "where's that there dog?"

Abel went into the rough shelter they had made, to find Scruff curled-up fast asleep beneath one of the skins they were going to leave behind; but he sprang up at a touch, and trotted out to take his place by Tregelly, who slipped his slight harness over the sturdy animal's head.

"No shuffling now, my son," he said merrily. "You're stores, you know, and we shall want you to eat when the rest of the prog is done. Forward! we're going to do it now."



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE LAST BIVOUAC.

Shortening days and shortening distances in and out of the wild ravine, where the water ran trickling merrily along in the brief sunny hours, but froze hard again at night. Every halting-place was more difficult to reach than the last, and climbing up the slippery sides of the stream bed was as often the means of progression as the simple tramp.

The sledge grew more difficult to draw, though its weight was really less and less: but in a mechanical way all joined hands in getting it over masses of rock, or through cracks where at times it became wedged in fast. For it could not be left behind, loaded as it was with the links which held them to life.

And at last the brief day came to an end, when the shortest journey of all had been made, little more than a mile along the narrow rift with its often perpendicular sides, where the greater part of the way had been one constant climb over the rock-burdened bed of the stream, whose sources were somewhere in the icy region, apparently as far away as when they started on their journey.

They had halted in a narrow amphitheatre of rocks, on one side of which lay a shelf dotted with dwarf pines, thick, sturdy, and old, many having shed their last needles years before, and displaying nothing now but thin bare trunks and a few jagged, weather-worn boughs. Snow had fallen heavily in the mountains during the previous night, and the side of the amphitheatre at the back of the shelf to which they had dragged the sledge was glazed with ice, where the snow above had melted in the warm mid-day rays, and frozen again and again.

It was bitter winter all around as the short day began to close in; but there was plenty of wood, and they felt if they climbed higher next day it would be into the region of wiry heaths and moss.

Quite instinctively, axe in hand, each of the weary three made for the dead wood and began to cut and break down the brittle boughs.

"Ay, that's right, my sons," said Tregelly, with the ghost of a smile; "let's have a good fire if it is to be the last."

The smile was reflected in Dallas's face, and he nodded; but he did not speak—only went on hacking away in a mechanical fashion, and the small wood was heaped-up against the icy wall at the back of the broad shelf. Then a match was struck and sheltered till the smallest twigs caught; these communicated with the larger, and in a very short time there was a roaring fire, whose heat was reflected from the glazed surface of the rock, making the snow melt all around and run off till there was dry bare rock, on one piece of which, full in the warm glow, Scruff curled-up and went to sleep.

Outside the snow lay deep and high, as it had been drifted in the heavy fall, forming a good shelter from the wind; and by a liberal use of their axes the dwarf firs that they cut down proved a good shelter when laid in a curve on the other side, while when no longer wanted for that purpose they would be free from the clinging snow and more fit to burn.

Roof there was none save the frosty sky, spangled with myriads of stars; but the weary party paid no heed to that want. There was the fire, and in due time the tin of hot tea to pass round, and the roughly made bread. They seemed to want no more, only to lie down and rest in the warmth shed by the crackling wood—to take a long, long rest, and wake— where?

The question was silently asked by each of his inner self again and again, but never answered, for no answer seemed to be needed. The weary, weary day two years long was at an end. They had worked well and failed; they could do no more; all they wanted was rest and forgetfulness—peace, the true gold after all.

Sleep was long coming to Dallas, weary though he was; and he lay there with his head slightly raised, gazing at the weird scene, distorted and full of strange shadows, as the fire rose and fell.

There lay, big and heavy, the sturdy friend and companion in so many adventures, just as he had lain down; and close by, poor Abel, the most unfortunate of the party, so near that he could rest his hand upon the rough coat of the dog.

"Poor Bel!" mused Dallas; "how unfortunate he has been!"

But the next minute he was thinking of how trivial the troubles of the past seemed to be in comparison with this—the greatest trouble of them all. For though they had all lain down to sleep so calmly, and with the simple friendly good-night, they had all felt that it was for the last time, and that their weary labours were at an end.

"All a mistake—a vain empty dream of a golden fortune," Dallas said to himself. "The idea was brave and strong, but it was the romance of a boy. Fortunes are not to be made by one stroke, but by patient, hard work, long thought as to how that work shall bring forth fruit, and then by constant application. Ah, well, we are not the first to make such mistakes—not the first to turn our backs upon the simple substance to grasp at the great shadow."

He lay gazing sadly at the crackling fire, whose flames danced, and whose sparks eddied into spirals and flew upwards on the heated air; and then with eyes half-closed he watched the glowing embers as the great pieces of wood became incandescent. He was still gazing into the fire with a dull feeling of pitying contempt for himself, seeing imaginary caverns and ravines of burnished gold, when with a sigh upon his lip as he thought of the simple-hearted, loving mother watching and waiting at home for those who would never cross the threshold again, sleep came to press heavily upon the half-closed eyelids, and all was blank.



CHAPTER FORTY.

THE SOLID REALITY.

A strange feeling of stiffness and cold so painful that for some moments Dallas could not move, but lay gazing straight before him at the heap of ashes, which gave forth a dull glow, just sufficient at times to show the curled-up form of the great dog, and beyond him, rolled up like a mummy and perfectly still, Abel, just as he had last seen him before he closed his eyes. It was so dark that he could not see Tregelly, and he lay trying in vain to make him out.

His head was dull and confused, as if he had slept for a great length of time, and his thoughts would not run straight; but every train of thought he started darted off into some side track which he could not follow, and he always had to come back to where he had made his start.

There it was—some time ago, when they had piled up the fire to a great height so that it might burn long and well while they all sank painlessly and without more trouble into the sleep of death.

And now by slow degrees he began to grasp what seemed to be the fact, that while his companions, even the dog, had passed away, he was once more unfortunate, and had come back, as it were, to life, to go alone through more misery, weariness, and despair.

He shivered, and strangely inconsistent worldly thoughts began to crawl in upon him. He felt he must thrust the unburned pieces of pine-wood closer together, so that they might catch fire and burn and radiate some more heat. It was so dark, too, that he shuddered, and then lay staring at the perpendicular wall beyond the fire—the wall that looked so icy and cruel over-night, but now dim, black, and heavy, as if about to lean over and crush them all out of sight.

Yes, he ought, he knew, to thrust the unburned embers together and put on more wood, so as to make a cheerful blaze; but he had not the energy to stir. He wanted another rug over him; but to get it he would have had to crawl to the sledge, and he was too much numbed to move. Besides, he shuddered at the idea of casting a bright light upon his surroundings, for he felt that it would only reveal the features of his poor comrades hardened into death.

And so it was that he lay for long enough in the darkness, till the numb sensation began to give way to acute pain, which made him moan with anguish and mentally ask what he had done that he should have been chosen to remain there and go through all that horror and despair again.

The natural self is stronger than the educated man in times of crisis. A despairing wretch tells himself that all is over, and plunges into a river or pool to end his weary life; but the next moment the nature within him begins to struggle hard to preserve the life the trained being has tried to throw away.

It was so here. Dallas made a quick movement at last, turned over, and picked up a half-burned, still smouldering piece of pine, painfully raked others together with it, and threw it on the top, glad to cower over the warm embers, for the heat thrown out was pleasant.

As he sat there after raking the ashes more together, and getting closer, it was to feel the warmth strike up into his chilled limbs, and fill the rug he had drawn round his shoulders with a gentle glow.

Soon after, the collected embers began to burn, and a faint tongue of flame flickered, danced, went out, and flickered up again, illuminating the darkness sufficiently to let him make out that the banked up snow had largely melted, and that Tregelly had crawled away from where he had lain, and come over to his, Dallas's, side, apparently to place his heavy bulk as a shelter to keep off the bitter wind from his young companion.

There was something else, too, which he did not recognise as having seen before he lay down—something dark where the bank of snow had been, which had wonderfully melted away in the fierce glow of the fire; for that sheltering bank had been so big before.

What did it matter to one who was suffering now the agonising pangs of hunger to augment those of cold?

But the sight of the big motionless figure dimly seen by the bluish flickering light appealed strongly to the sufferer, and something like a sob rose to his throat as he thought of Tregelly's brave, patient ways, and the honest truth of his nature.

These feelings were sufficient to urge him forward from where he crouched, to go and lean over the recumbent figure and lay a hand upon the big clenched fist drawn across the breast of the dead.

It was a hand of ice, and with a piteous sigh Dallas drew back and crept to where Abel lay rolled in his rugs. Just then the dancing flame died out, and it was in the pitchy darkness that Dallas felt for his cousin's face.

The next moment he uttered a cry, and there was a quick rustling sound as of something leaping to its feet. Then the dog's cold nose touched his cheek, and there was a low whine of satisfaction, followed by a panting and scuffling as the dog transferred his attentions to Abel.

"And we're both left alive," half groaned Dallas; but the dog uttered a joyous bark, and he sprang painfully to his feet, for a familiar gruff voice growled:

"Now, then, what's the matter with you, my son?" And then: "Fire out? How gashly dark!"

"Bob!" faltered Dallas.

"You, Master Dallas? Wait a bit, my son, and I'll get the fire going. How's Mr Wray?"

There was a weary groan, and Abel said dreamily: "Don't—don't wake me. How cold! How cold!"

Tregelly sighed, but said nothing for the moment, exerting himself the while in trying to fan the flickering flame into a stronger glow, and with such success that the horrible feeling of unreality began to pass away, with its accompanying confusion, and Dallas began to realise the truth.

"I—I thought you were lying there dead," he said at last.

"Oh, no, my son; I'm 'live enough," said Tregelly, who still bent over the fire; "but I never thought to open my eyes again. Shall I melt some snow over the fire? There is a scrap or two more to eat, and when it's light we might p'r'aps shoot something. But I say, we must have slept for an awful long time, for we made a tremendous fire, and the snow's melted all about wonderful."

"Yes, wonderfully," said Dallas, who crouched there gazing at the figure where the bank of snow had been.

"It's my belief that we've slept a good four-and-twenty hours, and that it's night again."

"Think so?"

"I do, my son, and it's to-morrow night, I believe. I say, how the snow has melted away. Why, hullo!" he shouted, as the flames leapt up merrily now, "who's that?"

"I don't know," faltered Dallas; "I thought at first it was you."

"Not a dead 'un?" whispered Tregelly in an awestruck tone.

"Yes; and whoever it was must have been buried in that bank of snow, so that we did not see him last night."

Tregelly drew a burning brand from the fire, gave it a wave in the air to make it blaze fiercely, and stepped towards the recumbent figure lying there.

"Hi! Look here, my son," he cried. "No wonder we didn't see him come back."

Dallas grasped the fact now, and the next moment he too was gazing down at the fierce face, icily sealed in death, the light playing upon the huge red beard, while the eyes were fixed in a wild stare.

"Hah!" ejaculated Tregelly. "He'll do no more mischief now, my son. But what was he doing here? Rather a chilly place for a man to choose for his lair. Thought he was safe, I suppose. Only look."

For a few moments Dallas could not drag his eyes from the horrible features of their enemy, about which the dog was sniffing in a puzzled way. But at last he turned to where Tregelly was waving the great firebrand, which shed a bright light around.

"It was his den, Master Dallas," growled Tregelly. "Look here, this was all covered with snow last night when we lit the fire, and it's all melted away. Why, only look, my son; he spent all his time trying to do for us, and what's he done?—he's saved all our lives. Flour, bacon, coffee. What's in that bag? Sugar. Why, this is all his plunder as he's robbed from fellows' huts. There's his gun, too, and his pistol. But what a place to choose to live in all alone! You'd ha' thought he'd have had a shelter. Here, I'm not going to die just yet."

A wave of energy seemed to inspire the great fellow, who picked up the rug that had sheltered him during the night, and gave Dallas a nod.

"When a man dies," he said solemnly, "he wipes out all his debts. We don't owe him nothing neither now."

As Tregelly spoke he drew the rug carefully over the figure lying there, and the next minute set to work to make the fire blaze higher, while Dallas, with half-numbed hands, tried to help him by filling the billy with pieces of ice, setting it in the glowing embers, and refilling it as the solid pieces rapidly melted down.

They were both too busy and eager to prepare a meal from the life-saving provender they had so strangely found, to pay any heed to Abel.

"Let him rest, my son, till breakfast's ready; he's terribly weak, poor lad. Mind, too, when we do rouse him up, not to say a word about what's lying under that rug. I'll pitch some wood across it so as he shan't notice before we wake him up."

Dallas nodded, and with a strange feeling of renewed hope for which he could not account, he worked away; for it seemed the while that the store of provisions they had found would do no more for them than prolong their weary existence in the wild for two or three weeks.

Tregelly brought forward more wood from the shelter they had formed; the fire burned more brightly; bacon was frying, and the fragrance of coffee and hot cake was being diffused, when, just as Dallas was thinking of awakening his cousin to the change in their state of affairs, a hoarse cry aroused him and made him look sharply at where, unnoticed, Abel had risen to his knees; and there, in the full light of the fire, he could be seen pointing.

"We're too late, my son," growled Tregelly; "he has seen it. Meant to have covered it before he woke."

"No, no; he is not pointing there."

"Look! Look!" cried Abel.

"Poor lad, he's off his head," whispered Tregelly.

"Do you hear me, you two?" cried Abel hoarsely. "Look! Can't you see?"

"What is it, Bel?" said Dallas soothingly, as he stepped round to the other side of the fire; and then, following the direction of his cousin's pointing finger, he too uttered a wild cry, which brought Tregelly to their side, to gaze in speechless astonishment at the sight before them.

For the thick glazing of ice had been melted from the perpendicular wall of rock at the back of their fire, and there, glistening and sparkling in the face of the cliff, were veins, nuggets, and time-worn fragments of rich red gold in such profusion, that, far up as they could see, the cliff seemed to be one mass of gold-bearing rock, richer than their wildest imagination had ever painted.

The effect upon the adventurers was as strange as it was marked.

Abel bowed down his face in his hands to hide its spasmodic contractions; while Dallas rose, stepped slowly towards it, and reached over the glowing flame to touch a projecting nugget—bright, glowing in hue, and quite warm from the reflection of the fire.

"Ah!" he sighed softly, as if convinced at last; "it is real, and not a dream."

Tregelly turned his back, began to whistle softly an old tune in a minor key, and drew the coffee, the bacon pan, and the bread a little farther away.

"Ahoy there, my sons!" he cried cheerily; "breakfast! Fellows must eat even if they are millionaires."

It was too much for Dallas, before whose eyes was rising, not the gold, for he seemed to be looking right through that, but the wistful, deeply-lined face of a grey-haired woman at a window, watching ever for the lost ones' return.

At Tregelly's words he burst into a strangely harsh, hysterical laugh, and then, too, he sank upon his knees and buried his face in his hands, remaining there motionless till a hand was laid upon his shoulder, and he started to find it was Abel who was gazing in his eyes.

"Dal," he cried, in a voice that did not sound like his own, "we shall pay the old uncle now."

At that moment the dismal tune Tregelly was whistling came to an end, and they saw that he was sitting with his back to them, looking straight away.

They stepped quickly to his side, and he started up to hold a hand to each.

"To win or to die, didn't you say, my sons?" he cried cheerily.

"Yes, something like that," replied Dallas huskily.

"Well, it means winning, my sons," cried Tregelly, "for we won't die now."



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

SHOWING HOW GOOD CAME OUT OF EVIL.

The store of provisions proved on examination to be far greater than had been anticipated, and it seemed plain enough that their enemy had, while seeking a place of refuge from which he might carry on his nefarious career, hit accidentally upon the greatest discovery of gold that had been made; and after decently disposing of his remains, the three adventurers began to examine with something approaching breathless awe the vast treasure that they could claim as theirs.

The first thing to be done, though, was to make use of their axes and contrive a shelter right in the centre of the patch of dwarf pine, their plan being to hack out the size of the hut they intended to make in the dense scrub, saving everything approaching to a straight pole to use for roofing.

They worked well, for the discovery of the gold and a fair supply of provisions seemed to send new life into them; and before many hours had passed they were provided with shelter for themselves and their stores.

Their next step was to mark out and peg what was legally allowed to each man as discoverer of a new field's claim. And now, in spite of the lateness of the season and their height up in the mountains, it seemed as if fate had ceased to persecute them and was ready to help them make the treasure they had found safely their own.

It was too late to expect to do much before the winter closed in with its inclement darkness, so the energies of all were devoted to making the most of the glorious spell of fine weather which now ensued, and preparing for the winter.

"We've found it; and after it has been lying here ever since the world began," said Tregelly, "it isn't likely to fly away now, and nobody's going to take it away from us. First thing is, have we got as much on our claim as ever we're likely to want?"

"More," said Dallas; "and I propose that one of us goes down to the old spot to give the news to Norton and our old friends, that they may come and be the first to take up claims."

"That is what I meant to propose," said Abel.

"Good nails driven in, and I clinch them," said Tregelly. "Only look here: I always like to do a good turn to a man who means well."

"Of course," said Dallas; "but what do you mean?"

"There's that judge. I think he ought to have a pull out of this, too. He nearly hung us up on a tree, but he meant well, and it was all for law and order. What I propose is this. We'll make our own claims sure, and get our friends up to secure theirs; and then let's tell the judge, and he'll come up with a picked lot to keep all right."

"Excellent," said Dallas. "But who goes down first to see about stores?"

"I will, my sons. I'm strongest, and as to bringing up plenty, I shall have plenty ready to help. But I say, play fair; you won't run away with my third while I'm gone?"

Tregelly started down the ravine in company with Scruff the very next day, and many more had not elapsed before he was back with the whole party from their old workings, eager to congratulate the fortunate discoverers and place ample stores at their service.

They had just time to get up another supply, enough for the coming winter, before it seemed to sweep down like a black veil from the northern mountains.

But building does not take long under such circumstances. Wood had been brought up from out of a valley a few miles lower down, and in the shelter of a dense patch of scrub pine in a side gully, where the new-comers found the gold promising to their hearts' content, they were ready to defy the keenest weather that might come.

Two years had elapsed, and winter was once more expected, for the days were shortening fast, when three men sat together in their humble hut, discussing the question of going home; and the thought of once more meeting one whose last letter had told of her longings to see her boys again, brought a flush to the young men's cheeks and a bright light to their eyes.

They had been talking long and loudly, those two, while Tregelly had sat smoking his pipe and saying nothing, till Dallas turned to him sharply.

"Say something, my son?" the big fellow cried. "Of course I will. Here it is. I've been thinking of all that gold we've sent safely home through the banks, and I've been thinking of what our claim's worth, and what that there company's willing to give."

"Well," said Abel, "go on."

"Give a man time, my son. I warn't brought up to the law. What I was thinking is this: we three working chaps in our shabby clothes are rich men as we stand now."

"Very," said Dallas.

"And if we were to sell our claim now we should be very, very rich."

"Very—very—very rich," said Abel, laughing as a man laughs who is in high spirits produced by vigorous health.

"Well, go on," said Dallas.

"Here it is, then: what's the good of our going grubbing on just to be able to say we're richer still? 'Enough's as good as a feast,' so what's the good of being greedy? Why not let some one else have a turn, and let's all go home?"

"What do you say, Bel?"

"Ay! And you, Dal?"

"Ay!"

"The 'Ays' have it, then," cried Tregelly.

"Well done, my sons. Hooroar! We're homeward bou-wou-wound!" he roared in his big bass voice. "Hooroar! We're homeward bound!"

Business matters are settled quickly in a goldfield, and the next day it was known in the now crowded ravine, where every inch of ground was taken up, that the big company of which the judge was the head had bought the three adventurers' claim, known far and near as Redbeard's, for a tremendous sum. But all the same, heads were shaken by the wise ones of the settlement, who one and all agreed that the company had got it cheap, and they wished that they had had the chance.

"You're one of the buyers, aren't you, Norton, and your lot who came up first are the rest?"

"That's right," said Norton, smiling. "Hah!" said the man. "Kissing goes by favour."

"Of course," said Norton. "But then, you see, we were all old friends."

"We said it was to win or to die, Bel," said Dallas one day, when all business was satisfactorily settled and they were really, as Tregelly had sung, homeward bound.

"Yes," said Abel quietly, "and it all seems like a dream."

"But it's a mighty, weighty, solid, golden sort o' dream, my son," said the big Cornishman, "and there's no mistake about it, you've won. I say, though, I'm glad we're taking the dog."

THE END.