Frank Allen at Gold Fork; or, Locating the lost claimForbes, Graham B.
General
Frank Allen at Gold Fork; or, Locating the lost claim
Forbes, Graham B.
Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction
"Get a fresh grip on yourself, Lanky!" was all the other could say to
comfort the shivering one, for Frank was far from feeling confident as
to the outcome of their new and dreadful adventure.
"It's coming again, Frank!" shrieked Lanky a short time afterwards, as
once more the side of the mountain commenced to tremble under their
feet.
"Seems so," Frank, between stiff lips. "Keep a grip on yourself, Lanky.
It will pass. I guess we'll pull through all right."
There is nothing more apt to carry a feeling of panic to the human
heart than to feel the solid earth, which all his life he had deemed
staple, quiver and writhe as if in agony. Small wonder then that
stout-hearted Lanky Wallace found himself gripped with increasing fear.
Frank caught hold of his chum's arm. He knew that the touch of
reassuring fingers was more apt to steady Lanky than any cheering words
he might utter. Besides, talking under such appalling conditions was
anything but an easy thing.
This second tremor also passed off, and again the two young
prospectors found themselves safe. Lanky began to recover a part of his
customary assurance.
"If only that's the wind-up of these slides, then everything'll look
bright again," he called out. "Oh, Frank, there sure is a break in
those black clouds nearly overhead, for I caught a glimpse of sunlight!"
"Yes, that's so," replied his chum, and then adding hurriedly: "Hold
tight, Lanky, for here's where we get ours!"
The grinding noise came on once more, closer, more dreadful than ever,
and the boys reeled like drunken men and held their breath with awe.
Wildly did the side of the great mountain, home of slides, tremble
and writhe. Above them the lads could hear the deafening noise of the
oncoming mass of dislodged material, rushing down to find rest far
below amidst the remnants of former similar catastrophes.
It seemed as though all creation must be in eruption, with massive
rocks piling over each other and racing down the slide.
Lanky, completely overcome, fell down on his hands and knees as though
exhausted and hopeless. For an indefinite space of time he felt himself
moving, at first swiftly downward, then with diminished speed.
Then things came to an abrupt stop--and he was still alive!
The movement of the slipping mountain had ceased as suddenly as it had
begun. Even the wild howling wind had discontinued, as though the wand
of some magician had subdued its fierce clamor.
CHAPTER XXI
IN LUCK AGAIN
"Frank! Oh, Frank!"
No longer did Lanky feel that sickening sensation in the pit of his
stomach at having the solid ground underfoot heaving and grumbling. So,
almost unconsciously, he had shrieked out that one word--the name of
his faithful chum, on whose arm he had come to lean as though it were
indeed a tower of strength.
"I'm here close by you, Lanky!" he heard.
"But you're not badly hurt, I hope, Frank?" burst out the other, a new
anxiety discernible in his quavering voice.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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