Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the Mountains — John Shaqi
Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the MountainsWebster, Frank V.
General
Two Boy Gold Miners; Or, Lost in the Mountains
Webster, Frank V.
Gold -- Juvenile fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Juvenile fiction; Mountains -- Juvenile fiction; Western stories
Hardly had he spoken when, with a terrific crash, lightning struck a
tree not far away. The shock stunned the travelers for a few seconds.
"We're safer in the open," said Mr. Hurd. "We'd better get out of this
grove," and he moved out of the shelter of the clump of trees where the
camp had been pitched.
The rain then seemed to come down harder than ever. It wet them through,
and the rubber blankets, which they grabbed up from the wreck of the
lean-to, afforded small protection from the pelting downpour.
"I guess you wish you were back in the snug farmhouse, don't you, boys?"
called Mr. Harrison above the roar of the storm.
"I do," replied Will, frankly.
"Oh, I can stand it," answered Jed. "We may get worse than this."
"That's right, my boy," added Mr. Curtin. "This is a bad storm, but
there's lots of worse things in the gold fields where you're going. Bad
men are worse than bad storms."
"Right you are," murmured Gabe. "But if I'm not mistaken, this seems to
be letting up a bit."
The rain did not appear to be coming down quite so hard, and there were
longer pauses between the flashes of lightning. But if the storm did
cease in its violence, it did not stop altogether, for it rained all
night, and, though the travelers did manage to make a rude sort of
shelter of the blankets, they spent several miserable hours until
morning.
"Oh, for some hot coffee and crisp bacon!" exclaimed Will, as he crawled
out from under his blanket, and surveyed the wet scene all about. "It
wouldn't be so bad then."
"Hot coffee! Crisp bacon!" exclaimed Gabe. "Say, young man, you ought to
be glad the sun is shining. There'll be no hot coffee this morning.
Wood's too wet to make a fire. Cold grub for ours, until noon, when we
may strike a place where we can get some dry tinder. But the sun will
soon make our clothes look less as if we'd paid a visit to the
washwoman. Up, everybody, and straighten out camp!"
No one cared to linger in the wet blankets, and though it was not a very
cheerful company that gathered around to eat a cold breakfast, they all
felt that matters might have been much worse.
The packs were soon strapped on the horses, and, mounting their steeds,
the travelers set off again. On every side were evidences of the storm.
The river they had crossed was swollen to twice its former size, and
they were glad that they had forded it the previous evening, instead of
delaying, as they would have been held up several days waiting for the
flood to subside.
That noon they arrived at a settler's cabin, where they were made
welcome, and glad enough they were of it, too, for they were doubtful
about finding any dry wood to make a fire, and had the prospect of a
cold dinner before them. The settler, who had a small sheep ranch,
greeted them cordially, and set out before them the best that he had.
However, hot coffee was the most desirable thing he could provide.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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