Lost in the Cañon The Story of Sam Willett's Adventures on the Great Colorado of the West — Edition Insights

The sun in all his course does not look down on a wilder, grander or more desolate land than that which met the gaze of the young hunters, no matter to which side they turned.

Verdureless mountains of fantastic shapes rose into the cloudless sky on every hand.

Here and there in the crevices of the black volcanic rocks, over which they hurried, a stunted sagebush or a dwarf cactus suggested the awful barrenness of the place rather than told of vegetation.

They were in the land of cañons and drought, on the summit of the Great American Plateau where rain but seldom falls, where the streams flow through frightful gorges, and where men and animals have often perished from thirst within sight of waters which they could not reach.

Bleak and sublime as the land was, is, and ever must be, yet the belief—a well founded belief by the way—that its gloomy ravines contained gold, led hundreds of hardy miners and adventurers to look upon it as that El Dorado for which the early Spanish explorers in these wilds had sought in vain.

As the leader of the little party, Sam Willett, strode ahead, the deepening shadows of the mountains impelled him each instant to a quicker pace.

There was no apparent trail, yet Sam never hesitated in his course, but kept on as unerringly as a bird of passage, till he came to a great black rift that seemed to suddenly open at his feet.

Away down in the shadowy depths he could see a white band that told of moving water.

A glow, the source of which could not be seen, indicated a fire down near the base of the cliff, and the barking of a dog—the sound appeared to come from the depths of a cave—suggested a human habitation.

On reaching the crest of the chasm Sam Willett did not hesitate, but at once plunged down to what, to a stranger, would appear certain death.

Along the cañon wall there was a steep but well constructed trail that afforded secure footing to a traveler who was not troubled with giddiness.

Without once stopping, Sam and his companions made their way to the bottom of the rift and forded the roaring torrent that thundered over its uneven bed.

On the cañon wall, opposite to that by which they had descended, they saw about a hundred feet above the stream, what seemed like a number of illuminated pigeon holes. This was their home, the place to which had been given the not inappropriate name of "Gold Cave Camp."

With barks of delight, a big dog met them near the water and joyously escorted them up the other side to an irregular plateau, about a hundred feet in diameter, that shot out like the once famous Table Rock at Niagara.

This plateau was in front of the cave, in which the miners had made their home.

The background of light revealed the forms of three men. The dress and long cue of one bespoke him a Chinaman, the second was dressed like a hunter, and the third, a tall, powerful figure, had only his heavy beard and striking stature to distinguish him.

"Is that you, Sam?" called out the tall man, as the foremost of the party reached the plateau.

"Yes, father," was the reply, "and we have brought back some meat."

"Wa’ll!" exclaimed the second man, "I didn’t think thar was a pound of live meat left within twenty mile of yar."

"Hoolay! Bully! Now me gettee suppel!" cried the excited Chinaman, who was known by the fitting name of Wah Shin.

Preceded by Maj, the dog, Sam and his fellow hunters entered the remarkable cave—of which we shall speak hereafter—and laid the meat on the floor.

"I began to grow uneasy about you, my boy," said Mr. Willett, as he fondly kissed his son, "meat is very desirable, but I would rather suffer for it than be worried at your absence."

Sam explained about the delay in the hunt, and then went to a spring that rose from the floor of the cave close to the fire, and here he set the example of drinking and washing himself.

Meanwhile Wah Shin began to demonstrate his position in that strangely mixed company. In nearly no time he had steaks broiling on the coals, the savory odor of which made Hank Tims, the old guide, take long inhalations with great enjoyment.

Apart from meat there was an abundance of other food in this strange camp, so that in a very short time Wah Shin, with Ike’s aid, had a most excellent supper spread on a table consisting of two roughly-hewn cedar slabs, supported at either end by a square stationary stone, that had been placed there by the original but unknown cave dwellers.

CHAPTER II.—LOOKING BACKWARD AND FORWARD.

It is not a little remarkable that the six dwellers in Gold Cave Camp should represent four of the five types into which scientists divide the human race, but this though curious in itself, is not nearly so much so as their being residents of this sparsely settled wilderness, and living, as it were, in caves in the depths of the earth.

Mr. Willett had been a merchant in Detroit, Michigan, where his only child, Sam, was born.

He had been very happy in his married life and very prosperous in his business; but, alas, for the stability of human affairs, his wife died. Following this awful calamity came a series of reverses in business which no human foresight could prevent. His property was swept away, and in his fortieth year he found himself a poor man, with a son to educate and care for and all life’s battle to fight over again.

Mr. Willett had been educated as a mining engineer, and though he had never followed his profession he, very naturally, looked to it as a means of support when all his other resources were gone.

In the days of his great distress and perplexity he read of sudden fortunes being made in the newly-discovered gold fields of the San Juan country in Southwestern Colorado, and thither he determined to go.

Although still in the prime of life, Mr. Willett concentrated all the love of his brave heart on his son and resolved to devote his time and thought to his care and education.

Sam’s maternal grandfather, Mr. Shirley, was a very rich, but a very morose and eccentric old man, who chose never to become reconciled to his daughter’s marriage to Mr. Willett. But when Sam’s mother died, the old gentleman offered to adopt his grandson and make him his sole heir, if the father would consent to renounce all claims to him.

In his son’s interest Mr. Willett might have considered this proposal favorably had not Sam himself upset the scheme by saying stoutly:

"Father, do not ask me to leave you, for I feel it would be sending me to death. If you go to the West, I shall go with you. There are only two of us left, why should we be parted?"

Mr. Willett replied to this query by kissing his son, and so it was settled that they should go to the West together.

Ike was an orphan lad who, in some inexplicable way, had drifted up to Michigan from Kentucky. Mr. Willett found and cared for the boy, and he repaid this generosity by a fidelity and devotion worthy of all praise.

Mr. Willett could see no use for Ike in the West, but when the time for departure came, the black boy appeared at the depot with an old hunting bag, containing all his clothing, slung at his back, and a remarkable-looking shot-gun folded in his arms.

"Dar’s no use a talkin’ to me, boss," he said to Mr. Willett, when that gentleman expressed his surprise at the boy’s appearance. "Ize bound to go ’long wid Mistah Sam. Oh, don’t yeh feel skeat ’bout de cash foh de passage. Ize got ebery cent I ever earned stored away har; its more’n fifty dollar, an’ I’ll foot de bills till de las’ red cent’s gone."

In proof of this bold statement, Ike drew from the depths of his trousers’ pockets a bag containing several pounds weight of bronze, nickel and silver coins.

Ike found an eloquent advocate in Sam; and so it came about that at the very last moment Mr. Willett decided to take the colored boy with him, though he could not be made to avail himself of the generous fellow’s hoardings.

The three went to Denver, thence over the Rocky range to St. Luis Park, and over the Sierra Madre mountains to the San Juan country.

They had procured horses to ride on, and two pack mules to carry their supplies and mining tools.

While at Port Garland in the St. Luis Park, they met with Hank Tims and the Ute boy, Ulna, who was a nephew of the great chief Uray, whom the writer of this narrative knew very well and greatly admired.

Hank Tims and Ulna were themselves thinking about going into the San Juan country, and, as they were well acquainted with that region and appeared to take to Mr. Willett’s party at once, they were readily induced to join his expedition.

It would be out of place in this brief but essential review to recount all the adventures that beset our friends till they reached the scene of their proposed labors.

After much wandering, they found Gold Cave Camp, but it was in the possession of a wild, dissolute fellow named Tom Edwards.

As Edwards was working his claim all alone and was eager to leave it, Mr. Willett bought him out at his own price, and at once made preparations to pan for such gold as might be found in the bed of the cañon.

A few days after the commencement of operations, Wah Shin appeared in the camp.

He looked as if he had been blown in from the bleak hills, but he managed to explain in his broken English that he had lost himself coming up from Santa Fe, and that he was a first-class cook.

He asked for "a job," but even before Mr. Willett had made up his mind to hire him, he set to work to give an exhibition of his skill; and the result was so entirely satisfactory that he was retained on his own terms.

But it is much easier to explain the presence of these people than it is to account for the strange home in which they lived.

Learned men claim that long before the coming of the white men to this continent, long, indeed, before the coming of the Indians, that there was a strange race of people in that Western land, whom, for the want of a better name, they call "The Cave Dwellers."

But no matter how formed, or by whom they were first inhabited, these caves—they are quite common in that land—made ready and comfortable homes for the mining adventurers.

Those occupied by Mr. Willett and his associates, consisted of a series of eight apartments, all opening on the plateau and all connected by passage ways that must have been the work of human hands.

The apartments were circular in shape, and the largest, which was used as a kitchen and general store room, was about twenty feet in diameter and ten feet in height.

As before stated there was an ample spring of delicious cool water in this apartment, and the original hewers of the caves, no doubt, selected the place on this account.

After a hearty supper, Mr. Willett and Hank Tims lit their pipes and sat before the fire, for though the days are warm in this land the nights are unusually cool.

Drift wood, picked up from the crevices of the rocks in which it had been lodged by floods caused by the melting of snow in the mountains, constituted the fuel of the camp, and the great pile near the fire showed that it was to be had in abundance.

All had been working hard that day, so after a desultory talk about the great success that was meeting their search for gold, they lay down on their blanket cots in the other apartments and went to sleep—that is, all but Sam and his father.

Mr. Willett and his son slept together in the nearest room, but though they lay down side by side they did not go to sleep at once.

"Sam," said Mr. Willett in a troubled voice, "since you left this morning that fellow, Tom Edwards, has been here again."

"What did he want?" asked Sam.

"He appeared to be drunk, and he threatened to kill me if I did not give him more money."

"But you have paid him the price agreed on?"

"Then I should not heed him."

"Still, I am afraid he will cause me trouble, so, to-morrow, I will ride over to Hurley’s Gulch and consult a lawyer, and as that is our nearest market and post-office, I will take Hank and Ulna along with two pack mules so as to carry back supplies."

"That is forty miles away, so that you will be gone several days. But if you must go, father, I will do the best I can while you are absent," said Sam, laying his hand soothingly on his father’s broad breast.

"I know you will, my boy, but there is another matter I wished to speak with you about."

"What is that, father?"

"Why, this Tom Edwards brought me a letter from your grandfather’s lawyer in Michigan. It tells me that the old man is dead, and that in his will he leaves all his property to you, but you are not to have a cent of it till you are twenty-one years of age——"

"Four years and a half, dear father!" cried the excited Sam.

"But," continued Mr. Willett, "the will further says that if you should die in the meantime that the property is to go to your grandfather’s nephew, Frank Shirley."

"A bad, disreputable man to whom neither you nor mother would speak," said Sam.

"He is all that, I fear, and it troubles me to learn from Edwards that Frank Shirley has recently come into this land," said Mr. Willett.

CHAPTER III.—SAM’S TRIALS BEGIN.

While daylight was flooding the upper world next morning, and the shadows were lifting from the gloomy depths of the cañon, the modern cave dwellers ate their breakfast.

About three hundred yards above the caves the cañon widened out into a valley some three hundred yards in diameter. The bottom of this valley was covered with rich grass, and in it was a grove of cotton-wood trees whose bright verdure gave the place the appearance of a rich emerald gem in a mighty setting of granite.

In this valley the horses and pack mules were kept, and, as they had but little to do, they might be said to "live in clover."

While it was still dusky in these depths, though the glimpses of far-off ruddy mountain peaks told that the sun was rising in the upper world, Sam and Ike, who were hardly ever apart, went up to the valley and soon returned with three horses and two mules, the latter were to carry back the necessary supplies from Hurley’s Gulch.

It had been Mr. Willett’s custom to make this trip once a month, so that his going now was not an unusual event, yet his face showed that he was much dejected, as if he had a premonition of the awful calamity that was so soon to come upon himself and his beloved boy.

His last words, as he kissed Sam, were:

"If anything should happen to detain me longer than four days, I will send a letter back by Ulna."

"But we’ll be back on time," joined in Hank Tims, "for I don’t like crowds, an’, then, we’ve struck pay dirt rich up at the head of the valley, an’ I’m just a spilein’ to see how it’ll pan out to the ind."

Good-bys were said, and Sam, Ike and Wah Shin stood on the plateau before the cave and waved their hats, till the three men had led the animals up the giddy trail and disappeared beyond the towering summit of the cliff.

Under the teaching of his father and Hank Tims, Sam had become a skillful gold miner, that is, so far as panning out the gravel and collecting the gold were concerned.

The fact that he was the prospective heir to a large fortune did not unfit him for work this morning. With Ike he went up to the sluices immediately after his father left, and until the sun was in mid-heaven they worked, shoveling gravel into the cradle and rocking it under the water, and only stopping to pick out the nuggets and yellow dust and scales that rewarded their effort every hour.

By means of an old-fashioned horn, Wah Shin summoned them to dinner. Of the fresh meat he had made pies that would have tempted an invalid’s appetite. And, as the boys ate, sitting before the entrance to the cave, the Chinaman’s face fairly glowed with delight at the evidence of his excellent cooking.

"Ven’zon pie belly good," chuckled Wah Shin, as he produced a second when the first had vanished. "But man eatee too muchee, den get mebbe sick."

"Dat ar edvice is ’tended foh Mistah Sam," laughed Ike, as he helped himself again. "But vanzon pie an’ 'possums are two tings I ain’t nebber got my fill ob up to dis time."

Sam heard but did not heed the talk of his companions, for his attention was at the moment attracted to two strange men who were slowly making their way down the trail on the opposite side of the cañon wall.

As there was danger from prowling bands of Indians who had left the reservation, and also from white outlaws who frequently robbed weak mining camps, every one at Gold Cave Camp strapped on a belt, with a knife and pistols in it, as regularly as he pulled on his boots.

Starting to his feet and followed by Ike, Sam went down to the stream, getting there just as the two men reached the bottom.

One of the strangers was a tall, dark-bearded man, with one eye, and the other was a short, yellow-skinned man with a mean expression of face, whom Sam recognized as his cousin, Frank Shirley.

Sam had never spoken to this man, so he did not greet him like an acquaintance now.

Both men were well armed, as is the fashion of the country, and when they came within hailing distance, Frank Shirley called out:

"Hello, young man, is this Mr. Willett’s camp?"

"It is, sir," was Sam’s reply, as he came to a halt.

"Is Mr. Willett home?"

"He has gone to Hurley’s Gulch."

"Ah, I’m sorry I missed him. When do you expect him back?"

"In a few days. Won’t you come over and have some dinner?" asked Sam, waving his hand in the direction of the plateau, on which Wah Shin was visible.

"Thank you; no. We are going on to Hurley’s Gulch, and are in a great hurry," said Frank Shirley, turning and whispering to his companion, who nodded vigorously in response.

"Who shall I say called?" asked Sam, as the two men turned to ascend the trail.

"Friends," was the laconical reply.

"If dem’s frien’s," said Ike, when the men had gone out of hearing, "den Ize de biggest kind ob a foe."

The conversation of the two men when they reached the top of the cliff proved the black boy’s surmise to be correct.

They had left their horses hitched to a rock, and as they prepared to mount, Frank Shirley said to his companion:

"That’s the boy, Badger."

"The boy ez stan’s atween you an’ fortune?" said Badger.

"Wa’ll, ain’t you hired me to help you clear the way?"

"Good; then let us git rid of the father first, an’ then all the rest’ll be ez smooth ez ile."

"You will stick to your contract?"

"I’d be a fool if I didn’t. You pay expenses an’ give me ten thousand dollars to get ’em out of the way. Isn’t that it?"

"That’s it, Badger," said Frank Shirley, as he mounted and rode along beside his companion.