The Go Ahead Boys and Simon's Mine by Ross Kay

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CHAPTER XI

A PERILOUS FALL

Fortunately the side of the cliff down which George was slipping was not
sheer all the way. It was steep; indeed, so steep that it was impossible
for the frightened boy in spite of his desperate attempts to check his
flight, to gain a foothold. In his descent some of the loose ground gave
way and whenever he tried to seize a small projecting point that too fell
before him.

George was aware that far below him was the valley or bottom of the gulch.
There were possibilities that at any moment he might slide over some cliff
beneath which there was nothing to interfere with his fall to the ground
far below, a descent of at least two hundred feet.

George was amazed at the coolness with which his mind was working. Fully
aware of the peril confronting him, nevertheless he thought calmly of his
companions and the surprise they would experience when his absence was
discovered. If he fell to the bottom of the gulch doubtless they would
never learn the fate which had befallen him.

When he had gone about sixty feet down the cliff-side his progress
abruptly was halted when he came to a heavy projection of rock. Upon this
a stunted tree was growing close to the side of the mountain. Almost
instinctively George grasped this tree and his heart almost ceased to beat
when he found that his progress was effectively stopped. His first fear
was that the projection might give way under the force with which he had
struck it. For a moment he simply clung to the trunk of the tree and
closed his eyes waiting for the crash to come.

When several moments had elapsed and he found that he was still safe he
opened his eyes and looked all about him. Above him he could see the marks
that indicated the trail he had followed in his descent. It was, however,
almost impossible for him to retrace his way. He was now painfully aware
that he had severely bruised his left leg in his fall. Otherwise he was
not seriously hurt as far as he was able to ascertain. It would be
difficult, if not entirely impossible for him, in the condition in which
he now found himself, to make his way up the sloping side of the cliff,
while to slip or fall would be fatal.

Rejoicing at his narrow escape George seated himself with his back
against the side of the mountain as far as it was possible for him to move
along the edge of the rocky shelf. His first feeling of rejoicing at his
narrow escape soon gave way to anxiety. He had been so far behind Zeke
when he had fallen that he was doubtful now that his absence would be
discovered until Grant and the guide had gone a considerable distance
ahead. And when his disappearance should be discovered his companions
would have no knowledge where to begin their search.

Keenly excited, he shouted in his loudest tones, "Grant! Grant!"

Not even an echo greeted his prolonged appeal. He shouted again and again,
but it soon was plain to him that he had not made himself heard.

Thoroughly alarmed now he was almost ready to attempt the perilous ascent,
having decided that it was better for him to do so while he was still
strong and before his leg should become helpless.

A glance toward the border of the cliff, however, was terrifying. So high
was it above the gulch below that his peril was great.

Almost in an agony of fear he renewed his shouts and though he waited
anxiously after every appeal there was no answer to his calls.

It was impossible for him to estimate the time that was passing. The
slowly moving minutes seemed to the Go Ahead Boy almost like hours. There
were moments when it seemed to the terrified boy that he must let go his
hold upon his insecure protection. He had passed his left arm around the
trunk of the small tree and it was not difficult for him to maintain his
position.

Again he renewed his frantic appeals, the thought having come to him that
Grant and the guide might retrace their way and at some place hear his
calls for help.

As a matter of fact less than an hour had elapsed when at last George was
startled by the sound of a voice directly above him. Peering over the
border was a face which he soon discovered was that of Thomas Jefferson,
the young Navajo Indian who with his companion had previously come to
their camp. Plainly the young Indian had heard the cry and was striving to
discover the source from which it had come.

Once more George shouted, this time almost hoarse from his efforts. An
answering call, however, revealed the fact that the Navajo had discovered
him. Indeed it was possible now for him to hear the words of the Indian.

"Stay right where you are," called Thomas Jefferson. "Don't try to do
anything for yourself."

The face disappeared from the border of the cliff and anxiously George
waited to discover what means would be used for his rescue. That he would
be left in his predicament he was convinced was not to be thought of.

Nevertheless the anxious boy became troubled when a time that seemed to
him inordinately long passed and still no word was heard from above him.
Almost frantic he was about to renew his shouts when he discovered the
Navajo crawling over the edge and slowly and cautiously descending the
sloping side of the cliff.

Almost fascinated by the sight George watched every movement. The
moccasin-clad feet of the Navajo did not once fail to find a secure hold.
Almost like the rattler which had been killed that morning he crawled and
squirmed, steadily making his way toward the place where George was
awaiting his coming.

Abruptly a new fear seized upon the Go Ahead Boy. If Thomas Jefferson
should succeed in gaining the place where he was awaiting his coming,
would the shelf be sufficiently strong to support the weight of both? The
suggestion was alarming and the perspiration stood out on George's
forehead as he thought of the new danger.

He was aware now that under the shoulders of the Navajo there was a lariat
made fast and that this was being paid out from above as he slowly
descended.

It was evident now that Thomas Jefferson's companion was above the gulch
and that he was assisting in the descent of his companion.

In the nervous condition in which George now found himself a thousand new
fears possessed him. Perhaps the lariat would not be long enough. As
Thomas Jefferson proceeded, his foot might slip and his entire weight be
thrown upon the slender rope or strap. Even if the Indian should succeed
in attaining the shelf where George was standing, would the slender strip
of leather be strong enough to support the weight of both?

Meanwhile, as if he were devoid of all fear, the young Navajo slowly and
steadily continued his descent. He was not more than fifteen feet from the
boy whom he was seeking to rescue, when, with his foot braced against a
small projection and the lariat clasped tightly in his hands, he paused as
he said, "Don't be scared. Just keep hold of that tree and you'll be all
right."

As soon as he had spoken, the descent was renewed and in a brief time the
Navajo had taken his place beside George.

"Look out!" warned George, his voice trembling as he spoke. "I'm afraid
this tree isn't strong enough to hold both of us. I don't think the shelf
is, either."

The peril was so great and the fear of George so keen that for a moment he
trembled violently. The Navajo, however, quickly passed his arm under that
of the trembling boy and said soothingly, "There's no need to be scared.
This place is plenty strong to hold us both. Just be careful and do what I
say."

As he spoke Thomas Jefferson removed the noose from beneath his arms and
placed it under the arms of the frightened boy.

"You get hold," he explained.

"I'm afraid I can't help very much," said George. "I've hurt my leg."

The Indian made a hasty examination and then shaking his head said, "Not
much hurt. You can climb all right."

"When shall we start?" demanded George.

"As soon as you're ready."

"I'm more ready now than I shall be later, I suspect," said George
ruefully. "It's the only thing to be done, and, if it is, why, the sooner
I begin it the better."

Carefully George turned and lying against the ground looked up at the
border of the cliff. "Is the rope strong enough to hold us both?" he
asked, turning again to the Indian.

"Plenty strong," replied Thomas Jefferson. "I shall not take hold. You'll
have it all."

"How then will you get up there?" demanded George, aghast at the
suggestion.

"I shall climb. It's not new work for me. I shall be close behind you so
that if you fall I may help."

"If I fall or the lariat breaks," declared George, "there will be no
stopping me. Both of us will go straight to the bottom of the gulch."

"Look up all the time," suggested the Indian. "Don't once look behind you.
You need not fear for me for I have no fear for myself. Besides Kitoni is
very strong. He has taken a purchase around a tree and the rope cannot
slip. You are perfectly safe."

"Shall I try to climb by using the rope or shall I dig in my fingers and
toes and try that way?"

"Don't pull on the rope too much," answered the Navajo. "There will be
places where you may have to do that. It will be safe to do so for Kitoni
will take in all slack, but it will be better if you try to climb."

"Here goes then," said George in a low voice as he turned and began the
perilous ascent.

CHAPTER XII

A WRECK

John was an expert swimmer but his skill was not of much avail when he
plunged headlong into the rushing waters of the Colorado. The boat was
moving swiftly when he met with his accident and it was impossible for the
Go Ahead Boy to retrace his course and swim directly toward the shore.

The horror of Fred and Pete when they saw the long legs of John just
disappearing beneath the surface of the river may well be imagined. It was
impossible for them to check the speed of the boat and equally impossible
to change its course. Almost as helpless as if it had been a chip it was
carried forward by the swift current.

"He's going faster than we are," said Fred in a low voice as he discovered
the head of his friend several yards in advance of the skiff.

"Then he must be swimming," said Pete. "Is he a good swimmer?"

"I never saw a better," replied Fred, not once turning away his eyes from
the sight of John. "He has the Australian crawl and all the fancy
strokes."

"I don't know nothin' about them crawls," answered Pete, "but he's
swimmin' like a duck. He'll reach that point below us long before we get
there."

The guide's surmise was correct for John was exerting himself strongly to
gain a low point which he had seen in the distance and around which the
swift waters of the current were swept forward.

Before the conversation in the boat was renewed both the guide and Fred
were aware that John had succeeded in his attempt.

He had gained the low lying shore, but in his efforts to rise, although
the water where he was standing did not come above his waist, he several
times was thrown back into the stream and once nearly lost his foothold.

However, at last the sturdy lad succeeded in gaining the shore. As soon as
he had shaken the water from his head he turned to look in the direction
from which the skiff was coming. The boat now was not more than one
hundred feet away.

"Come in here! Stop here!" shouted John in his loudest tones.

Whether or not his words were heard he saw that his friends were doing
their utmost to follow his directions. Still borne onward by the rushing
current they nevertheless succeeded in gaining the outer edge and when the
sharp bend around the point was made they came sufficiently near the shore
to enable Pete with the painter in his hand to leap into the shallow
water.

Although the guide braced himself strongly and exerted all his strength,
his attempt would have failed, if John, instantly aware of the predicament
of his companion, had not leaped to his aid. While Pete was struggling and
striving to regain a firm standing John seized the painter and as he was
braced for the sudden strain he succeeded in checking the speed of the
boat and drawing it within the more sheltered waters of the little bay.

Meanwhile Pete had succeeded in grasping the gunwale of the skiff and
promptly shouted, "Run her up on the beach, boys! One, two, three! Now
then, all together!"

By their united efforts they succeeded in bringing the boat up on the
shore to a place where it was not in danger of being swept away by the
swiftly flowing river.

"That's what I call a close call," exclaimed Fred with a sigh of relief,
when at last he was certain not only that his friend was safe but that
all the cargo and the skiff itself had been landed. "What happened to
you?" he inquired of John.

"I didn't have time to find out very much," replied John demurely. "I lost
my balance and the first thing I knew I was making as graceful a dive as
ever you saw. I went up like a rocket."

"You looked very much like a rocket," sniffed Pete. "We saw your long legs
hanging down and thought that something must have pulled you out of the
boat."

"Something did," replied John dryly.

"What was it?" demanded Pete.

"The force of gravitation. I had all I could do to make this shore, let me
tell you. I had on sneakers and I put in my best work, for I wanted to get
on this side of the channel. At first I thought I was not going to make it
but I did at last and here I am."

"Are you hurt any?" asked Fred.

"Hurt? No. I'm as sound as I was when we started."

"You may be as sound," laughed Fred, relieved now by the assurance that
John was not injured, "but you're a woe-be-gone looking specimen. I think
even you would laugh, String, if you could see yourself. You're like the
definition of a line that Mr. Strong gave us in mathematics. You're the
shortest distance between two points, a length without breadth or
thickness."

"I've heard those words before," said John sharply. "I wish somebody could
get up something new if he wants to make remarks concerning my physique.
I'm not the one to blame if it doesn't suit you."

"Nobody blames you, Johnnie," laughed Fred. "We're just trying to face the
cold facts."

"That's what I'm trying to do too," said John demurely. "I had in my
pocket a copy we made, or at least what we thought was a copy, of the
records from old Simon Moultrie's diary and they are gone now."

"Are you sure?" asked Fred, startled by the unexpected statement.

"Yes, I'm sure," replied John, turning the pockets inside out as he spoke.
"I put them right in here," he explained as he placed his hand upon one
pocket.

"I guess there won't be a great deal of harm done," spoke up Pete. "It was
all done from memory anyway, at least that's what I understood you to
say."

"That's right, it was," said John, "but if you have a piece of paper in
your pocket, Fred let me have it and I'll write it out again. I'll do it
now. It will be easier and safer to fix it up before we start than it
will to let it all get dim in our minds."

Accordingly John took the diary which Fred handed him and tearing a leaf
from the back of it at once proceeded to draw from memory an outline of
the picture in Simon Moultrie's diary. To this he added the puzzling
directions which they had found indicated near the stake. "I think we're
all right," he said with satisfaction as he glanced at the drawing he had
made.

"There's one thing about it," said Pete, "it won't do no harm. Now then,
if you're rested, I think we'd better start on, only I think I'll chain
your long legs to the boat so that if you decide to leave us the way you
did before, we can haul you in the same as we would an anchor."

"You won't have to haul me in," retorted John. "I'm going to stay by you
this time."

"See that you do," said Pete sharply.

In a brief time the boat had been pushed out once more into the stream and
again the three passengers with their poles had taken their stations and
were prepared to do their utmost to guide the course down the river.

For a considerable distance the waters were not so turbulent as they had
been farther up the stream. Occasional rocks were passed and several times
the points rising almost to the surface of the river were discovered.
However, the current was so strong that it carried the boat safely around
the threatening danger, and almost with the speed of a race horse the
little party again turned down the stream.

It was not long before the spot which Pete had declared was to be their
landing-place was seen before them. Here there was no great difficulty in
gaining the shore and in a brief time the three passengers and the skiff
were safely on the bank.

"What shall we do with the skiff?" inquired John after the cargo had been
unloaded.

"We'll leave it here and let some one else take it up the stream or use it
if he goes down. I think it will carry clear to the Gulf of California if
he wants to try it."

"How about that map, String?" demanded Fred as he turned again to his tall
companion.

"Right in my pocket," declared John promptly, "and dry too. I told you I
was not going overboard this time, and I kept my promise, didn't I?"

"You certainly did," laughed Fred. "Now, then, what are we to do next?" he
added, turning to the guide as he spoke.

Pete, however, did not reply. He had advanced several yards up the shore
and was drawing from the loose soil several pieces that evidently were
parts of a boat that had been wrecked.

"Do you see those?" he inquired, holding up some of the parts he had
found.

"Yes," answered Fred. "It looks as if a boat had been wrecked down here,
doesn't it?"

"It was 'wrecked' all right," answered Pete, "but I'm wondering if either
of you boys knows what boat it was?"

"What boat was it?" inquired John, advancing to the place where the guide
was standing.

"It's our lost skiff," replied Pete.

"What!"

"It's just as I'm tellin' you," Pete repeated. "That skiff we lost the
other night didn't get loose. It was taken by somebody who knew what he
was doing and brought down here. Here's where the party landed," he added,
as he pointed to the shore. "But the boat wasn't 'wrecked,' unless you
call smashing it wrecking it."

"What do you mean? How do you know?" demanded Fred in keen excitement.

"I know because I can see with both eyes," replied Pete sharply. "I don't
have to have it all written out for me when I see what's happened to that
boat."

"Why should anybody want to wreck it?" inquired Fred.

"It might be safer for some people if they started down the stream from
here not to have any boats around that could follow."

"Do you think those two men who were in our camp took the boat?" Fred
inquired abruptly.

"That's exactly what I think. And I think too," the guide added as he
stopped to examine other parts of the boat, "that this skiff was wrecked
as well as smashed. There's a hole stove in the bottom and then there are
places that have been cut by an axe so I guess both parts of the story are
true."

"Do you suppose they went up Thorn's Gulch from here?" asked Fred in a low
voice.

"That's just what I think they did," replied Pete.

"Do you think we may meet them somewhere in the Gulch?"

"I shouldn't be a bit surprised."

"Then we may have pretty serious trouble before we're done."

"Right you are," assented Pete. "But it's time for us to be moving, boys,"
he added. "Here, I'll help each of you with his pack and we'll start out.
If those two men are ahead of us we'll know it before they know that we're
following them."

CHAPTER XIII

ALONE IN THE CANYON

For a considerable distance the way along which the guide was leading was
not difficult. The footing was fairly strong and there were not many
obstacles to be met.

Both boys in spite of the exciting experiences of the morning were deeply
interested in the marvelous sights which greeted them as they advanced
into the gulch.

On the sides of the canyon layers of rock and earth of different colors
were plainly to be seen. Occasionally there were strange formations that
extended from the rim of the cliff to the bottom of the valley that were
like huge buttresses fashioned by the hands of men.

"Look at that!" exclaimed Fred, calling the attention of John to one of
these peculiar formations. "That looks exactly as if it had been cut out
by a mason."

"It certainly does," acknowledged John, stopping and gazing at the
interesting sight. "Indeed, if we had this place back east," he continued,
"it would not be difficult to make some people believe that it had been
especially designed so that they could charge a dime a head to come in to
see it. What do you suppose Coney Island would do with the Grand Canyon?"

"I guess Coney Island, if it had the Grand Canyon, would hide in some
little corner. You wouldn't see much of the Island in a place like that."

Pete was not leading his young charges at a rapid pace. In spite of the
fact that they were at the bottom of the gulch the altitude was still so
high that breathing was somewhat difficult.

They steadily continued on their way for two hours, making only occasional
stops. Then they halted for the midday rest and the preparation of the
luncheon which Pete at once began to get ready.

The fire was kindled under the lea of a projecting shelf of rock and soon
the odor of broiling bacon appealed strongly to the Go Ahead Boys, whose
appetites already needed no stimulant.

"This is the life!" exclaimed John a few minutes later when he and Fred
were seated on rocks under the shade of the over-hanging cliffs.

John was holding a strip of broiled bacon on the end of the stick which he
grasped in one hand, while with the other he was holding a huge piece of
johnny-cake, in the making of which Pete was an expert.

"We couldn't find anything better than this," responded Fred, "even after
we have dug out our mine. I wonder what we'll do with all the money we'll
get."

"I know what I shall do with mine," laughed John.

"What?"

"Spend it in carfare coming out to the Colorado River. I would like
nothing better than to start in where the Green and Grand Rivers join and
try to do what Major Powell did. Indeed, I would like to go clear through
to the lower part of the Gulf of California."

"You don't want very much, do you?" laughed Fred.

"Not very much," retorted John. "This simple life appeals to me all
right."

"You certainly looked simple this morning when you disappeared in the
river."

"You mean I looked simple _before_ I disappeared," retorted John. "I don't
know what I can do to make you more careful in your use of the English
language. You certainly did not see me _after_ I disappeared."

"We certainly did," retorted Fred. "I saw your head away down the stream
though your feet weren't very far in front of the boat. You were going
like mad."

"I don't deserve any credit for that," laughed John as he extended his
stick for more bacon.

"Did you notice how many branches there are to this gulch?" inquired John
as he resumed his repast. "I've counted four or five canyons that open
into the right side of this gulch and I guess there are as many on the
other side although I can't see."

"Yes, it's all broken up," acknowledged Fred as he looked in the direction
indicated by his companion. "It's a mighty interesting place."

"That's no news," laughed John. "Where are you going?"

Fred had arisen and throwing his gun over his shoulder he had started
toward one of the canyons that opened on the opposite side of the great
gulch.

"Where are you going?" called out Pete sharply as he discovered the action
of the Go Ahead Boy.

"Not very far," replied Fred.

"You had better not," warned Pete. "Look out for snakes."

Fred stopped abruptly at the reference to the reptiles, but as John
laughed loudly he decided to continue on his way. "Come along, Jack," Fred
called.

"Nay verily, not so. I've had all the hike I want to-day."

Fred laughed and made no further response. Without waiting for his friend
to join him he turned into the canyon and in a few minutes was unable to
see the camping place which he had left behind him.

Fred, who had a keen eye for color, was examining the marvelous shades
that were to be seen along the sides of the canyon. Rock and soil were
clearly distinguished and the comparison which John had made the preceding
day, when he had said that the sides of the canyon looked like a great
piece of layer-cake, caused Fred to smile at the recollection.

He stopped abruptly when for a moment he fancied he saw a huge living
creature behind a sage bush a few yards before him. Pete had related many
stories of the savage mountain lion and the peril of encounters which he
had with the savage beasts. Since he had started, the fiercest animal Fred
had seen had been the noisy little coyote. After night fall the sly,
little beasts often came within sound of the camp and their weird barks or
cries made the silence of the night appear even more intense. Of bears
Fred had not seen one. Pete had related the story of the fate which had
befallen a friend of his who, making his way through the forest one day
had jumped upon a log which appeared in his pathway and without any delay
then had leaped down upon the ground before him. The "ground" however, had
proved to be a she-bear with her two cubs nearby. "They found only the
bones of poor Jim Hyde," Pete had remarked at the end of the story.

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