Sam Steele's Adventures on Land and Sea

Chapter VIII

The sun had now arisen and flooded the scene with its glorious rays. We were given some of the coffee and a scant allowance of food for our breakfast, the care with which the latter was doled out being evidence that our captors did not know that the “Flipper” was loaded down with provisions.

As soon as the meal was concluded we all gathered around the Major’s hut again, and he began to make us an address.

“At the conference held last evening,” he began, in his smooth tone, “we decided to allow you to choose your own fate. It is death on the one hand, and life as our paid employees on the other. What do you say?”

“We’d like to know, sir,” said Uncle Naboth, “what you are doing on this island?”

“Washing gold.”

“Gold!”

“To be sure,” said the Major. “Are you so ignorant that you cannot see that these sands upon which you are standing are wonderfully rich in gold?”

“Why, I hadn’t noticed,” said my uncle, and then we all curiously stared at the bright billows of sand that filled the beach on both sides of the inlet.

“It will do no harm to explain to you how we came here, and what we are doing,” said the Major. “It will help you to make your decision.”

“Seems like a queer place to look for gold,” said Uncle Naboth, reflectively. “But even then I can’t see why you’ve treated us like you have, or why you’re so blamed secret about the thing.”

“Can’t you?” was the reply. “Then I must jog your reason with a few sensible suggestions. Every gold field yet discovered has been a magnet to draw men from every part of the civilized world. The result has been that the first discoverers seldom profit to any extent, while the horde they draw around them get the lion’s share. That has been our experience time and time again, for every member of our band is an experienced miner. We’ve been crowded from Colorado to Idaho, from Idaho to California, from California to the Black Hills, and back again. Finally we got word of a rich find of gold in Alaska; so, banding together, we chartered an old ship and started for the Yukon. On the way we encountered a gale that blew us to this island. We don’t know what island it is, and we don’t care. While our vessel was undergoing repairs we rowed up the inlet, as you did, and discovered these sands, which are marvelously rich with grains of pure gold. Before your eyes, gentlemen, lies the greatest natural accumulation of gold the world has ever known.”

He paused, after this impressive statement, and again we looked around wonderingly.

“We can’t get it all, that’s true,” resumed the Major; “but we have decided to stay here and defend our secret until each one of us has secured an independent fortune. Then the swarms of gold–hunters can settle here as thickly as they please. Of course we had our tools with us, and a good supply of provisions; so we were glad to let Alaska take care of itself and go to work washing out the wealth that lay at our feet. We knew the food wouldn’t last till we were ready to leave here, so we decided to send the ship home for more provisions. The captain was bound to secrecy by promise of a big share for himself, but soon after he sailed away a great storm arose, and probably the old, leaky craft never weathered it, for that was over a year ago, and no ship has reached this harbor until yours appeared.”

We listened to this recital with eager interest, for it explained much that had puzzled us. And Uncle Naboth remarked:

“It’s a strange story, sir. But I don’t see why you treated us as enemies when we came here.”

“Suppose you had been prospectors, like ourselves. What would become of our secret then?”

“But we’re not,” was the reply.

“It was even possible our captain might have reached shore and betrayed us. In that case you might be the forerunners of an army of invaders. We couldn’t take the chances, sir. We’ve been disappointed too many times. But it appears that you were merely the victims of the elements, and like ourselves were driven to this shore in a gale. So the only danger to be feared from you is your getting away before we’re ready to go with you. That was why we hesitated between murdering you and using your services to enable us to accomplish our task sooner than we otherwise could. We are not cut–throats, believe me, nor do we care to be responsible for the death of so many decent men. But the lust for gold has made my fellows desperate, and with immense fortunes within their grasp they will stick at nothing to protect themselves and their treasure.”

“That’s only natural,” growled Uncle Naboth.

“I’m glad to find you so reasonable,” said the Major. “Having discovered this field ourselves, we do not intend to share the gold with anyone; but we will make you a reasonable proposition. We will pay each one of you two dollars a day, in grains of gold, for your labor, and you must buckle to and help us to get out the gold. We will also pay you, in gold, for whatever provisions you have on your ship, or other supplies we may need. And when we have enough to satisfy ourselves, and are ready to sail back to civilization, we will pay you a reasonable price for passage in your ship. That seems to me to be fair and square. What do you say?”

“Why,” answered Uncle Naboth, with a gasp, “that’s all we could look for if we got to Alaska. We’re traders, sir, an’ expect to make our money in trade. The only thing we object to is workin’ like dogs to wash gold for somebody else.”

“You’ll have to put up with that objection,” returned the man, dryly. “Your labor will shorten our stay here a full year, and it’s the penalty you must suffer for being in our power.”

My uncle turned to his crew.

“What do you say, boys?” he asked.

Some grumbled, and all looked grave; but a glance at the lowering faces of the miners assured them that discretion was the better part of valor, so they yielded a reluctant consent to the arrangement.

“There’s one p’int, howsomever, as I should like to argufy,” said Uncle Naboth. “This here lad’s too small an’ delicate to work at the washin’, an’ somebody’s got to give out the provisions an’ collect the pay for ’em. Let him out o’ the deal, sir, an’ make him clerk o’ the supplies.”

“I will agree to that,” said the Major, promptly. “When we get back to the States we don’t want to have anything against our record; so this bargain shall be kept faithfully on our side. I’ll prepare a paper, which every man here must sign, stating that you accept the agreement freely and without compulsion, and will be satisfied with your wages and the payment for your groceries and supplies. Also you must each one take an oath not to betray to anyone the whereabouts of this island after you leave it, for it will be a valuable possession to us even after we’ve taken enough gold from it to make us rich. Meantime you’ll be well treated, but carefully watched. To some extent you’ll be, morally, our prisoners; but the only hardship you will suffer is to labor hard for a few months at a small salary.”

“That’s agreeable, sir,” said my uncle; and the men accepted the arrangement with more or less grace.

Then the conference broke up. Our sailors, as well as Captain Gay, the mate and my uncle, were at once set to work washing gold on the banks of the inlet, their numbers being distributed among the miners, who showed them what to do and supervised the work. It appeared that all the gold gathered by our people was to go into a common pot, to be distributed equally among our captors; but each miner worked for himself alone, and was entitled to whatever he secured. In this way a premium was set upon individual industry, and they worked eagerly and persistently, at the same time insisting that the “Flipper’s” crew did not loiter.

The Major, whose influence over his rough comrades was undoubted, retired within his tent to draft the paper we were to sign, and I, left to my own devices, wandered here and there, watching the men and wondering what would be the outcome of this singular adventure.

At noon the paper was ready, and it set forth clearly and fairly the terms of the agreement. We were all required to sign it, as well as every miner in the camp, and then the Major took possession of it, there being no duplicate.

After the midday meal six of our sailors were selected to man the long boat, and then accompanied by the Major, who was fully armed, and by myself, they rowed down the inlet to the harbor, and we boarded the ship.

I selected such of the provisions as were most needed by the half starved miners, and also carried away a number of blankets, as the nights were chill and the blankets would prevent much suffering.

Two trips we made that afternoon, and when the miners stopped work for the day I had quite a heap of groceries piled upon the sands. Instantly they surrounded me, clamoring for supplies, which I served to each man as he demanded them.

They paid me in grains of pure gold, which they drew from sacks, old stockings tied with a string, and even pockets cut from their clothing. How much to demand I did not know, and some paid me too much, I suppose, and some too little. One of them, a low browed, black bearded fellow called Larkin, obtained a quantity of goods and then said he would pay me some other time; but the Major insisted that I be paid then and there. So the man laid down a pinch of gold, saying it was enough, and I was about to accept it when the Major drew his revolver and said, quietly:

“This is a fair deal, Larkin. Shell out!”

The fellow uttered a string of angry oaths, but he added to his first offering until his leader was satisfied, and then went away vowing “to get even with the robbers.”

To avoid further trouble, I brought a small pair of scales from the ship next day. They were not very accurate, I fear, but they were much better than guesswork. The Major and I figured out exactly what weight of gold should stand for a dollar, and I was allowed to put my own price on our supplies; but I took care not to be exorbitant in my demands, and most of the men expressed themselves as well satisfied with the arrangement.

As a good share of the provisions would suffer by being left out in the night air, it was decided to build a warehouse for my use: “a reg’lar grocery store,” Uncle Naboth described it; so the men all set to work, and under the direction of our ship’s carpenter soon constructed a roomy and comfortable hut for this purpose. By repeated trips to the ship in the long boat, I soon accumulated a good stock of everything our cargo represented, and by taking off the covers of the boxes and then piling them on their edges, in rows, I soon made my hut look like a prosperous mercantile establishment. Surplus and unopened boxes were utilized to form a counter in front of my stock, and here I placed my scales and weighed the gold that was offered in payment.

The men were as prodigal as all miners are, and denied themselves nothing so long as they had gold to pay for it. So my stock gradually increased in gold and diminished in merchandise, and the men were well fed and comfortable.

But the sands upon which we so carelessly trod were wonderfully rich in the precious metal, and any sort of industry was sure to be repaid enormously by the glittering grains scattered about. It was not dust, you understand, but tiny grains resembling those of granulated sugar. The richest yield was derived from the sands at the bottom of the shallow inlet, and the practice of the miners was to wade a little way into the stream, scoop up a basin off the sandy bottom and wash it until only the specks of sparkling metal remained. As it was difficult to care for this properly, I brought from the ship a quantity of sail–cloth, which I made, during my leisure moments, into stout bags, about the size of salt–sacks, sewing the seams firmly. These bags I sold readily to the miners, who, when they filled one, would usually bury it beneath the sand in their hut, so that it would be safe. I did not do this with my supply, however, but piled my sacks into an empty box in one corner of my grocery store, feeling sure there would be no theft of them in the confines of our little camp. Neither did the Major secrete his hoard, which lay plainly in sight of anyone who entered his hut; and the Major’s store of gold was enormous because he took charge of all that our men washed out, until the time for final division should arrive.

There was no game of any sort, that we knew of, upon the island; but the men caught plenty of fish in the upper part of the inlet and in the bay upon the ocean frontage. The thickets surrounding our camp were considered absolutely impenetrable, on account of the underbrush and creeping vines that formed such a thick network at the foot of the trees. Yet there was a man named Daggett who, it was rumored, had found a way to traverse the forest with comparative ease.

This Daggett was quite a remarkable person, and enters now into my story.

He was a thin, withered little man, about fifty years of age who had been an unsuccessful miner all his life until now. So eager was he, at first, to take advantage of the great opportunities here afforded to secure a fortune, that he would work by moonlight washing gold, while his companions slept and rested from their labors. But soon he conceived an idea that these golden sands were deposited from some point in the mountains of the interior of the island, where solid gold abounded in enormous quantities. So he quit washing, and began a search for the imaginary “mountain of gold,” cutting a secret path through the thicket to the more open interior, and passing day after day in his eager quest. At first he urged some of his comrades to join him, but they only laughed at his idea, being well content to obtain the coveted gold in an easy way, where it lay plainly before their eyes.

But Daggett did not desist, spending day after day in roaming through the wild hills in his fruitless search. During the time he lost in this way his mates were accumulating a vast store of golden grains, while Daggett was as yet only in possession of the result of his first eager labors; and after I opened my grocery store he was obliged to exchange pinches of his small substance for supplies, so that it gradually dwindled away to a mere nothing. He haggled so over the price of every article he secured that his fellows jeered him unmercifully, calling him “the miser” and berating him for neglecting his opportunities. Indeed, the poor fellow was well–nigh desperate, at the last, for he alone of all the camp was still poor, and his only salvation, he considered, was to find the hills of solid gold before the time came for all to abandon the island. So he was gone for days, returning to camp to secure provisions; and no one knew where he wandered or seem to care.