THE HILLSIDE POCKET.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VI, Issue 27, 5 July 1890, Page 18

THE HILLSIDE POCKET.

? T was about ten o'clock in the morning when Chloride Jack came up out of the mine and called us into the cabin. My brother and I knew that something un/Y. usual had happened, or the old miner jjFSf i' x x“ would never have climbed the long shaft- \ ladder before noon. He led the way into !• ' the cabin, and poured upon the table the f contents of a heavy gunny-sack. ‘ Boys,’ he said, ‘ we have struck it rich at last !’ Apparently we had struck it rich at last. There it lay on the table, fifty or more irregular chunks of red • rotten ’ quartz, and all through it great strings and lumps of dark yellow gold. We could scarcely believe our eyes, but Jack was quick to explain. ‘ You see, I thought from what Antonio said last night about that little stringer of ore he’s been following up that it was a going to do something big for us before long, and so this morning I set Antone to work in the east drift, and I just put a drill into the stringer myself. Before I’d gone a foot she broke right through into the soft rock, and the first charge of powder laid open just the prettiest little pocket you ever see. But it wasn't nothing but a pocket !’ he added, sorrowfully. ‘ That there on the table is all the gold we'll ever get out of it. I cleaned that up in less than fifteen minutes, and then I worked two hours longer without seeing so much as a colour. ’ M hat did we care if it was only a pocket ? In the mass of quartz lying before us there was at least three thousand dollars : and even if there were no more gold in that particular spot, there was reason to believe that a mine which had one pocket would have others.

I was only eighteen year's old, and had come to Arizona bitt lately. My brother, a mining engineer, had been working the Hillside Mine for several years. It had not paid very well, and he had gradually reduced the force of men until there were left only Chloride Jack, who was the foreman and an ‘oldtimer ' in tfiis Western country, and the two Mexicans, Antonio and Chono.

Only the day before we had talked of shutting down the mine permanently. Now there on the table lay hope and

encouragement. We laughed, whistled and sang. We were almost angry with Jaek liecause he took the matter so coolly. When the Mexicans came up at noon, we showed the ‘ find to them. They had seen it once by candlelight in the mine. As they looked eagerly at the'gold, they congratulated ‘ the most fortunate senors.’ But when dinner was over, we suddenly noticed that the Mexicans had not gone back to work in the mine, but were standing talking excitedly together on the other side of the shaft. \\ hen Jaek went out to ask the reason, they muttered something about * No worka on tejiesta day,' and iiniveil away. We began to recognise the gravity of the situation. In the cabin was three thousand dollars almost as pure as bullion. The mine was twenty-five miles from Antelope, the nearest town by the road across Antelope Desert, with not a house of any kind until within sight of the town. We had our horses, it is true, but the Mexicans had theirs. I’he horses were all feeding now on the met" in sight of the cabin. We had arms, but so had they. The borders of Mexico were less than a hundred miles away. The Mexican' had worked for ns and lived with us for more than a year. They

were good workers, ami always courteous ; but now, with three thousand dollars in the cabin, could we trust them ? Their unwillingness to work this afternoon was certainly suspicious. As my brother and I began to perceive that it might be necessary to defend the gold with our lives, we almost wished that we had never seen the pocket, or even the mine. My brother finally said : ‘ Jack, I'm afraid that we are in a pretty bad box. You know this country and the Mexicans better than we do, and we shall have to depend on you. What had we lietter do ? He had evidently lieen thinking as fast as we had, for he said : ‘ Boys, I’ve lieen in worse scrapes than this many a time, and I've always come out alive so far. Now you do just as I tell you. You take your guns and go down ami bring in our horses. I'll be doing up the gold, and if them Greasers make a move on me in the cabin, yon must drop them quick as lightning. They won’t touch you nor the horses.' We strapped on our revolvers, and walked briskly toward the mesa, half a mile away. The Mexicans did not move towards the cabin. Perhaps they knew Jack's aim too well : at any rate, after a little hesitation, they followed us slowly towards the horses. We looked at the Mexicans’ horses, and then regretfully at our own. The Mexicans' ponies were fine animals, which they had brought with them from Northern Mexico. They are wiry and enduring beyond any breed of horses in the world. We had one good horse, and two poor ones. 1 >ne of these, ‘ Old Baldy,’ was fit only to haul ore from the mine. We caught our own animals while the Mexicans were chasing theirs, and huiried back to camp. By the time we had saddled, Jack stood in the door ready to start, with the gold tied securely in a gunny-sack. Without explanation, he told my brother to take the best horse. He himself mounted the second best, and gave me, as the lightest man, the weakest of the horses, Old Baldy. We started at once, and at the foot of the hill broke into a long, swinging lope. As we rode along Jack hurriedly outlined his plan. My brother, on the best horse and without the gold, was to take the trail, —shorter bv several miles than the regular road, hurry into town, and arouse a posse of officers. Jack and I. carrying the gold, were to take the road, and make the best time we could.

‘ I never knew a Greaser yet that really knew anything, anyhow,’ said Jack to my brother. ‘ When they see that the best horse has turned on by the trail all alone, they'll be dead suie he carries the gold. You'll lie light enough'without the ore to outrun them, I reckon : and if you can't why surrender. We’ll have the gold, and’ll get into town l>efore they can get back to the road after us.’ The trail turned otl about three miles from camp, and following a ‘ wash ’ which was a little too rocky for a road, saved about four miles out of the twenty-five. When we reached the fork, my brother turned his horse into the trail and bounded away irom ns. We had not seen the Mexicans since we left camp. Indeed, we had not much reason to think that they would follow us at all. Still, it was better to run no risks, and we kept on at a good pace. Jack was in the lead, while old Baldy followed close behind, breathing heavily but inspired by the horse in front, was keeping up well. We rode mile after ndle without speaking a word. All this while the horses never broke from their steady lope. But they were going much more slowly. I was feeling the strain of the long ride, too. now that the excitement was lessening, when, at the top of a long rise. Jack looked back and said, sharply : ‘ They’re after us, sure enough '. We’re in for it now.' I looked back. At the top of the farthest lise in sight there was a little cloud of dust. ‘lt appears that there are some Greasers who knew something this time,’ I said, panting, to Jack. He made no reply. We topped the hill and went swinging down the slope at a freshened pace. At the top of the next hill we could see two black figures in the cloud of dust. The race had begun in earnest. We were fully eight miles from town and the Mexicans were not more than a mile behind us. Jack looked very grave. Could we beat them on our tired horses, one weighed down with gold, and the other old and weak ? We urged the poor beasts to new efforts. The Mexican horses were giving full proof of their blood and toughness. As they Gradually closed in on us, we could see their riders strike them at intervals, and at

every blow they could spring forward at a wilder pace. At last one of the Mexicans drew his revolver and fired at us. Jack looked back, measured the distance, and said, grimly : ‘ You'll never hit anything from range.’ They wasted another shot, and then fell to urging their horses again, shouting in Spanish. They were risking everything by coming so close to town, and were furious, apparently at tho chance of our escape. So they shot again, and this time the bullet sang close above our heads. Jack turned, looked at my horse, at the Mexicans, who were about to tire again, and then at the road ahead. As if convinced that there was no alternative, he rose in the saddle, held the package of gold up into full view of our pursuers, ami threw it deliberately into the road. Then he urged his horse forward as fast as before. For a moment I was completely astounded. < ould this lie Jack, the old-timer, the hero of a dozen tights, giving up the gold without a single shot? Then, like a Hash, I saw what it meant. Jack was not afraid on his own account, but on mine. He feared that, in the fusillade on horseback that must have followed if the Mexicans overhauled us, I should be shot, and he had given up the gold to save me. For a moment I was very angry. In the excitement of the race I felt no fear, and was sure that no danger would have compelled me to abandon the treasure.

The Mexicans role tip to the sack, reined in their horses at the exact spot, picked up the package, and role back as rapidly as they came. But Jack kept urging his horse toward town without a word.

Again it Hashed over me that I had misjudged the old miner. He liad abandoned it only for a time. He was assuming that my brother had arrived in town, and by the time we leached there would have collected a poso- of men who would pursue the Mexicans, so we would not only recover the gold but catch the robbers. It happened just as we expected. My brother had been in town ten or fifteen minutes when we arrived, and had collected six or seven men on horseback, among them a deputy sheriff. Two of these offered .lack ami me their horses, ami in not much more time than it takes to tell it, we were all back on the road over which we had just come. Jack rode well ahead, pointing out the Mexicans’ tracks and explaining matters to the deputy-sheriff and my brother. The Mexicans had gone back over the road to a point within a few miles of the mine, and had then turned sharply to the southward, toward Mexico. The deputy-sheriff and his men followed the hot trail, but to my surprise Jack kept on toward the mine. My brother followed him and beckoned to me to come.

I was dumbfounded again. Did Jack expect to find the Mexicans at the mine, or was this a short cut to head them off ? We rode up to the cabin, dismounted and tied our horses. Everything was as we had left it. There were no Mexicans in sight. Jack led us straight into the kitchen. He dropped on his knees before the fireplace, ami, raking back the ashes, picked out lump after lump of blackened rock. As he rubbed one of these on his sleeve ami showed beneath the soot the glistening yellow metal, I slowly perceived that this was the very gold which he dug from the pocket that morning, and which I had been certain was on its way to Mexico.

As I stood looking at him in amazement, he said to me with a twinkle in his eye : ‘ Youngster, I never see a Greaser yet that knew anything, anyhow.’ The three thousand dollars' worth of ore had not been out of the cabin. While we and the Mexicans had been catching our horses after dinner, Jack had raked back the coals in the fireplace, buried the gold in the ashes, and replaced the embers. He had then tied up about an equal weight of ore specimens, of which the cabin was full, and it was this which he carried so carefully in our wild ride to town. 'When he threw this package to the Mexicans, they had been in too great fear of pursuit to examine it, and had carried it away unopened. How long they carried it we do not know. They did not have it when they were captured next morning, just making camp after an all-night ride. We did up the real gold this time, and before morning had it safe in ehaige of Wells, Fargo & Co., in Anteloye. < 'hloride Jack got a liberal share of it, but I doubt whether it did him so much good as did the recollection of those two Mexicans racing for their lives toward Mexico and carrying a heavy sack of worthless ore. ,

Frank Gillette.