The Frontier Boys in the Sierras Part 19

"Good head, Tommy," said Jim patronizingly. "But what are those stars near the end of the line?"

"They represent a snow storm, I guess," said Jo.

"Oh, they do!" said Jim. "I suppose that is a hint it will be winter before we find anything. But what do these numbers below the stars mean? 400 -- + 1500 -- 30. Is that yards, feet, dollars, or doughnuts?"

"Isn't that a cross marked before the 1500?" asked Tom the lynx-eyed.

"I guess you are right," said Jim, "but I don't see as it helps any."

"We might as well adjourn," remarked Jo, "we have got our plan, and we can spend some time studying it out. We have had plenty of exercise for one day and we can take our time to make a good camp."

"All right," agreed Jim. "To-morrow it's all hands to try to locate the Lost Mine."

It was clear sailing now for a ways, at least so it seemed, but things are rarely what they seem, and there was a certain party of men not many miles distant whose business in that part of the country was to locate the Frontier Boys, but of this they only had a dim suspicion from the sight of the man of whom Juarez had caught a fleeting glimpse.

It did not take the boys long to cover the ground between the cabin and the place where they had left Juarez with the horses and mules. It was a little over half a mile from the shelf where the cabin stood to the group of pines where Juarez was. The upper half of the slope was covered with tall tufted gra.s.s and scattered rocks. The lower part was a long slide of sand.

"I'll beat you tenderfeet down," vaunted Jim.

"Let's get an even start and I'll show you," said Jo, who was in truth a fleet runner. "Jeems will give us the send-off, as he is the only one who has his revolver with him."

So they lined up on the level place in front of the cabin, while Juarez, who felt that there was something in the wind, came out into the open and watched the proceedings with interest. He saw that a race was about to take place and he stood prepared to catch the winner.

"Are you ready?" inquired Jeems in a shrill voice, and the three admitted that they were; then he extended his pistol over his head and fired. There was a sharp report, and away the boys leaped as though they, too, had been shot out of a gun. Down the steep slope they went over the tufted gra.s.s and rocks like bounding jack-rabbits. Jim was ten feet in the lead, then Jo, and Tom five feet behind him.

My, but it was fun! I would give a good deal to be in that race. How the boys did jump! Jim with his long legs and stride seemed to have the advantage at first, but when they struck the long sand slide Jo began to pull up on his brother. Even the scout who was watching the race from a distant tree became so interested that he lost his caution for a moment and came into view.

"I bet the little varmint beats the lanky guy," he said to himself.

It seemed so, for half way down the slide the "little varmint" had crawled up even with Jim. They were going so fast that you could not see them for the haze, and the gravel and sand flew from before their feet like spray and they leaped fifteen to twenty feet at a stride. I tell you it was exciting work. Jo drew ahead and beat Jim about three feet, it was that close, and Tom "came tumbling after."

"I get the prize," cried Jo, as soon as he could get his breath.

"It's a silver water pitcher," said Juarez, giving him a big tin cup.

"Look out, here comes Jeems on the warpath," cried Jim.

They looked up and sure enough there he came full tilt, his long hair streaming in the breeze and his lanky legs reaching out like they were endowed with the wonderful seven-league boots. Here was fun.

"He's drunk!" cried Juarez.

"He is running away!" yelled Jim.

"Whoa, Mosquito, whoa!" screamed Jo and Tom in unison.

The scout who was roosting in the tree a quarter of a mile below, became so enthused at the sight of the lanky vision striding down the mountainside that he became convulsed with laughter. Just then Jeems, who was half way down the sand slide, accompanied by the wild yells of the boys who were watching him, struck, in one of his flying steps, a partially submerged rock.

The effect was instantaneous and surprising, such was his momentum that he bounced high into the air and sprawled out like a gigantic flying squirrel for thirty feet or more before he came to earth, or rather dove to sand, and was lost in a cloud of dust. The boys rushed to pick up the remains.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "LOOK OUT, HERE COMES JEEMS ON THE WARPATH."--P. 165.]

CHAPTER XIX

THE CAMP IN THE VALLEY

The dust settled and they were able to see Jeems in all his outlines.

He seemed unhurt and in the possession of all his faculties, for he began to spout poetry to the boys after this wise:

"From morn till noon he fell, from noon Till dewy eve then like a falling star Dropt from the zenith."

"Hurrah for Lucifer!" cried Jo, who knew something about literature.

Jeems bowed.

"What did you think you were, a flying squirrel?" inquired Tom.

"I didn't think, I just flew," said Jeems, which was true.

This incident likewise came near getting their enemy who was in hiding, for when he saw Jeems Howell perform his startling evolution in the air, he laughed so hard that he lost his balance and came cras.h.i.+ng through the branches to the ground below and he lay there rolling over and over, not in the agony of a broken leg, but with uncontrollable laughter. As he told his pals later, "I never seen the likes of that performance. It was head and heels over any circus that 'Green Ike' ever saw back in ole Missoury. (Green Ike so-called, not on account of the color of his skin, but of his eyes.) That fellar must have struck a spring board the way he went through the air."

After the excitement had quieted down over Jeems Howell's flight through s.p.a.ce, the boys took up the next order of the day, which was "forward march to their camping place for the night." It was now well along in the afternoon and the shadows were extending far down the slopes and across the valleys.

"We must get to a place where there is good water," said Juarez, as they started on their way.

"I wish we could find some grazing for the horses," mused Jim.

"It's a long pull into that valley down there," remarked Jo, "but I guess we can make it."

"I don't see why not," said Tom. "Our horses have had a long rest and ought to make fine time."

They did succeed in finding an excellent camping place after riding down the mountain slopes for about five miles. They came into quite a broad valley with a beautiful stream of clear tumbling water flowing through the midst of it, and green meadows on either side.

"I bet that's a fine trout stream," exclaimed Tom enthusiastically.

"This is one of the best places that we ever had to camp in," cried Jo. "The only place I can remember that beat it was in Mexico near the trembling mountain where we were all shut in."

"Here's the place for a camp," announced Jim. "This hill is away from the mountain slope far enough so that no enemy can crawl down under the protection of the trees. Then it can be defended, if necessary.

For some reason, I would not like to camp out on that level meadow to-night."

"You don't expect trouble with Indians, do you?" inquired Tom anxiously.

"No," replied Jim, "but there are other bad men besides Indians."

"You are right, Skipper," said the shepherd, "we are liable to find the worst kind of cutthroats and ruffians in this part of the country."