Chapter 8. Shutting Up Shop

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_ CHAPTER EIGHT. SHUTTING UP SHOP

"I didn't believe we ever should start," said Chris, one morning at daybreak.

"But you were wrong," said Ned, "and here's good-bye to the old place."

It was a month later, during which time the journey had been made to the nearest town, the stores and other necessaries purchased, and after preparations which had lasted till midnight, every one had declared that there was nothing else to be done, and all had lain down to sleep, Griggs included, he having decided to stay at the ranch for the last night, after bringing over his baggage and animals, and he had by a gruesome kind of choice elected to sleep in the long shed.

"Where the poor old adventurer was put," he said, "and that will make me dream about him and perhaps have some happy thoughts about the best way to go."

There were not many farewells to bid, for the settlers at the nearest plantations were scattered widely about the district, and all for the most part too much worried about their own disappointments to pay much heed to a few neighbours who were giving up and going to try their fortune elsewhere, and for the most part were ready to sneer at the restless folk who were going prospecting where, according to their own ideas, they were not likely to do half so well.

Hence it was that as soon as it was light, and while Griggs with a hammer and spikes was nailing up the last windows and the door, for which pieces of board cut to the exact size lay ready, there was not a stranger there to see them off.

It was a busy time. They had all breakfasted by the light of the out-door fire which had boiled their coffee, cooked their damper, and frizzled their bacon, and now were all hard at work loading the dozen mules that had been purchased for the purpose of carrying their baggage, and in whose management every one had taken lessons from an old mule-driver who had made many journeys into the Far West.

For there was much to learn. "Obstinate as a mule" is a good old proverb, and the party had plenty of reason for learning its truth. They had heard too of the vicious nature of these same animals. They were used as beasts of burden, and they seemed to have made up their minds to be a burden to every one there. The old Yankee, who had made many a journey with mule teams, had taught them, and taught them well, all he could about the mysteries of lasso and lariat, and the diamond-hitch; but even after a fortnight's practice it was not easy to bind the loads well-balanced upon each mule's back without getting kicked, and when this was done, the mules having been disappointed at not being able to kick anybody, mostly made desperate attempts to kick at nothing, the result of which was the loosening of the ropes so that the loads rattled and in one case went flying.

This load had been tied on by the boys, who stood looking at one another and then at the mule, which, as soon as it was free, gave its ears a few twinkles, shook its shabby tail, and then began to graze quite contentedly on some alfalfa grass, or lucerne.

"Come, boys, don't stand looking on," cried the doctor. "Try again, or we shall be waiting for you. You must put your feet against the brute's side and haul tight, as you were taught."

"We did, sir," cried Ned, who was hot and angry.

"Not tight enough, my lad. You'll soon do it better."

"Not with this one, father. It's such a beast."

"They all are, my boy," said the doctor, laughing at his son's perplexed countenance.

"I mean such a wretch, father. It's so artful. When you've got the load on all right and balanced, and there's nothing to do but tighten the lariat, the nasty, spiteful, cunning brute waits till you begin to haul tight, and then fills itself full of wind and swells itself out. Then you pull till all is as tight as tight, and fasten off the knots."

"Well, that's right," said the doctor, who looked, like the rest, wonderfully business-like and ready for the journey, in leather Norfolk jacket, knickerbockers, and cowboy's hat.

"Yes, so we thought, sir," said Ned, "till I heard the brute sigh."

"Oh, poor thing, it was because it had such a heavy load."

"No, it wasn't, father; it was because it was breathing out all the wind again, and we didn't know what it meant till we found that the load was all loose, and when we went up to tighten it the wretch wheeled round and tried to kick us, and because it couldn't it kicked itself out of its load."

"Never mind, don't waste time, Chris. I want to start. We'll halt somewhere at mid-day for a rest, and set things right. After a few days' practice we shall get on better, and all these things will come easy."

"I hope they will," said Chris, as the doctor went off to where the carefully-folded tent and its poles and stretchers were being secured to another of the dozen mules which formed their team. "But look here, Ned, old chap, I'm not going to get in a passion now; I'm going to save it up, and before long I'm going to show this gentleman which of us two is going to be master."

"Oh, nonsense! My father said that we were to break the mules in with gentle treatment. They are obstinate, he said, because they've become so used to being beaten."

"Old Dence told me that kindness is thrown away upon a mule. He said you must let go at 'em with your tongue and a good thick stick; but if when you're using it you see one lay its ears down flat and draw its lips away from its teeth and laugh, it's because you don't hit hard enough. Well, this one did."

"Yes, I saw the brute grin," said Ned.

"Well, just you wait. I'm going to save up this fellow's dose, and he shall have it some day with interest."

"He told me," said Ned, "that you couldn't drive mules without using bad language. He did--lots."

"Yes, I heard him," said Chris.

"I told my father, and he was angry and said it was all nonsense. All you had to do was to shout at the brutes loudly, and as if you were in a rage. Then he laughed, and told me what to do."

"What was that?" said Chris, rather breathlessly, for he was busy arranging the mule's load.

"He said I was to stamp and yell, and begin to decline a Latin noun to the mules."

"Oh, bother the Latin nouns!" said Chris pettishly. "Who's to think of cases when you're driving a mule? Here, come on and help. And I say, I nearly forgot."

"Forgot what? I dare say we've forgotten lots of things."

"But we mustn't forget this. We're loading the leading mule, and it's the one that wears that bell round its neck. Where is it?"

"The bell? Last time I saw it was when father hung it on one of the gun-pegs over the fire-place."

"Oh!" exclaimed Chris, "and old Griggs is just finishing nailing up the door."

"Then he'll have to un-nail it again," said Ned grumpily. "Hi, Griggs!"

There were two or three echoing raps with the hammer, and then a couple of finishing blows, before the American cried--

"Hallo, there!"

"You're nailing up the mule's bell."

"Who says so?" and there was the commencement of the driving in of another nail.

"I do," cried Ned. "You must open the door again."

_Rap, rap, rap, rap, bang, bang, bang_, as another nail went home.

"Can't be done."

"But we must have that strap and bell."

"Come and fetch it then. It's hanging on the hitching-up hook at the end of the house."

"Oh!" sighed Ned in a voice full of relief, and he ran to the place specified, to lift down the bell and the collar-strap, to come back ringing it loudly.

"Hoi! Hallo, there! Steady!" cried Wilton excitedly. "Don't do that."

Ned gagged the bell at once by thrusting his left hand in its mouth and holding the clapper; but the little peal he had rung had done its work of setting all the mules in motion, bringing them all up close to the ringer, who found himself in the midst of a knot of squealing and kicking brutes, who diversified their vicious play by running open-mouthed at one another to bite.

But they were all loaded at length, there was a final look round, and then a move was made for the long shed, whose big door gaped wide, and as their footsteps were heard there was a shrill neigh from within and the sound of impatient stamping.

"This looks like a start at last, doctor," said Griggs, who came up last.

"Yes, at last," said the doctor.

"Got the map all right, sir?"

"Yes, in my saddle-bag. You said you had done everything that fell to your share."

"Everything but locking up this door, sir, and here are the keys," cried the American, holding up a leather bag, in which he jingled the hammer and a few of the big nails within.

"That's right," cried the doctor. "Now then," he shouted, "every one tighten his mustang's girths a hole or two, and sling his rifle across his back before mounting. Got your revolvers, boys?"

"Yes, father--yes, sir!" came in response, and the next minute half-a-dozen rough-looking wiry cobs were being unhitched and led out through the low doorway, to stand champing their big bits, fidgeting to be mounted and given their heads for a canter.

"Every one see that his bag and blanket are all right," cried the doctor; and then Griggs' voice was heard.

"Some one take my nag's rein," he said. "Will you, Squire Chris?"

For answer the boy reached out and took hold of the strap, casting his eye over the sturdy little steed, which seemed too small to carry so tall a man as its rider.

Chris noted that there was the long hide lasso-rope curled up and hanging in its place by the saddle-bow, and that the saddle-bags were in their places, carefully strapped on, so that a tin bucket, which was also hung behind, should rest on one and not prove a nuisance to horse or rider.

Ned was close to his companion, and he said--

"I say, it would have been much better if we had kept to our old idea and had, say, three light mule-carts. What a lot of these odds and ends we could have stowed out of the way."

"I said so to old Griggs," replied Chris, and then he was silent.

"Well, what did he say?"

"Only grinned at first."

"Well, what then?"

"He said it would have taken so long and been so expensive, because we should have had to send an army of men on first to make a road all the way we were going."

"Which means he was laughing at you."

"Grinning, I call it. But I suppose he's right, because when you come to think of it, there'll be no track, and a lot of our travelling will be in and out among the mountains. There, that's the last door," said Chris with a sigh, as there was a loud bang following the creaking of hinges that had been rarely used. Directly after, Griggs' hammer came into play, making the horses restive and back away from the noise to the full extent of their reins.

"Yes," said Ned, with a sigh, "the last door. I say, Chris, now it has come to it, don't you feel a bit sorry to go away from the old place?"

"Horribly," said the boy in a low, husky voice. "What fun we used to have!"

"Yes," said Ned, "before everything got to be so dull because things failed so and made my father so low-spirited."

"He wasn't so low-spirited as my father was; but I s'pose there wasn't much difference," replied Chris, to the accompaniment of Griggs' hammer and the fidgeting of his nag. "Quiet, will you, stupid! He isn't going to hurt you."

"I say, how jolly grumpy it used to make Mr Wilton."

"Hah!" ejaculated Chris. "A year ago he was always ready for a bit of fun, fishing, snaking, squirrel-hunting, or seeking honey. But there, no wonder; he felt like father, that it was all lose, lose, lose, and that it was unfair not to be at work."

"And it took all the fun out of our games."

"Yes, no more games now, Neddy. Father said last night when we were alone that we must bid good-bye to being boys with the place--leave all that here, and begin to think of being and acting like men."

"Yes, and my father said something like that to me, Chris; and somehow now it has come to making the start I don't feel as if I want to be a man yet. It was so jolly to be a boy here in the dear old place. Oh, bother the old gold! I wish that poor old chap hadn't come here to die."

"So do I," said Chris, and his voice sounded very husky now as he gazed round him at the many familiar objects. "I say, look how my apple-tree has grown!"

"Yes, and my pear," said Ned quickly. "It has beaten your old apple all to bits."

"Well, of course it has," said Chris roughly. "Pears do run up tall and straight and weak. Apples grow stout and strong and slow."

"They've done well enough."

"Yes; but then see what pains we took to water and manure them. Nothing else has done well."

"No, nothing. As father says, it has all been like slow ruin coming on; but I like the dear old place all the same, because we helped to make it out of the wilderness into a great garden. Oh, Chris, I wish we weren't going."

"So do I, but it's of no use to go on wishing. We should have felt much more miserable when we were starting to go back to England, not knowing what we were going to do. We should have had to go, and this is going to be like a great roving holiday, seeing something fresh and new every day."

"So it will be. There, I begin to feel better now. I say, look at the sun rising--isn't it glorious!"

"Always is," said Chris cheerily. "How different it makes things look! I always feel better when the sun shines. There, good-bye, old place, if we never see you again."

"But I say, Chris, we might come back some day, you know."

"Not likely."

"Why? We might find the gold, and then come back here to live. It wouldn't matter then about the peaches and grapes and things failing."

"No; father wouldn't want the money then," said Chris thoughtfully. "I should like to come back, after all, but--"

_Bing_!--Bing!--Bang!

"That's done it, sir," cried Griggs, his voice ringing out cheerily in the morning air. "I'll tuck the hammer and nails in my pouch. They may come in useful. No, I can't; it's full. I'll tuck the hammer handle through my belt. Either of you youngsters got room for a few nails in your pocket?"

"I have, Griggs," cried Chris quickly, and, with something to do, the pain of the farewell to the beautiful scene came to an end.

"Ready?" cried the doctor sharply.

"Aye, aye!" came back, and the horses shuffled and spread their legs.

"Mount!" cried the doctor, and every one sprang to his saddle amidst the stamping of the mustangs' feet. "Lead on, Griggs," cried the doctor.

The American pressed his cob's sides and trotted to where the leading mule stood browsing, ready to raise its head, shaking the bell violently, and make a vicious snap at the horse's neck with its bared teeth.

But Griggs was ready for it, and threw out one of his long legs, the toe of his boot catching the mule in the cheek and spoiling the aim.

"Look here, my fine fellow," he cried, "don't you try that game again, or I'll fix a spike to the end of a stout hickory ready for lancing those gums of yours. I'm afraid you've got toothache, or you wouldn't be so ready to bite. Now then, ring up. Get on."

"Forward!" snouted the doctor; and as the mule led the way under the American's direction the whole heavily-laden team filed after, settling down steadily enough, the horsemen bringing up the rear, looking like a little detachment of irregular cavalry as they wound along the tracks through the blighted plantation, straight away for the uncultivated wilds.

"Good-bye to five years' labour," said the doctor, turning in his saddle for a last look.

"Five years' disappointment," said Wilton sadly.

"Five years of buried hopes," said Bourne slowly; but the boys were silent, neither daring to trust his voice.

"And now," cried the doctor, "for five years of unburied hope and looking forward to the future. Here, boys, you ought to give a cheer. Who'll lead?"

No one: the moments were too sad, for there seemed to be a thick black veil hanging before them right in front, and neither dared to think of what might be to come.

Onward, onward into the future, with the wilderness unseen waiting to swallow up the adventurers in the unknown way--the perils to be encountered happily hidden from them as yet. _

Read next: Chapter 9. A Night Scare

Read previous: Chapter 7. All For Gold

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