The Dead Spend No Gold Page 16

  “And you thought it was the Miwok?” Virginia asked. “Did you have any proof before you started killing them?”

  He spread his arms helplessly, as if to say, Who else could it be?

  “These women, and children?” the girl shouted. “They harmed your brother?”

  Put to the question, Frank found he couldn’t justify his actions or those of his companions. “It was a mistake,” he muttered.

  “Like hell it was,” Newton broke in, his voice full of righteous certainty. “Why are you jabbering?” He stared down at the Indian girl as if he wanted to shoot her, too. He dismounted and loomed over her. “These people killed my son. If it was in my power…”

  Feather had been quiet, praying beside Chief Honon. Now she rose up and whirled on the man. She was half his size, and yet Newton backed up in the face of her fury. “You cowards!” she screamed, and the ranchers flinched and turned away.

  Martin drew his pistol, but even Carpenter and Banks, who were his friends, had enough sense to stop him. A lone Indian girl faced down the entire search party, and it was the men who looked cowed.

  Newton snorted and mounted his horse. “Kill them or let them go, I don’t care.”

  “What are we waiting for?” Perkins shouted. “We need to go. We need to get out of here before it gets dark.”

  Frank glanced up and noticed that the sun was hovering just above the treetops. He turned helplessly to the three newcomers. The returning braves would not stop to ask questions if they found them. “Come with us,” he said to Virginia Reed. “We’ll keep you safe.”

  “With you?” she asked, as if it was the strangest idea she had ever heard.

  “It’s not safe here,” Frank insisted.

  Thomas Whitford came up beside Frank while they were talking. “We have to go, son. She’ll either come with us or she won’t. But we must leave.”

  Frank hesitated, ready to tell his father and the others to go on without him. Virginia Reed appeared to have completely dismissed him. She went over to join the Indian girl and boy.

  With a sigh, Frank mounted his horse. The others were already heading down the trail.

  He’d just set spurs to his horse when he heard Virginia’s voice behind him.

  “Wait.”

  * * *

  The young rancher turned around and looked at Virginia with such hope that she was surprised.

  “Go on, Father,” the young man said to the older one. “I’ll catch up.”

  The father frowned, “You sure, Frank? I’ve lost one son, and I don’t…”

  Virginia gave the man a level stare. “We’re not murderers.” Neither man spoke, though the old man looked shaken. He finally nodded and left.

  The young man looked anything but certain as his father rode away.

  I’ve seen this boy before, Virginia thought, and then remembered the two ranchers she’d met in the streets of Sutter’s Fort. The ones who had stared at her as if she was vermin.

  The young man had a different sort of look on his face now: sadness, and compassion…and something else. She was drawn to him, though she didn’t know why. She looked back at the dead bodies of the Indians and thought perhaps she should hate him.

  Yet she had to admit to herself that he was right. The Miwok warriors wouldn’t wait for an excuse or an explanation. They wouldn’t check to be sure that she was innocent in the massacre. While Feather might be safe staying in these mountains, she and Jean most definitely were not.

  “I really must insist you come along,” he said. “The Indians will want revenge.”

  “I won’t leave without my friends, Feather and Jean Baptiste,” she said finally. “But if we go with you, they have to be safe.”

  “I give you my word,” he said. “If you come with me, I will protect you.”

  “And them.”

  “And them.”

  “They may wish to stay, or at least not come with you,” Virginia warned. “Nor would I blame them.”

  “Go talk to them,” Frank urged. “And Miss…try your best to convince them.”

  “Wait here,” she said. “I won’t be long.”

  * * *

  Feather knelt beside her people. She was leaning back on her heels, and her were eyes closed as if she was praying. A keening sound was emerging from her lips, and Virginia realized she was singing for the dead. Jean Baptiste stood beside her, looking helpless.

  Virginia knelt beside her friend and put a hand on her arm. She waited until her friend met her gaze before speaking. “We have to leave here, Feather,” she said gently. “It isn’t safe.”

  The Indian girl didn’t seem to hear her at first.

  “If you must stay,” Virginia continued, “I leave you to your grief. But I am taking Jean Baptiste with me, Feather.”

  This seemed to finally get through. Virginia flinched at the anger in Feather’s eyes.

  “I will go with thee,” she said. “Not because I want to, but because my father asked me to help the Canowiki. I will do so until the task is done. After that…I vow to never speak English again and never more associate with white people.”

  She stood. “The Skoocoom will not stop at killing the white man now. He will kill all of us if he is not stopped. And if not for my father’s request, I would let the Skoocoom kill one and all.”

  She rose and walked away, down the mountain trail, followed by Jean Baptiste. The young rancher watched them go, not moving.

  He looked down at Virginia with a concerned look she despised.

  “Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” He reached down, offering to swing her up behind him. “My name is Frank, by the way.”

  Virginia stared at him in disgust. She didn’t take his hand.

  She started off after her friends, her rifle against her shoulder.

  CHAPTER 14

  Grendel

  He looked down on the Loud Ones, the ones who invaded his home, who mutilated the earth and killed the creatures that live on it.

  Now they had killed the Quiet Ones, the familiar ones who brought him gifts and whom he knew and tolerated as long as they stayed away from his hunting grounds. He had not stopped the slaughter, for he was angry at all of their kind. But later, he felt some small regret.

  The banging sticks hurt him, and the wounds they made took time to heal. He knew if the banging hit him in the wrong spot, he could die. But he had no choice. He had to drive them away from his home. He had to scare them, kill them, or make them go away. He had the Little One to take care of now. The banging sticks would hurt the Little One. Mother had gone away and come back, and then the Little One had come, and he’d smelled like Mother.

  Grendel would no longer tolerate the Loud Ones or anyone else who threatened his kind. He would kill them all, or drive them away. His family would live in peace as they had always lived, in the glowing cave.

  The Loud Ones were on guard. He understood that. He would let the Loud Ones and the Quiet Ones kill each other. Perhaps he would not have to attack them again. Perhaps they had learned.

  He watched as they moved down the mountain. Good. They were leaving…all but the three who still dwelt by the mountain stream, digging into the earth like the rodent creatures he ate. It was his stream. His place.

  Tonight, he decided, they would die.

  But then he saw the Quiet Ones, the ones who lived beside him, approaching their camp, and he crouched to watch.

  * * *

  The more time David Jordan spent with his brothers at the mining camp, the more certain he was that it hadn’t been an Indian attack that had caused the damage. The meager Jordan ranch ran along the unofficial borders of the local tribe’s land, and they’d always gotten along with the Miwok. He was just as glad when the revenge-minded search party went on without them. He had no interest in killing Indians.

  He hoped the search party calmed down before they arrived at the Indian village. His neighbors were good people; they wouldn’t cause a ruckus if they didn’t have to. Most likely, t
hey had found James and Oliver and were heading on home.

  No, whatever had caused the chaos here had been some kind of natural event. A freakish event, to be sure, but something completely natural. Had to be. So David wasn’t worried about Indians. He was concerned about his youngest brother, though, who had gone missing in the night.

  The three remaining Jordan brothers argued all day about what they should do about it.

  “We need to find him,” Jonathan said. “I saw you-all check the gold. You thought he took it.”

  The gold was untouched, they’d all verified that, including, despite his self-righteousness, Jonathan.

  “He probably just went home,” David said. He rarely spoke, so when he did, the others paid attention. “He was missing his girl.”

  “That’s probably it,” Jonathan agreed. “But shouldn’t we make sure?”

  “How about if one of us goes searching,” Billy said, “and while he’s in town, he stakes a claim to this portion of the river? None of these fellows are going to dispute it.” He motioned to the hastily dug graves.

  “That’s what we should do,” David agreed. Jonathan, who no more wanted to leave the gold camp than the others, made a show of reluctantly agreeing.

  But despite the agreement, none of them made ready to leave. Eventually, in a day or two, one of them would go to town, check up on the family. They would flip a coin or something. But none of them were really concerned about their youngest brother’s disappearance. Jake had skipped out on the family before, to visit Patsy Newton, though David couldn’t see the attraction.

  Soon Jonathan would probably wander off too, since he was the one who’d gotten all self-righteous about it. Meanwhile, they must find the source of the gold.

  After the second day, however, they were ready to give up.

  “I don’t believe anyone in this camp ever found much gold,” Billy concluded, saying what they were all thinking.

  “Except this fellow,” Jonathan said. They’d buried the man who’d had the gold in his pockets, and Jonathan was standing near the grave. He kicked some dust from the top of the mound. David winced at the disrespect.

  Until now, the gold rush had held no appeal for David. He liked things simple. But then it occurred to him that being rich would make things very simple indeed. Since they seemed so close to the mother lode, why not search for it?

  He decided it was time to let the others know what he was thinking. He had been thinking about it for a while now, and he’d come to some conclusions. David was the smartest of the brothers, but only he was smart enough to recognize it. He usually kept quiet because his thoughts were wasted on most people.

  “He wasn’t letting anyone else know about his find, that’s my guess,” he said.

  “So he hid it?” Billy asked. “But where? Wouldn’t the others see him digging it up?”

  “I don’t think these are river stones,” David said. “I don’t reckon these rocks have ever been anywhere near water. These here are rocks out of a mountainside, unless I miss my guess, or chunks from the boulders. But seeing as there aren’t any holes around here, seems to me…” He turned and glanced significantly at the cliff behind him.

  The others’ jaws dropped, because once it was pointed out, it was so obvious.

  So they each took a section of the cliff and started exploring.

  It was Billy who found the mother lode, which was unfortunate, because that meant the other brothers would never hear the end of it.

  Billy will probably want a bigger share, too, David thought, conveniently forgetting that it was me who did all the thinking.

  There was evidence that the dead miner had tried to cover up his find, but he’d clearly been rushed and done a terrible job of it. The clay and gravel hid most of the gleaming rocks, but here and there the sun caught the metal and it flashed.

  Then again, no one would have thought to look here. David had a sudden insight: the gold in the rivers had washed down from above. The real gold was in the hillside. He closed his eyes and a vision of entire mountains being knocked down came into his mind, and he felt regret. On the other hand…if it wasn’t him finding the gold, it would be someone else.

  The brothers excitedly cleared away the dirt and rocks, and there, gleaming like a palace in the afternoon sun, was a vein of gold so rich and so pure that it blinded them if they looked at it too long. David had been hearing stories about gold strikes for months now, but he’d never heard of anything like this. He wasn’t sure anyone in the history of the world had found anything like this.

  The brothers ran their hands along the streak of gold, and pulled more rocks from the cliffside, trying to figure out how far the vein went. That’s when they found an opening that led to a small cave. The gold seam merged with the hole and disappeared into it. David poked his head in. He felt a small breeze that bore an odd scent, which meant there was another opening. That complicated things. If someone had found the other side of this gold vein, they might have a claim on it too. He didn’t want that to happen.

  “I’m going in,” David announced. He took off his pack and then his coat. It was a tight fit, but when he shed everything but his clothes, he managed to get in. He stuck his hand out but wasn’t able to turn his head to look at his brothers.

  “Either of you happen to have a candle on you?” David shouted. His voice was swallowed up by the crevice, and he had the sense that the cavern was huge and opened up somewhere higher up.

  “Stay there,” Billy shouted. “I’ll be right back.”

  David waited, pinioned in the narrow gap, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness. The cave rose steeply. Luckily, the gold was on the side, not on the bottom of the fracture, and he thought there might be enough footing for him to continue upward.

  He felt a candle being put into his hand.

  “Careful!” Billy called. “It’s lit!”

  David carefully maneuvered the candle past his chest, snagged it with his other hand, and lifted it up. The cave exploded with flickering light. The gold caught the tiny flame and accentuated it. The gold seam reached as high and far as the light penetrated. He climbed the steep corridor, using the sides to keep himself steady. The higher he went, the wider the expanse of gold became, until at the top of the narrow crack, it spread out in every direction as far as the light would shine. The crevice opened into a wider cave, and he thought he might be able to squeeze through.

  Another day, David thought. This cave is inhabited.

  He’d noticed the awful smell when he’d first entered the cave but hadn’t thought much about it. The stench had gotten worse the farther he’d gone. He thought he saw excrement under his feet, streaming downward. He had a sudden feeling that he was being watched.

  Bear, he thought. And here I am without so much as a knife.

  He backed away. He wasn’t up to fighting bears. He’d be a tasty morsel for the beast, something to pluck out of the darkness. The candle flickered, but he wasn’t concerned. It wasn’t as if he could get lost; all he had to do was follow the crevice downward. Still, he wasted no time.

  David heard his brothers shouting, no doubt getting excited about their find.

  I wish we had some gunpowder, he mused. They’d be able to blow a big hole in the side of the cliff. The gold might go flying everywhere, but he wasn’t worried. Unless he missed his guess, there was enough of the bullion here to replace the entire national reserve. They were going to be the richest men alive—if they could keep it.

  David was troubled, however. It was too much gold. He only wanted enough to be independent, to expand the ranch, maybe build a nicer house. His ambitions were modest. He wondered if he could talk his brothers into taking only a little of it at a time, or even keeping it secret altogether.

  But even as he thought it, he knew there was no way they were going to be able to keep it secret. Hell, Billy would tell the first person he saw, and then the next person he saw, and then the next, and would think he was swearing them to secrecy.
<
br />   Once the gold was exposed, David suspected, there was no way they were going to be able to keep it all. He had no illusions. He was smart enough to know that there were smarter people than him, more powerful and ruthless. Some big business or government or something would mostly likely swoop in and take the riches from them.

  The dead miner, bless his unlucky soul, had the right idea: keep it secret—though with David’s dullard brothers, that was probably going to be impossible. Well, whatever happened, there’d be enough gold in his pockets on the first trip into town to keep him solvent for a good long while. Let the others squabble over the rest.

  David got the bottom of the long, narrow corridor, and turned the final corner. Light streamed in from outside. He’d expected one of his brothers to be standing at the cave’s entrance, but there was no one in sight.

  Then a shadow crossed the light. David frowned. He knew his brother’s movements as he knew his own, and that wasn’t one of his brothers. He stood in the shadows and debated going back, searching for a different exit. Something was wrong. At least one of his brothers should have been there, waiting. And he should have been able to hear them talking, loudly and boisterously, as usual.

  He decided there was more than enough gold to go around. He’d argue his way out of the problem, whatever it was. He always had. Share the wealth. He didn’t want it all anyway, only enough to get by.

  David emerged, blinking, into the light. The afternoon sun was so bright that he couldn’t see anything at first. He sensed someone moving quickly toward him, and something about the movement seemed threatening, so he put out his hands.

  “Whoa, there, my friend,” he said. “Whatever the problem is, we can talk about it.”

  He stared at the ground, away from the bright light, and that’s when he saw Jonathan.