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"Come on then to our camp."
He whistled to his two mules, strong, patient animals, and then he whistled on his own account the gayest and most extraordinary variation that Will had ever heard, a medley of airs, clear, pure and birdlike, that would have made the feet of any young man dance to the music. It expressed cheerfulness, hope and the sheer joy of living.
"You could go on the stage and earn fine pay with that whistling of yours," said Will, when he finished.
"Others have told me so, too," said the Little Giant, "but I'll never do it. Do you think I'd forget what Uncle Pete said to me on his dyin' bed, an' get out o' patience? What's a matter o' twenty or thirty years? I'll keep on lookin' an' in the end I'll find plenty o' gold as a matter o' course. Then I won't have to whistle fur a livin'. I'll hire others to whistle fur me."
"He's got another accomplishment, Will, one that he never brags about," said the hunter.
"What is it?"
"I told you once that I was as good a rifle shot as there was in the West, over a range of a million and a half square miles of mountain and plain, but I forgot, for a moment, about one exception. That exception is Giant Tom, here. He has one of the fine repeating rifles like ours, and whether with that or a muzzle loader he's quicker and surer than any other."
The face of Giant Tom turned red through his tan.
"See here, Jim Boyd, I'm a modest man, I'm no boaster, don't be telling wild tales about me to young William. I don't know him yet so well as I do you, an' I vally his good opinion."
"What I say is true every word of it. If his bullet would only carry that far he'd pick off a deer at five miles every time, and you needn't deny it, Giant Tom."
"Well, mebbe thar is some truth in what you say. When the Lord sawed me off a foot, so I'd hev to look up in the faces o' men whenever I talked to 'em, He looked at me an' He felt sorry fur the little feller He'd created. I'll have to make it up to him somehow, He said to Hisself, an' to he'p me along He give me muscles o' steel, not your cast steel, but your wrought steel that never breaks, then He put a mockin' bird in my throat, an' give me eyes like an eagle's an' nerves o' the steadiest. Last, He give me patience, the knowin' how to wait years an' years fur what I want, an' lookin' back to it now I think He more than made up fur the foot He sawed off. Leastways I ain't seen yet the man I want to change with, not even with you, Jim Boyd, tall as you think you are, nor with you, young William, for all your red cheeks an' your youth an' your heart full o' hope, though it ain't any fuller than mine."
"Long but mighty interesting," said Boyd. "Now, you can see our wickiup, over there in the open. We use it only when it rains. We'll help you take the packs off your mules and they can go grazing for themselves with our horses. You are not saying much about it, but I imagine that you and the mules, too, are pretty nearly worn out."
"Them's good mules, mighty good mules, but them an' me, I don't mind tellin' it to you, Jim Boyd, won't fight ag'inst restin' an' eatin' awhile."
"I'll light the fire and warm food for you," said Will. "It's a pleasure for me to do it. Sit down on the log and before you know it I'll have ready for you the finest lake trout into which you ever put your teeth."
"Young William, I accept your invite."
Will quickly had his fire going, and he served not only trout, but bear steaks and hot coffee to the Little Giant, who ate with a tremendous appetite.
"I've got provisions of my own in my packs," he said, "but sometimes the other feller's feed tastes a heap better than your own, an' this that you're offerin' me is, I take it, the cream o' the mountains, young William. A couple more o' them trout, if you don't mind, four or five more pounds o' that bear meat, an' a gallon o' coffee, if you've got it to spare. With them I think I kin make out. How are my mules gettin' on, Jim?"
"First rate. They've already introduced themselves to the horses, which have given their names, pedigrees and the stories of their lives. The mules also have furnished their histories, and, everybody being satisfied with everybody else's social station and past, they're now grazing together in perfect friendship, all six of 'em, just beyond that belt of woodland. And that being the case, I'll now give you the history of Will and myself, and I'll tell you about the biggest thing that we expect from the future."
"Go ahead," said the Little Giant, settling himself into a comfortable position.
CHAPTER IV THE FLIGHT
had no mean powers as a narrator. He did not speak at first of their own immediate search, but alluded to the great belief that gold was scattered all through the West, although it seldom had a trace or trail leading to it. Then he spoke of Clarke's father, and what he had discovered, returning soon afterward to the civil war, in which he had fallen.
The Little Giant's eyes brightened with the flame of pursuit as the hunter talked. He who had sought gold for so many years without finding a particle of it was seeing it now, in pockets, and in almost solid ledges, beyond anything he had ever dreamed. But when Boyd told of the officer's death on the battlefield he sighed deeply and his face clouded.