DEATH'S VALLEY

DEATH'S VALLEY;

OR,

THE GOLDEN BOULDER.

Years ago, even before what Californians understand to be the "early days," Dick Fielding was promoted to a captaincy in the United States Army.

Merry days were those, while he was stationed near the metropolitan city. Good pay, little work, brilliant parties to attend, and beautiful women to make love to. Love making seemed the natural element of the gay young captain, and thanks to his handsome face and shining epaulettes, he was very successful.

In this world our dear delights are but fleeting as the smiles of an April day—so thought poor Dick as he sat one morning about eleven o'clock at his luxurious breakfast, reading a dispatch from head-quarters that doomed him to the wilderness of Fort Tejon, far below the quaint old Spanish town of Los Angelos.

'Twas a sad day for the gallant young captain, but all his sighs and regrets were unavailing. There was no reprieve—orders must be obeyed. Fortunately Dick was of an elastic temperament, and the love of adventure and the charm of novelty which the new country possessed for him soon returned to him that zest for life which youth and health seldom entirely lose.

Southern California has a most generous climate, producing in the valleys the luxurious vegetation of the tropics, and on the hills and mountains the hardier products of the temperate zone.

Dick was a favorite among the officers, social and joyous in his disposition, he became the life of the garrison. He was a fine horseman, and often he would join a party of the Mexican rangers in their excursions, and ride for days over the beautiful country round Fort Tejon.

He could shoot an arrow very handsomely, and by his easy good nature he was soon on friendly terms with the Indians, who in that part of the country are so mixed with the native Californians or Mexicans that it is difficult to distinguish the races.

He became an expert in all the athletic sports of the country, but with all he could do, the monotony of a life at Fort Tejon was very wearisome to him; so when he found a beautiful young girl among the Indians, he plunged recklessly into his old habit, of love making; and in a few weeks he was domesticated in a little adobe house near the fort with his pretty Indian bride, who amused him for the time like any other novelty of the country.

She, poor simple child of the wild-wood, worshiped her handsome, blue-eyed husband, and thought his hair and beard had stolen their golden beauty from the glowing sunshine.

After a time a little one came to the cottage, and the young Indian mother was very happy in loving the father and child who made the wilderness a heaven for her.

Weeks, months, and years passed by, and Captain Fielding longed intensely to visit the gay world again. He had grown weary of his Indian wife, and his son in his eyes was only a young papoose, of whom he was very much ashamed.

At length the order came for his reprieve. He was summoned to return to the Atlantic States; but of this he said nothing to his wife. One bright spring morning he left her looking out after him from the door of the little adobe, holding her three-year old boy in her arms, smiling and telling him in her own soft language that dear papa would come back at evening.

The burning fingers of remorse pressed heavily upon the father's heart as he looked upon the pretty picture—but only for a moment. He turned away, saying with a sigh of relief: "She'll soon forget me, for some Indian Chief, perhaps," and was gone from her sight out into the distance, on toward the great busy world.

Night came on with its damps and darkness, wrapping the heart of the young wife in its shroud of shadows, never to be lifted till the brightness of the spirit land made glad morning shine about her.

Day by day she watched the shadows lengthen, hoping when the sun went down in the crimson west he would return; but the golden moonlight found her watching in vain, swaying her sleeping boy too and fro in her arms, and drearily singing the song of her heart, in a voice from which the gladness of hope was fast dying out.

She called him Dick, for his father, and with a perseverance which only deep love could give her, talked his father's language to him in her pretty, imperfect way.

The little one grew to be a strong, handsome boy, with a dark Spanish face, and eyes full of fire, or love as his mood moved them. In some things he was like his father; gay, dashing, and attractive in his disposition, he became a great favorite with the officers at Fort Tejon, who taught him to read and write and many other things, much to the delight of his mother, who would say with tears in her dark eyes: "If his father lives to return he will thank you better than I can."

In the spring she would say: "Before the orange-flowers ripen to golden fruit he will return," and in the autumn, "before the fair buds gladden the green hillsides he will be here!"

But springs and autumns passed, till the broken spirit, hopeless and weary with waiting, passed into the unknown future, and they buried her where the first rays of the morning sun fell upon the graveyard flowers.

Dick loved his mother fondly, and after she died he grew more wild and daring than ever, but with the undercurrent of his nature flowed all the subtle instinct of the Indian.

Often at Fort Tejon he heard of the great world far beyond the wilderness, and he learned that gold was the talisman that opened the gates of earthly paradise. So he said in his heart, "I will have gold!"

Young as he was and wild in his nature, he saw a witching paradise in the soft blue eyes and sunny curls of the Colonel's young daughter Madeline, but no one knew that he worshiped her, no one but God and his own heart.

Among the Indian and Spanish boys Dick was chief. To the lowliest he was gentle, to the proudest, superior, and by a wonderful magnetic power in one so young he bowed them all to his will. No one among them thought to question his bidding; he was the ruler, and without a thought they obeyed him. He could ride fearlessly the wildest horse, send the truest arrow from the bow, and laughed carelessly at danger as though he bore a charmed life.

One evening he lay upon the green grass before an Indian encampment, looking dreamily up at the great golden moon as it sailed along through the clear summer sky, surrounded by the paler light of the modest stars, and thinking how Madeline was like the moon, queen of all maidens.

The rest were beautiful, but in comparison with the sweet Madeline were but attendant lights. Then he thought of the great world where one day Madeline would shine fairest of the fair, and that before he could enter the charmed circle he must win the talisman that would give him every thing, but best of all, sweet Madeline.

Near him the Indian youths and maidens had gathered round an old man of their tribe, who was telling them the legend of the "Golden Boulder."

"Yes," said the old man, "white men would risk their lives for it, if they could only find the valley, but even the Indians except one tribe who make war upon all others, have lost trace of it; but there in the center rises a great round boulder, yellow as the full moon, all gold, pure gold!"

"Where?" cried Dick, springing with one bound into the circle. Then for the first time he listened to the old tradition of the Golden Boulder in Death's Valley.

"Far to the south," said the old Indian, "lies a country rich in gold and precious stones. The tribe who inhabits that region makes war with all who dare to cross the boundaries of their hunting-grounds. In some way they have become possessed of guns from which they shoot golden bullets with unerring precision.

"The country is shut in by mountains, and the great Colorado pours its waters through it. Far into the interior, deep down in the shadows, lies Death's Valley, and in its center rises the great Golden Boulder, and round it are scattered innumerable precious stones, whose brightness pierces the dusky shadows with their shining light."

The tradition came from an old man of the hostile tribe who many years ago was taken prisoner. Many adventurous Mexicans and Spaniards had sought Death's Valley, but none had ever returned from its shroud of shadows.

Dick listened to the story with deep attention. For days the thought of it pursued him, and at night when he closed his eyes the great round boulder of gold rose before him, and the glittering stones made the night shining as the day.

He could learn nothing more from the Indians than the old tradition, but every day he became more resolved, at any hazard, to win the great talisman, gold, which alone could open the door of happiness and greatness for him; even if he were obliged to seek it among the shadows in Death's Valley, he would win it.

It was the early days of February, which in Lower California is the spring time of the year. Golden oranges still hung upon the trees amid the shining leaves and snow-white flowers, the buds of promise for the coming year, while everywhere gorgeous flowers brightened the fragrant hillsides and dewy valleys.

Without a word of farewell to any one, Dick started out into the trackless wilderness alone, with only his rifle and a small hatchet to blaze the trees now and then. Guided by the Indian's unerring instinct, he reached the Colorado, strong and vigorous as when he left the neighborhood of Fort Tejon.

He had wanted for nothing; his trusty gun had supplied him with game, and the fruits of the wild-wood had furnished him dessert. Thus alone in the luxuriance of that sunny clime he wandered for days, but still no trace of the valley, or the Golden Boulder; but he was not disheartened.

Day and night, the gorgeous imagery that decked the future, gathered round him. As the reward of all this toil and lonely wanderings, he saw his golden hopes fulfilled, and the sunny curls of the Colonel's daughter resting upon his bosom. For this hope more than all others he labored on.

It was the close of an excessively hot day. The dewy coolness of evening was delightful to the weary gold-seeker, and he threw himself down upon his couch of leaves, under the shadow of the forest trees, thinking the way was long and weary, and feeling the desolation of the solitary wilderness, casting its long shadows upon his heart.

But toil, is the mother of forgetfulness, and sleep was casting its drowsy mantle over his saddened musings, when his quick ear, detected a sound like a light, but rapid, footstep among the dried leaves. Nearer and nearer it came, snapping the brittle twigs that covered the ground.

He hastily concealed himself, and waited in almost breathless stillness the approach of wild beasts, or wilder Indians.

A moment more, and a young Indian girl appeared, bearing upon her head a birchen bucket. Light and graceful, with the freedom of the woods, she walked along until she came to a clear spring, and bending over, she filled her bucket with the pure fresh water.

Just then, a rare cluster of flowers attracted her eye, and with a maiden's love of the beautiful, she stopped to gather it, then poising her bucket upon her head, she would have started for the encampment, but she was fastened spell-bound to the spot, by an unconquerable terror.

Just opposite, and crouched ready to spring upon her, she saw a huge panther, his large eyes, like great balls of fire, glaring out from the intense shadow, already devoured her. She was paralyzed by an intense terror. The fearful eyes fascinated and bewildered her. In them she saw the frail bridge, that separated her from the spirit land.

She could not move, or utter a sound. The panther crouched lower among the tangled grass. A moment more, and he would spring upon her. The stream was drawing nearer, the bridge was shorter, from those fearful eyes, she could see the gleaming of the lights of spirit land, then a flash! a sharp report of the rifle, and the panther sprang into the air, and fell at the feet of the affrighted maiden!

She lived! but the waters of the spring were glowing red and warm with the lifeblood of the terrible beast. His glowing eyes grew dim and sightless, in the river of death, and in its place, to her sight appeared the handsome young gold-seeker.

With all her intense emotion, she was calm, as only an Indian maiden could be, but a deep glowing flush burned through the darkness of her cheek, as with timid grace, she gave her hand to her deliverer, and through the dusk of evening led him to the encampment, and to the chieftain, her father.

There was great excitement in the encampment when they saw the young girl returning with a stranger. Fiercely the Indians of the hostile tribe gathered round them, for the girl clung tremblingly to his hand, and by the fitful firelight he saw the dark scowls of passion gathering upon their faces, yet a thrill of joy filled his heart, he now knew he was by the camp-fire of the wild tribe of whom nothing was known, save their uncompromising cruelty, and that with them rested the secret of Death's Valley, the great Golden Boulder, and the glittering stones.

He had saved their chieftain's daughter, and they would not harm him, for well he knew the power of gratitude upon the savage heart. Calm and resolute he stood among them, without the shadow of a fear darkening his face, until he saw the fierce fires of cruelty that shot from their wild eyes soften into the kindly light of gratitude and friendship, as the young girl told her story with all the pathos and ardor which the almost miraculous escape, had awakened in her heart.

The old chief loved his daughter with a savage intensity. She was all the Great Spirit had left him, of many sons and daughters, and he felt that he would be ready to battle with death itself, but he could not give up his only child.

There was a mist over his fierce eyes, and a trembling about his cruel heart, as he bade the stranger a kindly welcome, who but for his good fortune in saving the girl, would have been condemned to a torturing death, unheard of.

So it was at last by this unforeseen accident, that the young gold-seeker slept peacefully by the smouldering camp-fire of the most cruel, relentless, tribe of the Colorado, and dreamed of his blue-eyed darling, far away over the desert waste, safely sheltered in Fort Tejon.

The morning dawned rich with the glowing warmth of a Southern climate, and though our young hero woke early, he was wearied from long travel, and lay for some time with half-closed eyes, lazily watching the Indians as they busied themselves about the encampment.

He was thinking how he should turn the advantage he had gained to the furtherance of his plans, when suddenly he felt, more than saw, that dark, jealous eyes were upon him. He feigned to be sleeping, while by a stolen glance he understood every thing.

The tall, stalwart, young Indian, who bent over him with dark, knitted brows and flashing eyes, loved the girl whom he had saved, and was already his enemy, and one not to be scorned, as his proud bearing, and the deference shown him by others attested. That he was in danger, Dick realized; yet he rose with a free and careless manner, greeting the young men with a smile, which was returned.

"Worse than I supposed," he said to himself; "treachery! but they shall not find me unprepared!"

The old chief and his daughter treated him with marked kindness, and he, by his modesty and pleasantry, tried to make friends among the young men.

After breakfast preparations were made for a hunt, and Dick was furnished with a fresh horse, and invited to join the company.

The day was warm and sultry, and, toward evening, the hunters, in starting for the camp, became scattered, and, on entering the shadows of a deep ravine, Dick found himself surrounded by five of the strongest young men, and, prominent among them, his enemy.

In an instant of time his hands were pinioned, and he was ordered to prepare for death. Looking calmly upon the dark, scowling faces around him, he said: "I am ready, only I would make one request of Tolume (his enemy), 'tis this; that if in his wanderings he should ever reach Fort Tejon, he would bear a message for me to the woman I love."

The face of Tolume brightened, and he ordered the prisoner unbound, and leading him to a mossy stone, listened to the story of his love for the fair, blue-eyed maiden, of Fort Tejon, and of all his hopes and plans, till the sun went down and the silver moon looked into the ravine.

Tolume was jealous no longer; so they became friends, and after listening to the story of Death's Valley and the great Golden Boulder, he promised to go with Dick in search of it.

Nothing was said on their return to the camp of the closing event of the day's hunt, but Dick saw with great satisfaction, that his new friend and the dark-eyed girl he had saved from death, were again mutually happy.

Indians generally care but little for gold, but this tribe had mingled enough with the Spaniards to know something of its value; so the young Indian was very ready to accompany Dick in his adventures, and to accede to all his proposals, for he soon learned to look upon our hero as a superior being.

"To-night," whispered Dick, as he passed carelessly by the young Indian, "when the moon rises above the mountain-tops, we will start."

The Indian bowed assent, and looked fondly upon the young girl he must leave, and whom he loved with all the fierceness of his wild nature.

During the afternoon he told her he was going away for a short time, but would return bringing her beautiful feathers, embroidered moccasins, strings of shining beads, and all that the heart of a pretty Indian girl could desire. Then they parted, as all lovers part, with mingled hopes and fears.

When the moon rose clear and bright, casting its soft, mellow light over the glowing landscape, the young men met silently upon the brow of the hill, and started upon their journey.

They were well equipped with guns and ammunition. Each had a good horse, and as much food as they could carry; the only thing they had to fear was lack of water and hostile Indians.

For two days they traveled on without encountering any difficulty; but on the third they entered a dry, waste tract of country entirely destitute of vegetation.

The ground was covered with a formation of salt and soda, and when the wind blew it nearly suffocated them.

"This must be Death's Valley," said Dick, as they rode on, talking cheerfully, looking carefully for any signs of gold. By noon they began to feel very thirsty, but there was no water, no cooling spring in all the vast desert spread out before them.

The burning rays of the noontide sun seemed to dry up their blood, and their tongues were parched and feverish, but there was no shelter; no water. Heat, thirst, and travel began to tell upon their horses, so they dismounted, and led them by the bridle, till night came on, finding them weary and faint, and, above all, perishing with thirst. Their fevered tongues began to swell, and it seemed as though the salt dust permeated their whole bodies; but they dare not stop, even for a moment, they were dying of thirst, and there was no water.

At last the clear, full moon rose over the desert waste of Death's Valley and over the wayworn prospectors. They thought no more of gold, only of water—clear, cool, bubbling water.

It seemed to Dick as though he could hear the murmuring of the brook that rippled by the cottage of his childhood home, near Fort Tejon.

He walked along, every moment growing more hopeless, when suddenly he saw something bright and shining on the ground. It was a curious bow and quiver ornamented with little bells of silver and gold.

"Some one has been here, and only a short time ago, or the wind would have swept away the track," said Dick, as he bent down and examined a footprint upon the ground. "'Tis too small for a man," he said. "'Tis very strange."

Then he gave a loud shout, and they both listened eagerly, till they heard a low faint voice in reply, and, looking around, they saw by the clear moonlight an odd little figure trying in vain to rise from the ground. The young men hastened to his assistance, and found a queer, little dwarf, with a long grey beard reaching nearly to his feet.

"Give me water!" said the man. "My horse has thrown me, and all day long I have lain here in the burning sun, too weak to move, for I am dying of thirst! Oh give me water, only a drop of water!"

"No water! No water!" cried Dick, in despair. "We, too, are famishing for want of it! We must on, we have not a moment to lose, or we shall die here in the desert."

"Do not leave me," cried the little man. "I can show you water, but I cannot move!" So they placed him upon one of the horses, and he pointed out the way.

Dick would have thrown aside the bow and quiver, but as he looked at the curious little being beside him, quaint old Indian traditions came to his mind.

"This bow may serve me yet," he said, as he secured it to his leather belt. "Who knows but it belongs to one of the dwarf treasure-guard of the valley."

All night they traveled on and till nearly noon the next day, when a little green spot in the desert's sand met their sight. The horses snuffed the refreshing smell of water, and horses and men, faint, weary, and famishing, exerting all their strength started on the full run for the blessed Eden before them, and soon sank down upon the soft green grass by the side of a clear, bubbling spring.

"Now I will leave you," said the little man. "Give me my bow and quiver. We are even, I showed you the water, and you brought me to it."

"Not quite so fast, my little friend," said Dick. "Before I give you the bow and quiver, or permit you to leave us, you must lead us to the treasure of the valley, then furnish us with a guide, two good mules, and as much of the treasure as we can carry away."

"I accede to your proposition on one condition! Never attempt to point out the treasure to any one, or to return to it yourself. If you do, death will swiftly follow, and the treasure you shall carry away will be lost to you and your family for ever."

So they gave the promise he required, and as they were very tired they concluded to wait till morning and made their frugal supper under the trees, drinking plentifully of the clear, delicious water; and slept peacefully till morning.

The little gray man woke them early. "Come," he said. "The sun is rising, we must away." So they arose, and taking a drink of water and eating a tortilla, started.

For some hours they traveled on in the pleasant morning air, and just as the sun was beginning to be scorching in its heat they entered a deep ravine, and there they saw the wonderful Golden Boulder, and countless precious stones, and nuggets of bright yellow gold scattered round it upon the shining sand.

Dick and his companions, were bewildered by the glittering spectacle, and a thousand glowing visions filled their minds. The little gray man blew a shrill whistle. Another little gray man appeared, and bowing low, said humbly:—

"What is the will of the master?"

"Food and drink!" answered the master.

The slave prepared a more comfortable meal than the young men had enjoyed since they left the encampment, and they ate heartily while the slave served them.

When they had eaten, the chief ordered the slave to lade the mules with treasure and conduct the young men to the confines of the valley.

Then Dick returned the bow and quiver to the gray chief, and bid him good-by.

"Never forget your promise, or beware!" said the gray man, as they turned away, and looking back they saw in the distance the last of the little man with up-raised fingers.

"He is saying again beware!" said Dick, laughing. How they went, neither of the young men could tell, but in a wonderfully short time they were out of Death's Valley. The Indian returned to his tribe, but Dick, with a happy heart, started for Fort Tejon, and after a speedy and safe journey he reached his early home.

It soon became rumored about, that he was the richest young man in the whole country. In a short time, poor Dick, the half-breed, was forgotten, but every one courted Don Richard Fielding, the rich and elegant Spanish gentleman.

There was a great feast made at the fort, when Don Richard was united in the "holy bonds of matrimony" with the Colonel's lovely daughter, and never was man more happy than he, when he led his golden-haired bride through the halls of his pleasant mansion.

"We will travel by-and-by, love," he whispered. "But first we will rest and be happy in our own dear home!"