The Cave by the Beech Fork: A Story of Kentucky-1815

"No wonder this river is called the Beech Fork," said Owen, as he rested his trusty rifle by his side and pointed toward the thickly-clustered beech-trees, which skirted the banks of a small stream.

"See, too, how close they are to the water's edge; they have taken the place of the sycamore and willow," said his companion, Martin Cooper, at the same time seating himself upon the trunk of a fallen tree and looking in the direction indicated.

"But do you notice anything peculiar about those beech-trees?" asked Owen.

"Yes; they have long, slender branches."

"And the leaves-see how green they are, while the others are beginning to fade."

Beautiful, indeed, was the scene before them! The myriad leaves of the underbrush and the lofty canopies of the trees were dyed with all the varied colors of an autumn day. Even the thistle, when sheltered by some impending bough, retained its rose-pink bloom. Patches of sumac nestling close to the ledge of rocks, where larger growth could not survive for want of moisture, raised their cones of crimson berries; the sour-gum was laden with clusters of purple fruit as tempting to the eye as the most delicious grapes; the hickories were conspicuous by their russet foliage; the deep-lobed leaves of the white-oak were burning with fiery red; the ash-trees, scattered here and there, were robed in garments of purest saffron: only the beech-trees remained unchanged by the autumn frosts, for their small, serrate leaves were as green and glossy as during the summer months. Beech, beech, beech; who could number them? Here nature seemed to have prepared for them a paradise. Other trees grew there only to bring out by contrast the boundless, unbroken forest of beech-trees.

"The old forest is a fine place during this month," said Martin. "Still, I prefer not to spend the night here. Let us start home, for it is getting late."

"I should like to have at least one shot at a turkey before we go," replied Owen. "Say, Frisk," he continued, addressing a bird-dog which was enjoying a good rest at the side of his master, "old fellow, can't you find a turkey for us? Why don't you work as Bounce does? Hear how he is barking and chasing that rabbit."

He had scarcely uttered these words when both boys were startled by a sudden noise. The leaves rustled, the underbrush of the woods separated and a large deer bounded past them. Each sprang for his rifle but it was too late; before either could fire, the coveted prize disappeared behind a ledge of rocks.

As they stood there, rifle in hand, they were, in dress at least, perfect types of western huntsmen, though neither had seen his sixteenth year. Owen Howard's entire outfit was in harmony with the wild and rugged scenes around him. His gray trousers made of coarse home-spun cloth, his deer-skin hunting jacket, his fox-skin cap and sturdy moccasins, all bespoke a life far removed from the busy scenes and worldly comforts of town or city. He had a bright, piercing eye, a countenance frank and winning, a voice as clear and musical as the call of the meadow-lark. He was as nimble as a squirrel. There was about his whole person an air of singular freedom, and every part of his well-shaped frame was perfectly developed by continued though not overtasking labor.

The friend who stood beside him was dressed in the same unique hunter's costume. He appeared less active, but more robust than his companion. His face was ruddy, round, and freckled; his long, unkempt hair fell in reddish clusters from beneath his hunting cap. A look of thoughtful earnestness was stamped upon his features as he stood and gazed at the place where the deer had disappeared.

"Probably it'll cross Rapier's Ford," said Owen, recovering from his surprise. "It has been a favorite crossing for them of late. There's no harm in trying. I would walk a week for a shot at that fellow."

"All right. Let us hurry on fast," said Martin.

So the two pushed on at a brisk rate toward the ford about a mile below. They posted themselves so as to cover the narrow path which approached the river, and waited in true huntsman-like silence. An hour passed, and no sound of the faithful dog could be heard. At last, far over the hills his bark was faintly audible. Then the alarm became louder, and a slight click of their rifles showed that the boys were preparing to give the deer a warm welcome. If it was far ahead of the hound, as usually happened, it might rush by them at any moment. Suddenly their attention was drawn to a spot by the rustling of leaves, and peering from behind the trees they saw a large turkey-gobbler, strutting along wholly unconscious of the danger near at hand. What a fine mark it made as it strolled deliberately by with its head erect and wings arched! Owen was the first to see it and raised his rifle to fire; but as Martin signed to him to wait he lowered his rifle and let the turkey pass by. Judging from the barking of the dog, the deer was making for the ford. Owen felt comforted for the loss of the turkey, for if the deer passed between them one or the other would certainly bring it down.

"How I would like to wring the neck off that turkey!" muttered Martin to himself, for the gobbler persisted in remaining within rifle-shot, scratching among the dry leaves, and making as much noise as a whole flock of turkeys.

The boys were disappointed in their expectations, for the deer changed its course, and again left the river. Another hour passed, and the deep shades of the forest cast a gloom on all around.

"Helloo, there, Owen!" shouted Martin, emerging from his place of concealment, and stretching his cramped limbs. No answer came, so he called again in a still louder voice: "Helloo, there, Owen! Wake up, and let us move; it's getting dark."

Still no answer came.

"Owen! Owen!" he called, walking toward the place where his companion had waited. Not finding him, Martin took the horn which hung at his side and was about to raise it to his mouth, when he heard the report of Owen's rifle. The latter had given up all hope of killing the deer, and had crept cautiously away in quest of the gobbler. He had just caught sight of it in the thick underbrush, but the woods were now so dark that his aim was not true.

"We are in a pretty plight," said Owen as Martin approached. "Hunting all day, and nothing to show for our work but a few squirrels."

"Yes!" assented Martin. "And it's seven miles home-dark, too; in half an hour we won't be able to see ten steps ahead. We stayed at the ford too long; there is no going home to-night, and that is all about it. Why, an Indian would get lost a night like this. We must stay here; it won't be the first night we have slept on the banks of the Beech Fork."

"That's all right for the summer," argued Owen. "But remember that it's October now, and the nights are frosty."

"What's to be done?" asked Martin, glancing anxiously around the dark forest.

"I really don't know. But I do know one thing: I am tired and hungry."

"Let us stay here. We won't starve. We'll have the squirrels for supper."

"Then we'll stay. Squirrels for supper, a soft bed of leaves, and a fire to drive away the frost. What else does a fellow want?"

"I'll bring Bounce to the camp," said Martin, blowing a loud blast on his horn.

A deep bark answered the echoes, and soon the faithful dog stood panting at the side of the young huntsmen.

"Why didn't you bring the deer this way, old fellow?" asked Owen.

Bounce shook his head, as if to say that he did his best, but could not succeed.

"Well, come on. You've worked hard, and shall have a good supper," said Martin, as the two boys set to work to prepare for the evening meal.

A large pile of wood was collected, and a fire was started against the trunk of a beech, which stretched its thick branches on all sides, forming a natural tent. Martin constructed two cups with the leaves of a paw-paw-tree, and filled them with clear water from a brook near at hand. Owen had the squirrels dressed in a jiffy. One was suspended over the fire by a green twig, while the other was wrapped in damp paper and placed under the live coals to roast. Thus, two different dishes were prepared from the same meat. They had also some dry bread left from their luncheon. Uninviting as their repast may seem to some, to them it was more savory than the most tempting viands, having, as it did, the true Spartan seasoning. Bounce and Frisk were not forgotten. They shared in the day's spoil, and gnawed at the bones until far into the night.

Owen and Martin now collected a large heap of leaves before the fire, and placed their rifles near by in readiness to receive any wildcat which chanced to be attracted by the light.

Their last and most important duty was that which every Christian performs before retiring to rest. Our young friends had pious parents; they had lived in an atmosphere of simple but deep faith, and would have considered it almost a crime to neglect their morning or evening prayers. There, then, they prayed; at night, and in the stillness of a forest, where giant trees stretched out their branches like the arches of some great cathedral, and where all around was hushed in holy silence.

"I do believe it's going to rain," said Martin, catching a glimpse of the clouds through a rift in the trees as he lay down upon his rustic bed.

"Why didn't I think of it before? I-I don't see how I forgot it-I intended to tell you about it-and it is not a mile away," muttered Owen in a half audible tone.

"What are you saying? Are you dreaming?" asked Martin.

"I was talking about a cave which I found last month when chasing a 'coon-a big one, too."

"What, the 'coon?"

"No! the cave. If it rains to-night I'll take you there. It's better than a log-house."

"Perhaps it is the one that Mr. Rapier told me about the other day," said Martin. "It's in this neighborhood, but no one knows the exact spot. Long ago, even before Daniel Boone came to Kentucky, the Indians used to live in it during the hunting season."

"Are there two large rocks before it?" inquired Owen, raising himself up to a sitting posture and staring at Martin with evident interest.

"Let me see; I believe he said something about two rocks. Now I recollect; there were two large rocks, one on each side."

"That's the place; and if the rain doesn't drive us there to-night, we'll see it to-morrow morning."

Owen then lay down again, and was soon fast asleep, dreaming that he discovered an immense cave, whose entrance was guarded by two dogs as large as the two rocks which he had seen. His dream was scarcely more wonderful than the wonders which that cave really contained.

* * *

It was far into the night when the boys awoke. The fire had burned low, and the rain which had been falling for an hour began to penetrate their leafy canopy.

"Owen! Owen!" cried Martin, the first to awake, "it's raining."

Owen was stiff from the chilly night air. He rubbed his eyes and stretched his limbs for some minutes before he realized his situation.

"Wake up! wake up!" Martin remonstrated, at the same time throwing a handful of damp leaves into the sleeper's face as an additional inducement. "You had better take me to that wonderful cave," continued he.

"I dreamt about the place," said Owen, who was now fully awake, "and that the two rocks had been turned into dogs."

"You must have been enjoying your dream, for I thought you would never wake up. I was just going to put a little fire into your moccasins," replied Martin.

"That would have brought me in quick time, for a fellow can't sleep and be roasted at the same time. But come, let us start. It's pretty dark, and I'll have to turn Indian to find the cave a night like this."

"Keep your weather-eye open, Bounce," said Martin, turning toward the dog. "Our rifles are damp. If there is a wildcat in the neighborhood, you must do the fighting. Do you hear, old fellow?"

Bounce shook his head as if to say there was no danger while in his company.

After plodding along and elbowing their way through the damp bushes, the boys reached a hill which ran along the bank of the river for many miles, rising at times to the height of some three hundred feet. Carefully they clambered up toward the two giant rocks which could scarcely be discerned in the gloom, Bounce occasionally giving a low growl of alarm as they approached.

Again and again they stopped and listened, but nothing could be seen or heard. They therefore concluded that it was only a fresh trail, and that the animal itself was not near.

"I tell you it's dark," said Martin, who was the first to pass between the two immense rocks into the cavern.

"Dark as a dungeon," replied Owen in a tone of voice that showed he was not exactly pleased with the situation.

"All we need is a little fire to make things look home-like," said Martin, at the same time searching for some dry wood.

As no wood could be found the boys were forced to remain in the dark cave. Crouched together in a dry corner they tried to sleep, but could not. Bounce continued to growl, and, since he never gave a false alarm, they did not feel perfectly at ease. A strange and subdued sound seemed to issue from the crevices of the rocks. Both boys listened, yet neither spoke. Was it the dripping of the water from the damp arches above? What could it be?

"Didn't you hear something?" asked Martin.

"I thought so," replied Owen, "but, when I listened again, I heard nothing except the dripping water."

Here their conversation was interrupted by a low growl from Bounce.

"Something is wrong," said Martin. "I can't sleep here without a fire. Let us look for wood again."

As they groped around in the dark searching for wood, Martin slipped, and at the same time grasped the side of the cave to prevent his falling. The huge rock yielded, and opened like the massive door of some great dungeon, disclosing a lurid light farther in the cave.

"Heavens! what is this?" gasped the boy, losing his hold and letting the rock swing back to its former position.

"A robbers' den," whispered Owen, trembling with fright. "They have not seen us; let us get away as fast as we can."

Fortunately, the dogs did not bark. The boys would have left the place unobserved, had not a man met them at the entrance.

"Who are you?" demanded he, in a gruff voice.

"Two boys; we were overtaken by the night, and had to sleep in the woods. It commenced to rain, and we came here for shelter," said Owen.

"Youngster, don't tell me a lie! Is there no one around here except yourselves?"

"No, sir! No one!"

"How-a-did you come to know about this cave?" asked the man in a milder but hesitating way.

"I found it one day when I was out hunting," answered Owen.

"I found it in the same way," said the man. "The rain drove me in here, too. It isn't a very good place to sleep, still we'll have to hold out here until morning; so just lie down, boys, and try to take a rest."

"No, sir!" said Martin, looking toward the place where the big door had opened. "We are going to leave this cave immediately. It's a robbers' den or it's haunted."

"What! What did you say!" demanded the man, all his former gruffness immediately returning.

"Robber's den! haunted!" stammered Martin, excitedly. "There's a big door to the left. I opened it and saw a light."

"You did? You did? You saw a light in there?" growled the man. "Then, boys, you have seen too much to leave here until I let you go. Don't try to run away, or I'll kill both of you!" and he emphasized his threat with an oath, at the same time swinging open the door and ordering the boys to go into the inner part of the cave.

They obeyed tremblingly, and saw the rock door locked behind them.

"Now, boys," said the man, "this isn't a robbers' den. It isn't haunted, either. If you sit down there and keep perfectly quiet, I won't hurt you. But if you don't do as I tell you, you'll get into trouble." With these words he left them, and passing through another door went farther into the cave.

Our two young hunters were so frightened that neither spoke for some time.

By the flickering light of a fire which had been kindled in the center of the chamber they could examine their dingy prison. It was more than eight feet high and twenty feet long, with solid rock walls and incipient stalactites projecting from above. Skins of minks, foxes, raccoons and wildcats were stretched on forked staves the full length of the cave; and from their variety and number one would infer that he was in the rude home of a trapper. Nothing else was visible, not even a rough bench or a bed of straw. No doubt the occupant of this mysterious cave had other apartments connected with this one.

Martin was the first to break the awful silence.

"What a fool I was," gasped he, "for telling him-about that door."

"Well, it's too late to cry about it now," replied Owen. "Are you much frightened?"

"Why-I was so scared-that I thought-I should never recover-my power of speech."

"My heart stopped beating."

"If mine stopped-it is making up for it now. It isn't beating-it's hammering."

"I must confess that I don't feel very brave just at present," said Owen, trying at the same time to force a laugh.

"I only wish we had Bounce in here with us," replied Martin.

"Yes, I am never lonesome in the woods when I have him with me. But, say, Mart! did you notice that when the man left us, he opened another door there to the right, and that there was another light farther in the cave?"

"No; are you sure?"

Owen was about to answer, when the door in question was swung aside, and the man entered, wearing a mask and carrying a bright torch.

"Well, boys," said he, "I see you didn't try to run away. I've been thinking the matter over, and have come to the conclusion that I'll let you go. Of course, you'll have to promise not to say anything about the cave."

"We'll promise that," said Owen.

"And you will have to keep the promise."

"Oh, we'll do that, too," replied Martin.

"Glad to see you so willing; but we'll settle the whole matter in the morning. Don't be afraid, I am not going to hurt you. Lie down and try to rest until I come back. The ground is a little hard, it is true, but it is dry; and there is no danger of catching cold."

He extinguished the few smouldering coals in the middle of the cave, where a fire had previously been kept burning to dry the skins. After again admonishing the boys not to move, he took his torch and departed, leaving them in utter darkness.

* * *

Walter Stayford was not the sole occupant of that mysterious cave; he had a companion with him by the name of Jerry. The two men lived in a hut, about three miles from the cave, and passed for trappers. They were well known to all the neighbors, and were both musicians, and often supplied the music for rural dances and picnics. Jerry especially was sought for, and it was considered a privilege to have the jolly big fiddler on the music stand. Whenever he was to play, a special mention of the fact was found in all the notices which announced the dance itself.

On such occasions his big, round face was one perpetual smile, his fiddle seemed fairly to talk, and so much did he add to the pleasure that he received the appellation of "Jolly Jerry." The two trappers spent weeks and months in the cave and accounted for their protracted absence from their home by pretending that they had gone on long hunting expeditions into the central part of the State. Every spring they went south on one of the many flat-boats or rafts, which carried the products of Kentucky to the ports along the southern parts of the Mississippi. There was a third man, who frequently visited the cave, and who was more directly interested in its secret than either Stayford or Jerry. His two friends generally called him "Tom, the Tinker."

As the night gradually wore away, the three men were seated around a dim fire, warmly discussing the fate of the two boys.

"Shoot 'em! shoot 'em," demanded Tom, the Tinker.

"If you two don't do it, I will! They must not leave this cave!"

"Tom, you is drunk or crazy!" said Jerry. "Shoot two boys for a little chink; never! Not for this cave full of gold and whisky!"

"No one can find it out," replied the Tinker. "People will think that they were drowned, that they shot each other, or that something else happened to them."

"I'll do anything but kill," said Stayford; "that I'll never do. I once knew a murderer who was haunted by a ghost day and night. Besides, what good would it do?"

"It'll save this cave and everything in it!" said the Tinker; "besides, those boys are Catholics! I hate them!"

"Tom!" cried Stayford, jumping to his feet, "don't say anything against the Catholics around here, or I'll make you swallow one of these red-hot coals. I'm a Catholic, or I should be one. Yes! I-I am one, and don't you say anything against them!"

Tom was silent.

Stayford looked at him defiantly, and continued, "I told you before, Tom, not to run down the Catholics, and if you do so again you've got to take back your words, or whip Walter Stayford!"

"Darn my buttons!" interposed Jerry. "Here you is fighting again. I'll club both of you until you feel like wild cats under a dead-fall if you keep on fighting. I reckon we'll turn the boys loose, and--"

"Be ruined, robbed, sent to jail!" interrupted Tom.

"If you want to lose every cent you has, Tom, and be hauled off to Louisville and hung, just kill them boys! Just kill them, and you'll have every man in the country on the trail, like so many hounds, and they'll follow us up till we're caught!"

"Yes," chimed in Stayford, "and you'll have these holes full of ghosts."

"And if you'd bury them a thousand miles deep, they'd be found. They'd come up to the top to tell on us somehow, darn if they wouldn't," said Jerry.

"But boys can't keep secrets!" argued Tom.

"I reckon they can, if we do it this here way. Let 'em know that we are on to 'em, and if ever they says one word about this here cave, we'll burn their father's houses, and play thunder in general. I reckon that'll fetch 'em."

"Well, Jerry," said Tom, "it would be pretty hard to kill two boys for such a small thing. I don't like your plans, but you have been as sly as a red fox since we started in the business, and if you haven't lost your senses, I know you will run things all right."

Tom became himself again as soon as he was convinced that his money was safe. His last words on leaving the cave at break of day were: "Run it well, Jerry! run it well!"

"Yes, run it well," repeated Stayford, as the Tinker closed the door and left him alone with Jerry. "We've done all the running. Tom couldn't have done it by himself. You have done the scheming-I helped, and the old miser has made the money; that's the only thing I hate about it."

"And we ain't stored away much," said Jerry.

"No! I am tired of working for the old miser; but I'll stand by you, Jerry. You have always stood by me and helped me, and I'll stand by you."

"I reckon we had better shake on that, Stayford. You is for a fact the bestest friend I ever had. Walter Stayford never went back on nobody."

"I never went back on a friend, Jerry, but I did go back on my Church, and I've been thinking of it ever since I don't know when."

"Don't get chicken-hearted; when you are old and about to kick the bucket, I reckon you can make it all right. You see, foxes don't start to run till they hear the dogs."

"That's the reason the fools are caught-and you want me to do the same with the devil."

"No! Stayford, keep away from him. I never seen him, but they say he's not good company."

Jerry then set to work to prepare breakfast for the boys. He had been his own cook for twenty years, and could get ready a repast on short notice. The breakfast on this occasion consisted of fried rabbit, johnny-cake and rye-coffee.

In the meantime, Stayford took a torch and went in to arouse the boys. He found them sleeping soundly.

"Now, boys," said he, awakening them, "I am going to set you free. But first I want to show you the size of this cave, and then, while you are eating your breakfast, I'll tell you why I have shown it to you. Did you have a good rest?"

"Yes, sir," replied Owen. "Almost as well as if I was at home."

"We agreed to keep awake," said Martin, "and then it seemed to me that I dozed off and you came in and called us immediately."

"Oh, no!" said Stayford. "It has been over four hours since I left you. I was afraid that you would not be able to sleep, because I frightened you so much by my cursing and so on. You see, boys, I was very mad when you told me that you had seen inside of the cave. But it is all right; so don't get scared any more. Now, I'll show you the size of this place. It would take a whole day to see all of it. I only want to show you a few ways I have of getting in and out."

Leading from the interior of the cave to the chamber where the boys had spent the night there were two passages; one was in the center just opposite to the rock door through which Stayford had introduced his frightened prisoners, and the other to the right of this latter entrance. Through this second opening Stayford passed with the two boys. To let them enter the first passage would reveal the secret he wished to conceal from them.

The part of the cave through which the boys were led appeared a little world in itself. Sometimes they were forced to stoop or crawl along, and then they were suddenly ushered into a spacious apartment, whose size was magnified a hundred-fold in the dim, uncertain light of the smoky torch. How dreamy and ghost-like it seemed! Strange, weird shadows flitted silently along the uneven walls, then suddenly disappeared, as if affrighted by this unwelcome intrusion of beings of flesh and blood.

"Wait a moment and I'll let a little light into the cave," said Stayford, passing before a large flat rock, which he began to remove from its place by means of a lever. Several smaller stones were then thrust aside, and the light of day burst in upon the young prisoners.

"Look!" cried Owen. "The sun is shining."

"Can't we go out this way?" asked Martin, stooping down and peering out into the bright forest.

"Not unless you wish to break your necks, for the hill outside is perpendicular and fully twenty feet high. Besides, I want to show you another way I have of getting in and out of the cave. Afterward you must look down into the 'bottomless hole'; that's what we call it. It runs right through the world to China."

"There," he continued, after walking but a few feet. "If you fall into that well you'll land in kingdom come."

The boys approached the place cautiously. Before them they saw a round opening about six feet in diameter, which appeared to be the work of man-a dark, cylindrical passage cut through the solid, limestone floor, a portal black and forbidding that led to the abodes of endless night. Yet it was formed by the hand of Nature; when or how no mortal could tell.

"Listen, boys, listen!" Into the hole Stayford threw a large stone.

It rasped against the walls of projecting rocks. It bounded from side to side, while the vaults above moaned with the prolongation of repeated echoes.

"Down!" Stayford paused.

"Down-n-n!" Silence again.

Owen held his breath.

"Down! down-n-n-n!"

Martin grew dizzy and unconsciously grasped the hand of his companion.

"Down! still, still falling," whispered Stayford, as the noise grew fainter and the echoes ceased. From the seemingly immeasurable depths below came sharp, quick notes like the tick of a clock; then silence, stillness-strange, oppressive, deathlike.

In his pocket Stayford had carried several stones of different sizes. These he cast into the hole at intervals, the larger first and then the smaller. The effect was most deceptive. The boys really imagined that they heard the single stone falling many hundred yards below.

But all the wonders of the cave had not yet been seen.

Passing on to another room, which seemed to be the largest which they had yet entered, the guide again paused, and grasped a large grape vine, which hung from the ceiling.

"See this vine," said he; "I'll give it a slight jerk; now watch what happens." He pulled the vine slowly. At the same time a huge oak beam was gradually rolled to one side, leaving an opening five feet high and nearly three feet broad.

"This is my work," continued Stayford; "look at it carefully, boys, and you will see how nicely it is balanced. Three men could not lift this beam, and still I can swing it around with one hand. But I have showed you enough; let us go back to the place where we started. In ten minutes you will be on the road home."

"Why don't you let us out here?" asked Owen.

"Then you would know two ways of getting into the cave; as it is, you will not be able to find this door again."

Stayford pretended to lead the boys by a different way, but in reality he took them over the same ground, passing through one of the apartments three times. This Owen and Martin could not observe, for their torch gave scarcely sufficient light to secure a safe footing.

On reaching the place where they had spent the night, the boys were again ordered by their guide to wait, while he went to bring them the frugal breakfast which had been prepared for them. After they had satisfied their appetites, they followed Stayford out of the cave. Here they found Bounce and Frisk, who wagged their tails and barked with evident joy at the sight of their masters.

Stayford had put on his mask again, so that his features were entirely concealed. "Boys," said he, "you are now free; but before you go, listen to what I say to you. In the first place, I know both of you. This is Owen Howard; this is Martin Cooper. I know where you live; I even know Father Byrne, who goes to Owen's house to say Mass. I am not a robber, I never hurt any one. You see, I found this cave, and want to make some money on it by charging people for going through it. The land around here belongs to old Louis Bowen; and if ever he finds out about the cave, he'll not sell. After I have bought the property, then you can tell everybody in the State, but until that time you must keep it secret. Keep it secret! a dead, dead secret! not a word! not a word about it to any one! If you do-if you do-I'll, I'll hurt you, kill you, burn your father's houses. I am not a bad man, I am not a mean man, but this is the only way I have of making a living, and you must not spoil it on me. I have been half starving myself here for a long time, trapping and working around to make enough money to buy the land. I have shown you how large the cave is, and how many ways I have of getting in and out to let you know that no one can catch me. If old Bowen comes around here I'll know that you told. So remember now; a dead, dead secret until you hear that I have bought the cave. It may be ten years before I can buy it; then I'll let everybody know about it."

Without waiting for an answer, without a parting word, he waved his hand and disappeared in the cave.

Owen and Martin, as soon as they had recovered from their surprise, shouldered their rifles and started homeward.

* * *