The Go Ahead Boys and Simon's Mine

"Look at that!"

Instantly Fred Button and his companion halted and the two boys stared at the sight to which their attention had been directed.

Even their guide, who at that time was several yards behind, hastened to join them and was almost as shocked by the sight as was his young companions.

"What is it? What is it?" whispered John.

"Can't you see?" retorted Fred. "It's a skeleton of a man. The skull is over there," he explained as he pointed to his right. "The other bones have been scattered. Probably some wolves or buzzards have been at work here."

For a brief time no one spoke. The bones before them were unquestionably those of a man. They had been bleached by the sun and their very whiteness increased the ghastly impression.

"What do you think has happened?" inquired John in a low voice.

Fred shook his head and turned questioningly to the guide.

Zeke, the name by which the guide was commonly called, also shook his head as if the mystery was not yet solved. Without speaking he approached the place where the skeleton had been discovered, and a moment later with his foot unearthed a sleeve of a coat which had been buried from sight by drifting sands of the desert.

Stooping, Zeke pulled hard and soon drew forth the coat. The garment itself was somewhat torn, but still was in a fair state of preservation.

Turning to his companions Zeke said abruptly, "Better look around, boys, and see if you can find something else. My impression is that you'll find a set of prospector's tools not far away."

In response to the suggestion the two boys at once busily began their search. A shoe, worn and plainly torn by strong and savage teeth, was brought to Zeke. Later a pick ax, spade and hammer also were discovered and added to the pile.

Meanwhile Zeke had been searching the garment which he had discovered and in one pocket he had found a small book which evidently interested him greatly.

Thrusting his discovery into his pocket, Zeke turned to the boys and said. "What do you think? Shall we bury these bones or shall we try to take them back?"

"Back where?" inquired Fred. "To our camp or back to civilization?"

"I shouldn't do either," suggested John. "We can bury the bones here and mark the spot so that if we ever find out who the man was we can tell his friends where they will find what is left of him. What do you think?" he added, turning to the guide as he spoke.

"I think that's the best thing to do," replied Zeke quietly. "Personally I haven't any strong feeling about what happens to my carcass after I have left it."

"Have you any idea who or what this man was?" Fred asked.

"I found this in his pocket," responded Zeke, displaying the little book he had taken from the coat.

"What is it? What is it?" inquired Fred eagerly.

"It looks to me like it was a diary. Some of it is missing and some is faded, but it looks to me on the whole as if the man was keeping an account every day of what he was doing and where he went."

"Can't you find his name in there somewhere?" inquired John.

"I haven't yet. I have a suspicion that these bones belong to old Simon Moultrie. He was an odd stick and I guess was more than half crazy. He was prospecting most of his life, leastwise as soon as he came out to these regions. The funny part of it all was that he wouldn't go with anybody and wouldn't let anybody go with him. Once or twice he thought he had struck it rich, but I never heard that anything panned out."

"What makes you think the dead man was Simon Moultrie?"

"Mostly because he hasn't been heard from of late. It must be seven or eight months since he has shown up. You see he used to come in twice a year for supplies and then he would start out prospecting and not show up again for six months, or until his supplies ran low."

"How old a man was he?" inquired John.

"Sixty-three or sixty-six, I should reckon," replied Zeke glibly. "He was a bit off, same as I was telling you, and had just gone dippy on the subject of finding a mine."

"And you say he did find one or two?"

"He thought he did find one or two, but when he came to follow them up, why the stuff didn't assay worth a cent, or else it was just a little pocket he had happened to find. What do you think ought to be done with these bones?" again inquired the guide.

"The best thing to do is to bury them and mark the spot just as John said," said Fred.

The suggestion was speedily acted upon and taking the spade which had been found Zeke soon digged a grave in the soft soil. Then carefully and silently the bones of the unfortunate man were collected and covered. A bleached limb of a mesquite tree which had doubtless been torn away and been carried far from its location by one of the terrific wind storms that occasionally sweep over the region, was thrust into the ground at the head of the little grave. Next a piece of paper was taken from his pocket by John. Upon it he wrote, "The grave of an unknown man, supposedly Simon Moultrie. The bones were found July 13, 1914, by Fred Button, John Clemens and Zeke Rattray."

"Don't you think," inquired John, "that I had better put our addresses on this paper too?"

"Good scheme," replied Fred.

Accordingly the permanent address of each member of the party was added to the brief statement.

"Do you suppose we'll ever hear from anybody?" inquired John in a low voice.

"I don't know," answered Fred, shaking his head as he spoke. "It's one of those things you never can tell about."

Fred Button was one of the four boys who among their friends and themselves, for the matter of that, were commonly known as the Go Ahead Boys. They were schoolmates and classmates and were nearly of the same age, John being the only one who was eighteen, while his three companions were each seventeen years old.

In various parts of their country they had been spending their recent vacations together. The list of books given at the beginning of this story will indicate the various parts of the country in which they had met their adventures.

At the present time, however, when this story opens, they were nearly two thousand miles from home.

Across the continent they had journeyed together and together also they had spent ten days viewing the wonders of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado. The apparently perilous ride on the backs of donkeys down Bright Angel Trail had been greatly enjoyed, as well as certain other inspiring expeditions which the boys had made, sometimes in company with others and sometimes with a single guide for the quartet.

So enthusiastic had the young travelers become over their experiences that at last they had obtained the consent of their parents to make an expedition of their own. Two guides were secured who were familiar with the entire region and two strong skiffs were purchased. In these boats the boys had planned to follow a part of the dangerous Colorado River. They had no desire to incur the perils that belonged to many of its swirling rapids and tossing waters. In other places, however, the river was comparatively safe and there the boys planned to follow the course of the stream with their strong and heavy little boats.

Inasmuch as Fred's father was a prominent railway official he had obtained for the boys certain privileges which otherwise they might not have had. Fred himself was the most enthusiastic member of the party. Shorter than any of his comrades his weight was still nearly as great as any of the four. His solid, sturdy little frame was capable of great endurance and there were few experiences he enjoyed more than tiring his long, lanky comrade John, who as one of his friends brutally expressed it was as much too tall as Fred was too short.

Out of consideration for Fred's physique, among his friends he was known as Pigmy and Pee Wee, the former title sometimes being shortened into Pyg.

John, however, rejoiced in his name, or if he did not rejoice, at least was accustomed to respond to the appellation, String.

The remaining members of the little band were George Washington Sanders, one of the most popular boys in the school in which all four were students. Frequently he was referred to as Pop, a distinction by which his friends indirectly expressed their admiration for one who was laughingly referred to as the "Papa of his Land," just as the great man for whom he was named was the "Father of his Country."

Grant was the member of the Go Ahead Boys who easily led in whatever he attempted. In the hundred yards dash he had established the record of the school. His standing in scholarship was high, while his fund of general information was so extensive that he had received the appellation, Socrates. This nickname, however, recently had been shortened by the time-saving lads and Grant was more frequently called Soc than by the name which his parents had given him. His ability as an athlete was scarcely less than his success in the classroom. And yet Grant by no means was one who withdrew from out-of-door life, or enjoyed less than his friends the stirring adventures in which they all had shared.

Zeke Rattray, the guide, was a tall, bronzed, powerful young fellow about twenty-five years of age. For several years he had dwelt in the region, serving as guide for various exploring parties or prospectors. The Go Ahead Boys had smiled incredulously when Zeke had informed them that when he came originally to the state because he was expected to die "back east," (in Iowa) of tuberculosis. "I weighed just one hundred and nineteen pounds when I landed out here," he explained, and then as he stood erect and threw back his powerful shoulders his young companions laughed. It did not seem possible that the strapping young giant, who now weighed at least two hundred pounds, ever had been reduced to such a condition as he described.

The immense strength of Zeke had never impressed the Go Ahead Boys more than when he finished his simple task of interring the bones which had been discovered by Fred and John.

"If I should meet him on the street alone," whispered Fred to John, "I should kindly give him the whole sidewalk. I believe that he could do what Grant says he can. Just look at those hands."

"What does Grant say he can do?"

"Why he declares that Zeke can bend the barrel of a rifle."

* * *

The thoughts of the two boys speedily were withdrawn from the physical prowess of their guide. At that moment he had again taken the little book he had found in the pocket of the coat of the dead man, and, opening it, said, "I'm not sure, boys, whether this man was Simon Moultrie or not. It sounds just like him, but there's so little writing that I can't tell."

"What does it say?" inquired John eagerly.

"Why, it's a diary. Some days he didn't write anything and other days when he did write, the pages are torn and the writing is so blurred that no one can make out what he means."

"Let me see it," said Fred, extending his hand as he spoke.

Taking the little book Fred saw that it apparently was a diary as Zeke had suggested. It was for the year 1914. One entry was quite distinct wherein the unfortunate man had recorded the story of his journey to Tombstone for fresh supplies.

When he commented upon this fact, Zeke said, "That's what makes me think it might have been Simon. As I said to you he only came in twice each year and then stayed just long enough to get supplies to last him for the next six months. Of course he may have come in when I didn't know anything about it."

"When did be make his trips?" inquired Fred.

"Usually about October and. April He didn't like to lose much time from his prospecting so he would come in just about the time the snow was gone and get fitted out for his work that summer."

"If he wont in last April," suggested John, "he must have lost some of his supplies."

"Nobody knows just where he made his head quarters. It's more'n likely though that the coyotes, if they could talk, might be able to tell you more about what became of old Simon's bacon than any living man could."

"Here's something!" exclaimed Fred excitedly. "This is worth while," he added, after he had looked carefully through the various pages of the diary and in the back part of the book, distinct from the numbered pages, he had found the following entry:

"June 1st.

At last I have found it. It seems good after twenty-three years of disappointment to be able to say that I have found a good lead and that there is a sure enough vein here. I thought I was on the right trail when I was in the middle of Thorn's Gulch and I found pretty soon that I had struck it just right. I followed the lead four days and every day I was more convinced that I had found something at last worth while. The assay will be great. Soon I shall have all the money I need, and my poor old sister will no longer be broken hearted for me. I was determined to find a mine and now I have one that is worth all my long working and waiting."

"Any name signed to that?" inquired Zeke quickly when Fred ceased reading.

"No."

"Then you can't be sure it's Simon's."

"Yes, you can, if the book belonged to him, as you think it did. It's plain this Simon, if that was his name, was an educated man."

"How do you know that?" inquired John.

"Why, the words are all spelled as they ought to be and his penmanship is good. The only thing is that there isn't a name signed nor any sign that will show who wrote it. Hello!" he added quickly, "here's something on the next page that ought to interest us."

"What is it?" inquired John, approaching and looking over the shoulder of his friend.

"It looks to me like a map," said Fred thoughtfully. "Here's a place that is marked Thorn's Gulch and over here on one side is a spot marked Two Crow Tree, and a little further up on the same side is Tom's Thumb. Across the Gulch is a place marked Split Rock. Not far away from it is another mark which he calls his stake. Then right opposite it are three other marks,-? m N.E., ? m S.E., ? m N.N.E. Here's a picture of it," Fred added.

"That's interesting," said Zeke thoughtfully. "I know where Thorn's Gulch is."

"How far is it from here?" inquired Fred.

"Oh, I should say it is a good forty miles."

"Is it hard to get there?"

"I haven't ever been this way," replied Zeke, "but I'm thinkin' we can make it."

"In which direction does the Gulch run?"

"It's a funny place," explained Zeke; "it runs mostly north and south. It takes a sharp turn at the lower end."

"Probably that was to let out the water that had been caught in there."

"Probably," said Zeke scornfully. The guide had slight confidence in the explanations which the boys had to give for the formation of the great chasms found near the Colorado River and its tributaries. "I'm thinkin' that the One who made that Canyon could just as well make it the way it is as the way you say."

"No doubt about that," Fred laughingly had conceded. "It isn't a question of ability, it is simply how it was done."

"According to what I can find out," said Zeke, "there seems to be styles in explainin' things, same as there is in clothes. My wife doesn't want to wear the dress she had two years ago even if it isn't worn out very much. When I ask her what's the matter with it she says it's out o' style. It's the same way with explaining how this great hole in the ground came here. There seems to be a sort of 'style' about it. Some people say it's erosion, others say it's the work of a big glacier. Then too I have heard some say as how it was neither and some said it was both. That doesn't make any difference though, but I know where Thorn's Gulch is and I can go there if you want to."

"If Simon found a mine what was it?"

"Can't say," replied Zeke sharply. "It might be gold, it might be zinc and more likely might be copper. Most likely of all though is that he didn't find no mine 't all."

"There isn't anything more in the diary about it anyway," said Fred, who now had looked through all the pages without discovering any further description. "How long is Thorn's Gulch?"

"Somewhere between fifteen and twenty miles," answered Zeke.

"Whew!" whistled John. "If we're going to look up the lost mine we'll have some 'looking' to do I'm thinking."

"Right you are," said Fred soberly. "Do you think we had better try to find this place?"

"That's for you to say," said Zeke. "It's all one to me whether I help you find a copper mine or whether I keep you from, tipping over in the boat. I'm inclined to think the boat business is a good deal safer than the other."

"But we can't throw away a clue like this," protested Fred. "Here it is," he added, again looking at the map. "Two Crow Tree and Tom's Thumb and then across the Gulch about half way between the two places on the other side is Split Bock and then back of that is the stake. I don't know what these figures mean."

"I do," said John confidently, "it's a half-mile northeast, then you go a quarter of a mile southeast and then you turn and go a quarter of a mile north northeast. Why, it's just as simple as the multiplication table."

Zeke smiled and shook his head and although he did not speak it was plain that he did not accept John's explanation of the somewhat mysterious figures as correct.

"Did you ever hear of Two Crow Tree?" asked John.

"I never did," said Zeke solemnly.

"Well, did you ever hear of Tom's Thumb?"

"Can't say that I have."

"Then, it's plain," said John, winking at Fred as he spoke, "that we'll have to get somebody who is more familiar than you are, Zeke, with this part of the country."

"Huh!" snorted Zeke. "Don't you believe it. There ain't nobody in these diggin's that knows the country like I do."

"But you don't know where Two Crow Tree is or Tom's Thumb, to say nothing about Split Rock on the opposite side of the canyon."

"That doesn't mean that I can't find them," retorted Zeke. "You mustn't forget either that those names may be the ones that Simon gave the places. They may not be on the map at all and nobody else may ever have called them by those names."

"Well, shall we try to find the place? That's the question," said John somewhat impatiently.

"Not until the other boys and Pete come back here."

Pete was the name of the second guide and on most occasions Zeke professed to despise his judgment and belittle his information.

"Oh, Pete will do just what you say is the thing to be done," said Fred, winking at John as he spoke.

"That 's likely," assented Zeke. "All the same I'm not going to start off with you two boys and leave the other two here for Pete to look after. I'm afraid Pete couldn't keep off the coyotes, to say nothing of the buzzards."

"Zeke," said Fred abruptly, "how long do you think it took the coyotes and the buzzards to strip those bones that we found?"

"Not more than a half-hour."

"What?"

"That's right," said Zeke positively. "A job like that doesn't take a half-dozen coyotes any time at all. And I'm thinkin' they had to divide with the buzzards anyway."

John, who apparently for a few minutes had not been taking much interest in the conversation now looked up from the place where he was standing and said sharply, "I'm for looking for that lost mine."

"That's a good one," laughed Zeke.

"What is a good one?" demanded John tartly.

"Your lost mine. There wasn't any mine anyway. All there was to it was a prospect. Old Simon maybe thought he had found a lead, but unless 'twas a good deal surer than any other one he ever found, it wasn't worth much, but all the same I'm for tryin' to find it if the other boys and Pete agree to it."

* * *

By this time the boys and their guide had returned to the place where they had left their companions. Their two companions already were there and the return of their friends was greeted by a shout from both Grant and George.

Other things, however, speedily were forgotten when Fred related the story of their gruesome discovery in the sheltered place or cave on the sloping side of the mountain.

Both George and Grant at once united in declaring that the decision which their friends already had made to seek for the lost mine was to be highly commended. Again and again the diary was inspected and the part wherein Simon Moultrie had recorded his discovery of the great lead was read aloud again and again.

Pete, the guide, a silent, bronzed man of thirty, openly scoffed at the idea that any discovery worth while would follow their attempts to find the spot indicated in the diary of the lost prospector.

"Nobody knows," declared Pete, "whether you found the bones of Simon Moultrie or not."

"That doesn't make any difference," declared Fred sturdily, "if we can only find the place he spoke of. Zeke says he knows where Thorn's Gulch is-"

"Huh!" interrupted Pete. "I guess ev'rybody in this part o' th' country knows where Thorn's Gulch is."

"But," continued Fred, winking at John as he spoke, "he doesn't know where Two Crow Tree is nor just where Tom's Thumb is located. Of course you know, so we came back to the camp."

"If I don't know I can find 'em, I guess," assented Pete sturdily.

"That's just what Zeke said," laughed Fred. "What we're looking for isn't somebody who can find them, but somebody who knows where they are."

"Don't you worry none about that," said Pete. "We'll find the spot if there's any such place."

The camp was located in a most attractive spot, high above the roaring river. It was on the sloping side of the towering border. A natural pathway lead to the plateau above, while a spring of clear water was conveniently near for their needs.

In spite of the July day the air was cool and the smoke of their camp-fire was carried swiftly down the canyon. The sublime sight of the Grand Canyon was before them, although from their camp they were unable to see the largest of all the great gulches.

The sides of the various canyons, which the swiftly flowing Colorado had made, were carved and fretted almost beyond belief. The various strata of rock and soil that had been exposed to view by the centuries of action of the mighty river were marvelously tinted. Indeed, George declared that the blues, the grays, and reds and mauves were only less impressive than the overwhelming size of the Grand Canyon itself. Grant, however, was positive that the sculptured sides of the vast hole were equal in interest to the coloring and the glory of the canyon itself.

With every changing angle of the sun the colors and shadings also changed. Again and again the boys had marked the shadows formed every morning and evening and they laughingly announced and described the various resemblances which they had traced.

The Grand Canyon itself is only a part of the long canyon, in places a mile deep and in certain places a score of miles from side to side, through which the mighty river has forced its way.

The Colorado River starting in Southern Utah is formed by the junction of the Green and the Grand Rivers. The former rising in Northern Utah, traverses also a part of Wyoming, while the latter river traces the western Rockies in Colorado.

Of this wonderful stream Major Powell, the first to descend the river, wrote, "Ten million cascade brooks unite to form a hundred rivers. Beside that, cataracts and a hundred roaring rivers unite to form the Colorado, a mad turbid stream."

One distinguished writer, describing the mighty canyon, said it is "most mysterious in its depth than the Himalayas in their height. It is true that the Grand Canyon remains not the eighth but the first wonder of the world. There is nothing like it."

Our special interest, however, is in the four boys and their two guides, who now were assembled in the camp. Every boy was bronzed and toughened by his exposure and labors. Packs were to be seen which had been brought into camp on the backs of the various members of the party. Each pack contained about sixty pounds of food and materials necessary for the expedition. In addition, guns had been brought, fishing rods were visible and other implements, which were a part of the camp life were on every side.

Burros had been used to carry some of the burdens until the boys had entered within the canyon itself. Then the burros with the Indian boy who had accompanied them as far as the border, turned back to the place from which they had come. It was not believed that sufficient material would be left after the expedition was completed to require again the services of the donkeys.

After supper the boys stretched themselves on the ground near the fire which was still burning.

"We have kept together all the way as far as this," suggested Fred, "but I'm wondering now if we wouldn't do better if we divided into two parties."

"What for?" demanded Grant, sitting quickly erect.

"I've just been talking to Zeke and asking him whether he didn't think we would need more supplies than we have before we came back."

"Nonsense," said John. "We have all we want. It isn't going to take us more than a year to find that place Simon Moultrie told about. If we don't get some trace of it within a few days I'm not in favor of keeping up the search and for that reason I don't believe we'll want any more supplies."

"Nobly spoken!" laughed George. "It sounds like the supreme wisdom of Soc. What do you say about it?" he added, turning to Grant as he spoke.

"I know just enough to know that I don't know anything about it," answered Grant.

"But what do you think?" protested Fred.

"I think we may need more than we have. What does Zeke say about it?" replied Grant.

"Zeke doesn't think we had better divide again. He says that if we need supplies we can go in for them, but the probabilities are that we shall be back long before any such lack comes. He thinks we had better all keep together. There's safety in numbers sometimes, you know."

"I agree," said Grant, "if that is Zeke's opinion. Still when we get on the ground where our real search begins I'm of the opinion that we'll get along better and faster if we make two parties instead of one."

"There will be time enough to talk about that when we have to," laughed Fred. "Look yonder," he abruptly added, pointing as he spoke to two men who could be seen coming down the natural approach to the camp. "Where did they come from? Who are they? What do you suppose they want? You don't suppose it is somebody coming in with a message of bad news for us, do you?"

No one replied to the questions of the startled boy, but every member of the party at once turned and keenly watched the approaching men. Both were walking, although Zeke explained in a low voice that doubtless they had burros somewhere not far away.

In a brief time the two strangers approached the camp and immediately made themselves known.

"I've seen both those men before," whispered Fred excitedly.

"Where?" inquired John.

"They were on the train when we came. They sat right across the aisle from us. I'm sure they are the same men for I never shall forget the scar on the left cheek of that short one."

The two approaching strangers were now so near that it was possible for John to confirm the statement of his friend. A long livid scar, extending almost entirely across his left cheek, was visible on the face of the younger man. His companion was taller, evidently at least ten years older and had a face which was not altogether prepossessing at first sight.

"Yes, sir," repeated Fred. "I saw both those fellows on the car the day before we left the train."

"Evenin'," called the man with the scar.

"Same to you," retorted Zeke.

"We're doin' a bit o' prospecting or at least we expect to do some and got caught up here in a gully which we can't very well get across where we are. We saw the smoke of your fire and thought we might come down and perhaps you would invite us to spend the night with you."

"You're entirely welcome," said Zeke. The guide's manner was quiet and there was nothing to belie the apparent cordiality of the statement he had just made.

The young campers, however, were by no means convinced that their unbidden visitors were parties whom they could welcome.

Already the sun was below the western cliffs, although its beams in certain places still flashed between the mountains and tinged the sides of the adjacent canyon with myriad dancing and delicate colors.

Hospitality, however, was a part of the life on the plains and seldom was any unexpected guest turned away from a human habitation or company. Suspicious though the boys certainly were they did not offer any protest and in response to their invitation to share in the remnants of their evening meal, the two strangers at once accepted and seated themselves not far from the camp-fire.

It was not until they had eaten that they explained more in detail who and what they were. Not long before this time they had come from Tombstone to search for a mine of whose existence they declared they had received information from certain somewhat vague reports.

"The trouble is, Mr. Stranger," one of them explained, "that we don't know just where this mine is. There was a report in Tombstone that an old prospector up here had struck it rich, but that he died or at least hadn't been heard from since the report started. The Indians say that he was looking for his mine in a part of the country where the Great Spirit has forbidden the children o' men to come. They declare that this prospector didn't die a natural death."

"What did he die of?" inquired Zeke.

"Why they say that no man ever goes into that region and comes out alive, or if he does happen to succeed in that, he can't dodge the bad luck which is sure to catch him."

"And do you want to find the place?" inquired Fred quizzically.

"We do and if there is any such place we're going to find it."

The four boys meanwhile had glanced apprehensively at one another when they heard the reference to the discovery of a mine which soon had been lost. The statement too that the original prospector was dead increased the mystery as well as the interest of the Go Ahead Boys.

What would these strangers say if they knew that already in the possession of the Go Ahead Boys was the statement of an old prospector who very likely was the very one to whom the unwelcome guests had frequently referred?

* * *