allus been a-diggin’ in this here cañon an’ in these here mountains, as ye kin see by their old prospect holes everywhar. But nobody ain’t never made no big strikes yet. Thar’s one feller a-livin’ in these hills what don’t dig no gold though; an’ they do say, too, as how he knows more ’bout th’ ol’ lost mine than ary other man a-livin’. Some says he even knows whar hits at.” The Lizard shook his head solemnly. “You shore want t’ watch out fer him, too. He’s plumb bad—that’s what I’m a-tellin’ you.”
“Yes?” said Hugh Edwards, encouragingly.
“Uh-huh, he ain’t no white man neither. He’s Injun—calls hisse’f Natachee, whatever that is. He’s one of these here school Injuns gone wild agin—lives all ’lone way in the upper part of th’ cañon somewhar, whar hits so blamed rough a goat couldn’t get ’round; an’ togs hisse’f up with th’ sort of things them old-time Injuns used to wear—won’t even use a gun, jist packs a bow an’ arrers. I ain’t got no use fer an Injun nohow. This here’s a white man’s country, I say, an’ this here Natachee he’s the worst I ever did see. He’d plunk one of them thar arrers of hisn inter you, er slit yer throat any old time if he{54} dast. I can’t say fer shore whether he knows about this Mine with th’ Iron Door er not, but hit’s certain shore you got t’ watch him. Hit’s all right fer that thar Saint Jimmy an’ them old Pardners t’ be friends with him if they like hit, but I know what I know.”
{54}
Hugh Edwards did not overlook this opportunity to learn something of the people who lived in the Cañon of Gold; and the Lizard was more than willing to tell all he knew, perhaps even to add something for good measure. When at last the Lizard arose reluctantly, the stranger had heard every current version of the history and relationship of the two old prospectors and their partnership daughter, with copious comments on their characters, sidelights on their personal affairs, their intercourse with their neighbors, their business, and every possible theory explaining them.
“Not that thar’s anybody what really knows anythin’,”—the Lizard was careful to make this clear—“’cept of course that old story ’bout them a-findin’ th’ gal somewhars when she warn’t much more’n a baby; which, as I say, ain’t no way nateral enough fer anybody t’ believe—’cause babies like her ain’t jist found—picked up anywhar, as you may say, without no paw ner maw ner nothin’. An’ if thar warn’t somethin’ wrong about hit, what would them two old devils be so close-mouthed fer? Why, sir, one time when I asked ’em about hit—jist sort of
Prev.
Back
Top