Читать книгу The Boy Miners; Or, The Enchanted Island, A Tale of the Yellowstone Country онлайн

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“Come, Jim, move faster!” called the voice of George Inwood from some subterranean point.

“Yas, yas, I’s dar!”——

Further exclamation was cut short, for at this instant the indignant African was seized by the ankle with such force, that he fell prostrate upon his back, and, despite his struggles and threats of dire punishment, was quickly drawn out of sight and hearing.

This was scarcely done, when a dozen Mohave Indians swarmed over the ridge of rocks and trees which bounded the northern part of the stream, and scattered here and there in quest of the gold hunters, whom they had been watching from a distance nearly all the afternoon. Each of them was armed with a gun, several displayed tomahawks and knives at their girdles, while the majority had large, beautifully woven and ornamented blankets thrown over their shoulders.

Running hither and thither, their sharp black eyes darting in every direction, they could not be long without discovering traces of the interlopers. A sort of halloo, something like the yelp of a large dog, when a cow flings him over the fence, told that one of the dusky scamps were on the trail. Immediately the whole pack darted up the channel, and the next moment, had halted before the mouth of a cave, the entrance being of sufficient width to admit the passage of an ordinary sized man; but just now a large boulder prevented their ingress.