The Treasure of Nugget Mountain | Page 6

off our guard.
We returned to our camp, and the chief, and Nscho-Tschi, feeling perfectly secure, little dreaming that the strangers in turn were following us, with death in their hearts and hands.
CHAPTER II.
TO NUGGET MOUNTAIN.

THAT night we encamped beside a spring, which flowed fresh and bright from the tender grass it watered, and was most acceptable to our tired horses. The spot was surrounded by bushes and trees which enabled us to have a fire without its being seen at a great distance. Two sentinels were stationed by the chief to watch, and everything seemed to insure our safety as we sat around the fire, sheltered from the cool night wind by the bushes.
It was our custom in the pueblo to sit and talk after supper, and we did so to-night. In the course of the conversation Intschu-Tschuna said that we should not resume our journey in the morning until mid-day, and when Sam Hawkins asked why this was he was answered with a frankness which I profoundly regretted later: "That should be a secret, but I can trust it to my white brothers, if they will promise not to try to know more than I tell them."
We all gave the promise, and he continued: "We need gold, so tomorrow morning early I will go with my children to get nuggets, and shall return at midday."
Stone and Parker uttered an exclamation of wonder, and Sam, no less amazed, asked: "Is there gold near here?"
"Yes," replied Intschu-Tschuna. "No one suspects it; even my braves do not know it. I learned it from my father, who in turn had the secret from his father. Such secrets are always handed down from father to son, and considered sacred; they are not shared even with one's dearest friends. It is true I have now spoken of it, but I would not tell any man the place, nor show it to him, and I would shoot down any one who dared follow us to discover it."
"Would you kill even us?"
"Even you. I have trusted you, and if you betrayed that trust you would deserve to die. But I know you will not leave this spot till we have returned."
With this he ended the subject abruptly, and the conversation took another turn. Intschu-Tschuna, Winnetou, Nscho-Tschi and I sat with our backs toward the bushes; Sam, Dick and Will on the opposite side of the fire facing us. In the midst of our pleasant talk Hawkins suddenly uttered a cry, snatched his gun, and fired between us into the thicket. Of course his shot alarmed the entire camp. The Indians rushed over to us, and we jumped up, demanding of Sam why he had fired.
"I saw two eyes shining out of the bushes behind Intschu-Tschuna," he declared. Instantly the Indians snatched brands from the fire, and rushed into the shrubbery. Their search was vain. We quieted down at last, and seated ourselves as before. "Sam Hawkins must have been mistaken," said Intschu-Tschuna. "Such mistakes are easily made in the flickering fire's light."
"I don't see how I could be," said Sam. "I felt perfectly sure I saw two eyes there."
"The wind turned the leaves; my brother saw the light side, and took them for eyes."
"That's possible, and in that case I must have killed the leaves."
He laughed in his silent way, but Winnetou did not look at the matter in the light of a jest; he said gravely: "In any case my brother Sam has made a great mistake, for which we may pay later."
"A mistake? How so?"
"The shot was dangerous for us," said Winnetou.. "Either Sam saw no eyes, and then it was unnecessary, and would attract our enemies who might be about, or, if he really saw a man, the shot was foolish, for it could not hit him possibly."
"Oh, but Sam Hawkins is sure of his aim; I don't miss my mark."
"I too can shoot, but in such a case I certainly should not have hit. The spy would have seen you take your gun, and would move out of your range."
Though the others were satisfied with the search that had been made Winnetou did not accept it as final. Once more he rose, and went out to go over the ground again himself, and make sure all was well. He was gone over an hour, and when he came back he said: "There is no man there; Sam Hawkins must certainly have been mistaken."
Nevertheless he doubled the sentinels, bidding them be more than usually vigilant, and patrol the circle of our camp more frequently. Then we lay down to rest. My sleep was not quiet; I waked often, and during my naps had brief, turbulent dreams in which Santer and his comrades played the chief parts. That was the natural consequence of our meeting