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<h3>Chapter Fifty Five.</h3> <h4>The Old House at Home.</h4> The little mule-train, very lightly laden, and with harness, pack-saddles, and loads looking ragged, patched, sun-bleached, and repaired in every conceivable way, moved slowly along through the rich greenery, led and followed by its sun-tanned escort, three before and three behind. The ponies looked in admirable condition save that a change of diet seemed necessary to do away with a swollen-out aspect due to constant feeding upon green-stuff instead of corn. But the saddles and bridles were as bad as those of the mules, though every bit and buckle glistened in the sunshine through constant rubbing with sand. The less said about the patched garments of the escort the better. But there were no rags. Patches of divers materials, principally furry skins, were plentiful, and the moccasins which had taken the place of boots were either Indian and very neat, or home-made and quite the reverse. But here too there was something worthy of remark—each man’s weapons were admirably cared for and ready for instant use, while the occupants of the saddles, though horribly dilapidated in the way of clothes, were also in that grand state of vigorous health which also made them appear ready for immediate use in any way, from hunting or shooting to obtain the day’s provision, to fighting for dear life against the enemies of the white men who roamed the plains. Not that these six wanderers could fairly be called white, for the sun had burned them to a dull brick-red; but the term men is advisedly used, for though when the party last passed that way, going in the opposite direction, they were made up of four hale vigorous men and two boys, the latter had been left in the desert lands through which they had been wandering for two years—left, that is to say, by degrees, every bit that had been boyish having physically died out, for its place to be taken by something more manly, till on this particular day they rode back with their feet much nearer the ground and their sturdy mustangs appearing stunted, though quite well able to carry a far heavier load than had been in the habit of climbing into the saddles when they started from the plantations at the above-named distance of time. It was only about a couple of hours before, when the party left the shelter of a patch of great spruce-firs where they had camped for the night, that the doctor had made a remark to Bourne, and then both had stared hard at Chris and Ned, a proceeding which brought the blood into the young men’s faces and made Chris ask what they are to laugh at. “You,” said the doctor. “Why, when we rode away on our search you looked a mere boy; you are coming back to the old home both of you men grown, if you weren’t so lathy and thin.” “Nobody will know them, eh, Wilton?” “That’s for certain. They will grin at you.” “I wouldn’t advise them to,” said Griggs slowly. “Chris has grown very hot and peppery, and Ned here has done so much fighting that he always seems to be, as the Irish say, spoiling for another go in. So they’d better not laugh, for we want to settle down again as friends.” They had been journeying on since then, getting nearer and nearer to the old settlement; but the change seemed wonderful, and they talked it over. “Why,” said the doctor, “it isn’t only the boys that have grown, but everything here.” “Yes, wonderfully,” said Bourne; “overgrown, one ought to say.” “They don’t seem to have used the tracks much,” put in Griggs. “It’s hard work to make sure whether we’re going right.” “Oh, we’re going right enough,” said Chris. “I remember every hill and dale. Look yonder; that’s where the plantations are. But how they have altered!” “Yes,” said the doctor, “the place does seem changed; but from the state of the tracks I’m afraid that very little has been done in the way of developing the fruit trade. Hullo! Why are you turning off here, boys?” “Because it was just under those big fir-trees, father, that we took and buried that poor old prospector. Ned and I want to see the board we cut and nailed on the biggest trunk.” “To be sure, yes,” said Bourne; “let’s go and see.” The mules were halted, and began to graze, while the party rode through the lush saplings and bushes that had sprung up so that it was hard work to get through, till they passed under the spreading branches of the trees, where the undergrowth became thin and sparse. “There’s the old board,” cried Chris suddenly, and the party drew rein at last by the side of the heaped-up pile of stones with which they had marked the wanderer’s grave. No one spoke for a few minutes, but they sat there thinking deeply of the old man’s coming, his death, and his legacy to the doctor, who broke the silence at length with a bitter sigh. “Poor old dreamer!” he said sadly. “You bequeathed us your imagination, and sent us off on our quest for the phantom gold.” “Yes,” said Bourne; “we’d better have left him his legacy and gone on home to the old-country.” “Oh, I don’t know,” said Wilton. “We’ve had a grand time of travel and adventure, eh, boys?” “Splendid!” came in a breath. “I’m only sorry that we’ve come back.” “Yes,” added Chris. “You’ll think that over, father, about rigging up another expedition and making a fresh trial?” “We shall see,” said the doctor thoughtfully; “we shall see. What do you say, Griggs, about another search for the golden city?” “Well, I dunno,” said Griggs slowly. “Maybe I’ll wait a year before I decide one way or the other.” “Griggs!” cried the two lads together. “Oh, you needn’t shout,” said the American. “I’ve been thinking over it a deal, more’n you have, p’r’aps, and it seems to me that even if we had found the old place marked down on that old Rip Van Winkle map we should have had a deal of trouble to carry back enough gold to have made the journey worth while.” “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed the two young men uproariously. “There’s an old fox. He has just found out that the grapes are sour.” “Well, so they have been, boys,” cried the American. “But talk about grapes, it’s just five years since I planted some fine young vines in my patch and against the shanty. I wonder whether the blights have let them grow. My word, I should like a few bunches now!” “I’m afraid they’ll be as sour as the gold, Griggs,” said the doctor. “There, let’s ride on and leave the poor old fellow to sleep in peace. He took his secret with him, for his map was too vague for us to find his city of golden dreams. We have spent two years over the search, but we have travelled well over an unknown land and come back, I hope, wiser and more ready to do battle with the world.” “Oh, we shall try again, father,” cried Chris, “and get real gold yet, not phantom gold, as you call it. Nil desperandum, you know. Never say die.” “Try again!” cried Ned. “Hope springs eternal in the human breast,” said Bourne gravely. “Better luck next time,” cried Wilton. “Say, gentlemen,” said Griggs dryly, “it don’t seem to me a suitable time for you to be firing off your copy-book maxims all over the place when it’s getting on for dinner-hour. I want to progress and ride on to the old plantations to see which of our old friends is going to win in the fight to have us for guests and give us a good sitting-down square meal.” “There’s wisdom,” cried Chris merrily. “Griggs is always right. Forward!” He led the way from beneath the spreading boughs of the great spruce, out from the solemn gloom where the old prospector lay and into the glorious sunshine of the luxuriant, verdant country, which seemed a very Eden after the parching sandy alkali deserts and the rocky tracts. The mules and ponies kept on snatching at a mouthful here and a mouthful there, as if it were too rich and tempting to be passed; but in spite of the loveliness of all around, the adventurers became more and more impressed by a something desolate about the attractive district over which they passed. The hills and dales were glorious, but somehow they came upon no signs of cultivation, nor yet of settlements, till at last, with a feeling of sinking that was not all due to hunger, they rode right into the very centre of the cluster of plantations they had left two years before on their search for the golden city, to find on their return wherever they went traces of a fire here, completely over-run with greenery, there the remains of a shed or shanty with trees and vines dislodging the props and boards; and though they hailed and whistled it was only to scare birds or squirrels, and to awake no answering call. They rode a little here and a little there, the ponies pushing their way through the tremendous growth; but it was all the same. Shanty after shanty was in ruins where it could be traced, but desertion everywhere. But during the search, moved by a strange feeling of opposition, the friends shrank from approaching the dense grove which hid the home they had left. They all shared the feeling that it would be too painful to look upon the traces of the fire that without doubt had levelled with the soil the house they had toiled over, and it was not until Griggs spoke that something like a spell which had hung over them was driven away. “Seems to me,” he said, “that when the fellows burned or carried off all their stuff they made a pretty clean sweep. I’m just going across now to have a look at my old spot; but I don’t suppose there’ll be any dinner waiting there. Won’t you have a look at your old roost first?” “Yes,” said the doctor, making an effort. “I couldn’t go in yonder before. Chris, boy, there’s no one to blame but ourselves; we deserted the old place; but it seemed to be hard to bear. Let’s look at the ruins, if there are any left.” They forced their way through a dense grove of fruit-trees and wild growth which towered above the plantings of the past, the ponies breaking down the lush vines and succulent canes, till they were brought up suddenly by something solid which was overgrown by a vine. “What!” cried the doctor. “Ahoy! Griggy!” roared Chris through his hands. “Ahoy! Hooray! Here’s one of our vines loaded and breaking down with grapes.” The next minute the American and his companions had forced their way up to the front of the big shanty and its shed—the barracks, as they had termed it—to find that their fellow-settlers had respected the nailed-up doors and shutters, leaving at their exodus the unlucky district just as it had been at the peril finders’ departure; but Nature had been hard at work for her part, toiling as she toils in a rich country to destroy man’s work and restore all to its pristine state. But though vines had draped, and shoots had dislodged shingles, the stoutly-nailed walls stood firm. No firebrand had been set to the sawn-up wood, and after some work with an axe to wrench away the boards that had been nailed over window-shutter and door, there was the old place fairly intact, with the utensils just as they had been left. The consequence was that the wanderers, after seeing to their weary beasts and leaving them grazing in the midst of abundance, made their own dinner seated at the rough table, drinking the water from the swift river hard by, and finding, half smothered by the competing growth, abundance of peaches and Bartlett-pears to supplement the grapes ripening on the roof of the old home. “I say, Chris,” said Ned, with his mouth full, or nearly so, of juicy pear, “is this all a dream?” “My peach tastes just like a real one,” was the reply. “But I say, father, the fruit never used to grow like this.” “No, my boy,” said the doctor; “I feel half stunned in my surprise. A complete change seems to have come over everything. The weeds and wild things have run rampant, but the fruit-trees, such as I can see, all look clean and free from blight.” “Say, neighbour,” cried Griggs, “I’m going over to my place now, if some one else will help at the clearance. These grapes, you know.” “They’re splendid,” said the doctor. “What about them?” “Why, this,” said Griggs; “I planted lots, and they’d never grow any more than my oranges would.” “Oranges!” cried Chris. “Here, father, we haven’t looked at our grove.” “Come on with me, then,” said Griggs, “and we’ll take it on the way. I want to see mine too. As to the grapes, if yours’ll grow like this so ought mine; and if they have—But wait a bit.” All mounted again, to make their mustangs breast their way in the direction of the dried-up peach and orange-grove which they had toiled over in despair, and at the first glance a shout of delight arose. “Why, father,” cried Chris, “what was the good of going there through thirst and starvation to find phantom gold when it is glowing and growing, and breaking down the branches here?” For it was a golden sight indeed for weary, longing and disappointed eyes. Progress was difficult after they had literally gloated over the beauty and promise of the orange-grove, for the tracks were wonderfully grown over, everything showing that the settlement must have been forsaken almost directly after the departure of the adventurers. Then Griggs’ plantation was reached and found to be as full of promise as that which they had so lately quitted; and this proved to be the case wherever they rode, for the change everywhere was complete, the crops, as far as the encroaching wildings would allow, being abundant, but not a hand left to gather, those whom the party had known having forsaken the place to a man. The rest of the day was devoted to cleaning and making the old home suitable for temporary if not for permanent habitation. Creeper and vine had to be cut back, so as to admit light and clear the choked-up chimney, while with the growth endless intruders, insect, reptile, and bird, were banished. The remaining stores, now very low, were brought in, and what all declared to be a very jovial supper prepared and most thoroughly enjoyed. “One never knows what a day will bring forth,” cried Bourne, smiling upon his listeners. “Here we were this morning weary and despondent, looking forward to someone taking us in to-night by way of charity, while now we find that we have fallen on our feet, and are quite at home in the midst of abundance.” “Yes,” said Wilton; “I’ve seen enough to prove that Nature has retaken possession here, and that an hour with a gun will give us all we want to-morrow in the way of game.” “Yes,” cried Chris; “and look there, Ned—fish.” “What about them?” “The river’s full, and I saw plenty leaping, waiting for rod and line or net.” “That’s good,” cried Ned. “Oh yes; we shan’t starve,” said Griggs. “But let’s see, how far used we to be from the other settlement?” “Forty miles,” replied the doctor. “But suppose that is deserted, the same as this?” “Then we shall be quite a hundred from the next.” “A hundred,” said Griggs dryly. “Well, that seems horribly close and crowding one up like after living as we’ve been lately. It seems to me that if we liked to stop here now we might have the pick of the whole place, and as many patches as we like to take up.” “What about the old owners?” said Bourne. “They’ve thrown up the game and gone—back to England, perhaps. I don’t believe any one is ever likely to put in claims, but we could soon get that settled by the State law. I’ve nearly made up my mind to start afresh, doctor. You see, everything is going to be quite different; but there’s one thing I can’t understand. Climates don’t change all at once, but here’s this place boiling over, as one might say, with plenty now, while a few years ago we were only able to grow enough to feed the insects and blight. How do you account for that?” “I can only give you what I surmise to be the case,” replied the doctor. “We were tempted here by seeing how beautiful and fruitful everything was.” “Yes; everything but what we planted, and that tried to die out of the way as fast as it could. Well, sir, how was that?” “Simply because the things we planted were strange to the land. All they wanted was time—years in which to root down to the best soil. If we had waited longer they would have appeared as good as they are now.” “That sounds well, sir,” said Griggs, “and I should like to hear a little more about it, but I think we’ve got as much to think about as we can bear to-night. What say you?” “That I shall be thankful for a good night’s rest,” was the reply, and soon after all was silent within the lonely ranch, both the lads lying listening to the varied sounds without, for to one of them it seemed as if all the wild creatures of the forest were holding a meeting to inquire into the fresh invasion of a tract of land out of which they had been driven years before, but to which they had returned upon its being deserted, while now the question was in respect of a new invasion, and whether those who had taken possession intended to stay. <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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