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11 - Gold Hunters by James Oliver Curwood · Gold Hunters

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  Speaker 1: Chapter eleven, The cry in the chasm. If Mukoki had
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  Speaker 1: been a white man, he would have analyzed in some
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  Speaker 1: way the meaning of those strange cries. But the wild
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  Speaker 1: and its savage things formed his world, and his world
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  Speaker 1: until this night had never known human or beast that
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  Speaker 1: could make the terrible sounds he had heard. So for
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  Speaker 1: an hour he crouched where he had fallen, still trembling
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  Speaker 1: with that nameless fear, and trying hard to form a
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  Speaker 1: solution of what had happened. Slowly he recovered himself. For
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  Speaker 1: many years he had mingled with the white people at
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  Speaker 1: the post, and reason now battled with the superstitions of
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  Speaker 1: his race. He had been fired at. He had heard
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  Speaker 1: the whistling song of the ball over his head, and
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  Speaker 1: had heard it strike the tree behind him. For a time,
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  Speaker 1: those rocks toward which he stared like fascinated beast, had
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  Speaker 1: concealed a man. But what kind of man? He remembered
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  Speaker 1: the ancient battle cries of his tribe and of the
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  Speaker 1: enemies of his tribe, but none was like the cries
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  Speaker 1: that had followed the shot. He heard them. Still, they
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  Speaker 1: rang in his ears and sent shivering chills up his back,
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  Speaker 1: and the more he tried to reason, the greater that
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  Speaker 1: nameless fear grew in him, until he slunk like an
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  Speaker 1: animal down the side of the mountain, through the dip,
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  Speaker 1: and out again upon the plain, And with that same
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  Speaker 1: nameless fear always close behind him, urging him on with
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  Speaker 1: its terrors, he sped back over the trail that he
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  Speaker 1: had followed that day. Not for an instant did he
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  Speaker 1: stop to rest, until he came to the camp fire
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  Speaker 1: of Rod and Wabigoon. Usually, an Indian hides his fears,
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  Speaker 1: he conceals them as a white man does his sins.
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  Speaker 1: But tonight Mukoki's experience had passed beyond the knowledge of
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  Speaker 1: his race, and he told of what happened trembling still cringing,
• 2:03
  Speaker 1: when a great white rabbit darted close to the fire.
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  Speaker 1: Rod and Wabi listened to him in mute astonishment. Could
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  Speaker 1: it have been a wu Wanga, asked Wabi. No wu Wanga,
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  Speaker 1: replied the old warrior, quickly shaking his head. Wuanga, no
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  Speaker 1: make noise like that. He drew away from the fire,
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  Speaker 1: wrapped himself in a blanket, and crept into the shelter
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  Speaker 1: that Rod and Wabiguan had built. The two boys looked
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  Speaker 1: at each other in silence. Muki has certainly had some
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  Speaker 1: most extraordinary adventure, said Wabi at last, I have never
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  Speaker 1: seen him like this before. It is easy to guess
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  Speaker 1: the meaning of the shot. Some of the wu Wangas
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  Speaker 1: may still be in that country, and one of them
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  Speaker 1: saw Mukoki and fired at him. But the scream, what
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  Speaker 1: do you make of that? Do you suppose, whispered Rod,
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  Speaker 1: speaking close to his companion's ear, that Mukoki's imagination helped
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  Speaker 1: him out to night. He paused for a moment as
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  Speaker 1: he saw the look of disapproval in Wabigowan's eyes, and
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  Speaker 1: then went on, I don't mean to hint that he
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  Speaker 1: stretched his story purposely. He was standing on the mountain top.
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  Speaker 1: Suddenly there came a flash of fire, the report of
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  Speaker 1: a rifle, and a bullet zipped close to his head.
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  Speaker 1: And at that same instant, or a moment later, well,
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  Speaker 1: you remember the scream of the lynx. You believe that
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  Speaker 1: it might have been a lynx startled by the shot
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  Speaker 1: and sent screaming across the plain. Yes, impossible. At the
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  Speaker 1: sound of that shot, a lynx would have remained as
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  Speaker 1: still as death. Still, there are always exceptions. Persisted the
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  Speaker 1: white youth. Not in the case of Lynx, declared Wabigowan.
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  Speaker 1: No animal made those cries. Mukoki is as fearless as
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  Speaker 1: a lion. The cry of a Lynx would have stirred
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  Speaker 1: his blood with pleasure instead of fear. Whatever the sounds were,
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  Speaker 1: they turned Mukoki's blood into water. They made him a coward,
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  Speaker 1: and he ran, ran, mind you until he got back
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  Speaker 1: to us. Is that like Mukoki? I tell you the cries?
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  Speaker 1: What were? Something very unusual? Finished Wabigowan, quietly, rising to
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  Speaker 1: his feet. Perhaps we will find out more tomorrow. As
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  Speaker 1: it is, I believe we had better stand guard and
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  Speaker 1: camp tonight. I will go to bed now and you
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  Speaker 1: can awaken me after a while. Wabigowan's words and the
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  Speaker 1: strangeness of his manner put rod Ill at ease, despite
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  Speaker 1: his arguments of a few moments before, and no sooner
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  Speaker 1: did he find himself alone beside the fire. Then he
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  Speaker 1: began to be filled with an unpleasant premonition of lurking danger.
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  Speaker 1: For a time he sat very still, trying to peer
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  Speaker 1: into the shadows beyond the fire, and listening to the
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  Speaker 1: sounds that came to him from out of the night.
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  Speaker 1: As he watched and listened, his brain worked ceaselessly, conjuring
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  Speaker 1: picture after picture of what that danger might be. And
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  Speaker 1: at last he drew out of the fire light and
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  Speaker 1: concealed himself in the deep gloom of the bush. From
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  Speaker 1: here he could see the camp and at the same
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  Speaker 1: time was safe from a possible rifle shot. The night
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  Speaker 1: passed with tedious slowness, and he was glad when a
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  Speaker 1: little after midnight Wabi came out to relieve him. At dawn,
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  Speaker 1: he was in turn awakened by the young Indian. Mukoki
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  Speaker 1: was already up and had prepared his pack. Apparently he
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  Speaker 1: had regained his old spirits, but both Rod and Wabigouan
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  Speaker 1: could see that behind them the fear of the preceding
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  Speaker 1: night still haunted him. That morning, he did not set
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  Speaker 1: off ahead of the two boys with his pack, but
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  Speaker 1: walked beside them, stopping to rest when they lowered their canoe,
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  Speaker 1: his eyes never ceasing their sharp scrutiny of the plain
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  Speaker 1: and distant ridges. Once, when Mukoki mounted a big rock
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  Speaker 1: to look about him, Wabi whispered, I tell you it's strange, Rod,
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  Speaker 1: mighty strange. An hour later, the old warrior halted and
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  Speaker 1: threw off his load. The three had approached within a
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  Speaker 1: quarter of a mile of the dip in the mountain.
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  Speaker 1: Leave canoe here, he said, Go like fox to old camp,
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  Speaker 1: maybe sea. He took the lead, now followed closely by
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  Speaker 1: the boys. The safety of the old pathfinder's rifle was down,
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  Speaker 1: and following his example, Rod and Wabigouwan held their own
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  Speaker 1: guns in readiness for instant fire. As they neared the
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  Speaker 1: summit of the ridge on which Mukoki's life had been attempted,
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  Speaker 1: the suspense of the two young hunters became almost painfully acute.
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  Speaker 1: Mukoki's actions not only astonished them, but set their blood
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  Speaker 1: tingling with his own strange fear. Many times had Wabigowan
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  Speaker 1: seen his faithful comrade in moments of deadly peril, But never,
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  Speaker 1: even when the Wuwongas were close upon their trail, had
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  Speaker 1: he known him to take them as seriously as he
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  Speaker 1: did the ascent of this mountain. Every few steps Mukoki paused,
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  Speaker 1: listening and watchful. Not the smallest twig broke under his
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  Speaker 1: moccasin feet, the movement of the smallest bird, the trembling
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  Speaker 1: of a bush, the scurry of a rabbit halted him,
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  Speaker 1: rigid his rifle half to shoulder, and Rod and Wabigowan
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  Speaker 1: soon became filled with this same panic, stricken fear. What
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  Speaker 1: terrible dread was it that filled Mukoki's soul? Had he
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  Speaker 1: seen something of which he had not told them? Did
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  Speaker 1: he think something which he had not revealed? Foot by
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  Speaker 1: foot the three came to the top of the ridge. There,
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  Speaker 1: Mukoki straightened himself and stood erect. There were no signs
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  Speaker 1: of a living creature about them. Down in the dip
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  Speaker 1: nestled the little lake, gleaming in the midday sun, they
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  Speaker 1: could make out the debris of the burned cabin in
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  Speaker 1: which they had passed their hunting season. And close to
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  Speaker 1: this was the pack which Mukoki had dropped there the
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  Speaker 1: night before. No one had molested it. Wabi's face relaxed, Rod,
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  Speaker 1: breathing easier, laughed softly. What had there been to fear?
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  Speaker 1: He glanced questioningly at Mukoki. There rocks there tree, said
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  Speaker 1: the old warrior. In answer to Rod's glance, Down there
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  Speaker 1: went scream He pointed far out across the plain. Wabi
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  Speaker 1: had gone to the tree. See here, Rod, he cried
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  Speaker 1: by George, This was a close shave. He pointed to
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  Speaker 1: a tiny hole freshly made in the smooth white surface
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  Speaker 1: of the tree. As the others came up. There, stand there, Mukoki,
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  Speaker 1: back to the tree as you said you were when
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  Speaker 1: the shot was fired. Great Caesar, that fellow had a
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  Speaker 1: dead line on your head two inches high. No wonder
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  Speaker 1: it made you think the scream of a lynx was
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  Speaker 1: something else. No lynx, said Mukoki, his face darkening. Shame
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  Speaker 1: on you, Muki, laughed Wabigowan. Don't get angry. I won't
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  Speaker 1: say it again if it makes you mad. Rod had
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  Speaker 1: drawn his hunting knife and was prodding the point of
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  Speaker 1: it the bullet hole. I can feel the ball, he said.
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  Speaker 1: It's not in more than an inch. That's curious, exclaimed Wabigawan,
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  Speaker 1: coming close beside him. It ought to be halfway through
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  Speaker 1: the tree at least, eh Muki, I don't believe it
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  Speaker 1: would have hurt. He stopped. Rod had turned with a sudden,
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  Speaker 1: excited cry. He held out his knife tip upward and
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  Speaker 1: pointed to it with the index finger of his free hand.
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  Speaker 1: Wabi's eyes fell on the tip of the blade. Mukoki
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  Speaker 1: stared for a full half minute. The three stood in
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  Speaker 1: speechless amazement. Clinging to the knife tip was a tiny
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  Speaker 1: flock of yellow gleaming lustrously in the sun. As Rod
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  Speaker 1: slowly turned the handle of his weapon, another gold bullet.
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  Speaker 1: The words fell from Wabi's lips, very slowly and so
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  Speaker 1: low that they were scarce above a whisper. Mukoki seemed
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  Speaker 1: to have ceased breathing. Rod's eyes met the old warriors.
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  Speaker 1: What does it mean? Wabi had pulled his knife and
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  Speaker 1: was digging into the tree a few deep cuts, and
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  Speaker 1: the golden bullet lay exposed to view. What does it mean?
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  Speaker 1: Repeated the white youth. Again, he addressed his question to Mukoki.
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  Speaker 1: Men who shoot bear seem no dead, replied the old pathfinder,
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  Speaker 1: same gun, same gold, same same. What a strange gleam
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  Speaker 1: came for an instant into Mukoki's eyes, and without finishing,
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  Speaker 1: he turned and pointed across the narrow plain that lay
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  Speaker 1: between them and the mysterious chasm which they were to
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  Speaker 1: follow in their search for treasure. Cry went there, he said, shortly,
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  Speaker 1: to the chasm, said Wabi, to the chasm, repeated Rod.
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  Speaker 1: Impelled by the same thought, the three adventurers went toward
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  Speaker 1: the rocks, from which the shot had been fired. Surely
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  Speaker 1: they would discover some sign there, or lower down upon
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  Speaker 1: the plain where the melting snows had softened the earth.
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  Speaker 1: Mukoki led in the search, and foot by foot they
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  Speaker 1: examined the spot where the mysterious marksman must have stood
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  Speaker 1: when he sent his golden bullet so close to the
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  Speaker 1: Indian's head, But not a trace of his presence had
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  Speaker 1: he left behind. Working abreast, the three began the descent
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  Speaker 1: of the ridge. Hardly had they covered a third of
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  Speaker 1: the distance to the plain, when Wabi, who was trailing
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  Speaker 1: between Rod and the old Indian, called out that he
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  Speaker 1: had made a discovery. Mukoki had already reached him when
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  Speaker 1: Rod came up, and the two were gazing silently at
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  Speaker 1: something fluttering from a bush lynk's hair, cried Rod. A
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  Speaker 1: lynx has been this way. He could not entirely conceal
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  Speaker 1: the triumph in his voice. He had been right in
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  Speaker 1: his conjecture of the night before. The cry that had
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  Speaker 1: frightened Mukoki had been made by a lynx. Yes, a
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  Speaker 1: lynx has been this way, A lynx four feet high,
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  Speaker 1: said Wabigawan quietly, and the touch of raillery in his
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  Speaker 1: voice assured Rod that he had still other lessons to
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  Speaker 1: learn in the life of this big wilderness. Lynks don't
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  Speaker 1: grow that big Rod, then it's Rod feared to go
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  Speaker 1: on Lynx fur. That's just what it is. Whoever fired
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  Speaker 1: at Mukoki last night was dressed in skins? Now, can
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  Speaker 1: you tell us what that meansanes? Without waiting for an answer,
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  Speaker 1: Wabigowan resumed his search, but the mountain side gave no
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  Speaker 1: further evidence. Not a footprint was found upon the plain.
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  Speaker 1: If the mysterious person who had fired the golden bullet
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  Speaker 1: had leaped from the mountaintop into space, he could have
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  Speaker 1: left no fewer traces behind him. At the end of
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  Speaker 1: an hour, Rod and his companions returned to the canoe,
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  Speaker 1: carried their loads to the pack in the dip, and
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  Speaker 1: prepared dinner. Their suspense and fear, and specially Mukoki's dread,
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  Speaker 1: were in a large measure gone, But at the same
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  Speaker 1: time they were more hopelessly mystified than ever that there
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  Speaker 1: was danger ahead of them, that the menace of golden
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  Speaker 1: bullets was actual and thrilling. All three were well agreed,
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  Speaker 1: But the sunlight of day and a little sound reasoning
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  Speaker 1: had dispelled their half superstitious terrors of the previous night,
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  Speaker 1: and they began to face the new situation with their
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  Speaker 1: former confidence. We can't let this delay us, said Wabi
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  Speaker 1: as they ate their dinner by night. We ought to
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  Speaker 1: be in our old camp at the head of the chasm,
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  Speaker 1: where we held the Wawanga's at bay last winter. The
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  Speaker 1: sooner we get out of the way of these golden bullets,
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  Speaker 1: the better will be for us. Mukoki shrugged his shoulders.
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  Speaker 1: Gold bullet follow, I guess, so he grunted cry went
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  Speaker 1: there to chasm. I don't believe this fellow, whoever he is,
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  Speaker 1: will hang to our trail, continued Wabi, giving Rod a
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  Speaker 1: suggestive look. A few moments later, he found an opportunity
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  Speaker 1: to whisper. We've got to get that cry out of
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  Speaker 1: Muki's head, Rod, or we'll never find our gold. When
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  Speaker 1: Mukoki had gone to arrange his pack, the young Indian
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  Speaker 1: spoke earnestly to his companion. Mookie isn't afraid of bullets,
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  Speaker 1: either gold or lead. He isn't afraid of any danger
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  Speaker 1: on earth. But that cry haunts him. He is trying
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  Speaker 1: not to let us know, yet it haunts him. Just
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  Speaker 1: the same. Do you know what he is thinking? No,
• 16:20
  Speaker 1: well I do. He is superstitious, like the rest of
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  Speaker 1: his race, and the two gold bullets, the terrible cries,
• 16:28
  Speaker 1: and the fact that we found no tracks upon the
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  Speaker 1: plane are all carrying him toward one conclusion that the
• 16:36
  Speaker 1: strange thing that fired at him is what Bigoon paused
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  Speaker 1: and wiped his face. And it was easy for Rod
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  Speaker 1: to see that he was suppressing some unusual excitement. What
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  Speaker 1: does he think it is? I'm not sure, not quite
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  Speaker 1: sure yet, went on the Indian youth. But listen. It
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  Speaker 1: is a legend in Mukoki's tribe, and always has been
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  Speaker 1: that once in every so many generations, they are visited
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  Speaker 1: by a terrible warrior sent by the Great Spirit, who
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  Speaker 1: takes sacrifice of them, a sacrifice of human life, because
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  Speaker 1: of a great wrong that was once done by their people.
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  Speaker 1: And this warrior, though invisible, has a voice that makes
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  Speaker 1: the mountains quake and the rivers stand still with fear,
• 17:25
  Speaker 1: And in his great bow he shoots shafts that are
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  Speaker 1: made of gold. Do you understand last night I heard
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  Speaker 1: Mukoki talking about it in his sleep. Either we must
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  Speaker 1: hear this cry and find out more about it, or
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  Speaker 1: hurry to a place where it won't be heard again.
• 17:44
  Speaker 1: Golden bullets and cries and Mukoki's superstitions are going to
• 17:48
  Speaker 1: be worse than Wmuanga's if we don't watch out. But
• 17:53
  Speaker 1: the whole thing is as plain as day, declared Rod
• 17:56
  Speaker 1: in astonishment. A man shot at the and the same
• 18:01
  Speaker 1: man shot at Mukoki, and he fired gold each time.
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  Speaker 1: Surely it's not the man part of it interrupted the other.
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  Speaker 1: It's the cry there. Mukoki has his pack ready. Let's
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  Speaker 1: start for the chasm at once. This time the boys
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  Speaker 1: had a heavier burden than usual, for in the canoe
• 18:24
  Speaker 1: they placed one of the two loads carried by Mukoki,
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  Speaker 1: and consequently their progress toward the chasm was much slower
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  Speaker 1: than that across the plain. It was late in the
• 18:35
  Speaker 1: afternoon when they reached the break that led into the chasm,
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  Speaker 1: and as they cautiously made the descent. Now Rod thought
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  Speaker 1: of the thrilling pursuit of the wu Wanga horde, and
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  Speaker 1: how a few weeks before they had discovered this break,
• 18:49
  Speaker 1: just in time for Wabi and him to save their
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  Speaker 1: lives and that of the wounded Mukoki. It was with
• 18:56
  Speaker 1: a feeling almost of awe that the three adventurers penetrate
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  Speaker 1: deeper and deeper into the silent gloom of this mystery
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  Speaker 1: filled gulch between the mountains, And when they reached the bottom,
• 19:07
  Speaker 1: they set their loads down without speaking, their eyes roving
• 19:11
  Speaker 1: over the black walls of rock, their hearts throbbing a
• 19:15
  Speaker 1: little faster with excitement. For here, at this break in
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  Speaker 1: the mountain began the romantic trail drawn by men long dead,
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  Speaker 1: the trail that led to a treasure of gold. As
• 19:28
  Speaker 1: the three sat in silence, the gloom in the chasm thickened.
• 19:33
  Speaker 1: The sun had passed beyond the southwestern forests, and through
• 19:37
  Speaker 1: the narrow rift between the mountain walls, there fell but
• 19:40
  Speaker 1: the ebbing light of day, dissolving itself into the shadows
• 19:44
  Speaker 1: of dusk as it struggled weakly in the cavernous depths.
• 19:48
  Speaker 1: For a few minutes, the swift fading of day into
• 19:51
  Speaker 1: night gripped the adventurers in its spell. What did the
• 19:56
  Speaker 1: lonely solitudes of that chasm hold for them? Where would
• 20:00
  Speaker 1: they lead them? To Rod's mind, there came a picture
• 20:04
  Speaker 1: of the silver fox, and a thought of his dream,
• 20:07
  Speaker 1: When for a few miles he had explored the mysteries
• 20:10
  Speaker 1: of this strange, sunless world shut in by rock walls. Again,
• 20:15
  Speaker 1: he saw the dancing skeletons, heard the rattle of their bones,
• 20:20
  Speaker 1: and watched the wonderful dream battle that had led him
• 20:23
  Speaker 1: to the birch Bark map. While Big Awan, his eyes
• 20:27
  Speaker 1: gleaming in the gathering darkness, thought of their flight from
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  Speaker 1: the outlaws, savages, and Mukoki, the white youth had turned
• 20:36
  Speaker 1: a little to look at the old warrior. Mukoki sat
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  Speaker 1: as rigid as a pillar of stone, and arms reached
• 20:42
  Speaker 1: from him head erect, arms tents, his eyes gleaming strangely,
• 20:48
  Speaker 1: he stared straight out into the gloom between the chasm walls.
• 20:54
  Speaker 1: Rod shivered. He knew, knew, without questioning that Mukoki was
• 20:59
  Speaker 1: thinking of the cry, And at that instant there floated
• 21:03
  Speaker 1: up from the black chaos ahead a sound, a sound,
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  Speaker 1: low and weird, like the moaning of a winter's wind
• 21:11
  Speaker 1: through the pine tops, swelling, advancing until it ended in
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  Speaker 1: a shriek, a shriek that echoed and re echoed between
• 21:20
  Speaker 1: the chasm walls, dying away in a wail that froze
• 21:24
  Speaker 1: the blood of the three who sat and listened end
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  Speaker 1: of Chapter eleven. Recording by Roger Molin