An Ali Baba of the Sierras
Johnny Starleigh found himself again late for school. It was
always happening. It seemed to be inevitable with the process of
going to school at all. And it was no fault "o' his." Something
was always occurring,--some eccentricity of Nature or circumstance
was invariably starting up in his daily path to the schoolroom. He
may not have been "thinkin' of squirrels," and yet the rarest and
most evasive of that species were always crossing his trail; he may
not have been "huntin' honey," and yet a wild bees' nest in the
hollow of an oak absolutely obtruded itself before him; he wasn't
"bird-catchin'," and yet there was a yellow-hammer always within
stone's throw. He had heard how grown men hunters always saw the
most wonderful animals when they "hadn't got a gun with 'em," and
it seemed to be his lot to meet them in his restricted possibilities
on the way to school. If Nature was thus capricious with his
elders, why should folk think it strange if she was as mischievous
with a small boy?
On this particular morning Johnny had been beguiled by the
unmistakable footprints--so like his own!--of a bear's cub. What
chances he had of ever coming up with them, or what he would have
done if he had, he did not know. He only knew that at the end of
an hour and a half he found himself two miles from the schoolhouse,
and, from the position of the sun, at least an hour too late for
school. He knew that nobody would believe him. The punishment for
complete truancy was little worse than for being late. He resolved
to accept it, and by way of irrevocability at once burnt his ships
behind him--in devouring part of his dinner.
Thus fortified in his outlawry, he began to look about him. He was
on a thickly wooded terrace with a blank wall of "outcrop" on one
side nearly as high as the pines which pressed close against it.
He had never seen it before; it was two or three miles from the
highroad and seemed to be a virgin wilderness. But on close
examination he could see, with the eye of a boy bred in a mining
district, that the wall of outcrop had not escaped the attention of
the mining prospector. There were marks of his pick in some
attractive quartz seams of the wall, and farther on, a more
ambitious attempt, evidently by a party of miners, to begin a
tunnel, shown in an abandoned excavation and the heap of debris
before it. It had evidently been abandoned for some time, as ferns
already forced their green fronds through the stones and gravel,
and the yerba buena vine was beginning to mat the surface of the
heap. But the boy's fancy was quickly taken by the traces of a
singular accident, and one which had perhaps arrested the progress
of the excavators. The roots of a large pine-tree growing close to
the wall had been evidently loosened by the excavators, and the
tree had fallen, with one of its largest roots still in the opening
the miners had made, and apparently blocking the entrance. The
large tree lay, as it fell--midway across another but much smaller
outcrop of rock which stood sharply about fifteen feet above the
level of the terrace--with its gaunt, dead limbs in the air at a
low angle. To Johnny's boyish fancy it seemed so easily balanced
on the rock that but for its imprisoned root it would have made a
capital see-saw. This he felt must be looked to hereafter. But
here his attention was arrested by something more alarming. His
quick ear, attuned like an animal's to all woodland sounds,
detected the crackling of underwood in the distance. His equally
sharp eye saw the figures of two men approaching. But as he
recognized the features of one of them he drew back with a beating
heart, a hushed breath, and hurriedly hid himself in the shadow.
For he had seen that figure once before--flying before the sheriff
and an armed posse--and had never forgotten it! It was the figure
of Spanish Pete, a notorious desperado and sluice robber!
Finding he had been unobserved, the boy took courage, and his small
faculties became actively alive. The two men came on together
cautiously, and at a little distance the second man, whom Johnny
did not know, parted from his companion and began to loiter up and
down, looking around as if acting as a sentinel for the desperado,
who advanced directly to the fallen tree. Suddenly the sentinel
uttered an exclamation, and Spanish Pete paused. The sentinel was
examining the ground near the heap of debris.
"What's up?" growled the desperado.
"Foot tracks! Weren't here before. And fresh ones, too."
Johnny's heart sank. It was where he had just passed.
Spanish Pete hurriedly joined his companion.
"Foot tracks be ----!" he said scornfully. "What fool would be
crawlin' round here barefooted? It's a young b'ar!"
Johnny knew the footprints were his own. Yet he recognized the
truth of the resemblance; it was uncomplimentary, but he felt
relieved. The desperado came forward, and to the boy's surprise
began to climb the small ridge of outcrop until he reached the
fallen tree. Johnny saw that he was carrying a heavy stone.
"What's the blamed fool goin' to do?" he said to himself; the man's
evident ignorance regarding footprints had lessened the boy's awe
of him. But the stranger's next essay took Johnny's breath away.
Standing on the fallen tree trunk at its axis on the outcrop, he
began to rock it gently. To Johnny's surprise it began to move.
The upper end descended slowly, lifting the root in the excavation
at the lower end, and with it a mass of rock, and revealing a
cavern behind large enough to admit a man. Johnny gasped. The
desperado coolly deposited the heavy stone on the tree beyond its
axis on the rock, so that it would keep the tree in position,
leaped from the tree to the rock, and quickly descended, at which
he was joined by the other man, who was carrying two heavy chamois-
leather bags. They both proceeded to the opening thus miraculously
disclosed, and disappeared in it.
Johnny sat breathless, wondering, expectant, but not daring to
move. The men might come out at any moment; he had seen enough to
know that their enterprise as well as their cave was a secret, and
that the desperado would subject any witness to it, however
innocent or unwilling, to horrible penalties. The time crept
slowly by,--he heard every rap of a woodpecker in a distant tree; a
blue jay dipped and lighted on a branch within his reach, but he
dared not extend his hand; his legs were infested by ants; he even
fancied he heard the dry, hollow rattle of a rattlesnake not a yard
from him. And then the entrance of the cave was darkened, and the
two men reappeared. Johnny stared. He would have rubbed his eyes
if he had dared. They were not the same men! Did the cave contain
others who had been all the while shut up in its dark recesses?
Was there a band? Would they all swarm out upon him? Should he
run for his life?
But the illusion was only momentary. A longer look at them
convinced him that they were the same men in new clothes and
disguised, and as one remounted the outcrop Johnny's keen eyes
recognized him as Spanish Pete. He merely kicked away the stone;
the root again descended gently over the opening, and the tree
recovered its former angle. The two hurried away, but Johnny
noticed that they were empty-handed. The bags had been left
behind.
The boy waited patiently, listening with his ear to the ground,
like an Indian, for the last rustle of fern and crackle of
underbrush, and then emerged, stiff and cramped from his
concealment. But he no longer thought of flight; curiosity and
ambition burned in his small veins. He quickly climbed up the
outcrop, picked up the fallen stone, and in spite of its weight
lifted it to the prostrate tree. Here he paused, and from his
coign of vantage looked and listened. The solitude was profound.
Then mounting the tree and standing over its axis he tried to rock
it as the others had. Alas! Johnny's heart was stout, his courage
unlimited, his perception all-embracing, his ambition boundless;
but his actual avoirdupois was only that of a boy of ten. The tree
did not move. But Johnny had played see-saw before, and quietly
moved towards its highest part. It slowly descended under the
changed centre of gravity, and the root arose, disclosing the
opening as before. Yet here the little hero paused. He waited
with his eyes fixed on the opening, ready to fly on the sallying
out of any one who had remained concealed. He then placed the
stone where he had stood, leaped down, and ran to the opening.
The change from the dazzling sunlight to the darkness confused him
at first, and he could see nothing. On entering he stumbled over
something which proved to be a bottle in which a candle was fitted,
and a box of matches evidently used by the two men. Lighting the
candle he could now discern that the cavern was only a few yards
long, the beginning of a tunnel which the accident to the tree had
stopped. In one corner lay the clothes that the men had left, and
which for a moment seemed all that the cavern contained, but on
removing them Johnny saw that they were thrown over a rifle, a
revolver, and the two chamois-leather bags that the men had brought
there. They were so heavy that the boy could scarcely lift them.
His face flushed; his hands trembled with excitement. To a boy
whose truant wanderings had given him a fair knowledge of mining,
he knew that weight could have but one meaning! Gold! He
hurriedly untied the nearest bag. But it was not the gold of the
locality, of the tunnel, of the "bed rock"! It was "flake gold,"
the gold of the river! It had been taken from the miners' sluices
in the distant streams. The bags before him were the spoils of the
sluice robber,--spoils that could not be sold or even shown in the
district without danger, spoils kept until they could be taken to
Marysville or Sacramento for disposal. All this might have
occurred to the mind of any boy of the locality who had heard the
common gossip of his elders, but to Johnny's fancy an idea was
kindled peculiarly his own! Here was a cavern like that of the
"Forty Thieves" in the story book, and he was the "Ali Baba" who
knew its secret! He was not obliged to say "Open Sesame," but he
could say it if he liked, if he was showing it off to anybody!
Yet alas he also knew it was a secret he must keep to himself. He
had nobody to trust it to. His father was a charcoal-burner of
small means; a widower with two children, Johnny and his elder
brother Sam. The latter, a flagrant incorrigible of twenty-two,
with a tendency to dissipation and low company, had lately
abandoned his father's roof, only to reappear at intervals of
hilarious or maudlin intoxication. He had always been held up to
Johnny as a warning, or with the gloomy prognosis that he, Johnny,
was already following in his tortuous footsteps. Even if he were
here he was not to be thought of as a confidant. Still less could
he trust his father, who would be sure to bungle the secret with
sheriffs and constables, and end by bringing down the vengeance of
the gang upon the family. As for himself, he could not dispose of
the gold if he were to take it. The exhibition of a single flake
of it to the adult public would arouse suspicion, and as it was
Johnny's hard fate to be always doubted, he might be connected with
the gang. As a truant he knew he had no moral standing, but he
also had the superstition--quite characteristic of childhood--that
being in possession of a secret he was a participant in its
criminality--and bound, as it were, by terrible oaths! And then a
new idea seized him. He carefully put back everything as he had
found it, extinguished the candle, left the cave, remounted the
tree, and closed the opening again as he had seen the others do it,
with the addition of murmuring "Shut Sesame" to himself, and then
ran away as fast as his short legs could carry him.
Well clear of the dangerous vicinity, he proceeded more leisurely
for about a mile, until he came to a low whitewashed fence,
inclosing a small cultivated patch and a neat farmhouse beyond.
Here he paused, and, cowering behind the fence, with extraordinary
facial contortions produced a cry not unlike the scream of a blue
jay. Repeating it at intervals, he was presently relieved by
observing the approach of a nankeen sunbonnet within the inclosure
above the line of fence. Stopping before him, the sun-bonnet
revealed a rosy little face, more than usually plump on one side,
and a neck enormously wrapped in a scarf. It was "Meely" (Amelia)
Stryker, a schoolmate, detained at home by "mumps," as Johnny was
previously aware. For, with the famous indiscretion of some other
great heroes, he was about to intrust his secret and his destiny to
one of the weaker sex. And what were the minor possibilities of
contagion to this?
"Playin' hookey ag'in?" said the young lady, with a cordial and
even expansive smile, exclusively confined to one side of her face.
"Um! So'd you be ef you'd bin whar I hev," he said with harrowing
mystery.
"No!--say!" said Meely eagerly.
At which Johnny, clutching at the top of the fence, with hurried
breath told his story. But not all. With the instinct of a true
artist he withheld the manner in which the opening of the cave was
revealed, said nothing about the tree, and, I grieve to say, added
the words "Open Sesame" as the important factor to the operation.
Neither did he mention the name of Spanish Pete. For all of which
he was afterwards duly grateful.
"Meet me at the burnt pine down the crossroads at four o'clock," he
said in conclusion, "and I'll show ye."
"Why not now?" said Meely impatiently.
"Couldn't. Much as my life is worth! Must keep watching out! You
come at four."
And with an assuring nod he released the fence and trotted off. He
returned cautiously in the direction of the cave; he was by no
means sure that the robbers might not return that day, and his
mysterious rendezvous with Meely veiled a certain prudence. And it
was well! For as he stealthily crept around the face of the
outcrop, hidden in the ferns, he saw from the altered angle of the
tree that the cavern was opened. He remained motionless, with
bated breath. Then he heard the sound of subdued voices from the
cavern, and a figure emerged from the opening. Johnny grasped the
ferns rigidly to check the dreadful cry that rose to his lips at
its sight. For that figure was his own brother!
There was no mistaking that weak, wicked face, even then flushed
with liquor! Johnny had seen it too often thus. But never before
as a thief's face! He gave a little gasp, and fell back upon that
strange reserve of apathy and reticence in which children are apt
to hide their emotions from us at such a moment. He watched
impassively the two other men who followed his brother out to give
him a small bag and some instructions, and then returned within
their cave, while his brother walked quickly away. He watched him
disappear; he did not move, for even if he had followed him he
could not bear to face him in his shame. And then out of his
sullen despair came a boyish idea of revenge. It was those two men
who had made his brother a thief!
He was very near the tree. He crept stealthily on his hands and
knees through the bracken, and as stealthily climbed the wedge of
outcrop, and then leaped like a wild cat on the tree. With
incredible activity he lifted the balancing stone, and as the tree
began to move, in a flash of perception transferred it to the other
side of its axis, and felt the roots and debris, under that
additional weight, descend quickly with something like a crash over
the opening. Then he took to his heels. He ran so swiftly that
all unknowingly he overtook a figure, who, turning, glanced at him,
and then disappeared in the wood. It was his second and last view
of his brother, as he never saw him again!
But now, strange to say, the crucial and most despairing moment of
his day's experience had come. He had to face Meely Stryker under
the burnt pine, and the promise he could not keep, and to tell her
that he had lied to her. It was the only way to save his brother
now! His small wits, and alas! his smaller methods, were equal to
the despairing task. As soon as he saw her waiting under the tree
he fell to capering and dancing with an extravagance in which
hysteria had no small part. "Sold! sold! sold again, and got the
money!" he laughed shrilly.
The girl looked at him with astonishment, which changed gradually
to scorn, and then to anger. Johnny's heart sank, but he redoubled
his antics.
"Who's sold?" she said disdainfully.
"You be. You swallered all that stuff about Ali Baba! You wanted
to be Morgy Anna! Ho! ho! And I've made you play hookey--from
home!"
"You hateful, horrid, little liar!"
Johnny accepted his punishment meekly--in his heart gratefully. "I
reckoned you'd laugh and not get mad," he said submissively. The
girl turned, with tears of rage and vexation in her eyes, and
walked away. Johnny followed at a humble distance. Perhaps there
was something instinctively touching in the boy's remorse, for they
made it up before they reached her fence.
Nevertheless Johnny went home miserable. Luckily for him, his
father was absent at a Vigilance Committee called to take
cognizance of the late sluice robberies, and although this
temporarily concealed his offense of truancy, the news of the
vigilance meeting determined him to keep his lips sealed. He lay
all night wondering how long it would take the robbers to dig
themselves out of the cave, and whether they suspected their
imprisonment was the work of an enemy or only an accident. For
several days he avoided the locality, and even feared the vengeful
appearance of Spanish Pete some night at his father's house. It
was not until the end of a fortnight that he had the courage to
revisit the spot. The tree was in its normal position, but
immovable, and a great quantity of fresh debris at the mouth of the
cave convinced him that the robbers, after escaping, had abandoned
it as unsafe. His brother did not return, and either the activity
of the Vigilance Committee or the lack of a new place of rendezvous
seemed to have dispersed the robbers from the locality, for they
were not heard of again.
The next ten years brought an improvement to Mr. Starleigh's
fortunes. Johnny Starleigh, then a student at San Jose, one
morning found a newspaper clipping in a letter from Miss Amelia
Stryker. It read as follows: "The excavators in the new tunnel in
Heavystone Ridge lately discovered the skeletons of two unknown
men, who had evidently been crushed and entombed some years
previously, by the falling of a large tree over the mouth of their
temporary refuge. From some river gold found with them, they were
supposed to be part of the gang of sluice robbers who infested the
locality some years ago, and were hiding from the Vigilants."
For a few days thereafter Johnny Starleigh was thoughtful and
reserved, but he did not refer to the paragraph in answering the
letter. He decided to keep it for later confidences, when Miss
Stryker should become Mrs. Starleigh.
-THE END-
Bret Harte's short story: An Ali Baba of the Sierras
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