Chance Encounters, page 27
“Who, for instance?” Jeremiah asked warily.
“Ormond and his boys.”
“I knew it! You have some secret deal with this guy.”
“No, I don’t. But think of how much gold there must be here. And on the bottom, now holding back the new lake.” They both looked at the lake. “Do you think that just the two of us can handle all that?”
There was a long silence as each followed his own train of thought. Jeremiah’s conflict was obvious as it played out on his face. Chance was overwhelmed by the extent of their success. He’d prepared for failure but not for a windfall of this magnitude.
“I still don’t feel right about giving this away. Believe me, soon as it becomes known, the entire country will be here digging.”
“Sooner or later it will become known. There’s no way of preventing that. So what can we do to maximize our profit? Turn professional as you’ve been saying...” The word profit calmed Jeremiah down, but it still took half the night to come up with a plan both could agree to. They’d collect the surface stuff, perhaps as much as 60 pounds, stash it somewhere safe, then call in Ormond’s boys. Maybe by the time the news got out they would have harvested most of it.
By the morning Jeremiah reverted to his former stance of saying nothing and giving nothing away. As they worked, it took Chance the rest of the day to bring him to reason. The next day was the same, but each day Jeremiah came closer to giving in.
Chance tried again. “Partner, we already have enough to set up each of us comfortably for life. I’d be satisfied with that. You’re rich, I’m rich with what we already have. And if we make a deal with Ormond’s company we’ll get even richer. We’ll no longer have to work our hands to the bone or stand in cold water, panning.” In the end even Jeremiah had to admit that the task was too large for just the two of them so reluctantly he surrendered.
Over the next five days, they finished harvesting the surface of the slope, transported what they’d collected to a cave about an hour away, and buried it deep in a back corner. It took both of them two trips to complete the transfer.
In the morning, they went over every detail again. Jeremiah was to stay, gather as much as he could and hide it somewhere. Chance was to go to Rainbow Falls and work out a contract. The rest was up to God. No doubt the news would get out but by then they would have the place well staked out, and if the boys from the other two operations at Highland Trail and Wolverine Pass also came, they’d have this place nearly picked clean before the real crowds arrived.
The only point of contention remaining was how much of the pie to yield. Jeremiah was insisting on a 60-40 split, 60 for Jeremiah and Chance and 40 for the rest of the outfit; on that he wouldn’t yield.
Chance set off, and still Jeremiah yelled after him, “60-40. Don’t sell us out.” Chance waved one more time before he disappeared under the trees.
It took him until noon of the second day to reach the Rainbow Falls fort. Along the way he came to terms with yielding 40 percent to the Carmody family. Who better? he thought. Everybody gets to profit.
Joshua, on lookout, hurried to open up for Chance. He led him direct to Brooks, who appeared surprised but pleased to see him.
“I got a letter from the Carmodys just the other day, mentioning you.”
“Really?” For some reason that fact pleased Chance. “What did they say?”
“Just that if you’re ever in Toronto you must visit them. They stressed the must part.”
After they were alone, Chance laid out his news and offer. Disbelieving at first, Brooks just shook his head. But with more detail, he started getting excited.
“Are you telling me that the stuff just lies on top of the ground? How come nobody ever stumbled across it?” Brooks demanded.
“The mud slide tore the hill wide open, exposing we’re not quite sure what. We don’t know how deep it goes or how much there is in total. We just know we can’t handle it by ourselves. So we’re willing to split. Are you in or out?”
“Split? How?”
“We were thinking 60 for us, 40 for your crew.”
“Not a chance. We want 75 for our end.” The deal was still hypothetical, contingent upon the confirmation that there was real gold to be mined, but the percentages were already rock solid.
“I can go to Bear Claw and come back with a hundred miners for much less.”
“True, and they’d rob you blind.”
“All right, we can live with 55 for us 45 for you.”
“You’re asking me to buy the horse unseen. I wasn’t born yesterday. We could talk about 70 percent for us.”
It took more than three hours to settle on 50 percent for the Morning Wish Company and 50 for Last Chance Company, which Chance now called his partnership with Jeremiah. They wrote it down in a contract.
“And we keep whatever we’ve already collected, right up to the date your crew starts.”
“That seems reasonable.”
“Then write it in,” Chance directed. Afterwards he carefully read the document and signed it, while Brooks signed on behalf of the Morning Wish Company. Chance knew of course that the contract was only as good as the men honoring it. Still they shook hands on it after Brooks spit on his hands to properly seal the bargain.
Brooks pulled out a bottle and shoved it over to Chance. “Real HBC scotch, not some rot-gut whiskey.” He poured them a drink. “Well, here’s to a profitable partnership. I think you’re exaggerating, but if your claim is only half as good as you say, I’ll be satisfied.” He lifted his glass and tossed the drink down. So did Chance.
“We really don’t know what lies underneath, just what was on the surface.”
“Just how much have you collected already?” Brooks asked, looking at the new partner speculatively.
“I’m not telling.”
“Fine way to start a partnership,” snapped Brooks, irked by the refusal.
“You would have had it, had you allowed us the 60 percent I asked for.”
“Well and good then.” And Brooks tossed down another drink.
They decided further that Brooks would go back with Chance, check out the site and then bring in Ormond’s crew right away and after, whatever manpower they needed. Sounded good to Chance. It was near morning before the two went to bed, only to rise at daybreak to set off.
Chapter 25
Led by Chance, Brooks and Joshua climbed up the final slope. Up ahead Jeremiah watched them coming, apprehensively. The three men dropped their packs by the fire and were quickly introduced.
Chance pointed to the slide, “Why don’t you go see if I told you the truth?” The other two hurried over and started digging into the upturned earth with bare hands.
“Watch it, the slope’s still unstable,” Jeremiah yelled after them, then turned to Chance. “Did you get the 60-40 deal?”
“Almost.” Then he took a big breath and admitted, “They get 50 and we also get 50.”
“Didn’t I tell you not to sell us out?!!” Jeremiah could barely speak past his upset.
“Relax. I didn’t give your share away. I yielded from my share.” That took the wind out of his partner’s sails.
“You mean I get 30 and you only 20?”
“Exactly. I’m really not greedy.” Jeremiah was speechless; he didn’t know how to start a fight with that.
Suddenly yelling broke out from the slide. Joshua was hollering, a good-sized nugget in his hand. Brooks soon found one too, and the two of them danced around kissing the gold.
“Watch your footing, the soil is unsteady!” Jeremiah called, cursing such fools, but he was grinning from ear to ear.
By nightfall, they’d each found a whole lot more. With shining eyes, Brooks looked at the daily take and then at Chance. “I think, my friend, you didn’t lie hard enough.”
“Then you’re satisfied?” Chance asked.
“Hell, yes! Tomorrow I’ll send Joshua over to get Ormond here pronto. The sooner we start the better, to get as much done as possible before the tide arrives. Agreed?”
Jeremiah and Chance nodded. “And the contract goes into effect when they start work here,” Chance added, reminding him of the terms.
“You mean I can’t keep this?” Brooks looked disappointed.
“You both can keep what you’ve collected today, but full dividing according to contract won’t begin until the work’s started.” Much happier, the two men settled by the fire, while the partners crawled into their cave.
“You were mighty generous there,” Jeremiah complained.
“You’ll find that a satisfied mule works much harder than an unsatisfied one. No need to be greedy.”
Jeremiah grumbled some more then said somewhat reluctantly, “When we started we made a deal. 50-50. I’ll stand by that. I’ll yield my 30 percent and settle at 25 for both of us.”
“Jeremiah, that’s generous of you, but I’m satisfied with my 20. After things get on a proper footing, I intend to leave you alone and get on my way.”
“Where’re you going?” Jeremiah burst out, panicking.
“First to Toronto. I have put off too long what I should’ve done long ago.”
“Why, for Christ’s sake, would you leave me here with all the gold?”
“Of what we already collected, I take half, but for the rest you keep your 30 percent. Just send me my 20 percent from time to time.”
Jeremiah blinked at him for a while, not knowing what to be more upset about. Breaking up a partnership seemed like sacrilege to him. He could understand parting because of failure but with such success staring them in the face?
“Jeremiah, we’ll always be partners, you and I, for life. You also have permission to steal me blind if that’s what you want.”
“Hell no! What do you take me for?” And for the first time Chance saw tears flow from Jeremiah’s eyes.
Chance pulled a wrapped package from his coat pocket, handing it over to Jeremiah. “I got this specially for you.”
Curious, Jeremiah unwrapped the bundle to exclaim over the finest snuff one could find in this part of the world. “Mercator Mix! How did you know?”
“I saw you sniffing it in Vancouver. You seemed mighty taken with the stuff.”
“I was and still am. This thing saved my life,” Jeremiah declared, as he shook some powder onto the back of his hand and sniffed at it, then in two snuffs sucked in the rest, sneezing loudly four times afterward. “That’s good, so very good.” He then tweaked his nose to settle the excitement of the membrane down. “After one of my failed attempts in the gold fields, when everyone was finding gold but not me, I was left very depressed. That winter, I hooked up with a prostitute and she introduced me to opium dens. Before long, I was near comatose, lying there, puffing on a pipe, lost in some hazy dream. I didn’t want to drink or eat, just smoke my life away. Then I ran out of money and I was thrown out onto the street. A church group picked me out of the gutter, cleaned me up and tried to save me. But I relapsed... until one day an herbalist gave me snuff and though that didn’t cure me, it gave me enough strength to chase the dragon away. So I owe this little powder a lot.” And he took another sniff, and sneezed.
*****
In three days Ormond arrived with his crew. “Is it true?” was the first thing he wanted to know.
“More than true,” Brooks assured him. “I want you to send someone back to Highland and Wolverine camps to bring the rest of men here. We need planks, nails and stakes to build a real sluice box... Hell, bring everything.”
Brooks then set his men to specific tasks and they swarmed over the open wound of the slide, now a little more secure as the ground had dried out some. The men were eager, digging, scattering earth and stone. Soon the first sounds of jubilation broke out, followed quickly by others. Brooks walked over to Chance and Jeremiah by the fire.
“So now we’re according to the contract, are we not?”
“Yes, from now on you get your full 50 percent,” Chance declared with ringing authority. Jeremiah nodded from behind his plume of smoke. A little later he said, “You know, I could get used to watching other people earn money for me.” It seemed he finally accepted the good luck that had dropped in his lap.
Chance just shook his head wondering. This was all because the rains fell and the earth slid, as it must have done many times before.
Home
Chapter 26
Although there was talk in Ottawa of building a Canadian Transcontinental Railway, in 1872 the work had not yet begun. Thus the best route that Chance could plot was to make his way south to Vancouver by whatever means available, then continue by boat to San Francisco to take the American Transcontinental to Chicago, switch to a trunk line to Cleveland, and from there sail the last leg on a steamer across Lake Erie through the Welland Canal and Lake Ontario to land in Toronto. It looked simple enough on paper, but the reality turned out to be much more difficult.
Taking only a portion of his gold, Chance started out, tracking through the rough country on foot along the Omineca River east to Takla Lake. From there, a short boat ride took him to Fort St. James, the district headquarters of the Hudson Bay Company. Then on to Fort George. He then headed south, over roads that weren’t roads at all, but ruts mired in mud or bumping over exposed bedrock; over waterways full of rapids and portages. Chance finally reached the Fraser River which took him at the river’s pace to Vancouver. The rigors of the six weeks journey cost him 14 pounds of body weight.
He stayed only three days in Vancouver, cashing in a little of the gold (not to call attention to it), and booked himself a passage to San Francisco. Though now he could easily afford first class, he took steerage. It still felt strange to be a passenger instead of being part of the crew.
San Francisco was the same as when he’d last been in it, but with money in his pocket, the experience was much different. He stayed in a better place, ate good food, and got himself some new clothes to travel in, nothing flashy, well made durable stuff. Chance didn’t remain long, but got on the railroad that wound its way through the Rockies and the high Sierras. He sat by the window, critically scanning the work that the Chinese railroad workers had carved through the tortuous route. In the day’s paper, he read about the ongoing scandals about railroad stock manipulations. Politicians had fallen, and tycoons were vilified in print.
It took days to reach the segment Chance had worked on. As the train crossed Monk’s Gap, he recalled how long they’d to wait for precut timber from the East to build the long trestle bridge. He saw the occasional town pass by, the footprint of Hell on Wheels, but the vigor and excitement was missing, and many had turned into ghost towns. All signs of Emily’s Junction was gone, reclaimed by the prairie. There were ranches and farms on both sides of the rails as people, lured by the often-false promotions of the railroad real-estate, tried to wrestle a living from frontier land. It wasn’t till he reached the Missouri River that a real city appeared again, made of solid bricks and mortar not clapboard hastily nailed together.
Chance then took a northern trunk rail, arriving in Chicago on a fine autumn day. The town was billed as having the fastest population growth of all American cities. Buildings were going up everywhere, houses among factories, but water, sewage and roads hadn’t caught up with the expansion. Chance stayed two days at the Grant, enjoying the luxury of fine dining, recalling how he subsisted on beans and hardtack in the gold fields. It was in the lobby on his last day that the newspapers trumpeted new gold discoveries in British Columbia. He read the paper and true enough, Omineca River was pinpointed as the centre of a new rush. Chance wondered how Jeremiah was coping with the wave of prospectors descending on him.
As the train pulled out of the station and passed through the city core, Chance, looking back, saw a plume of smoke rise above the skyline.
“What’s that?” Chance asked the conductor, pointing at the spread of smoke.
“Oh, nothing. Most houses are made of wood and there’s always something burning down.”
As they left the city, Chance saw the smoke thickening, even after the city sank under the horizon.
Arriving in Toledo he read that the whole of Chicago was burning, with thousands dead, and what remained was under martial law. On the opposing track, Toledo firemen were loading equipment to go to the aid of a beleaguered fellow city.
In Cleveland, Chicago was still reported to be burning, according to the latest telegraph dispatches, but only half the city was in danger. The number of victims was also revised downward. People were said to be praying in churches for a change of wind to avert the loss of the entire city.
For the final stretch, Chance took a two-stack steamer named Lady Godiva across Lake Erie. Halfway, the winds picked up, nearly driving the ship aground on Long Point, that was already a graveyard of ships. They entered the Welland Canal, which was surprisingly wide to allow lake shipping to pass through. Observing from the deck, Chance recalled his days on the narrow boats and how much smaller the canals back in England were.
Lake Ontario was calm and the ship docked in Toronto harbor without incident. Disembarking, Chance wasn’t bothered by any formalities. He took a cab, and at the advice of the driver, booked into Three Crowns, a mid quality hotel. Before falling asleep, he calculated that it had taken him three and a half months to complete the trip, but figured that only about a fifth of that time he had actually been moving.
Next morning he went for a walk, just to orient himself. People on the street, he noted, were speaking the Queen’s English without the variety of accents the Americans indulged in. Everywhere he saw British flags flying, and pictures of Queen Victoria displayed in the shop windows. Seemed like the city was proud of its English heritage. It was an odd feeling to be thrust back into the veneration of royalty after such a span of time away from it.
The paper said that Chicago was still burning, a full third of it at risk. Preachers and politicians were calling for massive charity to help the victims. Hundreds dead, thousands dispossessed. The paper also worried about the same happening here: Could we save our city? the headline queried.
