Dipper of Copper Creek (American Woodland Tales) by Jean Craighead George & John George

Author:Jean Craighead George & John George [George, Jean Craighead]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Juvenile Fiction
ISBN: 9781453224434
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2011-08-09T06:00:00+00:00

Doug watched the badger with pleasure, and felt a little more at home in the presence of this animal, so relaxed and at ease in the solitary mountain tops. Doug returned to camp and slept well that night.

The following day, the man and the boy got the first beam into the mine and then rested. Bill’s real belief in their work carried the boy along, until once more he felt the excitement of the summer. In the afternoon they went back for another log. They worked on the mine timbers for three more days.

On the dawn of the seventh day they loaded two bags of ore.

“I’m taking a lot of this ore down,” Bill confided. “I haven’t been kicking around these mountains for nothing. This is good. Might be worth two hundred dollars a ton.”

“Two hundred dollars a ton!” Doug repeated. Was this the fortune they had come to find? Was his grandfather crazy from the altitude, or was he telling him a prospector’s yarn so that he would not run through the streets of Crested Butte shouting “silver.”

Two hundred dollars meant that they were taking back little more than twenty dollars’ worth of ore in the two one-hundred-pound sacks.

Whispering Bill eyed his companion and saw that he was disappointed. He poked him.

“You thought it was all play, didn’t you? No sir, this is dog hard work, and a crazy way to earn a living. But look what you get. What other job takes you into the mighty heart of the mountains? What else can you do and watch badgers, and flowers that bloom in the ice?”

Whispering Bill chuckled and the sunlight shone from every furrow of his face.

The next day Doug was helping Bill break camp and tie the ore on Lodestone, before he was aware that they were working like a team. They packed some of the camping equipment but left most of the things behind for the next trip. Bill stowed the utensils that they needed at the cabin in a rucksack and handed it to Doug.

The boy was about to tie it on the horse when he realized that he was to carry it down himself. It was heavy, but he got it on his back and accepted his load. Bill led the way and they started down the mountain. Grandpa walked, too.

When they reached the beaver ponds, Doug paused. The green world was so restful to his burned eyes, and the silence of the meadow was so silent after the constant roar of the wind and rumble of the rocks above timberline.

He stood and sighed in the greenness. He had adjusted to the peaks the second day he was in them and had forgotten how noisy they were. Now the beaver ponds seemed like home, and the thought of the old cabin was glorious. The pack lightened and Doug went down the trail with a lilting step. Bill and Lodestone had trouble keeping the pace he set.

A beaver saw them coming and slapped her rough tail as she dove into the pond.

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