The Secret Valley

  THE SECRET VALLEY

  Dedication

  To Bert Gray

  Contents

  Dedication

  There’s Gold in California

  I The Wagon Train

  Night on the Prairie

  II Indians

  Lighten the Load

  III California

  Johnny Am a Lingo Lay

  IV Father John

  With My Pick and My Shovel and My Pan

  V Gold

  Father John’s House

  VI At Father John’s House

  The Golden Land

  VII The Nugget

  Rock the Cradle

  VIII At the Stream

  I’ll Make You a Map

  IX The Map

  Looking for a Letter

  X A Letter to Miss Polly

  The Deer

  XI The Secret Valley

  We Found Gold

  XII Gold in California

  Excerpt from A Lion to Guard Us

  About the Author

  By Clyde Robert Bulla

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  There’s Gold in California

  I

  The Wagon Train

  It was early morning. The sun was not up, and the moon was shining on a cabin near the Missouri River.

  There were four people inside the cabin. One was a girl eight years old. She was standing on a chair. Her father, mother, and brother stood around her while she wrote her name on the cabin wall.

  “Ellen Davis,” she wrote in big, black letters.

  “Good!” said her father. “Now it’s your brother’s turn.”

  The boy took the pencil. He stood on tip-toe and wrote under his sister’s name, “Frank Davis.”

  His mother was next. “Mary Davis,” she wrote.

  The man wrote his name last of all, “Henry Davis.”

  Then he wrote under the names, “All left for California April 26, 1849.”

  “When people stop here, they can read this,” he said. “It will tell them we lived here and where we have gone.”

  He blew out the candle. They all went outside.

  The wagon was ready. Hitched to it were the two mules, Spud and Spike.

  “Kitty, kitty, kitty!” called Ellen, and a yellow kitten came running.

  “He wants to go to California, too,” said Frank.

  “We can’t take a cat,” said Mr. Davis.

  “We can’t leave him here,” said Ellen. “Please, let us take him.”

  “It’s a long, hard trip to California,” said Mr. Davis. “Who would take care of a cat all the way?”

  “Ellen and I can take care of him,” said Frank.

  “He is just a little cat. See?” Ellen held the kitten up in her hands. “He won’t take much room in the wagon.”

  “I don’t think anyone ever took a cat across the West in a covered wagon,” said Mr. Davis. “But if you want to try, I won’t stop you.”

  He helped Mrs. Davis into the wagon and sat on the seat beside her. Frank and Ellen sat in the back, with the kitten between them.

  “Spud—Spike—get up!” shouted Mr. Davis. The wheels turned.

  “Here we go,” said Frank. “We’re on our way to California.”

  “Will we ever come back here?” asked Ellen.

  “When we get to California and find gold,” said Frank, “we won’t want to come back.”

  “What if we don’t find gold?” asked Ellen.

  “Everyone finds gold in California,” Frank told her. “Some men found it first at a place called Sutter’s Mill. Then they found it in the rivers and rocks and under the trees. We’ll be rich. You wait and see.”

  The wagon rolled along. The sky grew lighter. Birds woke up and began to sing.

  “I know what I want when we get to California,” said Ellen. “I want a garden.”

  “You had a garden here in Missouri,” said Frank.

  “It wasn’t a good one. It was full of rocks, and the rabbits came and ate all my beans. I want a real garden, with flowers on the sides and things to eat in the middle. That’s what I want in California.”

  “I want some land with good grass on it, so I can raise sheep and cows,” said Frank. “That‘s what I want in California.”

  “Mother wants a house with a good roof and glass in the windows,” said Ellen.

  “And Father wants to find gold, so we can have all these things,” said Frank.

  He climbed over the bags and boxes to the front of the wagon. He called to Ellen, “Come and look out!”

  She climbed after him. They stood behind their father and mother and looked out. They had come to a town.

  “This is St. Joe,” said Mr. Davis.

  “Oh, look!” cried Ellen.

  Back of the town was a high hill. The sun was coming up behind it. On top of the hill was a long line of covered wagons. Some had horses hitched to them. Some had mules, and others had oxen.

  “Look at the people in the wagons,” said Frank. “Are they going to California, too?”

  “Yes,” said his father. “We are all going together. We are going to help each other on the way.”

  They drove up the hill. A tall man in high boots came over to them.

  “Here is Jim Welles,” said Mr. Davis. “He is the leader.”

  “Hello,” said Jim Welles. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yes, we are all ready,” said Mr. Davis. “This is my wife.”

  Jim Welles took off his hat to Mrs. Davis.

  “And this is my boy Frank, and here is my girl Ellen,” said Mr. Davis.

  Jim Welles smiled at them. “You must be the youngest two in our wagon train.”

  “I’m ten,” said Frank, “and Ellen is eight.”

  “Then you are the youngest two,” said Jim Welles.

  “No, here is the youngest!” Ellen held up the kitten.

  Jim Welles laughed. “Some of the men have dogs, but you have the only cat in the wagon train. What is his name?”

  “We just call him kitty,” said Frank.

  “Why don’t you call him Nugget?” said Jim Welles. “He looks like one.”

  “What is a nugget?” asked Ellen.

  “A nugget is a piece of gold,” Jim Welles told her, “and your cat is the color of gold.”

  “That’s a good name,” said Frank.

  “I like it, too,” said Ellen. “Let’s call him Nugget.”

  Jim Welles told Mr. Davis, “Get your wagon in line. We’ll soon be on our way.”

  Mr. Davis drove the wagon into the line. Men shouted to their horses, mules, and oxen. The wagon train began to move—west toward California.

  Night on the Prairie

  II

  Indians

  The wagons rolled across Kansas. Before many days Frank and Ellen knew everyone in the wagon train.

  They knew the scouts, Buck and Tony. Sometimes the scouts rode ahead to watch for Indians.

  They knew Bill Miller, the boy from Illinois. He was older than they were, but he liked to play with them. At night they played hide-and-seek among the wagons, or they sat by the campfire and talked.

  Ellen liked the nights best of all. The wagons were pulled up in a circle. The animals were tied where they could eat grass. The men built fires.

  After supper everyone sat around the campfires. Some of the men told stories and sang songs. One man played his fiddle. Frank and Ellen wanted him to play on and on. But after a while someone would say, “Time for bed. We have to get up early in the morning.”

  Frank liked the nights, but he liked the days better. Every day there were new things to see. There were wolves on the prairie. There were buffalo herds.

  Sometimes Buck, one of
the scouts, took him for a horseback ride.

  One day Buck said, “I’m going ahead to look for water. Do you want to ride with me?”

  Frank climbed up behind him. They rode away.

  “See those trees?” said Buck. “We may find water there.”

  They rode across the prairie. They stopped under the trees.

  Among the trees Frank saw a high, rocky bank. Water ran out of it and into a pool below.

  “It’s a big spring,” said Frank.

  “See those tracks around the pool?” said Buck. “Wild animals come here to drink. This is their water hole.”

  “There is one that looks like a man’s track,” said Frank.

  “It is a man’s track!” said Buck.

  Just then the horse jumped.

  “Look!” cried Frank.

  High on the bank above the pool stood an Indian. He wore only a few clothes. His face was painted green.

  For a moment he stood there. Then he was gone behind the rocks.

  “Hold on, Frank!” said Buck. He turned the horse around. They rode back to the wagon as fast as they could go.

  “We saw an Indian,” said Buck.

  People called from wagon to wagon, “An Indian! They saw an Indian!”

  Jim Welles told the men to drive the wagons up in a circle. “Everyone stay inside the circle,” he said. “Keep the animals inside, too. These Indians may be friendly, but load your guns and be ready.”

  Mr. Davis helped get the guns ready. Mrs. Davis, Frank, and Ellen got into the wagon. Frank looked out the back.

  Far out on the prairie he saw something move. It was a man on a horse. Behind him came more men on horses.

  Frank tried to count them. He told Ellen, “There must be fifty Indians.”

  Ellen looked out. “I see some with their faces painted green.”

  “They look like the one I saw by the water hole,” said Frank. “See the man in front, on the spotted pony? He must be the chief.”

  “They don’t have guns,” said Ellen.

  “No,” said Frank, “but they have bows and arrows.”

  Close to the wagons the Indians stopped. The Indian in front held up his hand.

  “Friend!” he said.

  The other Indians said it, too. “Friend—friend!”

  The men came out from behind the wagons. The Indians made signs to show that they wanted to trade with the white men. They had furs and horses to trade.

  “No,” said Jim Welles. “We have horses, and we don’t need furs. But we are glad you are our friends. Will you eat with us?”

  The Indians got off their horses and sat on the ground.

  The women and some of the men built a fire and made coffee. They brought out ham and corn-cakes.

  “Good, good!” said the Indians. They ate with both hands. They burned their mouths on the hot coffee.

  Frank and Ellen stood near them. Ellen had Nugget in her arms.

  An Indian boy came up to her. He patted the kitten’s head. “Mew-cat,” he said. He pointed to the kitten, then to his bow and arrow.

  “He wants to trade his bow and arrow for your cat,” said her father.

  “Oh, no!” She ran away and hid Nugget in the wagon. Frank ran with her. He took his old knife out of the wagon and went back to the Indian boy.

  “Will you trade your bow and arrow for this?” he asked.

  The Indian boy held out his hand. He took the knife and gave Frank the bow and arrow.

  When the Indians had eaten all the food, they went to their horses. As they rode away, the Indian boy looked back.

  “Good-by,” he said, and waved the knife.

  “Good-by,” said Frank, and waved the bow and arrow.

  Ellen looked out of the wagon. She had Nugget in her arms. The Indian boy saw them.

  “Good-by, mew-cat!” he said.

  It sounded so funny that Frank and Ellen began to laugh. But the Indian boy looked sad.

  Lighten the Load

  III

  California

  Indians came out nearly every day to see the wagon train. They were friendly, and they all wanted to eat.

  “If we feed them all,” said Mrs. Davis, “we won’t have enough food for ourselves.”

  But they always had food on the prairie. They had buffalo meat, and they caught fish. Once they found some wild strawberries, red and ripe and sweet.

  They came to the end of the prairie. There were rivers to cross. When the water was not deep, they could drive through it. When it was deep, the men had to make a ferry-boat to take the wagons across.

  Summer came, and the trail grew dry and dusty. The dust made Frank and Ellen sneeze.

  Sometimes the air was full of bugs. They were big, brown bugs. They flew into the wagon. The cat patted them with his paws.

  “Let’s go fast,” said Ellen, “and get away from the bugs.”

  “There are worse things than bugs,” her mother told her.

  Ellen found out that there were worse things than bugs. There were long, hot days. There were mountains to cross.

  Some of the wagons were too heavy. The animals could not pull them up the mountains.

  “Lighten the load!” said Jim Welles.

  Up and down the wagon train, people called to each other, “Lighten the load—lighten the load!”

  They threw out everything they could do without. They threw out horse-shoes and boxes and tables and chairs.

  At last the animals could pull the wagons up the trail.

  There was a desert to cross. There was no water on the desert. For days the wagons rolled through dust and sand.

  “The sun is so hot,” said Ellen. “I wish I had a drink of water.”

  “So do I,” said Frank.

  “I wish we had more water,” said their father, “but the animals have to drink and we have to drink. Now the water is nearly gone.”

  One day Frank was riding in front with his father. Ellen and her mother and Nugget were in back of the wagon.

  “Look at Spud and Spike,” said Frank. “See how their ears hang down.”

  “The mules are tired,” said his father. “They want water, too.”

  All at once the mules lifted their heads. Their ears stood up. They began to go faster.

  “Do you know what I think?” said Mr. Davis. “I think Spud and Spike smell water.”

  “Can mules smell water?” asked Frank.

  “Yes, and horses can, too. Sometimes they can smell water for miles.”

  They moved along. Ellen went to sleep in the back of the wagon. It was evening when Frank shouted, “Ellen, wake up!”

  In the wagons ahead, people were shouting, “Water—water!”

  Ellen sat up and looked out. There were trees ahead. There was green grass. And there was a river.

  People jumped out of their wagons. They ran to the river. They dipped water up in their hands and drank it.

  “Isn’t it cool! Isn’t it good!” they cried.

  Frank and Ellen lay down by the water and drank. Spud and Spike drank. All the other animals drank.

  They stayed by the river that night. They made big campfires. The fiddler got out his fiddle and played. But the best music of all was the sound of the river.

  For three days they camped there. The women washed clothes and cooked. The men cut trees and made a big raft out of logs. They took the animals and wagons across the river on the raft.

  After that there were more rivers. There were mountains, too.

  One night the wagon train stopped on the side of a mountain. Frank and Ellen sat by their campfire.

  “We’ve been on the road a long time,” said Ellen.

  “Yes,” said Frank. “It was spring when we started. Now it will soon be fall.”

  “Nugget was a kitten when we started,” said Ellen. “Now he is a big cat.”

  A man came out of the trees and sat down.

  “Hello,” he said. “Where are you from?”

  “Missouri,” said Frank.
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  “Do you live on this mountain?” asked Ellen.

  “No,” said the man. “I came here to find gold.”

  “Is there gold here?” asked Frank.

  “There is gold all around us,” said the man. “This is California, and the gold fields are just ahead.”

  Johnny Am a Lingo Lay

  IV

  Father John

  Some of the wagons stayed on the mountain. Some went north, some went south. Mr. and Mrs. Davis and Frank and Ellen went to a town by a river.

  There were only a few houses in the town. The people called it tent city because most of them lived in tents.

  People were there from all over the world. They had come to find gold, and more were coming every day.

  Mr. Davis put up a tent. He cut pieces of wood for chairs and a table. Frank and Ellen brought pine branches and their mother made beds of them.

  “I’m going to take the mules to a stable,” said Mr. Davis.

  “I’m going to the store,” said Mrs. Davis. “Frank, you and Ellen stay here till we get back.”

  Frank and Ellen sat in the door of the tent. People went by. First there was an Indian girl. Then there were two men on a horse. They were singing a funny song.

  An old man came by. He wore a big hat and a blue checked shirt. He had a white beard that came down to his belt.

  “He’s looking at us,” said Ellen.

  “He’s coming over here,” said Frank.

  The old man came up to the tent. He smiled, and his eyes were bright. “Hello,” he said.

  “Hello,” said Frank and Ellen.

  “When did you get here?” asked the old man.

  “Today,” said Frank.

  The man asked what their names were. They told him.

  “What is your name?” asked Ellen.

  The old man laughed. “People call me Father John. That’s as good a name as any.”

  The cat put his head out of the tent.

  “Bless me!” said Father John. “What’s this?”

  “This is our cat,” said Ellen. “This is Nugget.”

  “Nugget?” said Father John. “How are you, Nugget?”