Take a look in my binoculars. They’re focused already. Just point them down that way.”
Benny did as he was told. “Hey! I can see all the way down to the Old Faithful Inn!”
Leading the hikers, Oz called out the names of the different types of trees. He saw small animals way before the children did, and he named every one.
“Did you see that muskrat?” he asked Jessie and Benny when a creature scurried by.
“It just went behind that big lump of snow over there,” Benny said. “Hey! Isn’t a big lump what we’re looking for?”
Off in the distance, everyone could see what Benny was talking about. Some pine trees had toppled over something—a rock or more fallen trees. It was hard to tell.
“Good eyes, Benny,” Jessie said. “And look at the tracks leading over there, too.”
Oz put his fingers to his lips. Everyone stood as still as snow sculptures. At first all they heard was the wind. But the longer they stood, the more they could make out voices in the distance.
“It sounds like a bunch of people talking in there,” Benny whispered.
“Let’s check it out,” Oz said.
Everyone swooshed over the snow. The voices grew louder. A few feet from the mound of fallen trees, Oz and the Aldens not only heard loud voices, they heard words.
“Please show us that bag,” a woman’s voice pleaded.
Another voice interrupted. “My sister and I think that bag might have belonged to our great-great-great-grandfather. You can check if you don’t believe me. The Tale of the Lost Cabin Miners tells all about him. His name was Samuel Jackson Crowe.”
The woman spoke up next. “Sam’s right. We have some old family journals that mention this cabin and a leather pouch the miners left behind. One of those miners was our ancestor.”
There was no doubt about the next voice. “Nonsense!” Mr. Crabtree said. “Anybody could read that book and say they were related to gold miners. In fact, everybody in Yellowstone has probably read that book. What’s to keep me from saying my ancestors were those miners? Anyway, I’m the one who found the leather pouch, not the two of you.”
“It’s time to go in there,” Oz told the Aldens. “Nobody’d even be here if it weren’t for my granddad’s map!”
Oz and the Aldens began to pull away a pile of pine branches covering the hump.
“The cabin!” Benny yelled when he uncovered a doorway.
“Who’s there?” Mr. Crabtree called out. “Is there a tour bus coming through here all of a sudden?”
Even Oz had to laugh. “Of course not, Lester. It’s me and the Aldens—hardly a tour bus.”
The hut was so small that Oz and the Aldens had to stand outside to talk to everyone inside: Ranger Crowe, Sam Jackson, and Lester Crabtree.
Oz smiled at the two young people. “I hope Lester’s not giving you a hard time. I won’t, either. But can you tell us all what’s going on?”
Before anyone else answered, Lester Crabtree interrupted. “What’s going on? I’ll tell you what’s going on. I got here practically in the middle of the night. Then, not long after, these two arrive, and now you six people. It’s too close for comfort in here.”
Mr. Alden spoke up now. “Well, what’s everyone arguing about? After all, the lost cabin isn’t lost anymore.”
Everyone stepped out of the cabin to settle matters.
Lester Crabtree was holding on to a leather pouch, about the size of a school-bag. Suddenly Sam made a grab for it, and five or six yellowish rocks rolled onto the snow.
Mr. Crabtree bent down. “These aren’t gold!” he said in a disgusted voice. “They’re just a bunch of plain old Yellowstone rocks.”
Oz Elkhorn couldn’t help smiling. “That’s why Yellowstone is called ‘Yellowstone,’ Lester. I hope none of you folks was counting on getting rich from what was in this bag. Looks as if those lost miners didn’t leave much behind but this old hut.”
Sam Jackson picked up the leather pouch. He looked inside. “Hey, there are some
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