I followed him to the hotel somewhat gloomily; for I was now the only member of our party who had not made good the agreed amount of the partnership. It is significant that never for a moment did either Johnny or myself doubt that Talbot would have the required sum. Johnny, his spirits quite recovered, whistled like a lark.
We arrived just in time for the first supper call, and found Talbot and Yank awaiting us. Yank was as cool and taciturn, and nodded to us as indifferently, as ever. Talbot, however, was full of excitement. His biscuit-brown complexion had darkened and flushed until he was almost Spanish-black, and the little devils in his eyes led a merry dance between the surface and unguessed depths. He was also exceedingly voluble; and, as usual when in that mood, aggravatingly indirect. He joked and teased and carried on like a small boy; and insisted on ordering an elaborate dinner and a bottle of champagne, in the face of even Johnny’s scandalized expostulations. When Johnny protested against expenditure, it was time to look out!
“This is on me! This is my party! Dry up, Johnny!” cried Talbot. “Fill your glasses. Drink to the new enterprise; the Undertakers’ Mining Company, Unlimited.”
“Undertakers?” I echoed.
116“Well, you all look it. Call it the Gophers, then. Capital stock just eight hundred and eighty dollars, fully subscribed. I suppose it is fully subscribed, gentlemen?” He scrutinized us closely. “Ah, Frank! I see we’ll have to take your promissory note. But the artistic certificates are not yet home from the engravers. Take your time. Maybe a relative will die.”
“Talbot,” said I disgustedly, “if I hadn’t happened to smell your breath before supper I’d think you drunk.”
“Iamdrunk, old deacon,” rejoined Talbot, “but with the Wine of Enchantment–do you know your Persian? No? Well, then, this:
“Drink to me only with thine eyes,And I’ll not ask for wine!”
“Drink to me only with thine eyes,And I’ll not ask for wine!”
“A woman!” grumbled the literal Yank.
“The best, the most capricious, the most beautiful woman in the world,” cried Talbot, “whose smile intoxicates, whose frown drives to despair.”
“Whatareyou drivelling about?” I demanded.
“The goddess fortune–what else? But come,” and Talbot rose with a sudden and startling transition to the calm and businesslike. “We can smoke outside; and we must hear each other’s reports.”
He paid for the dinner, steadfastly refusing to let us bear our share. I noticed that he had acquired one of the usual buckskin sacks, and shook the yellow dust from the mouth of it to the pan of the gold scales with quite an accustomed air.
117We lit our pipes and sat down at one end of the veranda, where we would not be interrupted.
“Fire ahead, Yank,” advised Talbot.
“There’s two ways of going to the mines,” said Yank: “One is to go overland by horses to Sutter’s Fort or the new town of Sacramento, and then up from there into the foothills of the big mountains way yonder. The other is to take a boat and go up river to Sacramento and then pack across with horses.”
“How much is the river fare?” asked Talbot.
“You have to get a sailboat. It costs about forty dollars apiece.”
“How long would it take?”
“Four or five days.”
“And how long from here to Sutter’s Fort by horse?”
“About the same.”
“Depends then on whether horses are cheaper here or there.”
“They are cheaper there; or we can get our stuff freighted in by Greasers and hoof it ourselves.”
“Then I should think we ought to have a boat.”
“I got one,” said Yank.
“Good for you!” cried Talbot. “You’re a man after my own heart! Well, Johnny?”
Johnny told his tale, a little proudly and produced his required two hundred and twenty dollars.
“You had luck,” said Talbot non-committally, “and you ran a strong risk of coming back here without a cent, didn’t you? I want to ask you one question, Johnny. If you had118lost, would you have been willing to have taken the consequences?”
“What do you mean?” asked Johnny blankly.
“Would you have been willing to have dropped out of this partnership?”
Johnny stared.
“I mean,” said Talbot kindly, “that you had no right to try to get this money by merely a gambler’s chance unless you were willing to accept the logical result if you failed. It isn’t fair to the rest of us.”
“I see what you mean,” said Johnny slowly. “No; I hadn’t thought of it that way.”
“Well, as I said, you had luck,” repeated Talbot cheerfully, “so we needn’t think of it further.” It was characteristic that Johnny took this veiled rebuke from Talbot Ward in a meek and chastened spirit; from any one else his high temper could never stand even a breath of criticism. “How about you, Frank?” Talbot asked me.
I detailed my experiences in a very few words and exhibited my gold slug.
“That’s the best I can do,” I ended, “and half of that does not belong to me. I can, however, in a few days scrape up the full amount; there is plenty to do here. And barring bull luck, like Johnny’s, I don’t see much show of beating that, unless a man settled down to stay here.”
Talbot stared at me, ruminatively, until I began to get restive. Then he withdrew his eyes. He made no comment.
“I suppose you have your money,” suggested Yank to him, after a pause.
119“Oh–yes,” said Talbot as though awaking from profound reverie.
“Well, tell us about it. How did you get it? How long did it take you?”
“About half an hour. I figured that everybody in a place like this would be wanting news. So I sorted out that bundle of old newspapers you fellows were always laughing at, and I went out and sold them. Lucky I got busy with them early; for I don’t doubt the arrival of theOregonbroke the market.”
“How much did you get for them?” asked Johnny.
“A dollar apiece for most, and fifty cents for the rest. I came out two hundred and seventy dollars ahead all told. That, with Frank’s and my ten dollars, gave me sixty dollars above the necessary amount.”
Johnny arose and kicked himself solemnly.
“For not guessing what newspapers were good for,” he explained. “Go on! What next? What did you do with the rest of the day?”
Talbot leaned forward, and all the animation of the dinner table returned to his manner and to his face.
“Boys,” said he earnestly, “this is the most wonderful town that has ever been! There has been nothing like it in the past; and there will never be anything like it again. After I had sold out my papers I went wandering across the Plaza with my hands in my pockets. Next the El Dorado there is a hole in the ground. It isn’t much of a hole, and the edges are all caving in because it is sandy. While I was looking at it two men came along. One was the owner of the hole, and the other said he was a lawyer. The owner120offered to rent the hole to the lawyer for two hundred and fifty dollars a month; and the lawyer was inclined to take him up. After they had gone on I paced off the hole, just for fun. It was twelve feet square by about six feet deep! Then I walked on down toward the water front, and talked with all the storekeepers. They do a queer business. All these goods we see around came out here on consignment. The local storekeepers have a greater or lesser share and sell mainly on commission. Since they haven’t any adequate storehouses, and can’t get any put up again, they sell the stuff mainly at auction and get rid of it as quickly as possible. That’s why some things are so cheap they can make pavements of them when a ship happens to come in loaded with one article. I talked with some of them and told them they ought to warehouse a lot of this stuff so as to keep it over until the market steadied. They agreed with that; but pointed out that they were putting up warehouses as fast as they could–which wasn’t very fast–and in the meantime the rains and dust were destroying their goods. It was cheaper to sell at auction.”
“And a heap more exciting,” put in Johnny. “I went to one of them.”
“Well, I wandered down to the shore, and looked out over the bay. It was full of shipping, riding high at anchor. I had an idea. I hired a boat for five dollars, and rowed out to some of the ships. Believe me or not, most of them were empty; not even a watchman aboard! I found some of the captains, however, and talked with each of them. They all told the same story.”
“Crews skipped to the mines, I suppose?” said Yank.
121“Exactly. And theycouldn’tget any more. So I offered to hire a few of them.”
“The captains?” I inquired.
“No; the ships.”
“Thewhat?” we yelled in chorus.
“The ships.”
“But if the captains can’t get crews─”
“Oh, I don’t want to sail them,” went on Talbot impatiently. “It was hard work getting them to agree; they all cherished notions they could get crews and go sailing some more–good old salts! But I hired four, at last. Had to take them for only a month, however; and had to pay them in advance five hundred apiece.”
“I beg pardon,” said Johnny softly, “for interrupting your pleasing tale; but the last item interested me. I do not know whether I quite heard it right.”
“Oh, shut up, Johnny,” said Yank; “let the man tell his story. Of course he didn’t have the money in his pocket. How did you get it, Tal?”
Ward shot him a grateful glance.
“I told them I’d pay them at four o’clock which gave me plenty of time.”
“Two thousand dollars–oh, of course!” murmured Johnny.
“So then,” continued Talbot, “I hustled ashore; and went to see some of my merchant friends. In two hours I had contracts with twelve of them that totalled six thousand dollars.”
“Why didn’t some of them go out and hire ships on their own account?” asked Yank shrewdly.
122“Because I didn’t mention the word ‘ship’ until I had their business,” said Talbot. “I just guaranteed them storage, waterproof, practically fireproof, dustproof, and within twenty-four hours. I guess most of them thought I was crazy. But as it didn’t cost them anything, they were willing to take a chance.”
“Then you didn’t raise your ten thousand dollars from them in advance payments!” I marvelled.
“Certainly not. That would have scared off the whole lot of them. But I got their agreements; I told you it took me two hours. Then I walked up the street figuring where I’d get the money. Of course I saw I’d have to divide the profits. I didn’t know anybody; but after a while I decided that the best chance was to get some advice from honest and disinterested man. So I asked the first man I met who ran the biggest gambling place in town. He told me Jim Recket.”
“Jim Recket?” I echoed. “He’s the man I was to leave change for my gold slug with.”
“Recket keeps the El Dorado, next door in the tent. He impressed me as a very quiet, direct, square sort of a fellow. The best type of professional gambler, in matters of this sort, generally is.
“‘I am looking for a man,’ said I, ‘who has a little idle money, some time, no gold-mining fever, plenty of nerve, and a broad mind. Can you tell me who he is?’
“He thought a minute and then answered direct, as I knew he would.
“‘Sam Brannan,’ he said.
“‘Tell me about him.’
123“‘To take up your points,’ said Recket, checking off his fingers, ‘he came out with a shipload of Mormons as their head, and he collected tithes from them for over a year; that’s your idle money. He has all the time the Lord stuck into one day at a clip; that’s your “some time.” He has been here in the city since ’48 which would seem to show he doesn’t care much for mining. He collected the tithes from those Mormons, and sent word to Brigham Young that if he wanted the money to come and get it. That’s for your nerve. As for being broad minded–well, when a delegation of the Mormons, all ready for a scrap, came to him solemnly to say that they were going to refuse to pay him the tithes any more, even if he was the California head of the church, he laughed them off the place for having been so green as to pay them as long as they had.’
“I found Sam Brannan, finally, at the bar in Dennison’s Exchange.”
“What was he like?” asked Johnny eagerly. “I’ll bet I heard his name fifty times to-day.”
“He is a thickset, jolly looking, curly headed fellow, with a thick neck, a bulldog jaw, and a big voice,” replied Talbot. “Of course he tried to bully me, but when that didn’t work, he came down to business. We entered into an agreement.
“Brannan was to furnish the money, and take half the profits, provided he liked the idea. When we had settled it all, I told him my scheme. He thought it over a while and came in. Then we rowed off and paid the captains of the ships. It was necessary now to get them warped in124at high tide, of course, but Sam Brannan said he’d see to that–he has some sort of a pull with the natives, enough to get a day’s labour, anyway.”
“Warp them in?” I echoed.
“Certainly. You couldn’t expect the merchants to lighter their stuff off in boats always. We’ll beach these ships at high tide, and then run some sort of light causeway out to them. There’s no surf, and the bottom is soft. It’ll cost us something, of course; but Sam and I figure we ought to divide three thousand clear.”
“I’d like to ask a question or so,” said I. “What’s to prevent the merchants doing this same hiring of ships for themselves?”
“Nothing,” said Talbot, “after the first month.”
“And what prevented Brannan, after he had heard your scheme, from going out on his own hook, and pocketingallthe proceeds?”
“You don’t understand, Frank,” said Talbot impatiently. “Men of our stamp don’t do those things.”
“Oh!” said I.
“This,” said Johnny, “made it about two o’clock, as I figure your story. Did you then take a needed rest?”
“Quarter of two,” corrected Talbot, “I was going back to the hotel, when I passed that brick building–you know, on Montgomery Street. I remembered then that lawyer and his two hundred and fifty dollars for a hole in the ground. It seemed to me there was a terrible waste somewhere. Here was a big brick building filled up with nothing but goods. It might much better be filled with people. There is plenty of room for goods in those ships;125but you can’t very well put people on the ships. So I just dropped in to see them about it. I offered to hire the entire upper part of the building; and pointed out that the lower part was all they could possibly use as a store. They said they needed the upper part as storehouse. I offered to store the goods in an accessible safe place. Of course they wanted to see the place; but I wouldn’t let on, naturally, but left it subject to their approval after the lease was signed. The joke of it is they were way overstocked anyway. Finally I made my grand offer.
“‘Look here,’ said I, ‘you rent me that upper story for a decent length of time–say a year–and I’ll buy out the surplus stock you’ve got up there at a decent valuation.’ They jumped at that; of course they pretended not to, but just the same they jumped. I’ll either sell the stuff by auction, even if at a slight loss, or else I’ll stick it aboard a ship. Depends a good deal on what is there, of course. It’s mostly bale and box goods of some sort or another. I’ve got an inventory in my pocket. Haven’t looked at it yet. Then I’ll partition off that wareroom and rent it out for offices and so forth. There are a lot of lawyers and things in this town just honing for something dignified and stable. I only pay three thousand a month for it.”
Johnny groaned deeply.
“Well,” persisted Talbot, “I figure on getting at least eight thousand a month out of it. That’ll take care of a little loss on the goods, if necessary. I’m not sure a loss is necessary.”
126“And how much, about, are the goods?” I inquired softly.
“Oh, I don’t know. Somewhere between ten and twenty thousand, I suppose.”
“Paid for how, and when?”
“One third cash, and the rest in notes. The interest out here is rather high,” said Talbot regretfully.
“Where do you expect to get the money?” I insisted.
“Oh, money! money!” cried Talbot, throwing out his arms with a gesture of impatience. “The place is full of money. It’s pouring in from the mines, from the world outside. Money’s no trouble!”
He fell into an intent reverie, biting at his short moustache. I arose softly to my feet.
“Johnny,” said I, in a strangled little voice, “I’ve got to give back McGlynn’s change. Want to go with me?”
We tiptoed around the corner of the building, and fell into each other’s arms with shrieks of joy.
“Oh!” cried Johnny at last, wiping the tears from his eyes. “Money’s no trouble!”
After we had to some extent relieved our feelings we changed my gold slug into dust–I purchased a buckskin bag–and went to find McGlynn. Our way to his quarters led past the post-office, where a long queue of men still waited patiently and quietly in line. We stood for a few moments watching the demeanour of those who had received their mail, or who had been told there was nothing for them. Some of the latter were pathetic, and looked fairly dazed with grief and disappointment.
127The letters were passed through a small window let in the adobe of the wall; and the men filed on to the veranda at one end and off it at the other. The man distributing mail was a small, pompous, fat Englishman. I recognized McGlynn coming slowly down with the line, and paid him half the dust in my bag.
As McGlynn reached the window, the glass in it slammed shut, and the clerk thrust a card against it.
“Mails close at 9 P.M.”
McGlynn tapped at the glass, received no attention, and commenced to beat a tattoo. The window was snatched open, and the fat clerk, very red, thrust his face in the opening.
“What do you want?” he demanded truculently.
“Any letters for John A. McGlynn?”
“This office opens at 8:30 A.M.” said the clerk, slamming shut the window.
Without an instant’s hesitation, and before the man had a chance to retire, McGlynn’s huge fist crashed through the glass and into his face.
The crowd had waited patiently; but now, with a brutal snarl, it surged forward. McGlynn, a pleasant smile on his face, swung slowly about.
“Keep your line, boys! Keep your line!” he boomed. “There’s no trouble! It’s only a little Englishman who don’t know our ways yet.”
Inside the building the postal force, white and scared yet over the menacing growl of the beast they had so nearly roused, hastened to resume their tasks. I heard later that the last man in line reached the window only at three128o’clock in the morning. Also that next day McGlynn was summoned by Geary, then postmaster, to account for his share in the row; and that in the end Geary apologized and was graciously forgiven by McGlynn! I can well believe it.
We found Yank and Talbot still at the edge of the hotel veranda.
“Look here, Tal!” said Johnny at once. “How are you going to finish all this business you’ve scared up, and get off to the mines within a reasonable time? We ought to start pretty soon.”
“Mines?” echoed Talbot, “I’m not going to the mines! I wouldn’t leave all this for a million mines. No: Yank and I have been talking it over. You boys will have to attend to the mining end of this business. I’ll pay Frank’s share and take a quarter of the profits, and Frank can pay me in addition half his profits. In return for the work I don’t do, I’ll put aside two hundred and twenty dollars and use it in my business here, and all of us will share in the profits I make from that amount. How does that strike you?”
“I don’t like to lose you out of this,” said Johnny disappointedly.
“Nor I,” said I.
“And I hate to lose the adventure, boys,” agreed Talbot earnestly. “But, honestly, I can’t leave this place now even if I want to; and I certainly don’t want to.”
I turned in that night with the feeling that I had passed a very interesting day.
Two days later Yank, Johnny, and I embarked aboard a small bluff-bowed sailboat, waved our farewells to Talbot standing on the shore, and laid our course to cross the blue bay behind an island called Alcatraz. Our boatman was a short, swarthy man, with curly hair and gold rings in his ears. He handled his boat well, but spoke not at all. After a dozen attempts to get something more than monosyllables out of him, we gave it up, and settled ourselves to the solid enjoyment of a new adventure.
The breeze was strong, and drove even our rather clumsy craft at considerable speed. The blue waters of the bay flashed in the sun and riffled under the squalls. Spray dashed away from our bows. A chill raced in from the open Pacific, diluting the sunlight.
We stared ahead of us, all eyes. The bay was a veritable inland sea; and the shores ahead of us lay flat and wide, with blue hazy hills in the distance, and a great mountain hovering in midair to our right. Black cormorants going upwind flapped heavily by us just above the water, their necks stretched out. Gulls wheeled and screamed above us, or floated high and light like corks over the racing waves. Rafts of ducks lay bobbing, their necks furled, their head close to their bodies. A salt130tang stirred our blood; and on the great mountain just north of the harbour entrance the shadows of cañons were beginning most beautifully to define themselves.
Altogether it was a pleasant sail. We perched to windward, and smoked our pipes, and worked ourselves to a high pitch of enthusiasm over what we were going to see and do. The sailor too smoked his pipe, leaning against the long, heavy tiller.
The distant flat shores drew nearer. We turned a corner and could make out the mouth of a river, and across it a white line that, as we came up on it, proved to be the current breaking against the wind over a very solid bar. For the first time our sailor gave signs of life. He stood on his feet, squinted ahead, ordered us amidships, dropped the peak of the mainsail, took the sheet in his hand. We flew down against the breakers. In a moment we were in them. Two sickening bumps shook our very vertebræ. The mast swayed drunkenly from side to side as the boat rolled on her keel, the sail flopped, a following wave slopped heavily over the stern, and the water swashed forward across our feet. Then we recovered a trifle, staggered forward, bumped twice more, and slid into the smoother deep water. The sailor grunted, and passed us a dipper. We bailed her out while he raised again the peak of his sail.
Shortly after this experience we glided up the reaches of a wide beautiful river. It had no banks, but was bordered by the tall reeds called tules. As far as the eye could reach, and that was very far when we climbed part way up the mast to look, these tules extended. League after131league they ran away like illimitable plains, green and brown and beautiful, until somewhere over the curve of the earth straight ahead they must have met distant blue hills. To the southeast there seemed no end but the sky.
From the level of the boat, however, we saw only a little way into the outer fringe. The water lay among the stalks, and mud hens with white bills pushed their way busily into intricate narrow unguessed waterways. Occasionally the hedge of the tules broke to a greater or lesser opening into a lagoon. These were like shallow lakes, in which sometimes grew clumps of grasses. They were covered with waterfowl. Never have I seen so many ducks and geese of all kinds. They literally covered the surface of the water, and fairly seemed to jostle each other as they swam busily to and fro, intent on some business of their own. Their comfortable, low conversational clucking and quacking was a pleasure to hear. When, out of curiosity, we fired a revolver shot, they rose in the air with a roar like that of a great waterfall, and their crossing lines of flight in the sky was like the multitude of midges in the sun. I remember one flock of snow-white geese that turned and wheeled, alternately throwing their bodies in shadow or in the sunlight, so that they flashed brilliantly.
As the sun declined, the wind fell. Fortunately the current in the river was hardly perceptible. We slipped along on glassy waters. Thousands upon thousands of blackbirds dipped across us uttering their calls. Against a saffron sky were long lines of waterfowl, their necks outstretched. A busy multitudinous noise of marsh birds132rose and fell all about us. The sun was a huge red ball touching the distant hills.
At last the wind failed us entirely, but the sailor got out a pair of sweeps, and we took turns rowing. Within a half hour we caught the silhouette of three trees against the sky, and shortly landed on a little island of solid ground. Here we made camp for the night.
All next day, and the days after, being luckily favoured by steady fair winds, we glided up the river. I could not but wonder at the certainty with which our sailor picked the right passage from the numerous false channels that offered themselves. The water was beautifully clear and sweet; quite different from the muddy currents of to-day. Shortly the solid ground had drawn nearer; so that often we passed long stretches of earth standing above the tule-grown water. Along these strips grew sycamore and cottonwood trees of great size, and hanging vines of the wild grape. The trees were as yet bare of leaves, but everything else was green and beautiful. We could see the tracks of many deer along the flats, but caught no sight of the animals themselves. At one place, however, we did frighten a small band of half a dozen elk. They crashed away recklessly through the brush, making noise and splashing enough for a hundred. Yank threw one of his little pea bullets after them; and certainly hit, for we found drops of blood. The sailor shook his head disparagingly over the size of the rifle balls, to Yank’s vast disgust. I never saw him come nearer to losing his temper. As a matter of fact I think the sailor’s contention had something in it; the long accurate weapon with its tiny missile133was probably all right when its user had a chance to plant the bullet exactly in a fatal spot, but not for such quick snap shooting as this. At any rate our visions of cheap fresh meat vanished on the hoof.
The last day out we came into a wide bottomland country with oaks. The distant blue hills had grown, and had become slate-gray. At noon we discerned ahead of us a low bluff, and a fork in the river; and among the oak trees the gleam of tents, and before them a tracery of masts where the boats and small ships lay moored to the trees. This was theembarcaderoof Sutter’s Fort beyond; or the new city of Sacramento, whichever you pleased. Here our boat journey ended.
We disembarked into a welter of confusion. Dust, men, mules, oxen, bales, boxes, barrels, and more dust. Everything was in the open air. Tents were pitched in the open, under the great oaks, anywhere and everywhere. Next, the river, and for perhaps a hundred yards from the banks, the canvas structures were arranged in rows along what were evidently intended to be streets; but beyond that every one simply “squatted” where he pleased. We tramped about until we found a clear space, and there dumped down our effects. They were simple enough; and our housekeeping consisted in spreading our blankets and canvas, and unpacking our frying pan and pots. The entire list of our provisions consisted of pork, flour, salt, tea, coffee, sugar, tobacco, and some spirits.
After supper we went out in a body to see what we could find out concerning our way to the mines. We did not even possess a definite idea as to where we wanted to go!
134In this quest we ran across our first definite discouragement. The place was full of men and they were all willing to talk. Fully three quarters were, like ourselves, headed toward the mines; and were consequently full of theoretical advice. The less they actually knew the more insistent they were that theirs was the only one sure route or locality or method. Of the remainder probably half were the permanent population of the place, and busily occupied in making what money they could. They were storekeepers, gamblers, wagon owners, saloonkeepers, transportation men. Of course we could quickly have had from most of these men very definite and practical advice as to where to go and how to get there; but the advice would most likely have been strongly tempered with self-interest. The rest of those we encountered were on their way back from the mines. And from them we got our first dash of cold water in the face.
According to them the whole gold-fable was vastly exaggerated. To be sure there was gold, no one could deny that, but it occurred very rarely, and in terrible places to get at. One had to put in ten dollars’ worth of work, to get out one dollars’ worth of dust. And provisions were so high that the cost of living ate up all the profits. Besides, we were much too late. All the good claims had been taken up and worked out by the earliest comers. There was much sickness in the mines, and men were dying like flies. A man was a fool ever to leave home but a double-dyed fool not to return there as soon as possible. Thus the army of the discouraged. There were so many of them, and they talked so convincingly, that I, for one,135felt my golden dream dissipating; and a glance at Johnny’s face showed that he was much in the same frame of mind. We were very young; and we had so long been keyed up so high that a reaction was almost inevitable. Yank showed no sign; but chewed his tobacco imperturbably.
We continued our inquiries, however, and had soon acquired a mass of varied information. The nearest mines were about sixty miles away; we could get our freight transported that far by the native Californiancargadoresat fifty dollars the hundredweight. Or we could walk and carry our own goods. Or we might buy a horse or so to pack in our belongings. If we wanted to talk to thecargadoreswe must visit their camp over toward the south; if we wanted to buy horses we could do nothing better than to talk to McClellan, at Sutter’s Fort. Fifty dollars a hundred seemed pretty steep for freighting; we would not be able to carry all we owned on our backs; we decided to try to buy the horses.
Accordingly next morning, after a delicious sleep under the open sky, we set out to cover the three or four miles to Sutter’s Fort.
This was my first sight of the California country landscape, and I saw it at the most beautiful time of year. The low-rolling hills were bright green, against which blended the darker green of the parklike oaks. Over the slopes were washes of colour where the wild flowers grew, like bright scarves laid out in the sun. They were of deep orange, or an equally deep blue, or, perhaps, of mingled white and purple. Each variety, and there were many of them, seemed to grow by itself so that the colours were136massed. Johnny muttered something about “the trailing glory–banners of the hills”; but whether that was a quotation or just Johnny I do not know.
The air was very warm and grateful, and the sky extraordinarily blue. Broad-pinioned birds wheeled slowly, very high; and all about us, on the tips of swaying bushes and in the tops of trees, thousands of golden larks were singing. They were in appearance like our meadow-larks back east, but their note was quite different; more joyous and lilting, but with the same liquid quality. We flushed many sparrows of different sorts; and we saw the plumed quail, the gallant, trim, little, well-groomed gentlemen, running rapidly ahead of us. And over it all showered the clear warmth of the sun, like some subtle golden ether that dissolved and disengaged from the sleeping hills multitudinous hummings of insects, songs of birds, odours of earth, perfumes of flowers.
In spite of ourselves our spirits rose. We forgot our anxious figurings on ways and means, our too concentrated hopes of success, our feverish, intent, single-minded desire for gold. Three abreast we marched forward through the waving, shimmering wild oats, humming once more the strains of the silly little song to which the gold seekers had elected to stride:
“I soon shall be in mining camps,And then I’ll look around,And when I see the gold-dust there,I’ll pick it off the ground.“I’ll scrape the mountains clean, old girl,I’ll drain the rivers dry;I’m off for California.Susannah, don’t you cry!”
“I soon shall be in mining camps,And then I’ll look around,And when I see the gold-dust there,I’ll pick it off the ground.“I’ll scrape the mountains clean, old girl,I’ll drain the rivers dry;I’m off for California.Susannah, don’t you cry!”
137Even old Yank joined in the chorus, and he had about as much voice as a rusty windmill, and about the same idea of tune as a hog has of war.
“Oh, Susannah! don’t you cry for me!I’m off to California with my washbowl on my knee!”
“Oh, Susannah! don’t you cry for me!I’m off to California with my washbowl on my knee!”
We topped a rise and advanced on Sutter’s Fort as though we intended by force and arms to take that historic post.
PART III
THE MINES
Sutter’s Fort was situated at the edge of the live-oak park. We found it to resemble a real fort, with high walls, bastions, and a single gate at each end through which one entered to a large enclosed square, perhaps a hundred and fifty yards long by fifty wide. The walls were not pierced for guns; and the defence seemed to depend entirely on the jutting bastions. The walls were double, and about twenty-five feet apart. Thus by roofing over this space, and dividing it with partitions, Sutter had made up his barracks, blacksmith shop, bakery, and the like. Later in our investigations we even ran across a woollen factory, a distillery, a billiard room, and a bowling alley! At the southern end of this long space stood a two-story house. Directly opposite the two-story house and at the other end of the enclosure was an adobe corral.
The place was crowded with people. A hundred or so miners rushed here and there on apparently very important business, or loafed contentedly against the posts or the sun-warmth of adobe walls. In this latter occupation they were aided and abetted by a number of the native Californians. Perhaps a hundred Indians were leading horses, carrying burdens or engaged in some other heavy toil. They were the first we had seen, and we examined142them with considerable curiosity. A good many of them were nearly naked; but some had on portions of battered civilized apparel. Very few could make up a full suit of clothes; but contented themselves with either a coat, or a shirt, or a pair of pantaloons, or even with only a hat, as the case might be. They were very swarthy, squat, villainous-looking savages, with big heads, low foreheads, coarse hair, and beady little eyes.
We stopped for some time near the sentry box at the entrance, accustoming ourselves to the whirl and movement. Then we set out to find McClellan. He was almost immediately pointed out to us, a short, square, businesslike man, with a hard gray face, dealing competently with the pressure. A score of men surrounded him, each eager for his attention. While we hovered, awaiting our chance, two men walked in through the gate. They were accorded the compliment of almost a complete silence on the part of those who caught sight of them.
The first was a Californian about thirty-five or forty years of age, a man of a lofty, stern bearing, swarthy skin, glossy side whiskers, and bright supercilious eyes. He wore a light blue short jacket trimmed with scarlet and with silver buttons, a striped silk sash, breeches of crimson velvet met below by long embroidered deerskin boots. A black kerchief was bound crosswise on his head entirely concealing the hair; and a flat-crowned, wide, gray hat heavily ornamented with silver completed this gorgeous costume. He moved with the assured air of the aristocrat. The splendour of his apparel, the beauty of his face and figure, and the grace of his movements attracted the first143glance from all eyes. Then immediately he was passed over in favour of his companion.
The latter was a shorter, heavier man, of more mature years. In fact his side whiskers were beginning to turn gray. His costume was plain, but exquisitely neat, and a strange blend of the civil and the military. The jacket for example, had been cut in the trim military fashion, but was worn open to exhibit the snowy cascade of the linen beneath. But nobody paid much attention to the man’s dress. The dignity and assured calm of his face and eye at once impressed one with conviction of unusual quality.
Johnny stared for a moment, his brows knit. Then with an exclamation, he sprang forward.
“Captain Sutter!” he cried.
Sutter turned slowly, to look Johnny squarely in the face, his attitude one of cold but courteous inquiry. Johnny was approaching, hat in hand. I confess he astonished me. We had known him intimately for some months, and always as the harum-scarum, impulsive, hail fellow, bubbling, irresponsible. Now a new Johnny stepped forward, quiet, high-bred, courteous, self-contained. Before he had spoken a word, Captain Sutter’s aloof expression had relaxed.
“I beg your pardon for addressing you so abruptly,” Johnny was saying. “The surprise of the moment must excuse me. Ten years ago, sir, I had the pleasure of meeting you at the time you visited my father in Virginia.”
“My dear boy!” cried Sutter. “You are, of course the144son of Colonel Fairfax. But ten years ago–you were a very young man!”
“A small boy, rather,” laughed Johnny.
They chatted for a few moments, exchanging news, I suppose, though they had drawn beyond our ear-shot. In a few moments we were summoned, and presented; first to Captain Sutter, then to Don Gaspar Martinez. The latter talked English well. Yank and I, both somewhat silent and embarrassed before all this splendour of manner, trailed the triumphal progress like two small boys. We were glad to trail, however. Captain Sutter took us about, showing us in turn all the many industries of the place.
“The old peaceful life is gone,” said he. “The fort has become a trading post for miners. It is difficult now to get labour for my crops, and I have nearly abandoned cultivation. My Indians I have sent out to mine for me.”
He showed us a row of long troughs outside the walls to which his Indian workmen had come twice a day for their rations of wheat porridge. “They scooped it out with their hands,” he told us, “like animals.” Also he pointed out the council circle beneath the trees where he used to meet the Indians. He had great influence with the surrounding tribes; and had always managed to live peacefully with them.
“But that is passing,” said he. “The American miners, quite naturally, treat them as men; and they are really children. It makes misunderstanding, and bloodshed, and reprisals. The era of good feeling is about over. They still trust me, however, and will work for me.”
145Don Gaspar here excused himself on the ground of business, promising to rejoin us later.
“That trouble will come upon us next,” said Captain Sutter, nodding after the Spaniard’s retreating form. “It is already beginning. The Californians hold vast quantities of land with which they do almost nothing. A numerous and energetic race is coming; and it will require room. There is conflict there. And their titles are mixed; very mixed. It will behoove a man to hold a very clear title when the time comes.”
“Your own titles are doubtless clear and strong,” suggested Johnny.
“None better. My grant here came directly from the Mexican government itself.” The Captain paused to chuckle, “I suspect that the reason it was given me so freely was political–there existed at that time a desire to break up the power of the Missions; and the establishment of rival colonies on a large scale would help to do that. The government evidently thought me competent to undertake the opening of this new country.”
“Your grant is a large one?” surmised Johnny.
“Sixty miles by about twelve,” said Captain Sutter.
We had by now finished our inspection, and stood by the southern gate.
“I am sorry,” said Captain Sutter, “that I am not in a position to offer you hospitality. My own residence is at a farm on the Feather River. This fort, as no doubt you are aware, I have sold to the traders. In the changed conditions it is no longer necessary to me.”
“Do you not regret the changed conditions?” asked146Johnny after a moment. “I can imagine the interest in building a new community–all these industries, the training of the Indians to work, the growing of crops, the raising of cattle.”
“One may regret changed conditions; but one cannot prevent their changing,” said Captain Sutter in his even, placid manner. “The old condition was a very pleasant dream; this is a reality.”
We walked back through the enclosure. Our companion was greeted on all sides with the greatest respect and affection. To all he responded with benign but unapproachable dignity. From the vociferating group he called the trader, McClellan, to whom he introduced us, all three, with urbane formality.
“These young men,” he told McClellan, who listened to him intently, his brows knit, “are more than acquaintances, they are very especial old friends of mine. I wish to bespeak your good offices for what they may require. They are on their way to the mines. And now, gentlemen, I repeat, I am delighted to have had this opportunity; I wish you the best of luck; and I sincerely hope you may be able to visit me at Feather River, where you are always sure of a hearty welcome. Treat them well, McClellan.”
“You know, Cap’n, friends of your’n are friends of mine,” said McClellan briefly.
At the end of half an hour we found ourselves in possession of two pack-horses and saddles, and a load of provisions.
“Look out for hoss thieves,” advised McClellan. “These147yere Greasers will follow you for days waitin’ for a chance to git your stock. Don’t picket with rawhide rope or the coyotes are likely to knaw yore animiles loose. Better buy a couple of ha’r ropes from the nearest Mex. Take care of yoreselves. Good-bye.” He was immediately immersed in his flood of business.
We were in no hurry to return, so we put in an hour or so talking with the idlers. From them we heard much praise for Sutter. He had sent out such and such expeditions to rescue snow-bound immigrants in the mountains; he had received hospitably the travel-worn transcontinentals; he had given freely to the indigent; and so on without end. I am very glad that even at second hand I had the chance to know this great-hearted old soldier of Charles X while in the glory of his possessions and the esteem of men. Acre by acre his lands were filched from him; and he died in Washington vainly petitioning Congress for restitution.
We loaded our pack-horses, and set off next morning early on the trail up the American River. At last, it seemed to us, we were really under way; as though our long journeyings and many experiences had been but a preparation for this start. Our spirits were high, and we laughed and joked and sang extravagantly. Even Yank woke up and acted like a frisky colt. Such early wayfarers as we met, we hailed with shouts and chaffing; nor were we in the least abashed by an occasional surly response, or the not infrequent attempts to discourage our hopes. For when one man said there was no gold, another was as confident that the diggings were not even scratched.
The morning was a very fine one; a little chilly, with a thin white mist hanging low along the ground. This the sun soon dissipated. The birds sang everywhere. We trudged along the dusty road merrily.
Every little while we stopped to readjust the burdens to our animals. A mountaineer had showed us how to lash them on, but our skill at that sort of thing wasminer’s, and the packs would not hold. We had to do them one at a time, using the packed animal as a pattern from which to copy the hitch on the other. In this painful manner149we learned the Squaw Hitch, which, for a long time, was to be the extent of our knowledge. However, we got on well enough, and mounted steadily by the turns and twists of an awful road, following the general course of the river below us.
On the hills grew high brush, some of it very beautiful. The buckthorn, for example, was just coming out; and the dogwood, and the mountain laurel. At first these clumps of bush were few and scattered; and the surface of the hills, carpeted with short grass, rolled gently away, or broke in stone dikes and outcrops. Then later, as we mounted, they drew together until they covered the mountainsides completely, save where oaks and madrone kept clear some space for themselves. After a time we began to see a scrubby long-needled pine thrusting its head here and there above the undergrowth. That was as far as we got that day. In the hollow of a ravine we found a tiny rill of water, and there we camped. Johnny offered some slight objections at first. It was only two o’clock of the afternoon, the trees were scrubby, the soil dusty, the place generally uncomfortable. But Yank shook his head.
“If we knew how they played this game, it might be all right to go ahead. But we don’t,” said he. “I’ve been noticing this trail pretty close; and I ain’t seen much water except in the river; and that’s an awful ways down. Maybe we’ll find some water over the next hill, and maybe we won’t. But weknowthere’s water here. Then there’s the question of hoss thieves. McClellan strikes me as a man to be believed. I don’t know how they act; but you bet no hoss thief gets off with my hoss and me watchin’.150But at night it’s different, I don’t know how they do things. But Idoknow that if we tie our hosses next us, they won’t be stolen. And that’s what I aim to do. But if we do that, we got to give them a chance to eat, hain’t we? So we’ll let them feed the rest of the afternoon, and we’ll tie em up to-night.”
This was much talk for Yank. In fact, the only time that taciturn individual ever would open up was in explanation of or argument about some expedient of wilderness life or travel. It sounded entirely logical. So we made camp.
Yank turned the two horses out into a grass meadow, and sat, his back against an oak tree, smoking his pipe and watching them. Johnny and I unrolled the beds, sorted out the simple cooking utensils, and started to cook. Occasional travellers on the road just above us shouted out friendly greetings. They were a miscellaneous lot. Most were headed toward the mountains. These journeyed in various ways. Some walked afoot and unencumbered, some carried apparently all their belongings on their backs, one outfit comprising three men had three saddle horses and four packs–a princely caravan. One of thecargadores’pack-trains went up the road enveloped in a thick cloud of dust–twenty or thirty pack-mules and four men on horseback herding them forward. A white mare, unharnessed save for a clanging bell, led the way; and all the mules followed her slavishly, the nose of one touching the tail of the other, as is the mule’s besotted fashion. They were gay little animals, with silver buttons on their harness, and yellow151sheepskin linings to their saddles. They carried a great variety of all sorts of things; and at the freighting rates quoted to us must have made money for their owners. Their drivers were a picturesque quartette in sombreros, wide sashes, and flowing garments. They sat their animals with a graceful careless ease beautiful to behold.
Near sundown two horsemen turned off the trail and rode down to our little trickle of water. When they drew near we recognized in one of them Don Gaspar Martinez. He wore still his gorgeous apparel of the day before, with only the addition of a pair of heavy silver ornamented spurs on his heels, and a brace of pistols in his sash. His horse, a magnificent chestnut, was harnessed in equal gorgeousness, with silvered broad bit, silver chains jangling therefrom, a plaited rawhide bridle and reins, a carved leather, high-pommelled saddle, also silver ornamented, and a bright coloured, woven saddle blanket beneath. The animal stepped daintily and proudly, lifting his little feet and planting them among the stones as though fastidiously. The man who rode with Don Gaspar was evidently of a lower class. He was, however, a straight handsome young fellow enough, with a dark clear complexion, a small moustache, and a pleasant smile. His dress and accoutrements were on the same general order as those of Don Gaspar, but of quieter colour and more serviceable material. His horse, however, was of the same high-bred type. A third animal followed, unled, packed with two cowhide boxes.
The Spaniard rode up to us and saluted courteously; then his eye lit with recognition.
152“Ah,” said he, “the good friends of our Capitan Sutter! This is to be well met. If it is not too much I would beg the favour of to camp.”
“By all means, Don Gaspar,” said Johnny rising. “The pleasure is of course our own.”
Again saluting us, Don Gaspar and his companion withdrew a short distance up the little meadow. There the Spaniard sat down beneath a bush and proceeded to smoke a cigaretto, while his companion unsaddled the horses, turned them loose to graze, stacked up their saddles, and made simple camping arrangements.
“Old Plush Pants doesn’t intend to do any work if he catches sight of it first,” observed Johnny.
“Probably the other man is a servant?” I suggested.
“More likely a sort of dependent,” amended Johnny. “They run a kind of patriarchal establishment, I’ve been told.”
“Don’t use them big words, Johnny,” complained Yank, coming up with the horses.
“I meant they make the poor relations and kid brothers do the hustling,” said Johnny.
“Now I understand you,” said Yank. “I wish I could see whattheydo with their hosses nights. I bet they know how. And if I was a hoss thief, I’d surely take a long chance for that chestnut gelding.”
“You might wander over later and find out,” I suggested.
“And get my system full of lead–sure,” said Yank.
The two camps did not exchange visits. We caught the flicker of their little fire; but we were really too tired153to be curious, and we turned in early, our two animals tied fast to small trees at our feet.
The next day lifted us into the mountains. Big green peaks across which hung a bluish haze showed themselves between the hills. The latter were more precipitous; and the brush had now given way to pines of better size and quality than those seen lower down. The river foamed over rapids or ran darkling in pools and stretches. Along the roadside, rarely, we came upon rough-looking log cabins, or shacks of canvas, or tents. The owners were not at home. We thought them miners; but in the light of subsequent knowledge I believe that unlikely–the diggings were farther in.
We came upon the diggings quite suddenly. The trail ran around the corner of a hill; and there they were below us! In the wide, dry stream bottom perhaps fifty men were working busily, like a lot of ants. Some were picking away at the surface of the ground, others had dug themselves down waist deep, and stooped and rose like legless bodies. Others had disappeared below ground, and showed occasionally only as shovel blades. From so far above the scene was very lively and animated, for each was working like a beaver, and the red shirts made gay little spots of colour. On the hillside clung a few white tents and log cabins; but the main town itself, we later discovered, as well as the larger diggings, lay around the bend and upstream.
We looked all about us for some path leading down to the river, but could find none; so perforce we had to continue on along the trail. Thus we entered the camp154of Hangman’s Gulch; for if it had been otherwise I am sure we would have located promptly where we had seen those red-shirted men.
The camp consisted merely of a closer-knit group of tents, log shacks, and a few larger buildings constructed of a queer combination of heavy hewn timbers and canvas. We saw nobody at all, though in some of the larger buildings we heard signs of life. However, we did not wait to investigate the wonders of Hangman’s Gulch, but drove our animals along the one street, looking for the trail that should lead us back to the diggings. We missed it, somehow, but struck into a beaten path that took us upstream. This we followed a few hundred yards. It proceeded along a rough, boulder-strewn river-bed, around a point of rough, jagged rocks, and out to a very wide gravelly flat through which the river had made itself a narrow channel. The flat swarmed with men, all of them busy, and very silent.
Leading our pack-horses we approached the nearest pair of these men, and stood watching them curiously. One held a coarse screen of willow which he shook continuously above a common cooking-pot, while the other slowly shovelled earth over this sieve. When the two pots, which with the shovel seemed to be all the tools these men possessed, had been half filled thus with the fine earth, the men carried them to the river. We followed. The miners carefully submerged the pots, and commenced to stir their contents with their doubled fists. The light earth muddied the water, floated upward, and then flowed slowly over the rim of the pots and down the current. After a155few minutes of this, they lifted the pots carefully, drained off the water, and started back.
“May we look?” ventured Johnny.
The taller man glanced at us, and our pack-horses, and nodded. This was the first time he had troubled to take a good look at us. The bottom of the pot was covered with fine black sand in which we caught the gleam and sparkle of something yellow.
“Is that gold?” I asked, awed.
“That’s gold,” the man repeated, his rather saturnine features lighting up with a grin. Then seeing our interest, he unbent a trifle. “We dry the sand, and then blow it away,” he explained; and strode back to where his companion was impatiently waiting.
We stumbled on over the rocks and débris. There were probably something near a hundred men at work in the gulch. We soon observed that the pot method was considered a very crude and simple way of getting out the gold. Most of the men carried iron pans full of the earth to the waterside, where, after submerging until the lighter earth had floated off, they slopped the remainder over the side with a peculiar twisting, whirling motion, leaving at last only the black sand–and the gold! These pan miners were in the great majority. But one group of four men was doing business on a larger scale. They had constructed what looked like a very shallow baby-cradle on rockers into which they poured their earth and water. By rocking the cradle violently but steadily, they spilled the mud over the sides. Cleats had been nailed in the bottom to catch the black sand.
156We wandered about here and there, looking with all our eyes. The miners were very busy and silent, but quite friendly, and allowed us to examine as much as we pleased the results of their operations. In the pots and cradles the yellow flake gold glittered plainly, contrasting with the black sand. In the pans, however, the residue spread out fan-shaped along the angle between the bottom and the side, and at the apex the gold lay heavy and beautiful all by itself. The men were generally bearded, tanned with working in this blinding sun, and plastered liberally with the red earth. We saw some queer sights, however; as when we came across a jolly pair dressed in what were the remains of ultra-fashionable garments up to and including plug hats! At one side working some distance from the stream were small groups of native Californians or Mexicans. They did not trouble to carry the earth all the way to the river; but, after screening it roughly, tossed it into the air above a canvas, thus winnowing out the heavier pay dirt. I thought this must be very disagreeable.
As we wandered about here and there among all these men so busily engaged, and with our own eyes saw pan after pan show gold, actual metallic guaranteed gold, such as rings and watches and money are made of, a growing excitement possessed us, the excitement of a small boy with a new and untried gun. We wanted to get at it ourselves. Only we did not know how.
Finally Yank approached one of the busy miners.
“Stranger,” said he, “we’re new to this. Maybe you can tell us where we can dig a little of this gold ourselves.”
157The man straightened his back, to exhibit a roving humorous blue eye, with which he examined Yank from top to toe.
“If,” said he, “it wasn’t for that eighteen-foot cannon you carry over your left arm, and a cold gray pair of eyes you carry in your head, I’d direct you up the sidehill yonder, and watch you sweat. As it is, you can work anywhere anybody else isn’t working. Start in!”
“Can we dig right next to you, then?” asked Yank, nodding at an unbroken piece of ground just upstream.
The miner clambered carefully out of his waist-deep trench, searched his pockets, produced a pipe and tobacco. After lighting this he made Yank a low bow.
“Thanks for the compliment; but I warn you, this claim of mine is not very rich. I’m thinking of trying somewhere else.”
“Don’t you get any gold?”
“Oh, a few ounces a day.”
“That suits me for a beginning,” said Yank decidedly. “Come on, boys!”
The miner hopped back into his hole, only to stick his head out again for the purpose of telling us:
“Mind you keep fifteen feet away!”
With eager hands we slipped a pick and shovels from beneath the pack ropes, undid our iron bucket, and without further delay commenced feverishly to dig.
Johnny held the pail, while Yank and I vied with each other in being the first to get our shovelfuls into that receptacle. As a consequence we nearly swamped the pail first off, and had to pour some of the earth out again.158Then we all three ran down to the river and took turns stirring that mud pie beneath the gently flowing waters in the manner of the “pot panners” we had first watched. After a good deal of trouble we found ourselves possessed of a thick layer of rocks and coarse pebbles.
“We forgot to screen it,” I pointed out.
“We haven’t any screen,” said Johnny.
“Let’s pick ’em out by hand?” suggested Yank.
We did so. The process emptied the pail. Each of us insisted on examining closely; but none of us succeeded in creating out of our desires any of that alluring black sand.
“I suppose we can’t expect to get colour every time?” observed Johnny disappointedly. “Let’s try her again.”
We tried her again: and yet again; and then some more; but always with the same result. Our hands became puffed and wrinkled with constant immersion in the water, and began to feel sore from the continual stirring of the rubble.
“Something wrong,” grunted Johnny into the abysmal silence in which we had been carrying on our work.
“We can’t expect it every time,” I reminded him.
“All the others seem to.”
“Well, maybe we’ve struck a blank place; let’s try somewhere else,” suggested Yank.
Johnny went over to speak to our neighbour, who was engaged in tossing out shovelfuls of earth from an excavation into which he had nearly disappeared. At Johnny’s hail, he straightened his back, so that his head bobbed out of the hole like a prairie dog.
159“No, it doesn’t matter where you dig,” he answered Johnny’s question. “The pay dirt is everywhere.”
So we moved on a few hundred feet, picked another unoccupied patch, and resumed our efforts. No greater success rewarded us here.
“I believe maybe we ought to go deeper,” surmised Yank.
“Some of these fellows are taking their dirt right off top of the ground,” objected Johnny.
However, we unlimbered the pickaxe and went deeper; to the extent of two feet or more. It was good hard work, especially as we were all soft for it. The sun poured down on our backs with burning intensity; our hands blistered; and the round rocks and half-cemented rubble that made the bar were not the easiest things in the world to remove. However, we kept at it. Yank and I, having in times past been more or less accustomed to this sort of thing, got off much easier than did poor Johnny. About two feet down we came to a mixed coarse sand and stones, a little finer than the top dirt. This seemed to us promising, so we resumed our washing operations. They bore the same results as had the first; which was just the whole of nothing.
“We’ve got to hit it somewhere,” said Johnny between his teeth. “Let’s try another place.”
We scrambled rather wearily, but with a dogged determination, out of our shallow hole. Our blue-eyed, long-bearded friend was sitting on a convenient boulder near at hand, his pipe between his teeth, watching our operations.
“Got any tobacco, boys?” he inquired genially. “Smoked my last until to-night, unless you’ll lend.”
160Yank produced a plug, from which the stranger shaved some parings.
“Struck the dirt?” he inquired. “No, I see you haven’t.” He stretched himself and arose. “You aren’t washing this stuff!” he cried in amazement, as his eye took in fully what we were about.
Then we learned what we might have known before–but how should we?–that the gold was not to be found in any and every sort of loose earth that might happen to be lying about, but only in either a sort of blue clay or a pulverized granite. Sometimes this “pay dirt” would be found atop the ground. Again, the miner had to dig for it.
“All the surface diggings are taken up,” our friend told us. “So now you have to dig deep. It’s about four feet down where I’m working. It’ll probably be deeper up here. You’d better move back where you were.”
Yank, stretched himself upright.
“Look here,” he said decidedly; “let’s get a little sense into ourselves. Here’s our pore old hosses standing with their packs on, and we no place to stay, and no dinner; and we’re scratchin’ away at this bar like a lot of fool hens. There’s other days comin’.”
Johnny and I agreed with the common sense of the thing, but reluctantly. Now that we knew how, our enthusiasm surged up again. We wanted to get at it. The stranger’s eyes twinkled sympathetically.
“Here, boys,” said he, “I know just how you feel. Come with me.”
He snatched up our bucket and strode back to his161own claim, where he filled the receptacle with some of the earth he had thrown out.
“Go pan that,” he advised us kindly.
We raced to the water, and once more stirred about the heavy contents of the pail until they had floated off with the water. In the bottom lay a fine black residue; and in that residue glittered the tiny yellow particles. We had actually panned our first gold!
Our friend examined it critically.
“That’s about a twelve-cent pan,” he adjudged it.
Somehow, in a vague way, we had unreasonably expected millions at a twist of the wrist; and the words, “twelve cents,” had a rankly penurious sound to us. However, the miner patiently explained that a twelve-cent pan was a very good one; and indubitably it was real gold.
Yank, being older and less excitable, had not accompanied us to the waterside.
“Well, boys,” he drawled, “that twelve cents is highly satisfactory, of course; but in the meantime we’ve lost about six hundred dollars’ worth of hoss and grub.”
Surely enough, our animals had tired of waiting for us, and had moved out packs and all. We hastily shouldered our implements.
“Don’t you want to keep this claim next me?” inquired our acquaintance.
We stopped.
“Surely!” I replied. “But how do we do it?”
“Just leave your pick and shovel in the hole.”
“Won’t some one steal them?”
“No.”
162“What’s to prevent?” I asked a little skeptically.
“Miners’ law,” he replied.
We almost immediately got trace of our strayed animals, as a number of men had seen them going upstream. In fact we had no difficulty whatever in finding them for they had simply followed up the rough stream-bed between the cañon walls until it had opened up to a gentler slope and a hanging garden of grass and flowers. Here they had turned aside and were feeding. We caught them, and were just heading them back, when Yank stopped short.
“What’s the matter with this here?” he inquired. “Here’s feed, and water near, and it ain’t so very far back to the diggings.”
We looked about us, for the first time with seeing eyes. The little up-sloping meadow was blue and dull red with flowers; below us the stream brawled foam flecked among black rocks; the high hills rose up to meet the sky, and at our backs across the way the pines stood thick serried. Far up in the blue heavens some birds were circling slowly. Somehow the leisurely swing of these unhasting birds struck from us the feverish hurry that had lately filled our souls. We drew deep breaths; and for the first time the great peace and majesty of these California mountains cooled our spirits.
“I think it’s a bully place, Yank,” said Johnny soberly, “and that little bench up above us looks flat.”
We clambered across the slant of the flower-spangled meadow to the bench, just within the fringe of the pines. It proved to be flat, and from the edge of it down the hill seeped a little spring marked by the feathery bracken.163We entered a cool green place, peopled with shadows and the rare, considered notes of soft-voiced birds. Just over our threshold, as it were, was the sunlit, chirpy, buzzing, bright-coloured, busy world. Overhead a wind of many voices hummed through the pine tops. The golden sunlight flooded the mountains opposite, flashed from the stream, lay languorous on the meadow. Long bars of it slanted through an unguessed gap in the hills behind us to touch with magic the very tops of the trees over our heads. The sheen of the precious metal was over the land.