Chapter Twenty One.

Chapter Twenty One.The Thompson River—Our Parties re-unite—Hippophagous Stores—Indian Revenge—We build a Raft and two Canoes—The Rapids, and our Dangers—Indians in Ambush.We had reached the banks of the Thompson, and were contemplating the possibility of descending it on a raft, when Stalker arrived and informed us that he had met an Indian who told him that, though we might possibly cut our way through the forest, we should find it a very arduous undertaking; that we might descend the Thompson by water, but that there were some fierce rapids on the way, into which, if we once plunged, we should inevitably be lost, and that we should in a much shorter time reach Cariboo if we went down the Frazer than by any other way. I agreed to his suggestion, though I still held to the opinion that one of the shortest roads from Red River to New Westminster will be found by the way we came and down the Thompson, and that with the aid of small steamers and ferry boats, and a gang of navvies and lumberers, it might speedily be made practicable. Yet, as we wished to get to Cariboo, we followed the Indian’s advice.Some days passed before we all again met on the banks of the Frazer River. Trevor and his party had met with numerous adventures, the most serious of which was the loss of one of our horses, laden with numerous valuables. Three horses had fallen over a cliff into the river. Two, after great exertions, had regained the bank; but the third was swept down the stream and never seen again. Our provisions were growing short, and though game was occasionally shot, it was not in quantities sufficient to make amends for the amount we exhausted, and we were unwilling to go on short allowance—thereby lessening our strength and power of endurance and impeding our progress. We accordingly determined to go on till we found some place where there was sufficient pasturage for our horses to give them a chance of life, to kill and dry the flesh of some of them to replenish our stock of meat, and, with ample provisions for the voyage, to commence our descent of the Frazer.The matter was earnestly discussed over our camp fire the evening of our re-assembling. We all know that the navigation of an unknown river on a raft is a most dangerous proceeding. If once a strong current gets hold of a raft, it is almost impossible for those on it to guide it properly. I therefore proposed that, besides a raft, we should form two dug-out canoes—that one should go ahead as pilot, and the other he attached to the raft to carry a rope on shore, so as to stop the raft when necessary. We were fortunate in soon finding an open, well-grassed valley suited for our object, where we might leave the horses which we did not require to kill. Of course, it was very likely that they would be taken possession of by Indians of bears. In every other respect there was no fear about their being able to take cure of themselves during any ordinary winter. Stalker told us a story which shows that people can exist even during the most severe winter with very little shelter, if they have a moderate supply of food. The event occurred many years ago.An officer of one of the fur trading companies of those days had received directions to establish a trading post on the banks of one of the rivers in that district. Either he or one of his brother officers had some time previously had to punish an Indian for some offence committed against the community. The man was hung; his tribe looked on, acknowledging the justice of his sentence, and took their departure without any expression of anger. The post was established, and as the natives in the neighbourhood were supposed to be friendly, it was only partly fortified. As soon as the house was built, a party of hunters was sent out to a spot four or five days’ march off, known to be well-stocked with beavers. One of them, a half-bred, Pierre Dorie by name, had his Indian wife and two small children with him, one three years old, the other only four mouths. Huts were built; and while the trappers were out, this faithful squaw of Dorie took charge of them. While she was occupied in her household affairs, one evening soon after winter had commenced, expecting the return of her husband and his companions, one of the hunters staggered into her hut mortally wounded. He had barely time to tell her that her husband and the rest were murdered by Indians, and to advise her to fly, when he fell down dead.With that courage and presence of mind which Indian women possess generally in so remarkable a degree, she prepared to escape with her children. Immediately hurrying out, she caught, with some difficulty, two horses, and, returning with them, packed up all the provisions the hut contained and some blankets and clothes. These she placed on one horse, and, mounting the other with her two infants, set out for the newly-built post, hoping to arrive in time to give notice of what had occurred, and put the officer in charge on his guard. She had accomplished two days of her journey without meeting with enemies, when, on the third, as she was pushing on as fast as the strength of her horses would allow, she espied in the distance a large body of Indians on horseback, galloping towards the fort. Her heart misgave her. She instantly dismounted, just in time to conceal herself and her horses in a copse ere the Indians passed by. Still fearing that they might be in the neighbourhood, she dared not light a fire or go in search of water. Early the next day she again set out, and late in the evening approached the spot where she expected to find the fort. It had disappeared,—a heap of ashes alone marking the place where it had stood. Still hoping to find some of the inmates alive, she concealed her children and the horses in a thick wood, and, arming herself with an axe and knife, crept cautiously towards the spot. Everywhere, traces of blood met her view. Still she hoped that some one might be concealed near. She called over the names of those who had been left in the fort. No one replied. She waited. Again she called. The melancholy howl of the prairie wolf was the only reply. She drew a little nearer. By the light of smouldering timbers, which a puff of wind just then fanned into a flame, she saw a band of those voracious creatures engaged in a banquet on the remains of her friends. A new terror seized her. They might attack her infants, whom she had left sleeping on the ground. Hurrying back, her heart sinking with dread, she was just in time to drive several away who were approaching the spot. The next morning she set out for a range of hills in the neighbourhood, bordering a river which falls into the Columbia. Here she proposed to remain during the winter.After looking about on all sides, she selected as her abode for the winter a rocky recess in the hills, near which a stream bubbled forth. She had in her possession a large buffalo robe and two deer skins. With these, aided by fir bark and cedar branches, she constructed a hut sufficiently large to afford shelter for herself and children. She soon, however—finding that her provisions would not last her during the winter—killed the two horses, and smoke-dried their flesh. Their skins further improved her tenement. In this cheerless and wretched abode, the poor widow with her infants spent the livelong winter, not even seeing at a distance a human being passing by finding, towards the end of March, that her stock of provisions was growing short, she packed up the remainder, and, with as much covering as she could carry in addition to her youngest child on her back, set out, holding the other by the hand, towards a spot on the Columbia river, by which she knew the Company’s canoes would certainly pass. Fortunately, she met a tribe of friendly Indians, who treated her and her children with the greatest kindness, and after residing with them for some weeks, she saw the looked-for trading canoes arrive, and was ultimately restored to her friends.We had plenty to occupy us in the construction of our raft and two canoes. The raft was to be just large enough to carry six men and Ready. Each canoe was to be capable of carrying two men, though the ordinary crew was to consist only of one man. Not one of us had ever before made a dug-out, and as the huge trunks of two trees which we had felled for the purpose lay prostrate before us, the undertaking seemed almost hopeless. “Nothing try, nothing have,” cried Trevor, seizing an axe and chopping away at the branches. We next cut the first tree into the proposed length, and smoothed off the upper part for the gunwale. On their flat surface I marked off the shape, as I used to do when cutting out a vessel as a boy.“Let us give her good floors and all the beam we can, and she will be stiff,” said Trevor.This we did; and as we proceeded with our work, we were well satisfied with it, and found that we could get on far more expeditiously than at first. While Trevor and I worked away on the canoes, the other men were progressing with the raft, and preparing the other log for our finishing. The first canoe was completed and launched with due ceremony under the name of theHope. The next was called theBeauty. They both swam pretty well, but the sides being rather thick they were deeper in the water than was desirable. Still, as they were much more manageable than a raft could be, I regretted that we had not time to build more canoes large enough to carry all the party, and our provisions and goods. We made several additional paddles, as also a supply of poles, which were loaded on to the raft. The last thing I thought of was a mast and sail for the raft, as, under many circumstances, it might enable us to guide the raft, especially if the wind was against us, and a rapid near at hand.One lovely bright morning we cast off from the shore, and commenced our perilous undertaking. Quick-ear had been down the river in his youth, but it was so long ago that he had forgotten the distances. All he could say was, that there were several dangerous rapids; but he could not say where they occurred. Stalker went first, and acted as pilot, and Garoupe had charge of the tender. The raft was tolerably heavily laden, and required careful handling. Each man on the raft had a pole as well as a paddle, to be used as circumstances required. I acted as captain, for I certainly knew as much about the navigation as any one on board, and it was necessary that some one should be in command. I also steered with a long oar fixed on a triangle at one end of the raft, while the rest of the party were arranged with paddles on either side. In the centre we placed the stores, and close to them Ready generally took his post, while the stores and provisions were placed round it. The scenery was grand—much as I have before described it—lofty, rugged mountains, their summits covered with snow, sometimes near, sometimes in the far distance; steep precipices, rugged wild rocks, and forests of trees of every size, with many fallen ones, some just uprooted, others soft from decay; here and there green glades, marshes, and other open spaces; while, by the sides of the rivers, and frequently in mid current, huge water-worn boulders, which it was often no easy matter, in our downward course, to avoid.For several days the weather was fine, and we went on smoothly enough—camping at night on convenient spots. To prevent accidents, we unloaded our raft, placed the goods in the centre of the camp, and drew up our canoes. On the fourth night of our voyage, Ready, who was our most vigilant watcher, suddenly broke into a loud bark, and started towards a copse close to us. I sprang to my feet; so did Peter, who said that he saw a dark form moving among the trees. Whether it was a bear or a human being he could not tell. Whatever it was, it made its escape before Ready could come up with it, and I called him back lest he should be injured if allowed to be without support. Of course, the whole camp was aroused. Two scouts crept out cautiously, but could discover nothing, and the opinion was, that some small animal had aroused Ready and that Peter’s imagination had conjured up the figure in the wood. I thought it better, however, to keep on watch during the remainder of the night. Ready was far from easy, and several times started up and uttered low growls and short shrill barks.We embarked at the usual hour in the morning. In a short time Stalker came back and reported that the navigation was far more difficult than heretofore, though with caution we might get through. “Let’s try it by all means,” was the cry. We were getting bold, and thought that we could do anything with our raft. Stalker, accordingly, again went on ahead, and we poled and paddled towards an opening among the rocks which he pointed out. Suddenly our poles lost bottom, and we found the raft whirled on at a rate which prevented me from guiding it in the way I had hitherto done. The paddles were almost useless. All we could do was to let the raft drive on, and to try and avoid the dangers as they appeared. We had passed several rocks, against which, if we had touched them, the raft might easily have been knocked to pieces, when a huge rock appeared before us, round which the water rushed with the force of a mill stream.In vain Garoupe tried to tow us off from it—it was too late to attempt to carry a rope to the opposite shore—in vain all hands paddled to keep it clear. The raft struck, and remained caught by the rocks, the water immediately swelling up and threatening to sweep off the goods on it. Garoupe, instantly telling Swiftfoot to jump in, paddled off with a rope to the opposite shore. In the meantime, I saw that the water was shallow between the raft and the shore near which we were jammed. Accordingly, I told Quick-ear to try it, which he did, and finding it shallow, began at once to carry the goods on shore. This appearing the best thing to be done, Trevor, I, and Peter set about helping him. We had already landed several things, and Trevor and Peter were with Gaby on the raft, when, suddenly, from its being so much lightened, the current lifted it up, and away it went floating off the rock and down the stream. Garoupe and Swiftfoot made an attempt to stop it with the rope, but that snapped, and the raft was hurried on. I ran along the bank, which was here tolerably smooth. I saw Trevor sounding with his pole, and the next moment he and his two companions leaped overboard, and attempted to drag the raft towards the shore. Utterly hopeless was the attempt. It was forced from their grasp. I saw Gaby frantically pulling at it; but his foot slipped, and he let go his hold. The other two leaped on it, and on it floated, while he with difficulty gained a pointed rock in the middle of the stream, where he sat, by no means like “Patience on a monument smiling at Grief,” but frantically calling out for the canoe to come to his rescue.While this was taking place, Garoupe and Swiftfoot had embarked in the canoe, and were going in pursuit of the raft; but the channel they took carried them at a distance from poor Gaby—besides which, he would have upset the canoe had he attempted to get into it Quick-ear and I ran on, he taking the lead, over the rocky ground, with a rope which he had brought on shore, hoping to render assistance to our companions on the raft. Gaby, believing himself abandoned, shouted more frantically than ever. I could only urge him to stick fast till we could return to his assistance; and the rocks soon hid him from sight. Once more, after an arduous run over rough boulders, among which I expected every instant to fall and break my legs, if not my neck, I again caught sight of the raft sticking fast between two rocks. Ready had, as he always did, kept close to my heels whenever he saw that there was work to be done, and when I put the end of the rope Quick-ear had brought into his mouth, he at once comprehended that he was to swim off with it to Peter, to whom I shouted to call him. Ready accomplished his task, and we now thought that, at all events, we should be able to land the remainder of the goods. Once again Quick-ear and I waded off with the assistance of the rope; though the water was deeper and the current stronger than I fancied, with a heavy load on my shoulder; just, however, as we got on the raft it swung round, and the cleat to which the rope was fastened gave way.The raft floated off into deep water, and was carried quickly towards some swifter rapids than we had just passed. Though we might escape with our lives, still, the greater part of our provisions would be destroyed, and without them we could not hope to prosecute our voyage round to Cariboo. Just at that critical moment the canoes reached us. Stalker and Garoupe towed with all their might. We all paddled, and, at length, finding bottom with our poles, forced the raft into a counter eddy, and then, without much trouble, reached the shore.Our difficulties had now, however, only just begun. We had to unload the raft, and to transport all our goods by land to the foot of the rapid. However, with larger canoes, Stalker was of opinion that we should have had no difficulty in getting down the rapid. Each package was done up so as to weigh as much as a man could carry over rough ground. On examination, it was found that the bank opposite to that on which we had hitherto camped was the easiest for the portage. With much caution, and the aid of all our ropes, we therefore towed our raft across the river, and began unloading. Stalker, meantime, paddled up the stream to relieve poor Gaby from his unpleasant position. The rest of us were so busily occupied that we scarcely noted how time sped. I had made one trip to the end of the portage, and was lifting up another load, when Gaby’s voice saluted my ears. His clothes, still wet, clung to his thin body, and his countenance wore a most lugubrious expression.“I guess, friend, we are in a pretty fix,” he observed.He then told me that while he had been on the rock he saw three Indians in their war-paint and feathers, who had emerged from the wood and stood eyeing him as he sat on the rock; that soon they were joined by others, who drew their bows with arrows pointed at him; that one shot, but the arrow fell short, and that they shook their heads as if of opinion that they could not reach him. They then disappeared into the depths of the forest. This information, coupled with what Peter had asserted he had seen the previous night, made us fear that we were watched by Indians, who would very likely fall on us, if they found us unprepared to receive them. We considered ourselves, therefore, fortunate in having crossed the river so that they could not reach us unless they had canoes, and we had seen none on our way down. It was very heavy work carrying our property along the portage. When Stalker undertook to carry the raft down the rapid Gaby volunteered to accompany him. All we could do was to bring up the goods we had at first landed to a camp near the raft. We formed it among rocks which would afford us good shelter on either side should we be attacked by Indians. However, as the tribes in that direction are generally friendly to the white men, we did not expect to be attacked by a large body, though we thought it very possible that a few individuals might have formed a plan to cut us off and possess themselves of our property. So we kept a sharp look out, and the possibility of being attacked added greatly to our difficulties.

We had reached the banks of the Thompson, and were contemplating the possibility of descending it on a raft, when Stalker arrived and informed us that he had met an Indian who told him that, though we might possibly cut our way through the forest, we should find it a very arduous undertaking; that we might descend the Thompson by water, but that there were some fierce rapids on the way, into which, if we once plunged, we should inevitably be lost, and that we should in a much shorter time reach Cariboo if we went down the Frazer than by any other way. I agreed to his suggestion, though I still held to the opinion that one of the shortest roads from Red River to New Westminster will be found by the way we came and down the Thompson, and that with the aid of small steamers and ferry boats, and a gang of navvies and lumberers, it might speedily be made practicable. Yet, as we wished to get to Cariboo, we followed the Indian’s advice.

Some days passed before we all again met on the banks of the Frazer River. Trevor and his party had met with numerous adventures, the most serious of which was the loss of one of our horses, laden with numerous valuables. Three horses had fallen over a cliff into the river. Two, after great exertions, had regained the bank; but the third was swept down the stream and never seen again. Our provisions were growing short, and though game was occasionally shot, it was not in quantities sufficient to make amends for the amount we exhausted, and we were unwilling to go on short allowance—thereby lessening our strength and power of endurance and impeding our progress. We accordingly determined to go on till we found some place where there was sufficient pasturage for our horses to give them a chance of life, to kill and dry the flesh of some of them to replenish our stock of meat, and, with ample provisions for the voyage, to commence our descent of the Frazer.

The matter was earnestly discussed over our camp fire the evening of our re-assembling. We all know that the navigation of an unknown river on a raft is a most dangerous proceeding. If once a strong current gets hold of a raft, it is almost impossible for those on it to guide it properly. I therefore proposed that, besides a raft, we should form two dug-out canoes—that one should go ahead as pilot, and the other he attached to the raft to carry a rope on shore, so as to stop the raft when necessary. We were fortunate in soon finding an open, well-grassed valley suited for our object, where we might leave the horses which we did not require to kill. Of course, it was very likely that they would be taken possession of by Indians of bears. In every other respect there was no fear about their being able to take cure of themselves during any ordinary winter. Stalker told us a story which shows that people can exist even during the most severe winter with very little shelter, if they have a moderate supply of food. The event occurred many years ago.

An officer of one of the fur trading companies of those days had received directions to establish a trading post on the banks of one of the rivers in that district. Either he or one of his brother officers had some time previously had to punish an Indian for some offence committed against the community. The man was hung; his tribe looked on, acknowledging the justice of his sentence, and took their departure without any expression of anger. The post was established, and as the natives in the neighbourhood were supposed to be friendly, it was only partly fortified. As soon as the house was built, a party of hunters was sent out to a spot four or five days’ march off, known to be well-stocked with beavers. One of them, a half-bred, Pierre Dorie by name, had his Indian wife and two small children with him, one three years old, the other only four mouths. Huts were built; and while the trappers were out, this faithful squaw of Dorie took charge of them. While she was occupied in her household affairs, one evening soon after winter had commenced, expecting the return of her husband and his companions, one of the hunters staggered into her hut mortally wounded. He had barely time to tell her that her husband and the rest were murdered by Indians, and to advise her to fly, when he fell down dead.

With that courage and presence of mind which Indian women possess generally in so remarkable a degree, she prepared to escape with her children. Immediately hurrying out, she caught, with some difficulty, two horses, and, returning with them, packed up all the provisions the hut contained and some blankets and clothes. These she placed on one horse, and, mounting the other with her two infants, set out for the newly-built post, hoping to arrive in time to give notice of what had occurred, and put the officer in charge on his guard. She had accomplished two days of her journey without meeting with enemies, when, on the third, as she was pushing on as fast as the strength of her horses would allow, she espied in the distance a large body of Indians on horseback, galloping towards the fort. Her heart misgave her. She instantly dismounted, just in time to conceal herself and her horses in a copse ere the Indians passed by. Still fearing that they might be in the neighbourhood, she dared not light a fire or go in search of water. Early the next day she again set out, and late in the evening approached the spot where she expected to find the fort. It had disappeared,—a heap of ashes alone marking the place where it had stood. Still hoping to find some of the inmates alive, she concealed her children and the horses in a thick wood, and, arming herself with an axe and knife, crept cautiously towards the spot. Everywhere, traces of blood met her view. Still she hoped that some one might be concealed near. She called over the names of those who had been left in the fort. No one replied. She waited. Again she called. The melancholy howl of the prairie wolf was the only reply. She drew a little nearer. By the light of smouldering timbers, which a puff of wind just then fanned into a flame, she saw a band of those voracious creatures engaged in a banquet on the remains of her friends. A new terror seized her. They might attack her infants, whom she had left sleeping on the ground. Hurrying back, her heart sinking with dread, she was just in time to drive several away who were approaching the spot. The next morning she set out for a range of hills in the neighbourhood, bordering a river which falls into the Columbia. Here she proposed to remain during the winter.

After looking about on all sides, she selected as her abode for the winter a rocky recess in the hills, near which a stream bubbled forth. She had in her possession a large buffalo robe and two deer skins. With these, aided by fir bark and cedar branches, she constructed a hut sufficiently large to afford shelter for herself and children. She soon, however—finding that her provisions would not last her during the winter—killed the two horses, and smoke-dried their flesh. Their skins further improved her tenement. In this cheerless and wretched abode, the poor widow with her infants spent the livelong winter, not even seeing at a distance a human being passing by finding, towards the end of March, that her stock of provisions was growing short, she packed up the remainder, and, with as much covering as she could carry in addition to her youngest child on her back, set out, holding the other by the hand, towards a spot on the Columbia river, by which she knew the Company’s canoes would certainly pass. Fortunately, she met a tribe of friendly Indians, who treated her and her children with the greatest kindness, and after residing with them for some weeks, she saw the looked-for trading canoes arrive, and was ultimately restored to her friends.

We had plenty to occupy us in the construction of our raft and two canoes. The raft was to be just large enough to carry six men and Ready. Each canoe was to be capable of carrying two men, though the ordinary crew was to consist only of one man. Not one of us had ever before made a dug-out, and as the huge trunks of two trees which we had felled for the purpose lay prostrate before us, the undertaking seemed almost hopeless. “Nothing try, nothing have,” cried Trevor, seizing an axe and chopping away at the branches. We next cut the first tree into the proposed length, and smoothed off the upper part for the gunwale. On their flat surface I marked off the shape, as I used to do when cutting out a vessel as a boy.

“Let us give her good floors and all the beam we can, and she will be stiff,” said Trevor.

This we did; and as we proceeded with our work, we were well satisfied with it, and found that we could get on far more expeditiously than at first. While Trevor and I worked away on the canoes, the other men were progressing with the raft, and preparing the other log for our finishing. The first canoe was completed and launched with due ceremony under the name of theHope. The next was called theBeauty. They both swam pretty well, but the sides being rather thick they were deeper in the water than was desirable. Still, as they were much more manageable than a raft could be, I regretted that we had not time to build more canoes large enough to carry all the party, and our provisions and goods. We made several additional paddles, as also a supply of poles, which were loaded on to the raft. The last thing I thought of was a mast and sail for the raft, as, under many circumstances, it might enable us to guide the raft, especially if the wind was against us, and a rapid near at hand.

One lovely bright morning we cast off from the shore, and commenced our perilous undertaking. Quick-ear had been down the river in his youth, but it was so long ago that he had forgotten the distances. All he could say was, that there were several dangerous rapids; but he could not say where they occurred. Stalker went first, and acted as pilot, and Garoupe had charge of the tender. The raft was tolerably heavily laden, and required careful handling. Each man on the raft had a pole as well as a paddle, to be used as circumstances required. I acted as captain, for I certainly knew as much about the navigation as any one on board, and it was necessary that some one should be in command. I also steered with a long oar fixed on a triangle at one end of the raft, while the rest of the party were arranged with paddles on either side. In the centre we placed the stores, and close to them Ready generally took his post, while the stores and provisions were placed round it. The scenery was grand—much as I have before described it—lofty, rugged mountains, their summits covered with snow, sometimes near, sometimes in the far distance; steep precipices, rugged wild rocks, and forests of trees of every size, with many fallen ones, some just uprooted, others soft from decay; here and there green glades, marshes, and other open spaces; while, by the sides of the rivers, and frequently in mid current, huge water-worn boulders, which it was often no easy matter, in our downward course, to avoid.

For several days the weather was fine, and we went on smoothly enough—camping at night on convenient spots. To prevent accidents, we unloaded our raft, placed the goods in the centre of the camp, and drew up our canoes. On the fourth night of our voyage, Ready, who was our most vigilant watcher, suddenly broke into a loud bark, and started towards a copse close to us. I sprang to my feet; so did Peter, who said that he saw a dark form moving among the trees. Whether it was a bear or a human being he could not tell. Whatever it was, it made its escape before Ready could come up with it, and I called him back lest he should be injured if allowed to be without support. Of course, the whole camp was aroused. Two scouts crept out cautiously, but could discover nothing, and the opinion was, that some small animal had aroused Ready and that Peter’s imagination had conjured up the figure in the wood. I thought it better, however, to keep on watch during the remainder of the night. Ready was far from easy, and several times started up and uttered low growls and short shrill barks.

We embarked at the usual hour in the morning. In a short time Stalker came back and reported that the navigation was far more difficult than heretofore, though with caution we might get through. “Let’s try it by all means,” was the cry. We were getting bold, and thought that we could do anything with our raft. Stalker, accordingly, again went on ahead, and we poled and paddled towards an opening among the rocks which he pointed out. Suddenly our poles lost bottom, and we found the raft whirled on at a rate which prevented me from guiding it in the way I had hitherto done. The paddles were almost useless. All we could do was to let the raft drive on, and to try and avoid the dangers as they appeared. We had passed several rocks, against which, if we had touched them, the raft might easily have been knocked to pieces, when a huge rock appeared before us, round which the water rushed with the force of a mill stream.

In vain Garoupe tried to tow us off from it—it was too late to attempt to carry a rope to the opposite shore—in vain all hands paddled to keep it clear. The raft struck, and remained caught by the rocks, the water immediately swelling up and threatening to sweep off the goods on it. Garoupe, instantly telling Swiftfoot to jump in, paddled off with a rope to the opposite shore. In the meantime, I saw that the water was shallow between the raft and the shore near which we were jammed. Accordingly, I told Quick-ear to try it, which he did, and finding it shallow, began at once to carry the goods on shore. This appearing the best thing to be done, Trevor, I, and Peter set about helping him. We had already landed several things, and Trevor and Peter were with Gaby on the raft, when, suddenly, from its being so much lightened, the current lifted it up, and away it went floating off the rock and down the stream. Garoupe and Swiftfoot made an attempt to stop it with the rope, but that snapped, and the raft was hurried on. I ran along the bank, which was here tolerably smooth. I saw Trevor sounding with his pole, and the next moment he and his two companions leaped overboard, and attempted to drag the raft towards the shore. Utterly hopeless was the attempt. It was forced from their grasp. I saw Gaby frantically pulling at it; but his foot slipped, and he let go his hold. The other two leaped on it, and on it floated, while he with difficulty gained a pointed rock in the middle of the stream, where he sat, by no means like “Patience on a monument smiling at Grief,” but frantically calling out for the canoe to come to his rescue.

While this was taking place, Garoupe and Swiftfoot had embarked in the canoe, and were going in pursuit of the raft; but the channel they took carried them at a distance from poor Gaby—besides which, he would have upset the canoe had he attempted to get into it Quick-ear and I ran on, he taking the lead, over the rocky ground, with a rope which he had brought on shore, hoping to render assistance to our companions on the raft. Gaby, believing himself abandoned, shouted more frantically than ever. I could only urge him to stick fast till we could return to his assistance; and the rocks soon hid him from sight. Once more, after an arduous run over rough boulders, among which I expected every instant to fall and break my legs, if not my neck, I again caught sight of the raft sticking fast between two rocks. Ready had, as he always did, kept close to my heels whenever he saw that there was work to be done, and when I put the end of the rope Quick-ear had brought into his mouth, he at once comprehended that he was to swim off with it to Peter, to whom I shouted to call him. Ready accomplished his task, and we now thought that, at all events, we should be able to land the remainder of the goods. Once again Quick-ear and I waded off with the assistance of the rope; though the water was deeper and the current stronger than I fancied, with a heavy load on my shoulder; just, however, as we got on the raft it swung round, and the cleat to which the rope was fastened gave way.

The raft floated off into deep water, and was carried quickly towards some swifter rapids than we had just passed. Though we might escape with our lives, still, the greater part of our provisions would be destroyed, and without them we could not hope to prosecute our voyage round to Cariboo. Just at that critical moment the canoes reached us. Stalker and Garoupe towed with all their might. We all paddled, and, at length, finding bottom with our poles, forced the raft into a counter eddy, and then, without much trouble, reached the shore.

Our difficulties had now, however, only just begun. We had to unload the raft, and to transport all our goods by land to the foot of the rapid. However, with larger canoes, Stalker was of opinion that we should have had no difficulty in getting down the rapid. Each package was done up so as to weigh as much as a man could carry over rough ground. On examination, it was found that the bank opposite to that on which we had hitherto camped was the easiest for the portage. With much caution, and the aid of all our ropes, we therefore towed our raft across the river, and began unloading. Stalker, meantime, paddled up the stream to relieve poor Gaby from his unpleasant position. The rest of us were so busily occupied that we scarcely noted how time sped. I had made one trip to the end of the portage, and was lifting up another load, when Gaby’s voice saluted my ears. His clothes, still wet, clung to his thin body, and his countenance wore a most lugubrious expression.

“I guess, friend, we are in a pretty fix,” he observed.

He then told me that while he had been on the rock he saw three Indians in their war-paint and feathers, who had emerged from the wood and stood eyeing him as he sat on the rock; that soon they were joined by others, who drew their bows with arrows pointed at him; that one shot, but the arrow fell short, and that they shook their heads as if of opinion that they could not reach him. They then disappeared into the depths of the forest. This information, coupled with what Peter had asserted he had seen the previous night, made us fear that we were watched by Indians, who would very likely fall on us, if they found us unprepared to receive them. We considered ourselves, therefore, fortunate in having crossed the river so that they could not reach us unless they had canoes, and we had seen none on our way down. It was very heavy work carrying our property along the portage. When Stalker undertook to carry the raft down the rapid Gaby volunteered to accompany him. All we could do was to bring up the goods we had at first landed to a camp near the raft. We formed it among rocks which would afford us good shelter on either side should we be attacked by Indians. However, as the tribes in that direction are generally friendly to the white men, we did not expect to be attacked by a large body, though we thought it very possible that a few individuals might have formed a plan to cut us off and possess themselves of our property. So we kept a sharp look out, and the possibility of being attacked added greatly to our difficulties.

Chapter Twenty Two.We send out Scouts—We pass the Rapids—Swiftfoot returns alone—Indians surround us—A War-Party burn our vacated Camp—Quick-ear, pursued by Indians, arrives—We build more Canoes—Reach Fort St. George.The next morning, Swiftfoot and Quick-ear went out as scouts to ascertain if any enemies were in the neighbourhood; and soon they returned with the report that they could find no traces of enemies.Having made four trips during the morning with our goods, I proposed placing a portion of them on the raft and accompanying Stalker on it down the rapid. One of the canoes we hauled up on the raft. Garoupe took charge of the other. Stalker—who had surveyed the passage—Habakkuk, and I, navigated the raft. The rest of the party, under Trevor, made the best of their way along the portage. We cast off, and away we went whirling down the rapid. Sometimes the raft rocked so much that we could scarcely keep our feet. Now we were hurried towards a rock, as if about to be dashed on it, when a stroke from Stalker’s pole would drive us off again. It was exceedingly exciting, though somewhat trying to the nerves. The water boiled, and bubbled, and hissed, and rocked us up and down. Then, again, the raft would glide into water rapid as ever, but perfectly smooth, only an instant afterwards to be tossed about as if in a whirlpool. I have seldom felt more happy than when I found that we were safely through and in a wide reach of the river. We poled the raft to shore, and securing it, began at once to reload it with all the goods which had arrived.While thus occupied, waiting for the remainder of our party, we distinctly saw several Indians peering at us from among the trees on the opposite side of the river. When they saw that we stopped in our labours and looked towards them they disappeared. This made us somewhat anxious, for it was certain that they could not be well-disposed towards white men, or they would have come out and had some communication with us. They must have seen, however, that we were not a party to be trifled with, and that if they meditated attempting to get possession of our property, they would have to pay dearly for it. As we had still three or four hours of daylight, instead of stopping to dine as soon as the rest of our party arrived, we all embarked and continued our course. The river, however, here expanded into almost a lakelike width, and the current was less rapid than usual, while the wind was adverse, and we made much less progress than we expected. We paddled on as long as we could, wishing to find a convenient camping place on the left bank. After all, we were compelled to land on the right bank, on which we had seen the Indians. We had very little fear of them, however, though it compelled us to keep a more careful watch than we should otherwise have done.As soon as our camp was formed and we had taken a hearty meal, of which we all stood greatly in need, we sent out Swiftfoot and Quick-ear as scouts, to ascertain if any Indians were in the neighbourhood. The night drew on. The rest of the party lay down to rest with their arms by their sides. However, with Ready, I walked round and round the camp, for our scouts were so long absent that I became anxious about their safety. At length, my ear caught the sound of footsteps approaching at a rapid rate. Ready stopped, with his nose out, and then advanced a few steps, but did not bark. By this, I guessed that it was one of our scouts coming back. I was not mistaken; and I had good reason to be thankful that I had sent him out. He told me that he had come upon a large body of Indians seated round their fires and holding a council of war; that, as far as he could understand their dialect, they proposed attacking us when they could catch us unprepared, and seemed very much to regret that they had not done so when we were passing down the rapids in the morning. He gathered, moreover, from their eagerness to attack us forthwith and from some other remarks they made, that the navigation of the river for a considerable distance below where we were was very easy. They appeared to be awaiting the arrival of another party equally numerous as themselves. Swiftfoot expressed his fears that Quick-ear had fallen into the hands of the party, when, after waiting some time, he did not appear at the camp.At length, I aroused my companions, and told them what I had heard. Trevor proposed fortifying the camp and waiting to receive the enemy. Stalker suggested that we should embark at once and continue our voyage, and that Garoupe and Swiftfoot should wait in the canoe to bring on Quick-ear if he should appear.“But that will seem like running away from the enemy,” urged Trevor, like a stout John Bull as he was.“I kalkilate the wisest thing is to do what is most profitable, and I don’t see much profit in stopping to fight a gang of red varmints,” observed Habakkuk.I agreed with Stalker, and at length Trevor gave way, and we loaded the raft as rapidly as we could lift the goods on board. Garoupe consented to remain for Quick-ear, and we hoped to navigate the raft without his aid.We embarked with as little noise as possible, and now shoving off, followed Stalker down the stream. I experienced a peculiarly solemn and awful feeling so we glided down that dark unknown stream, with the primeval forest rising up on either side, and still more so when we entered a mountainous region where the rocks towered up some twelve or fifteen hundred feet directly above our heads. We feared from the appearance of the river that we might be approaching some rapid. We accordingly moored the raft to a rock, while Stalker paddled on ahead to explore. After waiting for some time, we heard his voice shouting to us to come on. As we were easting off the rope the sound of a paddle was heard up the stream, and we accordingly kept on. In a short time Swiftfoot came alongside. He had waited under the bank, a little lower down than our camp. Suddenly, loud and fearful shrieks rent the air, and a large body of savages burst into our camp. It was certainly better for us not to have been there, and better for them too, for, although we might have killed a number of them, yet that would have been a poor satisfaction if they had killed one of us. They must have been woefully disappointed when they found that the birds they expected to catch had flown. We had now too much reason to fear that Quick-ear had fallen into the hands of the savages. Poor fellow! we could not go back to his assistance, though I must say I felt ashamed of deserting him without further search.Morning at last broke, and we were still progressing along a deep, rapid, and clear stream, free from rocks or shallows. We hoped that by this time we had got far beyond the reach of the enemy. As I had looked up at the stars in the clear night, I had, however, observed that the river made several sharp bends, and thus I knew that we had not really made good any great distance through the country. As the sun rose there was a general cry for breakfast, and we accordingly put into a little bay with a small extent of grassy ground—a pleasant nook in the bush. We lit our fires, and breakfasted sumptuously on dried horse-flesh, converted into a capital stew, with the aid of some cloves, garlic, and pepper and salt, by allowing the steaks to simmer over a slow fire after being first briskly boiled in our frying-pans in just enough water to cover the meat. We also had hot dampers and plenty of strong tea, guiltless, however, of milk, which was a luxury we had not indulged in for many a long month.Though the situation of the spot tempted us to remain some hours, that we might get some animals to stock our larder, yet, lest the hostile Indians should overtake us, we deemed it more prudent to continue our voyage. We had just packed up our cooking things and were stepping on board, when we heard a shout close to us, and the next instant Quick-ear burst through the wood and sprang on board the raft, crying out that the enemy were close upon him. We lost no time, therefore, in shoving off; and, as we were paddling down the river, we saw the spot we had just left filled with savage and yelling warriors. Quick-ear had had a long and desperate run, and it was some time before he could speak. When he recovered, he told us that he had found his way back to the camp just after it had been occupied by the savages, and guessing that we had gone down the river, he set off by an Indian track which he thought would lead to it at some point we were likely to pass. He had got some distance, when he found that the enemy were following, probably with the intention of cutting us off. This made him still further increase his speed. He had been seen by them a mile or two before he reached us, and had to run for his life. Had he been a minute later, he would have missed us altogether.For several days we went on promisingly, when one day Stalker came paddling back to warn us that we were approaching a fierce rapid. We accordingly urged the raft to the shore, and landing our goods, prepared for a long portage. Still, we proposed attempting to carry down the raft. Stalker, Trevor, and I, in attempting to shoot one of the worst rapids, were very nearly lost. We had just time to spring into the canoes, which were on the top of it, when the raft was dashed to pieces. With considerable difficulty we paddled the canoes through, and had they been of birch-bark instead of dug-outs, they must inevitably have shared the fate of the raft. Had our provisions been on the latter, we might eventually have lost our lives. When, at length, we reached the foot of the rapid, we determined to do what it would have been wise in us had we done at first—that is, built canoes to convey the whole party and our goods. We here found some fine trees for the purpose, and, assisted by our former experience, in the course of a few days we had built two large canoes. As we had no saw, we had to chip our boards to form gunwales to them. Swiftfoot and Quick-ear sewed these on very neatly, so that the capacity of the canoes was very greatly increased. The sides of the two smaller canoes being raised in the same way, and then joined together, were also capable of carrying a considerable cargo.Our voyage was much longer than we had expected; we ate up nearly all our provisions, expended the greater part of our powder, tobacco, and tea,—the great essentials in the bush,—and wore out our clothes and our patience. At length, however, we reached Fort George, a fort of the Hudson’s Bay Company, where we received that attention and hospitality for which its officers are so justly famed. After quitting Fort St. George we continued the descent of the Frazer to the month of the Quesnelle River, where a town has sprang up. Landing here, and leaving our canoes in store, we prepared to tramp it across country to Richfield, the capital of the Cariboo district. We overtook parties of the wildest set of fellows it has ever been my lot to encounter, people of all nations, and tongues, and colours.The land in the district of Fort George is admirably adapted for agriculture, as all the European cereals, together with potatoes, turnips, carrots, and other esculent vegetables, arrive at full maturity. The white population consists chiefly of old servants of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and emigrants from the Highlands of Scotland. Indeed, the whole of this “Prairie Region,” as it is called, on account of the immense plains devoid almost of timber, and requiring, in consequence, no outlay for clearing, would no doubt before long be under the plough, if the Home Government would open up roads through the district. Barley and oats ripen even at Fort Norman, at a latitude of 65 degrees.

The next morning, Swiftfoot and Quick-ear went out as scouts to ascertain if any enemies were in the neighbourhood; and soon they returned with the report that they could find no traces of enemies.

Having made four trips during the morning with our goods, I proposed placing a portion of them on the raft and accompanying Stalker on it down the rapid. One of the canoes we hauled up on the raft. Garoupe took charge of the other. Stalker—who had surveyed the passage—Habakkuk, and I, navigated the raft. The rest of the party, under Trevor, made the best of their way along the portage. We cast off, and away we went whirling down the rapid. Sometimes the raft rocked so much that we could scarcely keep our feet. Now we were hurried towards a rock, as if about to be dashed on it, when a stroke from Stalker’s pole would drive us off again. It was exceedingly exciting, though somewhat trying to the nerves. The water boiled, and bubbled, and hissed, and rocked us up and down. Then, again, the raft would glide into water rapid as ever, but perfectly smooth, only an instant afterwards to be tossed about as if in a whirlpool. I have seldom felt more happy than when I found that we were safely through and in a wide reach of the river. We poled the raft to shore, and securing it, began at once to reload it with all the goods which had arrived.

While thus occupied, waiting for the remainder of our party, we distinctly saw several Indians peering at us from among the trees on the opposite side of the river. When they saw that we stopped in our labours and looked towards them they disappeared. This made us somewhat anxious, for it was certain that they could not be well-disposed towards white men, or they would have come out and had some communication with us. They must have seen, however, that we were not a party to be trifled with, and that if they meditated attempting to get possession of our property, they would have to pay dearly for it. As we had still three or four hours of daylight, instead of stopping to dine as soon as the rest of our party arrived, we all embarked and continued our course. The river, however, here expanded into almost a lakelike width, and the current was less rapid than usual, while the wind was adverse, and we made much less progress than we expected. We paddled on as long as we could, wishing to find a convenient camping place on the left bank. After all, we were compelled to land on the right bank, on which we had seen the Indians. We had very little fear of them, however, though it compelled us to keep a more careful watch than we should otherwise have done.

As soon as our camp was formed and we had taken a hearty meal, of which we all stood greatly in need, we sent out Swiftfoot and Quick-ear as scouts, to ascertain if any Indians were in the neighbourhood. The night drew on. The rest of the party lay down to rest with their arms by their sides. However, with Ready, I walked round and round the camp, for our scouts were so long absent that I became anxious about their safety. At length, my ear caught the sound of footsteps approaching at a rapid rate. Ready stopped, with his nose out, and then advanced a few steps, but did not bark. By this, I guessed that it was one of our scouts coming back. I was not mistaken; and I had good reason to be thankful that I had sent him out. He told me that he had come upon a large body of Indians seated round their fires and holding a council of war; that, as far as he could understand their dialect, they proposed attacking us when they could catch us unprepared, and seemed very much to regret that they had not done so when we were passing down the rapids in the morning. He gathered, moreover, from their eagerness to attack us forthwith and from some other remarks they made, that the navigation of the river for a considerable distance below where we were was very easy. They appeared to be awaiting the arrival of another party equally numerous as themselves. Swiftfoot expressed his fears that Quick-ear had fallen into the hands of the party, when, after waiting some time, he did not appear at the camp.

At length, I aroused my companions, and told them what I had heard. Trevor proposed fortifying the camp and waiting to receive the enemy. Stalker suggested that we should embark at once and continue our voyage, and that Garoupe and Swiftfoot should wait in the canoe to bring on Quick-ear if he should appear.

“But that will seem like running away from the enemy,” urged Trevor, like a stout John Bull as he was.

“I kalkilate the wisest thing is to do what is most profitable, and I don’t see much profit in stopping to fight a gang of red varmints,” observed Habakkuk.

I agreed with Stalker, and at length Trevor gave way, and we loaded the raft as rapidly as we could lift the goods on board. Garoupe consented to remain for Quick-ear, and we hoped to navigate the raft without his aid.

We embarked with as little noise as possible, and now shoving off, followed Stalker down the stream. I experienced a peculiarly solemn and awful feeling so we glided down that dark unknown stream, with the primeval forest rising up on either side, and still more so when we entered a mountainous region where the rocks towered up some twelve or fifteen hundred feet directly above our heads. We feared from the appearance of the river that we might be approaching some rapid. We accordingly moored the raft to a rock, while Stalker paddled on ahead to explore. After waiting for some time, we heard his voice shouting to us to come on. As we were easting off the rope the sound of a paddle was heard up the stream, and we accordingly kept on. In a short time Swiftfoot came alongside. He had waited under the bank, a little lower down than our camp. Suddenly, loud and fearful shrieks rent the air, and a large body of savages burst into our camp. It was certainly better for us not to have been there, and better for them too, for, although we might have killed a number of them, yet that would have been a poor satisfaction if they had killed one of us. They must have been woefully disappointed when they found that the birds they expected to catch had flown. We had now too much reason to fear that Quick-ear had fallen into the hands of the savages. Poor fellow! we could not go back to his assistance, though I must say I felt ashamed of deserting him without further search.

Morning at last broke, and we were still progressing along a deep, rapid, and clear stream, free from rocks or shallows. We hoped that by this time we had got far beyond the reach of the enemy. As I had looked up at the stars in the clear night, I had, however, observed that the river made several sharp bends, and thus I knew that we had not really made good any great distance through the country. As the sun rose there was a general cry for breakfast, and we accordingly put into a little bay with a small extent of grassy ground—a pleasant nook in the bush. We lit our fires, and breakfasted sumptuously on dried horse-flesh, converted into a capital stew, with the aid of some cloves, garlic, and pepper and salt, by allowing the steaks to simmer over a slow fire after being first briskly boiled in our frying-pans in just enough water to cover the meat. We also had hot dampers and plenty of strong tea, guiltless, however, of milk, which was a luxury we had not indulged in for many a long month.

Though the situation of the spot tempted us to remain some hours, that we might get some animals to stock our larder, yet, lest the hostile Indians should overtake us, we deemed it more prudent to continue our voyage. We had just packed up our cooking things and were stepping on board, when we heard a shout close to us, and the next instant Quick-ear burst through the wood and sprang on board the raft, crying out that the enemy were close upon him. We lost no time, therefore, in shoving off; and, as we were paddling down the river, we saw the spot we had just left filled with savage and yelling warriors. Quick-ear had had a long and desperate run, and it was some time before he could speak. When he recovered, he told us that he had found his way back to the camp just after it had been occupied by the savages, and guessing that we had gone down the river, he set off by an Indian track which he thought would lead to it at some point we were likely to pass. He had got some distance, when he found that the enemy were following, probably with the intention of cutting us off. This made him still further increase his speed. He had been seen by them a mile or two before he reached us, and had to run for his life. Had he been a minute later, he would have missed us altogether.

For several days we went on promisingly, when one day Stalker came paddling back to warn us that we were approaching a fierce rapid. We accordingly urged the raft to the shore, and landing our goods, prepared for a long portage. Still, we proposed attempting to carry down the raft. Stalker, Trevor, and I, in attempting to shoot one of the worst rapids, were very nearly lost. We had just time to spring into the canoes, which were on the top of it, when the raft was dashed to pieces. With considerable difficulty we paddled the canoes through, and had they been of birch-bark instead of dug-outs, they must inevitably have shared the fate of the raft. Had our provisions been on the latter, we might eventually have lost our lives. When, at length, we reached the foot of the rapid, we determined to do what it would have been wise in us had we done at first—that is, built canoes to convey the whole party and our goods. We here found some fine trees for the purpose, and, assisted by our former experience, in the course of a few days we had built two large canoes. As we had no saw, we had to chip our boards to form gunwales to them. Swiftfoot and Quick-ear sewed these on very neatly, so that the capacity of the canoes was very greatly increased. The sides of the two smaller canoes being raised in the same way, and then joined together, were also capable of carrying a considerable cargo.

Our voyage was much longer than we had expected; we ate up nearly all our provisions, expended the greater part of our powder, tobacco, and tea,—the great essentials in the bush,—and wore out our clothes and our patience. At length, however, we reached Fort George, a fort of the Hudson’s Bay Company, where we received that attention and hospitality for which its officers are so justly famed. After quitting Fort St. George we continued the descent of the Frazer to the month of the Quesnelle River, where a town has sprang up. Landing here, and leaving our canoes in store, we prepared to tramp it across country to Richfield, the capital of the Cariboo district. We overtook parties of the wildest set of fellows it has ever been my lot to encounter, people of all nations, and tongues, and colours.

The land in the district of Fort George is admirably adapted for agriculture, as all the European cereals, together with potatoes, turnips, carrots, and other esculent vegetables, arrive at full maturity. The white population consists chiefly of old servants of the Hudson’s Bay Company, and emigrants from the Highlands of Scotland. Indeed, the whole of this “Prairie Region,” as it is called, on account of the immense plains devoid almost of timber, and requiring, in consequence, no outlay for clearing, would no doubt before long be under the plough, if the Home Government would open up roads through the district. Barley and oats ripen even at Fort Norman, at a latitude of 65 degrees.

Chapter Twenty Three.Richfield, the Capital of Cariboo—The Diggings—Habakkuk sets up a Store—Engages Peter for a time—Arrive at Victoria—Lord Milton and Dr Cheadle.The city of Richfield has been built, and furnished, and supplied with provisions and liquors at the expense of a large amount of animal life; for the sides of the road were literally strewed with the bodies and bones of the animals which had died on the way. We put up at an inn where the object seemed to be to give us the worst possible food and accommodation at the greatest possible charge. Already, Richfield boasts of numerous hotels, and stores, and shops of every description, and dwelling-houses of a somewhat rough character. Coin is scarce, but gold is plentiful; so people carry gold dust about in little bags, and weigh out what they require for payment of goods received. I had fancied that gold-digging was rather clean and pleasant work, and that all a man had to do was to walk about for a few hours in the day with a geologist’s hammer to fill his wallet with nuggets. My visit to Cariboo dispelled this notion. There are possibly harder and more dirty employments; but gold-digging is a very dirty and hard one. In the first place, shafts have to be dug forty or fifty feet deep to the lodes, where the pay dirt is found. In galleries leading from these shafts the earth is dug out and put into baskets, which are hoisted out by a windlass and turned into large troughs, through which a stream of water is made to pass, with a succession of sieves, through which the gold dust falls. This is one of the most simple and easy of the processes employed. Water has often to be brought from great distances; deep trenches have to be dug, and the diggers have to work up to their middle in icy-cold water, with their heads exposed to the hot sun, down in deep holes in the beds of streams, or by the sides of streams, day after day, sometimes finding nothing, at other times only enough to enable them to procure food and lodging for the time. Others, again, have been fortunate, and have worked claims from which they have extracted many thousand pounds worth of gold in a few weeks. The latter have been mostly men who have had their wits about them, and who have purchased claims which they had good reason to believe would pay.Such was the case with our friend Habakkuk Gaby. The day after our arrival, we saw him wheeling a barrow about, up and down hill, stocked with a variety of small wares such as he well knew miners would value. Whether he sold or not, he stopped and had a talk with all he met, picking up a little bit of information from one and a little bit from another. His former experience in California enabled him to ask questions likely to procure what he required. For several days he patiently continued at this occupation. At last, one evening, Trevor and I received a visit from him.He told us that he had bought a claim which he guessed would pay; that he had engaged Stalker and the rest of our men for the summer; and asked if I would allow Peter to remain with him, promising to make the lad’s fortune, and to bring him down safely with him to Victoria at the end of the season, in time for him to leave the country with us. As Peter expressed a strong wish to remain and try his fortune at gold-digging, I did not oppose him; indeed, I could manage to do without the lad, and I wished him to employ himself in whatever was most likely to conduce to his success in life. Trevor and I tried our hands at gold-digging for a fortnight, at the end of which time we had had quite enough of it. After paying the owners of the claim the rent agreed on, we pocketed some few pounds apiece; but we were nearly knocked up with the hard work.Before leaving Richfield, we paid a visit to Mr Gaby. We found him in a most flourishing condition. At one end of his claim was a store, of rough materials. On the front was an imposing board with “Gaby and Co.” painted in large letters on it, and underneath, “Everything sold here.” He welcomed us warmly, and pressed us to come in and liquor.“I don’t much like this work,” he said; “but I’ll make it pay while I am at it. We shall meet again before many months are over.”We found Peter serving in the store. He said that he took his turn with another lad at mining, and liked his occupation. His master treated him well. He got two dollars a day and everything found him, so that he did very well.The next day we bade farewell to Cariboo, and tramped it on foot four days to the town of Quesnelle, on the banks of the Frazer. Here we found a steam-boat going down the Frazer to a place called Cedar Creek, where the navigation of the river becomes impracticable for four hundred miles to the town of Tale, from which place to New Westminster and Victoria steamers run constantly up and down the Frazer.By far the most uncomfortable part of our journey was that performed in the stage between Cedar Creek and Yale. Our feet were cribbed, cramped, and confined, and we had just cause to apprehend a capsize over the terrific precipices along which part of the road lay, into the foaming waters of the Frazer.Victoria is already a wonderful place, considering when it had its beginning—full of hotels, large stores, churches, dwelling-houses, and places of amusement, including a theatre, where stars of the first magnitude occasionally shine forth. We travelled all over the province of British Columbia and through Vancouver Island; made a visit to Nassaimo, the Newcastle of the North Pacific, and became more than ever convinced that what is chiefly required to place those colonies among the most flourishing and valuable of the possessions of Great Britain is the opening up of a road and the erection of post-houses along the line of country we had travelled from Lake Superior,viathe Red River settlement and the Fertile Belts.Of course, we gained great credit for the successful accomplishment of our voyage down the Frazer; but I consider that we were far eclipsed by the journey performed by Lord Milton and Dr Cheadle across the Rocky Mountains, by Jasper House and the Bête Jaune Cache down the Thompson and Kamloops. We had the pleasure of meeting at Victoria a very intelligent gentleman, who accompanied them from Edmonton; and from him we learned the particulars of their journey. The party consisted of himself, Lord Milton, Dr Cheadle, and an Indian hunter from the Assiniboine River, with his squaw and their son, a big strong boy. They had also several hones and a fair amount of provisions and stores.“Ah, sir, it was very fortunate for those young men that they had me with them, or they would inevitably have perished. The countess would have had to mourn her son and his friend, the gallant Cheadle,” he observed, as he was introduced to us as the companion of those persevering travellers. “Yes, sir, I say it, fearless of contradiction, had it not been for my courage and perseverance they would never have accomplished the journey. I saw that, when I offered to accompany them; and if they did not know their true interest, I did. Why, that Assiniboine fellow would have murdered them to a certainty, but I kept him in awe by my eye—he was afraid of me, if he did not love me. Lord Milton is brave, but he wants that discretion and judgment which I possess; while Dr Cheadle is really a fine fellow, and would have made a capital backwoodsman. We had good horses; and as I am a judge of horse-flesh, I have a right to say so, and we got on very well till we began to cross the rivers. Some of the streams were fearfully rapid, and it was very evident that my companions were scarcely up to their work. I used, generally, to plunge in with my horse, and, leading the way, call them to follow. This they did, and I was always ready on the top of the banks to help them out. We had frequently to construct rafts, when I invariably set to work to cut down the trees and to carry them to the river’s brink. Sometimes, when I could not carry a log by myself, I had to call on one of them to help me; but I did so only in the last extremity. You see, Lord Milton was a delicately-nurtured young man, and I wished to save him as much as I could. I do not doubt that if he writes a book he will bear witness to the truth of my assertions. The Assiniboine was of a good deal of use, considering that he had only one hand, and his wife and boy were active too; but they could not possibly have got on without me. On one occasion, while I was asleep (or it would not have happened), the forest caught fire. I jumped up, and with a thick stick I always carried, so effectually attacked the flames that I put the fire out and saved the horses and our property.“On another occasion, when all the rest of the party had gone out hunting, and, being disabled, I had remained in charge of the camp, I saw a huge bear approaching. I had no gun; but, sallying out with my stick, I put it to flight, and saved the camp from being plundered, which it would inevitably have been, of our most valuable property.“Our first important raft adventure was in crossing the Canoe River, a tributary of the Columbia. A raft had been constructed. We embarked on it. The current was very strong. I warned my companions. They were deaf to my cautions. I saw that they were not up to navigating a raft. Suddenly, our raft was whirled round in a rapid current, which bore us to seeming destruction. A huge pine tree lay with its branches recumbent on the water. I shouted to my friends to hold on; but it was of no use. Dr Cheadle leaped on shore, followed by the Assiniboine and his boy. I sat firmly at my post; Lord Milton and Mrs Assiniboine hung on to the branch of the tree, like Absolom, only it was with their hands instead of the hair of their heads. To stop the raft was impossible; but to guide it towards the shore was practicable. I sat, therefore, calmly waiting an opportunity of steering my eccentric-moving bark towards a wished-for haven. This, with the assistance, I must own it, of the Assiniboine, I was enabled shortly to do. Lord Milton and Mrs Assiniboine were, meantime, very nearly carried away by the roaring flood. Dr Cheadle and I, at the risk of our lives, hastened to their assistance; and I must do the young nobleman the justice to say that he refused to be helped till we had got the woman out of her perilous position. I look upon that as true gallantry; and I told him that I should consider it a pleasing duty to narrate the circumstance whenever I gave an account of our adventures. However, Dr Cheadle, considering that he was in by far the most dangerous position, got him out at once, and, with the aid of my handkerchief, I helped out the dark-skinned lady.“That was only one of the many fearful dangers we ran. As I before remarked, it was very much owing to my forethought that things were not worse. I used to rouse the young men up every morning, or I do not know how long they would have indulged in their downy slumbers; not that they were very downy, by-the-bye, considering that spruce-fir-tops formed the most luxurious bed we had for many a day. They were also improvident, and had a knack of leaving their things behind them, insomuch that, in spite of all I could do, we had only one small axe left with which to cut our way through a dense forest. We supplied ourselves with a second axe belonging to a dead Indian found in the woods. By-the-bye, my friends were very much puzzled to find that the said dead man had no head, and that it could not have been taken by a human being, as he would have carried off the poor man’s property; or by a wild beast, as it would have upset the body, which was found in a sitting position. It was close to our camp; and the fact was, that I had, not five minutes before, found the body, and lifted the head, which had fallen to the ground, with the end of a stick, and hid it in a bush hard by. Having crossed the mountains and found that we could not push overland to Cariboo, we turned our faces northward, to proceed down the Thompson River to Kamloops.“None of our party were skilful boatmen. I do not myself profess to have any extensive knowledge of navigation; so my young friends would not venture to go down the Frazer in canoes, which, in my opinion, they might have done with ease. They chose to stick to terra-firma, and, in consequence, they very nearly stuck fast. First, they lost one of their horses, laden with numerous valuables—nearly all their tobacco and tea and sugar; and the other poor beasts were so completely knocked up that it was difficult to drive them. Now they went one way, then another; now they tumbled down precipices or got jammed between trunks of trees; then they fell into the river and began swimming away, and the Assiniboine had to plunge in and fish them out. This continued week after week. We were like babes in the wood, lost in that fearful forest, cutting our way through it; often making good three or four miles in the day, our provisions running shorter and shorter, till we were reduced to live one day on a skunk, a creature I thought no human being could have eaten. I own that I could not. Sometimes precipices faced us, and sometimes steep hills, which it took us hours to get round or climb up. At last we had to kill a horse, my little pet Blackie, which, owing to my careful and judicious driving, was in better condition than any other of the lot. The young men had expended nearly all their powder; and, at the best of times, rarely killed more than a few birds in the course of the day. We found horse-flesh tolerably palatable; but, by the time we had begun to eat Blackie, we were not very particular. However, he was only the first horse we ate—we had to kill another before long—and it seemed probable that we should have to eat up our whole stud before we could reach Kamloops. Several times we discussed the question as to whether we should kill all our horses and tramp through on foot, or build rafts and descend the river. I urged my young friends to persevere. They took my advice, with happy results, for, in a short time, we entered an open country, and met some natives, not handsome, but kind-hearted people. They knew of Kamloops; they could guide us there; and did so. We were hospitably received.“Our troubles were over; but I must say that I hope I may never spend another eleven weeks such as we went through since we started on our journey over the mountains. I entertained a different opinion of the Assiniboine to that held by my companions, and I believe that had it not been that I kept my eye on the man he would quietly have murdered us all; but he was afraid of me—that is the fact. He behaved bravely on one occasion, certainly, when he plunged into a river and dragged out our horse, Bucephalus, that, with another, Gisquakarn, had fallen in. The latter was swept away with our stock of tea and tobacco, salt and clothes, and several important documents belonging to me. Had my friends taken my advice, they would have divided these articles among the various animals. Possibly they will do so another time. Lord Milton and Dr Cheadle talked of giving an account of their adventures to the world. If they do, unless their memories altogether fail them, they will corroborate all I have said.”The fine island of which Victoria is the rising capital, with a population of some seven or eight thousand inhabitants, came into possession by the British Oregon treaty, which determined the boundary between British North America and the United States. Vancouver Island is by far the longest on the west coast of America; and the coast-line is broken into fine natural harbours, which will afford protection to ships in all weathers. Coal of excellent quality is found at Nanaimo, and copper and iron ores: the latter, found nowhere else on the North Pacific coast, are plentiful. Fish of the most valuable kinds, including the viviparous species, are abundant; as are also the elk, deer, grouse, snipe, etc, by way of game; and for fur-bearing creatures, the beaver, the racoon, and land-otter, are the chief wild animals. Indeed, considering all its natural advantages, and its vicinity to the gold-fields of British Columbia, Vancouver Island must soon take a prominent place among the colonies of Great Britain.Queen Charlotte Sound, which separates Vancouver Island from the mainland, is scarcely ten miles wide in some places, and the Strait of Juan de Fuca, which waters its shores as well as those of the territory of Washington in the United States, is not more than eighteen miles wide. The island itself is 275 miles long, of an average breadth of 75 miles, containing an area of 16,000 square miles, with a population of 20,000, of which above one-half are Red Indians.

The city of Richfield has been built, and furnished, and supplied with provisions and liquors at the expense of a large amount of animal life; for the sides of the road were literally strewed with the bodies and bones of the animals which had died on the way. We put up at an inn where the object seemed to be to give us the worst possible food and accommodation at the greatest possible charge. Already, Richfield boasts of numerous hotels, and stores, and shops of every description, and dwelling-houses of a somewhat rough character. Coin is scarce, but gold is plentiful; so people carry gold dust about in little bags, and weigh out what they require for payment of goods received. I had fancied that gold-digging was rather clean and pleasant work, and that all a man had to do was to walk about for a few hours in the day with a geologist’s hammer to fill his wallet with nuggets. My visit to Cariboo dispelled this notion. There are possibly harder and more dirty employments; but gold-digging is a very dirty and hard one. In the first place, shafts have to be dug forty or fifty feet deep to the lodes, where the pay dirt is found. In galleries leading from these shafts the earth is dug out and put into baskets, which are hoisted out by a windlass and turned into large troughs, through which a stream of water is made to pass, with a succession of sieves, through which the gold dust falls. This is one of the most simple and easy of the processes employed. Water has often to be brought from great distances; deep trenches have to be dug, and the diggers have to work up to their middle in icy-cold water, with their heads exposed to the hot sun, down in deep holes in the beds of streams, or by the sides of streams, day after day, sometimes finding nothing, at other times only enough to enable them to procure food and lodging for the time. Others, again, have been fortunate, and have worked claims from which they have extracted many thousand pounds worth of gold in a few weeks. The latter have been mostly men who have had their wits about them, and who have purchased claims which they had good reason to believe would pay.

Such was the case with our friend Habakkuk Gaby. The day after our arrival, we saw him wheeling a barrow about, up and down hill, stocked with a variety of small wares such as he well knew miners would value. Whether he sold or not, he stopped and had a talk with all he met, picking up a little bit of information from one and a little bit from another. His former experience in California enabled him to ask questions likely to procure what he required. For several days he patiently continued at this occupation. At last, one evening, Trevor and I received a visit from him.

He told us that he had bought a claim which he guessed would pay; that he had engaged Stalker and the rest of our men for the summer; and asked if I would allow Peter to remain with him, promising to make the lad’s fortune, and to bring him down safely with him to Victoria at the end of the season, in time for him to leave the country with us. As Peter expressed a strong wish to remain and try his fortune at gold-digging, I did not oppose him; indeed, I could manage to do without the lad, and I wished him to employ himself in whatever was most likely to conduce to his success in life. Trevor and I tried our hands at gold-digging for a fortnight, at the end of which time we had had quite enough of it. After paying the owners of the claim the rent agreed on, we pocketed some few pounds apiece; but we were nearly knocked up with the hard work.

Before leaving Richfield, we paid a visit to Mr Gaby. We found him in a most flourishing condition. At one end of his claim was a store, of rough materials. On the front was an imposing board with “Gaby and Co.” painted in large letters on it, and underneath, “Everything sold here.” He welcomed us warmly, and pressed us to come in and liquor.

“I don’t much like this work,” he said; “but I’ll make it pay while I am at it. We shall meet again before many months are over.”

We found Peter serving in the store. He said that he took his turn with another lad at mining, and liked his occupation. His master treated him well. He got two dollars a day and everything found him, so that he did very well.

The next day we bade farewell to Cariboo, and tramped it on foot four days to the town of Quesnelle, on the banks of the Frazer. Here we found a steam-boat going down the Frazer to a place called Cedar Creek, where the navigation of the river becomes impracticable for four hundred miles to the town of Tale, from which place to New Westminster and Victoria steamers run constantly up and down the Frazer.

By far the most uncomfortable part of our journey was that performed in the stage between Cedar Creek and Yale. Our feet were cribbed, cramped, and confined, and we had just cause to apprehend a capsize over the terrific precipices along which part of the road lay, into the foaming waters of the Frazer.

Victoria is already a wonderful place, considering when it had its beginning—full of hotels, large stores, churches, dwelling-houses, and places of amusement, including a theatre, where stars of the first magnitude occasionally shine forth. We travelled all over the province of British Columbia and through Vancouver Island; made a visit to Nassaimo, the Newcastle of the North Pacific, and became more than ever convinced that what is chiefly required to place those colonies among the most flourishing and valuable of the possessions of Great Britain is the opening up of a road and the erection of post-houses along the line of country we had travelled from Lake Superior,viathe Red River settlement and the Fertile Belts.

Of course, we gained great credit for the successful accomplishment of our voyage down the Frazer; but I consider that we were far eclipsed by the journey performed by Lord Milton and Dr Cheadle across the Rocky Mountains, by Jasper House and the Bête Jaune Cache down the Thompson and Kamloops. We had the pleasure of meeting at Victoria a very intelligent gentleman, who accompanied them from Edmonton; and from him we learned the particulars of their journey. The party consisted of himself, Lord Milton, Dr Cheadle, and an Indian hunter from the Assiniboine River, with his squaw and their son, a big strong boy. They had also several hones and a fair amount of provisions and stores.

“Ah, sir, it was very fortunate for those young men that they had me with them, or they would inevitably have perished. The countess would have had to mourn her son and his friend, the gallant Cheadle,” he observed, as he was introduced to us as the companion of those persevering travellers. “Yes, sir, I say it, fearless of contradiction, had it not been for my courage and perseverance they would never have accomplished the journey. I saw that, when I offered to accompany them; and if they did not know their true interest, I did. Why, that Assiniboine fellow would have murdered them to a certainty, but I kept him in awe by my eye—he was afraid of me, if he did not love me. Lord Milton is brave, but he wants that discretion and judgment which I possess; while Dr Cheadle is really a fine fellow, and would have made a capital backwoodsman. We had good horses; and as I am a judge of horse-flesh, I have a right to say so, and we got on very well till we began to cross the rivers. Some of the streams were fearfully rapid, and it was very evident that my companions were scarcely up to their work. I used, generally, to plunge in with my horse, and, leading the way, call them to follow. This they did, and I was always ready on the top of the banks to help them out. We had frequently to construct rafts, when I invariably set to work to cut down the trees and to carry them to the river’s brink. Sometimes, when I could not carry a log by myself, I had to call on one of them to help me; but I did so only in the last extremity. You see, Lord Milton was a delicately-nurtured young man, and I wished to save him as much as I could. I do not doubt that if he writes a book he will bear witness to the truth of my assertions. The Assiniboine was of a good deal of use, considering that he had only one hand, and his wife and boy were active too; but they could not possibly have got on without me. On one occasion, while I was asleep (or it would not have happened), the forest caught fire. I jumped up, and with a thick stick I always carried, so effectually attacked the flames that I put the fire out and saved the horses and our property.

“On another occasion, when all the rest of the party had gone out hunting, and, being disabled, I had remained in charge of the camp, I saw a huge bear approaching. I had no gun; but, sallying out with my stick, I put it to flight, and saved the camp from being plundered, which it would inevitably have been, of our most valuable property.

“Our first important raft adventure was in crossing the Canoe River, a tributary of the Columbia. A raft had been constructed. We embarked on it. The current was very strong. I warned my companions. They were deaf to my cautions. I saw that they were not up to navigating a raft. Suddenly, our raft was whirled round in a rapid current, which bore us to seeming destruction. A huge pine tree lay with its branches recumbent on the water. I shouted to my friends to hold on; but it was of no use. Dr Cheadle leaped on shore, followed by the Assiniboine and his boy. I sat firmly at my post; Lord Milton and Mrs Assiniboine hung on to the branch of the tree, like Absolom, only it was with their hands instead of the hair of their heads. To stop the raft was impossible; but to guide it towards the shore was practicable. I sat, therefore, calmly waiting an opportunity of steering my eccentric-moving bark towards a wished-for haven. This, with the assistance, I must own it, of the Assiniboine, I was enabled shortly to do. Lord Milton and Mrs Assiniboine were, meantime, very nearly carried away by the roaring flood. Dr Cheadle and I, at the risk of our lives, hastened to their assistance; and I must do the young nobleman the justice to say that he refused to be helped till we had got the woman out of her perilous position. I look upon that as true gallantry; and I told him that I should consider it a pleasing duty to narrate the circumstance whenever I gave an account of our adventures. However, Dr Cheadle, considering that he was in by far the most dangerous position, got him out at once, and, with the aid of my handkerchief, I helped out the dark-skinned lady.

“That was only one of the many fearful dangers we ran. As I before remarked, it was very much owing to my forethought that things were not worse. I used to rouse the young men up every morning, or I do not know how long they would have indulged in their downy slumbers; not that they were very downy, by-the-bye, considering that spruce-fir-tops formed the most luxurious bed we had for many a day. They were also improvident, and had a knack of leaving their things behind them, insomuch that, in spite of all I could do, we had only one small axe left with which to cut our way through a dense forest. We supplied ourselves with a second axe belonging to a dead Indian found in the woods. By-the-bye, my friends were very much puzzled to find that the said dead man had no head, and that it could not have been taken by a human being, as he would have carried off the poor man’s property; or by a wild beast, as it would have upset the body, which was found in a sitting position. It was close to our camp; and the fact was, that I had, not five minutes before, found the body, and lifted the head, which had fallen to the ground, with the end of a stick, and hid it in a bush hard by. Having crossed the mountains and found that we could not push overland to Cariboo, we turned our faces northward, to proceed down the Thompson River to Kamloops.

“None of our party were skilful boatmen. I do not myself profess to have any extensive knowledge of navigation; so my young friends would not venture to go down the Frazer in canoes, which, in my opinion, they might have done with ease. They chose to stick to terra-firma, and, in consequence, they very nearly stuck fast. First, they lost one of their horses, laden with numerous valuables—nearly all their tobacco and tea and sugar; and the other poor beasts were so completely knocked up that it was difficult to drive them. Now they went one way, then another; now they tumbled down precipices or got jammed between trunks of trees; then they fell into the river and began swimming away, and the Assiniboine had to plunge in and fish them out. This continued week after week. We were like babes in the wood, lost in that fearful forest, cutting our way through it; often making good three or four miles in the day, our provisions running shorter and shorter, till we were reduced to live one day on a skunk, a creature I thought no human being could have eaten. I own that I could not. Sometimes precipices faced us, and sometimes steep hills, which it took us hours to get round or climb up. At last we had to kill a horse, my little pet Blackie, which, owing to my careful and judicious driving, was in better condition than any other of the lot. The young men had expended nearly all their powder; and, at the best of times, rarely killed more than a few birds in the course of the day. We found horse-flesh tolerably palatable; but, by the time we had begun to eat Blackie, we were not very particular. However, he was only the first horse we ate—we had to kill another before long—and it seemed probable that we should have to eat up our whole stud before we could reach Kamloops. Several times we discussed the question as to whether we should kill all our horses and tramp through on foot, or build rafts and descend the river. I urged my young friends to persevere. They took my advice, with happy results, for, in a short time, we entered an open country, and met some natives, not handsome, but kind-hearted people. They knew of Kamloops; they could guide us there; and did so. We were hospitably received.

“Our troubles were over; but I must say that I hope I may never spend another eleven weeks such as we went through since we started on our journey over the mountains. I entertained a different opinion of the Assiniboine to that held by my companions, and I believe that had it not been that I kept my eye on the man he would quietly have murdered us all; but he was afraid of me—that is the fact. He behaved bravely on one occasion, certainly, when he plunged into a river and dragged out our horse, Bucephalus, that, with another, Gisquakarn, had fallen in. The latter was swept away with our stock of tea and tobacco, salt and clothes, and several important documents belonging to me. Had my friends taken my advice, they would have divided these articles among the various animals. Possibly they will do so another time. Lord Milton and Dr Cheadle talked of giving an account of their adventures to the world. If they do, unless their memories altogether fail them, they will corroborate all I have said.”

The fine island of which Victoria is the rising capital, with a population of some seven or eight thousand inhabitants, came into possession by the British Oregon treaty, which determined the boundary between British North America and the United States. Vancouver Island is by far the longest on the west coast of America; and the coast-line is broken into fine natural harbours, which will afford protection to ships in all weathers. Coal of excellent quality is found at Nanaimo, and copper and iron ores: the latter, found nowhere else on the North Pacific coast, are plentiful. Fish of the most valuable kinds, including the viviparous species, are abundant; as are also the elk, deer, grouse, snipe, etc, by way of game; and for fur-bearing creatures, the beaver, the racoon, and land-otter, are the chief wild animals. Indeed, considering all its natural advantages, and its vicinity to the gold-fields of British Columbia, Vancouver Island must soon take a prominent place among the colonies of Great Britain.

Queen Charlotte Sound, which separates Vancouver Island from the mainland, is scarcely ten miles wide in some places, and the Strait of Juan de Fuca, which waters its shores as well as those of the territory of Washington in the United States, is not more than eighteen miles wide. The island itself is 275 miles long, of an average breadth of 75 miles, containing an area of 16,000 square miles, with a population of 20,000, of which above one-half are Red Indians.

Chapter Twenty Four.Voyage to San Francisco—The City and Diggings—We book our passage for Honolulu—Marcus warns me of Danger, and the idea is abandoned—We return to England via New York—Marcus sails for Liberia, and we spend Christmas with Aunt Becky.I scarcely know why, but all of a sudden Trevor seized with a strong desire to visit San Francisco; and as there is steam communication between that city and Victoria, there was no difficulty in the way to prevent its being gratified. We had fixed the day for leaving Victoria, and were expecting Peter’s return to my service, when Mr Habakkuk Gaby walked into the room. He was wonderfully improved for the better since we parted at Cariboo, as far as dress was concerned; indeed, his costume was an indication of his very flourishing condition. “Well, I’ve brought back Peter to you; and I kalkilate the lad’s worth a hundred good dollars more than he was when you left him with me,” he observed, after the usual salutations were over.I hoped that he had been successful in his speculations.“Yas, I guess I have,” he answered, with a knowing wink; “I’ve had, too, enough of gold-digging, and I’m thinking of offering my services to the governor of one of these states as private secretary, or colonial secretary—I’m in no ways particular,—just to help him to put things to rights. I know how they ought to be—and that’s not as they now are. If my offers are not accepted I shall go on to Californy and see what’s to be done there; but I guess there are too many full-blooded Yankees there for the place to suit me.”Mr Gaby, finding that the Governor of Victoria did not place the same estimate on his talents that he himself entertained, quitted the province in disgust, and was one of our fellow-passengers to San Francisco, the Queen of the Pacific, of which it is enough to say that the harbour is a magnificent one, as soon as the Golden Gate—the name given to the mouth of the river—is passed; and that the city is huge, composed of buildings of all sizes, from the imposing stone or brick edifice to the humble shanty. The hotels are numerous, and the jewellers’ shops, especially, are as handsome as any in London or Paris, while the population is truly composed of the natives of all countries in the world. We visited Sacramento and the diggings. The gold at the latter is chiefly obtained by crushing quartz; and numerous companies, with powerful machinery, are engaged in the business.Cortez discovered California in 1537; yet, acclimatised as the Spaniards then were to the heat of the tropics, so oppressive did he find the climate, that he named the country,Caliente Fornalla, “the fiery furnace.” The Spaniards made no attempt to search for its mineral wealth; and till the middle of the last century, when California belonged to Mexico, and rumours reached Europe of its auriferous soil, its gold-fields were looked upon as fabulous. Some efforts were then made to discover the hidden treasure, but they all proved abortive, and the pearl fishery was looked upon as the only valuable product of “a sterile land of rocks and stunted bushes,” as it is described in the earliest account of any value of the country and its inhabitants, the latter then “but a step above the brute creation.” This account was written in German, by a Jesuit, after his return to his native country upon the suppression of his order by Pope Ganganelli, in July, 1773, and is full of curious information.Still, the tradition of its yielding gold was never obliterated; but it was not till September, 1847, after its cession to the United States, that gold in any considerable quantity was discovered in California. The pioneers were a Captain Sutter and a Mr Marshall, two free settlers, who at first attempted to keep the discovery a secret. It is between that period and the year 1850 that the following sketch of “Dangers of the Diggings” must be placed, after which it became a sovereign State of the American Confederation, though murders and Lynch law prevailed even up to 1860.I give the story in the words of Habakkuk Gaby—half trapper and half gold-digger, as we have seen him to be—as it is worth preserving, as a curious evidence of the rapid rise of San Francisco in the course of less than a dozen years from a state of almost perfect anarchy to such a height of civilisation and luxury as already to be regarded by many as all but the second city in the United States.“Well, Master Trevor,” began Habakkuk one evening, as we were seated together, comfortably discussing our wine and cigars, “I’m no way partikler, but thereisa place I’ve no wish to go to, though I guess that it ain’t hotter nor worse than Californy was when I first got to it. Ay, long before I got there, I guessed what was to follow; for a full day’s journey along the whole road was like a broker’s shop—only the goods were all smashed and had nobody to look after them. First, there were pianoes, fiddles, guitars, and other gimcracks. Then, chests of drawers, bedsteads, and boxes. Next, women’s fine clothes, bless them! and then bedding, pillows, and blankets. The useless first; then, step by step, one little comfort after ’tother. Then, sadder still, tents and cooking apparatus, skeletons of horses and oxen, broken-down waggons. Now and then, a grave; but, saddest of all, casks of biscuit and crackers, of flour and preserved meats, and whitened human bones!“On, on! No time to bury the dead! Water, water! None to be had—not enough to cover the finger’s tip to cool the parched tongue! Whole families sank by the roadside and died of thirst. Perhaps one survived. It may be the father, whose thirst for gold had broken up a quiet home,—and all for greed had brought a fond wife and mother to perish on these arid plains—every vestige of vegetation dried up by the scorching sun—after seeing her little ones, one by one, droop and die away. Terrible such a fate! Welcome death! But death, in mockery, spares the thirsting wretch till madness supervenes, and suicide or murder ends what greed for gold began.“No, Master Skipwith; ’tis only young and hale men, with no tie on earth to bind them, that should seek the diggings. Broken of heart, careless of the world, I’ve seen others who have left behind all they loved and were worth living for on the track to the gold-fields, labouring like machines, never smiling, seldom speaking, scarcely knowing why they thus toiled and laboured; now, all they had once loved on earth had gone. We could tell the nature of the country by the sorts of articles left on the road. Still worse, if anything, were the scenes which took place at the diggings. Rheumatism and fever brought many to the grave. The poor wretches lay in their tents or lean-tos, with no one to attend them—no one to speak to them—till death put an end to their sufferings, or sometimes madness seized them, and they would rush out attacking all they met, till they sank exhausted, or till they were knocked over by some of their companions, as if they had been wild beasts. Not content with having sickness for their foe, the diggers quarrelled among themselves. One party had diverted a stream from the claim of another. The latter demanded compensation, which was refused, on which they attacked the aggressors, killed several, and wounded many others. I guess gold-hunting, in those days, was not the pleasantest of occupations,” remarked Habakkuk, in conclusion.“The Ingins, too, was troublesome in these parts, I’ve heard say,” observed Stalker.“I guess they was,” answered Mr Gaby. “Can’t say, however, but what our people—that is, the whites—often brought it on themselves by shooting a red man without provocation; making them work against their will, beating them when they wouldn’t, and carrying off their squaws. Flesh and blood, whether it’s red or black, or white, don’t like that sort of treatment.“One morning, two men were found speared in one of the out-huts of the camp, and everything in it carried off. Though we didn’t know much of the men, who they were or where they’d come from, they were whites, and that made the diggers very exasperated with the murderers. An expedition was at once organised to follow and punish the Red-men. We had no lack of leaders. Two or three men who had spent all their lives on the prairies or in the backwoods, and were well accustomed to cope with Indians, and knew all their tricks and cunning ways, offered their services. One fine old fellow was chosen—a Scotchman, called Donald McDonald. I guess that in his country there are a good many of the same name, but I don’t think many like him. He had lived all his life in these ports; and what made him come to Californy I don’t know, except the love of adventure, for he had plenty of money. He stood six feet four in his stockings, with a head of hair of a bright carrot-red, which hung down all over his shoulders—a beard and moustache to match. His brow, full of wrinkles, alone showed his age; for his eyes were bright and piercing, and his step as elastic as that of a young man. So as you seem pretty quiet with regard to the Ingins in these parts, I’ll just tell you how they manage things in the south, where, somehow or other, the whites are pretty nearly always at war with them. We assembled at the hut of the murdered men, that we might take our departure from it. There were numbers of footprints about the hut, but there had been no struggle near it. The men had been surprised by the crafty Ingins while they were asleep, run through with spears, and afterwards stabbed. Everything in the hut had been carried off by the murderers, who took no pains to conceal their numbers, or the direction in which they had gone. There was a considerable number of them, and their track led towards the most mountainous and intricate path of the country, with numerous streams intervening. ‘The varmints think by coming this way to baffle us; but we’ll soon let them know that a keen pair of eyes is following which has been accustomed for forty years or more to ferret them out, in spite of all their dodges,’ remarked Donald. It was well for those who had to accompany the old man to have a fast pair of legs.“We kept on at a rapid rate the greater part of the day, the footmarks becoming more and more indistinct, from the nature of the ground, till we arrived at a mountain stream. As the traces were now totally lost, loud murmurs rose among our party.“‘The savages have done us—depend on that,’ cried several of them.“‘I ken they must be very clever savages, then,’ observed Donald, not a little offended at the imputation thrown on his sagacity.“Donald continued walking up and down the stream for some time, carefully looking out for marks on the opposite side, for he well knew that the Indians must here have entered the stream and gone up or down some distance and then landed. No long time had passed before he shouted to us to follow him, and crossing the stream we came upon a track which looked at first as if only one person had passed, but on further examination we perceived that the varmint had formed in Indian file and trod in each other’s footsteps. We followed for some little distance, when the Ingins, little dreaming what sort of men would be after them, and despising the White Faces’ knowledge of their customs, broke off again, and walked along in a body, taking no pains to conceal their movements. They even dropped some of the flour which they were carrying off, and did not stop to hide the particles left on the ground. It was now getting dark, so we had to camp in a hollow, where we could light our fires without the danger of being seen by the Redskins, taking care, however, to prevent them from blazing up.“As soon as we had camped, Donald went back to the river and quickly returned with a fat buck he had killed, and which he had watched for as it went to the stream to drink. We couldn’t sleep much for talking of the fight to come off next day, and for all the brave things we were going to do. By daybreak next morning we were on foot and closely following the trail of our enemies. In three or four hours we reached the place where they had camped, and Donald told us that the varmints had had a good supper on venison, and cakes made of the flour they had stolen, and that there were about five-and-twenty warriors, all well-armed with bows and arrows, and spears, and axes. We now pushed on more rapidly than ever, eager to be up with them. They were also marching quickly to get back to their camp, where they had left their squaws and papooses. Our route lay over mountains and across valleys, with grand scenery on every side. Each mountain we climbed the footprints of the Ingins became more and more distinct, till it was clear that we were rapidly getting up with them. McDonald, like a good general, now sent out scouts to prevent our being taken by surprise. We were told to hold our tongues and to look to our arms. At length we reached the summit of a lofty ridge, below which lay a broad valley.“‘They are there,’ whispered McDonald; ‘and if you all keep silence, obey my orders, and behave like true men, we shall bag a round dozen of them.’“These Californian chaps were no way particular how they treated the Redskins. Going on a little further, we saw, far down below us in the valley, a few wreaths of smoke curling up into the blue sky. They came from the fires of the Ingins. The order was now given to form in single file. Silently and cautiously we proceeded towards the encampment. The slightest noise or want of care would alarm our enemies, and perhaps bring destruction on our own heads. I guess it weren’t quite pleasant altogether, for if they had found us out, the tables might have been turned, and they would have killed us instead of our killing them.“We crept on till we got to a low ridge, when, peering through the thick bushes, we saw, about four hundred yards off, a large body of Ingins encamped, some forty men or more, and twenty or thirty women. One old man, who seemed by his dress and position to be a chief, sat against a tree with a group of warriors collected round him, evidently giving an account of their adventures. The latter were in their war-paint, with feathers of different colours stuck in their hair, which was tied up in knots behind. They were as wild and fierce a set of fellows as I ever set eyes on. Yet Donald afterwards said that they were as arrant a set of cowards as are to be met with; but he certainly seemed to hold the Redskins at a cheap rate. Slowly we crept closer and closer. Fortunately the Ingins were so engaged with their speeches and boasting of their brave deeds in murdering two unhappy men in their sleep, that their usually quick ears did not hear us. At a most critical moment, however, one of our party kicked his foot against a loose stone, which rolled down the bank. Some of the Redskins started and looked up, but they were so engaged in their occupations, some in speech-making, and others in cooking, that, seeing nothing to alarm them, so thick were the bushes, they took no notice of what had occurred. We spread out in a line so as almost to surround them, and then crouching down, waited till all the party were collected together round their evening meal. At a signal from McDonald we were to commence operations. We waited for it in breathless suspense. With a startling effect our first volley sounded through the calm evening air. The Ingin warriors sprang to their feet; it was only to afford us a surer mark. On we sprang, and when within thirty yards, fired point-blank at the poor wretches. Five fell where they stood, shot through the head, several more staggered on mortally wounded; the rest, uttering fearful yells, took to flight. When the smoke cleared off, we discovered that they had halted to see who were their assailants.“‘On, on, boys!’ shouted Donald, discharging his pistol at the Redskin nearest to him and bringing him to the ground. Then flourishing his formidable axe, he dashed on after the flying wretches.“Those who had been the worst wounded made their way to a stream, where, in spite of our approach, their faithful squaws joined them, and began to bathe their wounds in the cool water. They knew that, however bad a wound, if the inflammation can be kept down, a man’s life may be saved. Many a poor fellow has died on the battle-field for want of cold water. ‘Let none of you hurt the women,’ shouted Donald, who, rough as he looked, was humane and kind-hearted in his way, as well as brave. Some of our fellows were, however, no better than savages themselves. Before Donald could interfere they had brained four of the wounded men. One of the women tried to save her husband, but two of our party killing the man, hurled her with him into the stream. One of the Redskins, who, badly wounded, was trying to escape, dropped as if he had suddenly fallen dead. His pursuer was about to knock out his brains, when the Ingin sprang to his feet, and tried to seize the gun from his assailant’s hands. He would have succeeded had not one of our party come up with a loaded pistol and shot the Redskin through the head. Donald insisted that the poor women who had so bravely remained by their husbands should be allowed to stay by them near the stream, greatly to the disappointment of some of the Californians, who wanted to kill all they could reach. Having collected all the articles which had been taken from the hut, including the flour, and as much venison as we could carry, we beat a retreat up the hills again. There was little fear of the party we had dispersed attacking us, but they would very likely collect their allies, and if we remained where we were, come down on us in overwhelming numbers. All the tribes in those parts have horses—mustangs they call them—so that they would have had no difficulty in collecting a large body of warriors in a short time, who, if they did not destroy us, would greatly harass us in our marches. Darkness compelled us to camp, and you may be sure we kept a sharp look-out all night, but the varmints had had enough of us, and allowed it to pass quietly.“The Ingins followed us, however, the next day, though we took a different route to avoid them; but they soon found that we were led by a leader who knew what he was about, and that they were likely to come off second best if they attacked us. We got back safe to the diggings, and I was not sorry either. I am a man of peace, and I don’t like fighting of any sort, much less such murderous work as we had been engaged in—such as shooting a dozen of our fellow-creatures at their supper. Those Ingin murderers deserved punishment; there’s no doubt about that; but I did not fancy punishing them in that way.”Habakkuk gave us several other anecdotes which he had heard of the redoubtable Scot, Donald McDonald. Among others I remember one which amused us greatly.“Mr McDonald was very thick with the Redskins at all times, for he had a dark-red wife, and some light-red children, of whom he was very fond, and spent much of his time in the lodges of his wife’s relations. Gambling was then, of course, one of their principal amusements, especially when visitors came in. One day an old chief, Slabface, went into his father-in-law’s lodge, when he, with Donald and others, were soon engaged in gambling. Donald suddenly detected some trick or other, and rushing out into the open air, seizing his gun as he went, declared that he would play no more, and would be revenged on the rascal who had cheated him. Slabface followed, and asked him what he wanted. ‘Satisfaction,’ shouted Donald. ‘You are a cheat, a rogue, and a liar, and you must fight me.’“‘All in good time; but you are reputed to be a brave chief, and chiefs should not put themselves into a passion,’ answered Slabface, quite coolly.“‘I want none of your talk. I say again that you are a cheat and a liar!’ exclaimed Donald, getting more and more angry. ‘Will you fight me like a man, I ask?’“‘A wise man wouldn’t get into so great a passion about so small a thing,’ said the Redskin, doing his utmost to exasperate Donald. ‘If you wish it I’ll fight to please you, though I think your proposal a foolish one. We will go into the wood and settle the matter.’“‘Into the wood!’ shouted Donald. ‘By no means. Here as we stand, face to face, like men. Shall we fire together, or shall we draw for the first shot?’“‘Why, now, indeed, I find that you are a far greater idiot than I supposed,’ exclaimed Slabface, in a tone of scorn. ‘Would any but a fool let his enemy point the muzzle of his gun at him, if he could help it? The Red-men are too wise to do such a thing. It is only foolish Pale Faces that fight thus.’“‘Why how, in the name of sense, do you want to fight?’ exclaimed Donald. ‘I am inviting you to fight in the way all gentlemen fight in Scotland.’“‘That shows that the gentlemen are fools,’ answered Slabface. ‘We will fight as all Indian warriors fight. We will go into the wood out there with our guns. You shall get behind one tree, and I will get behind another, and we will fire at each other as we can.’“‘You are a coward, and afraid!’ cried Donald, turning on his heel.“‘I am not afraid, but I choose that way of fighting,’ answered the chief, in the same calm tone as at first.“‘Well, then, you shall have your own way,’ exclaimed Donald, who would not have yielded in any other matter of far less importance.“Slabface, who was a good shot, would too probably have killed our friend, had not a party of us, hearing what was taking place, hurried up and contrived to soothe his anger. Still, to make things sure, we carried off both his arms and those of Slabface.”Our friend Habakkuk’s account gave us a pretty correct idea of the state of affairs in the early days of the Californian diggings. Matters improved in Australia, though they were bad enough there at first, and I am glad to say that they were conducted still better at Cariboo, and the other diggings of British Columbia.Trevor and I had soon seen enough of the Golden City and its motley society; the chief of which, a mere money aristocracy, was not at all to our taste. There is a considerable amount of trade between San Francisco and the Sandwich Islands, to which the diggers also often resort to recruit their health. Trevor, who had met Queen Emma at his High Church cousin’s rectory, near Portsmouth, a year ago, was so enthusiastic in her praise, that we determined to return to England by the Panama route, spending some days at Honolulu on our way, and joining the steamer from New Zealand at Tahiti, which is in the direct line to Panama. We accordingly engaged a passage on board a brig, theBanana, bound on a trading voyage to those islands. As I was leaving the office of the agent to whom theBananawas consigned, I found a party of seamen lounging about in front of the door, as seamen of all nations are accustomed to do. These were a curiously mixed set; not only of all nations, but of all colours and tints. There were scarcely two alike. Among them were several negroes. I saw one of them, a fine sailor-like looking fellow, start as he saw me. I looked again, and had little doubt that the man I saw before me was the runaway slave, Marcus. Yet, though he eyed me as some of his companions were doing, not by another glance or sign did he seem to recognise me. He cast also the same indifferent look at Peter and Ready. I stopped for a moment for Trevor, who wished to obtain some additional information about the brig, so that I had time to examine the countenance of the black more narrowly. Every feature was that of the countenance of Marcus. So convinced was I of this, that I was on the point of going up to speak to him, when I reflected that he might possibly have some good reason for not recognising me, as it was not likely that he should have forgotten me and Peter, or the dog.As I walked on slowly, after Trevor rejoined me, I looked back and saw the black enter the ship-agent’s office. Again, looking back after some time, I saw him following us at a distance, and evidently wishing that it should not be seen that he was doing so. He watched us into our hotel and then disappeared. Some stars of the first magnitude were performing at the opera-house, and we went to hear them. On our return home, as we had nearly reached our hotel and were passing a dark archway, I felt my arm seized, and a voice whispered, “Stop!” I thought that I was about to be robbed, and expected to have a knife stuck into me—so did Trevor—when the voice said:“I am a friend. Listen. You do not know me; but I know you, and remember that I owe you a deep debt of gratitude never fully to be repaid. I am Marcus—once a slave. I must be brief. You are about to sail in theBanana. A number of rich miners, and others, whose health requires recruiting, are about to proceed in her to the Sandwich Islands. She has also, it is well-known, a rich freight. She has been marked for destruction. A band of desperate men on board a fast vessel purpose following her. Two of them will be sent to ship on board as part of the crew, so that she has not a chance of escape. Take my advice; do not go by her; sacrifice your passage money. Any loss will be better than venturing to sea in that craft. Farewell, Mr Skipwith. I must not detain you, nor must I stay longer here. I owe you much; I am thankful that I have had again an opportunity of serving you. I have run a great risk to do so, and would willingly run a greater. We may never meet again; but believe that I earnestly desire your safety. I will not say I pray for it, for such a wretch as I am cannot pray. If I could, my prayers would turn to curses. Farewell, farewell!”The last words were said in a tone of deep feeling. Even before I could answer, he had disappeared. I said nothing to Trevor before we got to our hotel. I then told him all I had heard, describing how I had met Marcus, and the opinion I had formed of him.Trevor looked serious for a few moments, and then he said—“I must see Marcus myself. Though I do not know him personally, what you have just told me, and what Dick wrote about this man, interests me much, and if he is in trouble again, which I fear he must be, from the stealthy way in which he dodged you, let us try to get him out of it. Black skin or white skin, what does it matter? At bottom he is a noble fellow, and if you see nothing to object to the plan, he shall return with us to Old England; and when there, between us, we can manage to do something for him.”Of course, I could have no objection, so Trevor set off in search of the fugitive. San Francisco is not the pleasantest place in the world for such a search. There are a good many persons there who have been driven by their crimes out of society at home, and whose reckless way of living at the diggings casts a suspicion upon them, so that folks generally avoid that quarter of the city where they usually congregate, and where I had met Marcus but a few hours before.I had been left to myself for more than three hours, and it was already getting dark, yet Trevor did not return. I therefore determined to go in search of him. I had just turned the corner of the street in which was the dark arch from which Marcus had emerged, when I saw Trevor and the black approaching. Jack had succeeded in drawing Marcus away from a lawless set of rascals, who were pirates of the worst class, by whom the latter had recently been captured, and had had his life spared upon taking the usual oath to join the crew of his captors. He was closely watched by them, so that Trevor could not get near him till the shades of evening had fairly set in.Jack and Marcus were not long in bringing me to their way of thinking, that overland would be our safer way of reaching England; so we determined to lose our passage money, and on Marcus’s account more particularly, to take the easiest and quickest route to New York. Peter would not leave me, and is still a member of my household, dealing often in the marvellous, and frightening the maids in the kitchen with his narratives of shipwreck and crocodiles, of pirates and savages, and of blood and murder.With our quitting San Francisco our perils and adventures came to an end, and we reached Liverpool in time to see Marcus on his way to Liberia, with letters of recommendation, before accepting dear Aunt Becky’s invitation to spend Christmas at Merton Lodge, and to spread out before her the trophies I had promised at starting, among which her drawing-room exhibits, by way of hearth-rugs, two panther skins, and, in large glazed cases, a lot of stuffed birds and reptiles, including a rattlesnake and a boa-constrictor.I need not say that Ready is a great favourite with all the household, and that with true canine sagacity he knows how to make the most of his popularity. He seems to imply by his manner that the stuffed trophies would scarcely have been where they are but for him, and his bright eyes express as plainly as tongue can doQuorum pars magna fui, whenever Trevor and I have to narrate, for dear aunt’s repeated gratification, how the living creatures themselves were captured and where they ran wild.The End.

I scarcely know why, but all of a sudden Trevor seized with a strong desire to visit San Francisco; and as there is steam communication between that city and Victoria, there was no difficulty in the way to prevent its being gratified. We had fixed the day for leaving Victoria, and were expecting Peter’s return to my service, when Mr Habakkuk Gaby walked into the room. He was wonderfully improved for the better since we parted at Cariboo, as far as dress was concerned; indeed, his costume was an indication of his very flourishing condition. “Well, I’ve brought back Peter to you; and I kalkilate the lad’s worth a hundred good dollars more than he was when you left him with me,” he observed, after the usual salutations were over.

I hoped that he had been successful in his speculations.

“Yas, I guess I have,” he answered, with a knowing wink; “I’ve had, too, enough of gold-digging, and I’m thinking of offering my services to the governor of one of these states as private secretary, or colonial secretary—I’m in no ways particular,—just to help him to put things to rights. I know how they ought to be—and that’s not as they now are. If my offers are not accepted I shall go on to Californy and see what’s to be done there; but I guess there are too many full-blooded Yankees there for the place to suit me.”

Mr Gaby, finding that the Governor of Victoria did not place the same estimate on his talents that he himself entertained, quitted the province in disgust, and was one of our fellow-passengers to San Francisco, the Queen of the Pacific, of which it is enough to say that the harbour is a magnificent one, as soon as the Golden Gate—the name given to the mouth of the river—is passed; and that the city is huge, composed of buildings of all sizes, from the imposing stone or brick edifice to the humble shanty. The hotels are numerous, and the jewellers’ shops, especially, are as handsome as any in London or Paris, while the population is truly composed of the natives of all countries in the world. We visited Sacramento and the diggings. The gold at the latter is chiefly obtained by crushing quartz; and numerous companies, with powerful machinery, are engaged in the business.

Cortez discovered California in 1537; yet, acclimatised as the Spaniards then were to the heat of the tropics, so oppressive did he find the climate, that he named the country,Caliente Fornalla, “the fiery furnace.” The Spaniards made no attempt to search for its mineral wealth; and till the middle of the last century, when California belonged to Mexico, and rumours reached Europe of its auriferous soil, its gold-fields were looked upon as fabulous. Some efforts were then made to discover the hidden treasure, but they all proved abortive, and the pearl fishery was looked upon as the only valuable product of “a sterile land of rocks and stunted bushes,” as it is described in the earliest account of any value of the country and its inhabitants, the latter then “but a step above the brute creation.” This account was written in German, by a Jesuit, after his return to his native country upon the suppression of his order by Pope Ganganelli, in July, 1773, and is full of curious information.

Still, the tradition of its yielding gold was never obliterated; but it was not till September, 1847, after its cession to the United States, that gold in any considerable quantity was discovered in California. The pioneers were a Captain Sutter and a Mr Marshall, two free settlers, who at first attempted to keep the discovery a secret. It is between that period and the year 1850 that the following sketch of “Dangers of the Diggings” must be placed, after which it became a sovereign State of the American Confederation, though murders and Lynch law prevailed even up to 1860.

I give the story in the words of Habakkuk Gaby—half trapper and half gold-digger, as we have seen him to be—as it is worth preserving, as a curious evidence of the rapid rise of San Francisco in the course of less than a dozen years from a state of almost perfect anarchy to such a height of civilisation and luxury as already to be regarded by many as all but the second city in the United States.

“Well, Master Trevor,” began Habakkuk one evening, as we were seated together, comfortably discussing our wine and cigars, “I’m no way partikler, but thereisa place I’ve no wish to go to, though I guess that it ain’t hotter nor worse than Californy was when I first got to it. Ay, long before I got there, I guessed what was to follow; for a full day’s journey along the whole road was like a broker’s shop—only the goods were all smashed and had nobody to look after them. First, there were pianoes, fiddles, guitars, and other gimcracks. Then, chests of drawers, bedsteads, and boxes. Next, women’s fine clothes, bless them! and then bedding, pillows, and blankets. The useless first; then, step by step, one little comfort after ’tother. Then, sadder still, tents and cooking apparatus, skeletons of horses and oxen, broken-down waggons. Now and then, a grave; but, saddest of all, casks of biscuit and crackers, of flour and preserved meats, and whitened human bones!

“On, on! No time to bury the dead! Water, water! None to be had—not enough to cover the finger’s tip to cool the parched tongue! Whole families sank by the roadside and died of thirst. Perhaps one survived. It may be the father, whose thirst for gold had broken up a quiet home,—and all for greed had brought a fond wife and mother to perish on these arid plains—every vestige of vegetation dried up by the scorching sun—after seeing her little ones, one by one, droop and die away. Terrible such a fate! Welcome death! But death, in mockery, spares the thirsting wretch till madness supervenes, and suicide or murder ends what greed for gold began.

“No, Master Skipwith; ’tis only young and hale men, with no tie on earth to bind them, that should seek the diggings. Broken of heart, careless of the world, I’ve seen others who have left behind all they loved and were worth living for on the track to the gold-fields, labouring like machines, never smiling, seldom speaking, scarcely knowing why they thus toiled and laboured; now, all they had once loved on earth had gone. We could tell the nature of the country by the sorts of articles left on the road. Still worse, if anything, were the scenes which took place at the diggings. Rheumatism and fever brought many to the grave. The poor wretches lay in their tents or lean-tos, with no one to attend them—no one to speak to them—till death put an end to their sufferings, or sometimes madness seized them, and they would rush out attacking all they met, till they sank exhausted, or till they were knocked over by some of their companions, as if they had been wild beasts. Not content with having sickness for their foe, the diggers quarrelled among themselves. One party had diverted a stream from the claim of another. The latter demanded compensation, which was refused, on which they attacked the aggressors, killed several, and wounded many others. I guess gold-hunting, in those days, was not the pleasantest of occupations,” remarked Habakkuk, in conclusion.

“The Ingins, too, was troublesome in these parts, I’ve heard say,” observed Stalker.

“I guess they was,” answered Mr Gaby. “Can’t say, however, but what our people—that is, the whites—often brought it on themselves by shooting a red man without provocation; making them work against their will, beating them when they wouldn’t, and carrying off their squaws. Flesh and blood, whether it’s red or black, or white, don’t like that sort of treatment.

“One morning, two men were found speared in one of the out-huts of the camp, and everything in it carried off. Though we didn’t know much of the men, who they were or where they’d come from, they were whites, and that made the diggers very exasperated with the murderers. An expedition was at once organised to follow and punish the Red-men. We had no lack of leaders. Two or three men who had spent all their lives on the prairies or in the backwoods, and were well accustomed to cope with Indians, and knew all their tricks and cunning ways, offered their services. One fine old fellow was chosen—a Scotchman, called Donald McDonald. I guess that in his country there are a good many of the same name, but I don’t think many like him. He had lived all his life in these ports; and what made him come to Californy I don’t know, except the love of adventure, for he had plenty of money. He stood six feet four in his stockings, with a head of hair of a bright carrot-red, which hung down all over his shoulders—a beard and moustache to match. His brow, full of wrinkles, alone showed his age; for his eyes were bright and piercing, and his step as elastic as that of a young man. So as you seem pretty quiet with regard to the Ingins in these parts, I’ll just tell you how they manage things in the south, where, somehow or other, the whites are pretty nearly always at war with them. We assembled at the hut of the murdered men, that we might take our departure from it. There were numbers of footprints about the hut, but there had been no struggle near it. The men had been surprised by the crafty Ingins while they were asleep, run through with spears, and afterwards stabbed. Everything in the hut had been carried off by the murderers, who took no pains to conceal their numbers, or the direction in which they had gone. There was a considerable number of them, and their track led towards the most mountainous and intricate path of the country, with numerous streams intervening. ‘The varmints think by coming this way to baffle us; but we’ll soon let them know that a keen pair of eyes is following which has been accustomed for forty years or more to ferret them out, in spite of all their dodges,’ remarked Donald. It was well for those who had to accompany the old man to have a fast pair of legs.

“We kept on at a rapid rate the greater part of the day, the footmarks becoming more and more indistinct, from the nature of the ground, till we arrived at a mountain stream. As the traces were now totally lost, loud murmurs rose among our party.

“‘The savages have done us—depend on that,’ cried several of them.

“‘I ken they must be very clever savages, then,’ observed Donald, not a little offended at the imputation thrown on his sagacity.

“Donald continued walking up and down the stream for some time, carefully looking out for marks on the opposite side, for he well knew that the Indians must here have entered the stream and gone up or down some distance and then landed. No long time had passed before he shouted to us to follow him, and crossing the stream we came upon a track which looked at first as if only one person had passed, but on further examination we perceived that the varmint had formed in Indian file and trod in each other’s footsteps. We followed for some little distance, when the Ingins, little dreaming what sort of men would be after them, and despising the White Faces’ knowledge of their customs, broke off again, and walked along in a body, taking no pains to conceal their movements. They even dropped some of the flour which they were carrying off, and did not stop to hide the particles left on the ground. It was now getting dark, so we had to camp in a hollow, where we could light our fires without the danger of being seen by the Redskins, taking care, however, to prevent them from blazing up.

“As soon as we had camped, Donald went back to the river and quickly returned with a fat buck he had killed, and which he had watched for as it went to the stream to drink. We couldn’t sleep much for talking of the fight to come off next day, and for all the brave things we were going to do. By daybreak next morning we were on foot and closely following the trail of our enemies. In three or four hours we reached the place where they had camped, and Donald told us that the varmints had had a good supper on venison, and cakes made of the flour they had stolen, and that there were about five-and-twenty warriors, all well-armed with bows and arrows, and spears, and axes. We now pushed on more rapidly than ever, eager to be up with them. They were also marching quickly to get back to their camp, where they had left their squaws and papooses. Our route lay over mountains and across valleys, with grand scenery on every side. Each mountain we climbed the footprints of the Ingins became more and more distinct, till it was clear that we were rapidly getting up with them. McDonald, like a good general, now sent out scouts to prevent our being taken by surprise. We were told to hold our tongues and to look to our arms. At length we reached the summit of a lofty ridge, below which lay a broad valley.

“‘They are there,’ whispered McDonald; ‘and if you all keep silence, obey my orders, and behave like true men, we shall bag a round dozen of them.’

“These Californian chaps were no way particular how they treated the Redskins. Going on a little further, we saw, far down below us in the valley, a few wreaths of smoke curling up into the blue sky. They came from the fires of the Ingins. The order was now given to form in single file. Silently and cautiously we proceeded towards the encampment. The slightest noise or want of care would alarm our enemies, and perhaps bring destruction on our own heads. I guess it weren’t quite pleasant altogether, for if they had found us out, the tables might have been turned, and they would have killed us instead of our killing them.

“We crept on till we got to a low ridge, when, peering through the thick bushes, we saw, about four hundred yards off, a large body of Ingins encamped, some forty men or more, and twenty or thirty women. One old man, who seemed by his dress and position to be a chief, sat against a tree with a group of warriors collected round him, evidently giving an account of their adventures. The latter were in their war-paint, with feathers of different colours stuck in their hair, which was tied up in knots behind. They were as wild and fierce a set of fellows as I ever set eyes on. Yet Donald afterwards said that they were as arrant a set of cowards as are to be met with; but he certainly seemed to hold the Redskins at a cheap rate. Slowly we crept closer and closer. Fortunately the Ingins were so engaged with their speeches and boasting of their brave deeds in murdering two unhappy men in their sleep, that their usually quick ears did not hear us. At a most critical moment, however, one of our party kicked his foot against a loose stone, which rolled down the bank. Some of the Redskins started and looked up, but they were so engaged in their occupations, some in speech-making, and others in cooking, that, seeing nothing to alarm them, so thick were the bushes, they took no notice of what had occurred. We spread out in a line so as almost to surround them, and then crouching down, waited till all the party were collected together round their evening meal. At a signal from McDonald we were to commence operations. We waited for it in breathless suspense. With a startling effect our first volley sounded through the calm evening air. The Ingin warriors sprang to their feet; it was only to afford us a surer mark. On we sprang, and when within thirty yards, fired point-blank at the poor wretches. Five fell where they stood, shot through the head, several more staggered on mortally wounded; the rest, uttering fearful yells, took to flight. When the smoke cleared off, we discovered that they had halted to see who were their assailants.

“‘On, on, boys!’ shouted Donald, discharging his pistol at the Redskin nearest to him and bringing him to the ground. Then flourishing his formidable axe, he dashed on after the flying wretches.

“Those who had been the worst wounded made their way to a stream, where, in spite of our approach, their faithful squaws joined them, and began to bathe their wounds in the cool water. They knew that, however bad a wound, if the inflammation can be kept down, a man’s life may be saved. Many a poor fellow has died on the battle-field for want of cold water. ‘Let none of you hurt the women,’ shouted Donald, who, rough as he looked, was humane and kind-hearted in his way, as well as brave. Some of our fellows were, however, no better than savages themselves. Before Donald could interfere they had brained four of the wounded men. One of the women tried to save her husband, but two of our party killing the man, hurled her with him into the stream. One of the Redskins, who, badly wounded, was trying to escape, dropped as if he had suddenly fallen dead. His pursuer was about to knock out his brains, when the Ingin sprang to his feet, and tried to seize the gun from his assailant’s hands. He would have succeeded had not one of our party come up with a loaded pistol and shot the Redskin through the head. Donald insisted that the poor women who had so bravely remained by their husbands should be allowed to stay by them near the stream, greatly to the disappointment of some of the Californians, who wanted to kill all they could reach. Having collected all the articles which had been taken from the hut, including the flour, and as much venison as we could carry, we beat a retreat up the hills again. There was little fear of the party we had dispersed attacking us, but they would very likely collect their allies, and if we remained where we were, come down on us in overwhelming numbers. All the tribes in those parts have horses—mustangs they call them—so that they would have had no difficulty in collecting a large body of warriors in a short time, who, if they did not destroy us, would greatly harass us in our marches. Darkness compelled us to camp, and you may be sure we kept a sharp look-out all night, but the varmints had had enough of us, and allowed it to pass quietly.

“The Ingins followed us, however, the next day, though we took a different route to avoid them; but they soon found that we were led by a leader who knew what he was about, and that they were likely to come off second best if they attacked us. We got back safe to the diggings, and I was not sorry either. I am a man of peace, and I don’t like fighting of any sort, much less such murderous work as we had been engaged in—such as shooting a dozen of our fellow-creatures at their supper. Those Ingin murderers deserved punishment; there’s no doubt about that; but I did not fancy punishing them in that way.”

Habakkuk gave us several other anecdotes which he had heard of the redoubtable Scot, Donald McDonald. Among others I remember one which amused us greatly.

“Mr McDonald was very thick with the Redskins at all times, for he had a dark-red wife, and some light-red children, of whom he was very fond, and spent much of his time in the lodges of his wife’s relations. Gambling was then, of course, one of their principal amusements, especially when visitors came in. One day an old chief, Slabface, went into his father-in-law’s lodge, when he, with Donald and others, were soon engaged in gambling. Donald suddenly detected some trick or other, and rushing out into the open air, seizing his gun as he went, declared that he would play no more, and would be revenged on the rascal who had cheated him. Slabface followed, and asked him what he wanted. ‘Satisfaction,’ shouted Donald. ‘You are a cheat, a rogue, and a liar, and you must fight me.’

“‘All in good time; but you are reputed to be a brave chief, and chiefs should not put themselves into a passion,’ answered Slabface, quite coolly.

“‘I want none of your talk. I say again that you are a cheat and a liar!’ exclaimed Donald, getting more and more angry. ‘Will you fight me like a man, I ask?’

“‘A wise man wouldn’t get into so great a passion about so small a thing,’ said the Redskin, doing his utmost to exasperate Donald. ‘If you wish it I’ll fight to please you, though I think your proposal a foolish one. We will go into the wood and settle the matter.’

“‘Into the wood!’ shouted Donald. ‘By no means. Here as we stand, face to face, like men. Shall we fire together, or shall we draw for the first shot?’

“‘Why, now, indeed, I find that you are a far greater idiot than I supposed,’ exclaimed Slabface, in a tone of scorn. ‘Would any but a fool let his enemy point the muzzle of his gun at him, if he could help it? The Red-men are too wise to do such a thing. It is only foolish Pale Faces that fight thus.’

“‘Why how, in the name of sense, do you want to fight?’ exclaimed Donald. ‘I am inviting you to fight in the way all gentlemen fight in Scotland.’

“‘That shows that the gentlemen are fools,’ answered Slabface. ‘We will fight as all Indian warriors fight. We will go into the wood out there with our guns. You shall get behind one tree, and I will get behind another, and we will fire at each other as we can.’

“‘You are a coward, and afraid!’ cried Donald, turning on his heel.

“‘I am not afraid, but I choose that way of fighting,’ answered the chief, in the same calm tone as at first.

“‘Well, then, you shall have your own way,’ exclaimed Donald, who would not have yielded in any other matter of far less importance.

“Slabface, who was a good shot, would too probably have killed our friend, had not a party of us, hearing what was taking place, hurried up and contrived to soothe his anger. Still, to make things sure, we carried off both his arms and those of Slabface.”

Our friend Habakkuk’s account gave us a pretty correct idea of the state of affairs in the early days of the Californian diggings. Matters improved in Australia, though they were bad enough there at first, and I am glad to say that they were conducted still better at Cariboo, and the other diggings of British Columbia.

Trevor and I had soon seen enough of the Golden City and its motley society; the chief of which, a mere money aristocracy, was not at all to our taste. There is a considerable amount of trade between San Francisco and the Sandwich Islands, to which the diggers also often resort to recruit their health. Trevor, who had met Queen Emma at his High Church cousin’s rectory, near Portsmouth, a year ago, was so enthusiastic in her praise, that we determined to return to England by the Panama route, spending some days at Honolulu on our way, and joining the steamer from New Zealand at Tahiti, which is in the direct line to Panama. We accordingly engaged a passage on board a brig, theBanana, bound on a trading voyage to those islands. As I was leaving the office of the agent to whom theBananawas consigned, I found a party of seamen lounging about in front of the door, as seamen of all nations are accustomed to do. These were a curiously mixed set; not only of all nations, but of all colours and tints. There were scarcely two alike. Among them were several negroes. I saw one of them, a fine sailor-like looking fellow, start as he saw me. I looked again, and had little doubt that the man I saw before me was the runaway slave, Marcus. Yet, though he eyed me as some of his companions were doing, not by another glance or sign did he seem to recognise me. He cast also the same indifferent look at Peter and Ready. I stopped for a moment for Trevor, who wished to obtain some additional information about the brig, so that I had time to examine the countenance of the black more narrowly. Every feature was that of the countenance of Marcus. So convinced was I of this, that I was on the point of going up to speak to him, when I reflected that he might possibly have some good reason for not recognising me, as it was not likely that he should have forgotten me and Peter, or the dog.

As I walked on slowly, after Trevor rejoined me, I looked back and saw the black enter the ship-agent’s office. Again, looking back after some time, I saw him following us at a distance, and evidently wishing that it should not be seen that he was doing so. He watched us into our hotel and then disappeared. Some stars of the first magnitude were performing at the opera-house, and we went to hear them. On our return home, as we had nearly reached our hotel and were passing a dark archway, I felt my arm seized, and a voice whispered, “Stop!” I thought that I was about to be robbed, and expected to have a knife stuck into me—so did Trevor—when the voice said:

“I am a friend. Listen. You do not know me; but I know you, and remember that I owe you a deep debt of gratitude never fully to be repaid. I am Marcus—once a slave. I must be brief. You are about to sail in theBanana. A number of rich miners, and others, whose health requires recruiting, are about to proceed in her to the Sandwich Islands. She has also, it is well-known, a rich freight. She has been marked for destruction. A band of desperate men on board a fast vessel purpose following her. Two of them will be sent to ship on board as part of the crew, so that she has not a chance of escape. Take my advice; do not go by her; sacrifice your passage money. Any loss will be better than venturing to sea in that craft. Farewell, Mr Skipwith. I must not detain you, nor must I stay longer here. I owe you much; I am thankful that I have had again an opportunity of serving you. I have run a great risk to do so, and would willingly run a greater. We may never meet again; but believe that I earnestly desire your safety. I will not say I pray for it, for such a wretch as I am cannot pray. If I could, my prayers would turn to curses. Farewell, farewell!”

The last words were said in a tone of deep feeling. Even before I could answer, he had disappeared. I said nothing to Trevor before we got to our hotel. I then told him all I had heard, describing how I had met Marcus, and the opinion I had formed of him.

Trevor looked serious for a few moments, and then he said—

“I must see Marcus myself. Though I do not know him personally, what you have just told me, and what Dick wrote about this man, interests me much, and if he is in trouble again, which I fear he must be, from the stealthy way in which he dodged you, let us try to get him out of it. Black skin or white skin, what does it matter? At bottom he is a noble fellow, and if you see nothing to object to the plan, he shall return with us to Old England; and when there, between us, we can manage to do something for him.”

Of course, I could have no objection, so Trevor set off in search of the fugitive. San Francisco is not the pleasantest place in the world for such a search. There are a good many persons there who have been driven by their crimes out of society at home, and whose reckless way of living at the diggings casts a suspicion upon them, so that folks generally avoid that quarter of the city where they usually congregate, and where I had met Marcus but a few hours before.

I had been left to myself for more than three hours, and it was already getting dark, yet Trevor did not return. I therefore determined to go in search of him. I had just turned the corner of the street in which was the dark arch from which Marcus had emerged, when I saw Trevor and the black approaching. Jack had succeeded in drawing Marcus away from a lawless set of rascals, who were pirates of the worst class, by whom the latter had recently been captured, and had had his life spared upon taking the usual oath to join the crew of his captors. He was closely watched by them, so that Trevor could not get near him till the shades of evening had fairly set in.

Jack and Marcus were not long in bringing me to their way of thinking, that overland would be our safer way of reaching England; so we determined to lose our passage money, and on Marcus’s account more particularly, to take the easiest and quickest route to New York. Peter would not leave me, and is still a member of my household, dealing often in the marvellous, and frightening the maids in the kitchen with his narratives of shipwreck and crocodiles, of pirates and savages, and of blood and murder.

With our quitting San Francisco our perils and adventures came to an end, and we reached Liverpool in time to see Marcus on his way to Liberia, with letters of recommendation, before accepting dear Aunt Becky’s invitation to spend Christmas at Merton Lodge, and to spread out before her the trophies I had promised at starting, among which her drawing-room exhibits, by way of hearth-rugs, two panther skins, and, in large glazed cases, a lot of stuffed birds and reptiles, including a rattlesnake and a boa-constrictor.

I need not say that Ready is a great favourite with all the household, and that with true canine sagacity he knows how to make the most of his popularity. He seems to imply by his manner that the stuffed trophies would scarcely have been where they are but for him, and his bright eyes express as plainly as tongue can doQuorum pars magna fui, whenever Trevor and I have to narrate, for dear aunt’s repeated gratification, how the living creatures themselves were captured and where they ran wild.

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