CHAPTER THREE.
A VISIT TO THE DIGGINGS RESOLVED ON. TERRIBLE COMMENCEMENT OF THEJOURNEY.
When next morning arrived, Joe Graddy, true to his word, appeared withthe first--if not of the "flood-tide," at least of the morning sun, andFrank told him that, on the previous evening, he had made arrangementsto go to the diggings in company with a party that was to start thefollowing day; that he had already made purchases of the few thingswhich they would require on the journey, and that the only thingremaining to be done was to pack up.
"Now, Joe, you must go at once to the principal guide and makearrangements with him as to that brandy and tea on which you expect tofound your future fortunes. I told him to expect a visit from you earlyin the day."
"Wotiver you do, do it at once," said Joe, putting on his straw hat withan energetic slap. "That's one of my mottos. I'll go an' carry it intopractice."
The following day saw Frank and his man set forth with a party of aboutthirty men, all of whom were clad in blue or red flannel shirts, strawhats, big boots, and other rough garments; with rifles on theirshoulders, and bowie-knives and pistols in their belts. These were menof various nations; Californians, Chinamen, Malays, Americans, Scotch,and English, and many of them looked not only rough but savage. Intruth, they were as diverse in their characters as in their appearance,some of them being men who had evidently moved in good society, whileothers were as evidently of the lowest--probably the convict--class.They had all, however, been thrown together by the force of a commoninterest. All were bound for the gold-mines, and it was necessary thatthey should travel in company for mutual protection and assistance.
There were two guides, who had charge of ten pack-mules loaded withprovisions for the storekeepers at some remote diggings. These guideswere stern, powerful, bronzed fellows, who had to make their way amongrough men in difficult circumstances, and they seemed to be quiteprepared to do so, being fearless, resolute, and armed to the teeth.
Joe Graddy had obtained permission, on promise of payment, to place hislittle fortune on the backs of the mules, so that he and Frank hadnothing to carry save their weapons and blankets, besides a tin cup eachat their girdles, and a water-bag.
"Come, I like this sort of thing," said one of the party, an Englishman,when the order was given to start. "If it is all like this it will beuncommonly jolly."
"I guess it ain't all like this, stranger," said one of the Americanswith a good-humoured grin.
One of the guides laughed, and the other ejaculated "humph!" as they setforward.
There was indeed some ground for the remark of the Englishman, for thecountry through which they passed was most beautiful, and the weatherdelicious. Their track lay over an undulating region of park-like landcovered with short grass; clumps of bushes were scattered here and thereabout the plain, and high above these towered some magnificent specimensof the oak, sycamore, and Californian cypress, while in the extremedistance rose the ranges of the "golden" mountains--the Sierra Nevada--in the midst of which lay the treasures of which they were in search.
All the members of the party were on foot, and, being fresh, full ofhope, and eager to reach their destination. They chatted gaily as theymarched over the prairie.
On the way the good-humoured American seemed to take a fancy to Frank,with whom he had a great deal of animated conversation. After askingour hero every possible question in regard to himself and intentions, hetold him that he was Yankee,--a piece of superfluous information, by theway;--that his name was Jeffson, that he was a store-keeper at one ofthe farthest off diggings, that the chief part of the loading of one ofthe mules belonged to him, and that he was driving a considerablebusiness in gold-dust without the trouble of digging for it.
Towards evening they came to a very small hole in the plain, which wasdignified with the name of a well. Here they stopped to replenish theirwater-casks.
"Take as much as you can carry, men," said the principal guide, "we've along march to the next well, over sandy ground, and sometimes thereain't much water in it."
They all followed this advice with the exception of one man, a coarsesavage-looking fellow, with a huge black beard and matted locks, whocalled himself Bradling, though there was ground for doubting whetherthat was the name by which he had been at first known in the world.This man pulled out an enormous brandy-flask, and with a scoffing laughsaid:--
"This is the water for me, mister guide, pure and unmixed, there'snothin' like it."
He nodded as he spoke, and put the flask to his lips, while the guide,who made no rejoinder, eyed him with a grave, stern expression ofcountenance.
That night they all encamped under the shade of a small clump of trees,kindled several large fires, and, heartily glad to be relieved of theirback-burdens, sat down to enjoy supper. After it was over pipes weresmoked and stories told, until it was time to retire to rest. Then eachman lay down under his blanket, the sky being his canopy, and thehowling of the wolves his lullaby.
It seemed to each sleeper, when awakened next morning, that he had onlyjust closed his eyes, so sound had been his repose, and there was agreat deal of violent yawning, stretching, grumbling, and winking beforethe whole party was finally aroused and ready to set forth. However,they got under way at last, and early in the forenoon came to the edgeof a sandy plain, which appeared to be interminable, with scarcely ablade of grass on it. Here they halted for a few minutes.
"How wide is the plain, guide?" inquired Frank.
"Forty miles," replied the man, "and there's not a drop of water to behad till the end of the first twenty. We'll get there about sundown,and replenish our kegs, if it's not all gone dry. Let me warn you,however, to use the water you have sparingly."
"Do we encamp at the end o' the first twenty?" asked Jeffson.
"Yes, you'll find it a long enough day's march."
No one made any reply, but by their looks they appeared to think nothingof a twenty-mile walk. They found, however, that such a distance,traversed over loose sand ankle-deep, and under a burning sun, was notwhat any of them had been accustomed to.
On entering the plain they observed that the heat had opened cracks andfissures in the earth, which omitted a fiery heat. At intervalspyramids of sand arose, which were borne with great velocity through theair, sometimes appearing in the shape of columns sixty feet high, whichmoved majestically over the plain. Ere long some of these clouds ofsand enveloped them, and they were accompanied by hot winds, whichseemed to shrivel up, not only the skin, but the very vitals of thetravellers. The pores of their skin closed, producing feverish heat inthe blood and terrible thirst, while their eyes became inflamed by thedazzling glare of the sun on the white sand.
Of course most of the party applied pretty frequently to theirwater-kegs and bottles. Even Bradling gave up his brandy, and wascontent to refresh himself with the little of the pure element whichchanced to remain in his formerly despised, but now cherished,water-bottle. The guides carried skins of water for themselves and themules, but these they opened very seldom, knowing full well the tormentsthat would ensue if they should run short before getting across thescorching desert.
Thus they went on hour after hour, becoming more and more oppressed atevery step. The improvident among them drank up the precious water toofast, and towards evening began to sigh for relief, and to regard withlonging eyes the supplies of their more self-denying companions. Theyconsoled themselves, however, to some extent, with thoughts of the deepdraughts they hoped to obtain at night.
Our hero and Joe were among those who reserved their supplies.
As night approached the thirst of the travellers increased to a terribleextent, insomuch that they appeared to forget their fatigue, and hurriedforward at a smart pace, in the eager hope of coming to the promisedwater-hole. Great, therefore, was their dismay when the guides toldthem that it was impossible to reach the place that night, that themules were too much knocked up, but that they would get to it early onthe following day.
They said little, however, seeming to be too much depressed to expresstheir disappointment in words, but their haggard looks were fearfullyeloquent. Some of those who had wasted their supplies earnestlyimplored their more prudent comrades to give them a little, a "verylittle," of the precious element, and two or three were generous enoughto give away a few drops of the little that still remained to them.
The place where they had halted was without a scrap of vegetation, andas there was no wood wherewith to kindle a fire, they were compelled toencamp without one. To most of the travellers, however, this was amatter of little importance, because they were too much exhausted toeat. Those who had water drank a mouthful sparingly, and then lay downto sleep. Those who had none also lay down in gloomy silence. They didnot even indulge in the usual solace of a pipe, for fear of adding tothe burning thirst with which they were consumed.
At day-break they were aroused by the guides, and rose with alacrity,feeling a little refreshed, and being anxious to push on to thewater-hole, but when the sun rose and sent its dazzling rays over thedreary waste, giving promise of another dreadful day, their spirits sankagain. Seeing this the principal guide encouraged them by saying thatthe water-hole was not more than three miles distant.
Onward they pushed with renewed energy and hope. At last they reachedthe place, and found that the hole was dry!
With consternation depicted on their haggard countenances the men lookedat the guide.
"Dig, men, dig," he said, with a troubled look on his bronzed face,"there may be a little below the surface."
They did dig with shovels, spades, knives, sticks, hands, anything, andthey dug as never men did for gold. All the gold in California wouldthey have given at that time for a cupful of cold water, but all thegold in the world could not have purchased one drop from the parchedsand. Never was despair more awfully pictured on men's faces as theygazed at one another after finding that their efforts were unavailing.Their case was truly pitiable, and they turned to the guide as if theyexpected commiseration; but the case had become too desperate for him tothink of others. In a stern, hard voice he cried--
"Onwards, men! onwards! The nearest stream is forty miles off. None ofthose who have water can spare a drop, and death lies in delay. Everyman for himself now. Onward, men, for your lives!"
Saying this he applied the whip to the poor mules, which, with glazedeyes and hanging ears, snorted with agony, and dropped down frequentlyas they went along, but a sharp thrust of the goad forced them to riseagain and stumble forward.
"God help the poor wretches," murmured Joe Graddy to Frank as theystaggered along side by side. "Is our supply nearly out--could we notgive them a drop?"
Frank stopped suddenly, and, with desperate energy, seized the keg whichhung over his shoulder, and shook it close to the ear of his companion.
"Listen," he said, "can we afford to spare any with forty miles of thedesert before us? It is our life! we must guard it."
Graddy shook his head, and, admitting that the thing was out of thequestion, went silently forward. It was all that Frank himself could doto refrain from drinking the little that remained, for his very vitalsseemed on fire. Indeed, in this respect, he suffered more than some ofhis companions, for while those of them who had not charge of thewater-kegs and bottles experienced the pain of suffering and hopelesslonging, he himself had the additional misery of having to resisttemptation, for at any moment he could have obtained temporary relief bygratifying his desires at the expense of his companions.
Overpowered with heat, and burnt up with thirst, those without water tomoisten their parched lips and throats could scarcely keep pace with theguide. By degrees they threw away their possessions--their blankets,their clothes,--until the plain behind was strewn with them.
"Don't go so fast," groaned one.
"Won't ye halt a while?" said another uttering a curse--then, suddenlychanging his tone, he implored them to halt.
"We cannot halt. It is death to halt," said the guide, in a tone soresolute and callous that those who were enfeebled lost heartaltogether, and began to lag behind.
At that time the man Bradling, who had become nearly mad with drinkingbrandy, ran in succession to each of those who had water, and offeredall that he possessed of the former for one mouthful of the latter. Hisflushed face, glassy eyes, and haggard air, told how terrible was hisextremity; but although some might have felt a touch of commiserationnot one was moved to relieve him. The law of self-preservation hadturned the hearts of all to stone. Yet not quite to stone, for therewere one or two among them who, although nothing would induce them togive a single drop to a comrade, were content to do with _less_ in orderthat they might relieve a friend!
One man in his desperation attempted to lick the bodies of the mules,hoping to obtain relief from the exudations of their skins, but the duston them rendered this unavailing.
Suddenly Bradling darted at the water-skin hanging by the side of theguide's mule, and swore he would have it or die.
"You'll die, then," observed the guide quietly, cocking a pistol andpresenting it at his head.
Bradling hesitated and looked at the man. There was a cold stony stare,without the least excitement, in his look, which convinced him that hisattempt, if continued, would end in certain death. He fell back at oncewith a deep groan.
Onward they pressed, hour after hour, until, in many of them, exhaustednature began to give way. They became slightly delirious, and, findingthat they could not keep up with the party, a few determined, if leftbehind, to keep together. Among the number was Bradling, and terriblewere the imprecations which he hurled after the more fortunate as theyparted. It seemed cruel; but to remain with them would have done nogood, while it would have sacrificed more lives. Bradling seemed toregard Frank as his chief enemy, for he shouted his name as he wasmoving off, praying God to send down the bitterest curses on his head.
A sudden impulse moved the heart of Frank. He turned back, poured abouthalf a wine-glassful of water into a tin can and gave it to theunfortunate man, who seized and drained it greedily, licking the rim ofthe can and gazing into it, to see that not a drop had escaped him, withan eagerness of manner that was very painful to behold.
"God bless you," he said to Frank with a deep sigh.
"Do you think," said Frank earnestly, "that God will curse and bless atyour bidding?"
"I don't know, and don't care," replied the man, "but I say God blessyou. Go away and be content with that."
Frank had already lost too much time. He turned and hastened after theothers as fast as possible.
"They won't last long," said the guide harshly, as he came up. "Thewolves or the redskins will soon finish them. You were a fool to wasteyour water on them."
"You are a fool to give your opinion to one who neither asks nor caresfor it," retorted Frank.
The man took no notice of the reply, and Frank afterwards felt somewhatashamed of being so hasty, for at night, when they encamped, the guideadvised him, in a friendly way, to keep a sharp look-out on the water,as those who had finished theirs during the day would be not unlikely tomake an attack on those who had any left. Frank thanked him; but beingtoo much fatigued to mount guard, he and Graddy, with his Yankee friendJeffson, slept together, rolled in their blankets, with pistols in theirhands and the water-bottles attached to them. Nothing disturbed them,however, during the night, save the howling of wolves, and the imploringcries, irritated exclamations, and angry discontent of the sufferingmen, which latter sounds were far more terrible than the cries of wildbeasts.
A little before day-break some who could not rest sprang up andcontinued their journey, walking at their utmost speed until theysighted the woodland. Then, indeed, did a new sensation of delight filltheir souls as they gazed upon the green verdure. Even the mules,though their eyes were bandaged, seemed to know that water was near.They snuffed the breeze, pricked up their ears, and neighed loudly. Onreaching the woods, and sighting the river, a momentary halt
was calledto cast off the burdens of the mules. This was speedily done, and thenthey all rushed--men and mules together--deep into the stream andluxuriated in the cool water!
When they had slaked their thirst to the uttermost, Graddy proposed thata party should be sent back to the relief of those left behind, andoffered to join it. Frank seconded this proposal, and the Yankee,Jeffson, volunteered to join it. A German named Meyer, who had bornehis sufferings with great fortitude, also volunteered, as did aScotchman named Douglas.
"You may propose what you please," said the guide, when he heard themtalking, "but _I_ will not wait for you."
"Why not?" inquired Frank somewhat angrily. "Because I was not hiredfor such work. It is my business to push on to the mines, and push on Iwill, follow who pleases."
"Bot fat if ve compel you for to stay?" asked the German with anindignant air.
"Then you will guide yourselves as you best may, I will refuse to go astep further. Is it fair that I should be hired for a special job andthen be asked to turn aside and risk my life for the sake of men whohave chosen to throw their own lives away, and who are no doubt dead bythis time?"
A number of the travellers applauded this sentiment, and it was evidentthat the philanthropists were very much in the minority, but here Frankstepped in and turned the scale, at least to some extent.
"Men," said he, raising his clenched fist, "I know not what your notionsof humanity may be, or your ideas of justice, but this I know, that theman who has the power to help a fellow-mortal in deadly distress andholds back his hand, is worse than a beast, for he has reason to guidehim, and a beast has not. I and my comrade Joe Graddy, at least, willremain behind, even though we should be left alone, but I am convincedthat we shall _not_ be left alone. Meanwhile," he added, addressing theguide, "I shall pay you my share of what is due, after which you may go,and I shall wish you no worse luck than that your conscience may go withyou and be a lively companion."
"There is more to be said than that," observed the Yankee at this point."You are so very fond of fulfilling your duty, mister guide, that Ihave concluded to relieve you of some of it. One of these mules isloaded entirely with my goods. Now, I guess, I'll remain behind withMister Allfrey, and keep the mule at a reasonable valuation."
"I'll not part with him at any price," said the guide with a sneer."I'll carry your goods to the diggings or I'll unstrap them, stranger,and let you carry them the best way you can, but I'm not bound to sellmy mules to you."
"Now, men," cried the Yankee, springing forward and addressing hiscomrades, "I appeal to you all in the name of fair-play! Here am I,willin' to pay this man a fair price for his mule. There's not a pickor shovel belongin' to any one else on its back, so I'm doin' damage tonobody by the proposal. This critter is bent on refusin' me out ofspite; now, I propose to settle the question here with the rifle orpistol or bowie-knife. He is welcome to choose his weapon--it mattersnothin' to me, and whichever falls loses the day."
There was a burst of laughter at this, and the majority insisted thatthe guide should give in, while a few, who were fond of excitement,suggested that the two should be allowed to fight it out, but this theguide refused to do; and when his comrade, the second guide, steppedforward and said he would join those who wanted to remain, hegrumblingly agreed to part with the mule for its full value.
The bargain was soon made. The one party continued their journey; theother, with an abundant supply of water, returned to those who had beenleft behind, and reached them in time to save their lives.
That night, as Frank and Graddy lay together under the same blanket, thelatter observed that, "he had travelled a goodish bit over the univarse,but that he had niver before comed across nothin' like the experiencesof the last two days; and that, if the end of their diggin' for gooldwoe to be as bad as the begginin', the sooner they set about diggin'their graves the better!"
With which sentiment Frank Allfrey heartily agreed, and thereafter fellasleep.
Digging for Gold: Adventures in California Page 3