Digging for Gold: Adventures in California

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER SIX.

  ARRIVAL AT THE GOLD-FIELDS, AND LESSONS IN GOLD-WASHING RECEIVED.

  At last Bigbear Gully was reached, and our travellers--especially thoseof them who, being new to the work, were all enthusiasm--pressed eagerlyforward, anxious to begin without delay.

  Bigbear Gully--so named because of a huge grizzly bear that had beenshot there at the commencement of digging operations--was a wild andsomewhat gloomy but picturesque mountain gorge, the first sight ofwhich, with its lights and shadows, stupendous cliffs and clumps of woodclinging to the hill-sides, called forth a burst of delight andadmiration from Frank Allfrey, whose mind at once leaped with lovingdesire to the brush and the colour-box; but as these implements were atthat time packed among the baggage on the mule's back, and as the loveof art was not sufficiently strong in the guide to induce him to permitof a moment's delay in the journey, our hero was fain to content himselfwith visions of future indulgence in his favourite study.

  The "diggings," which they first got sight of in the afternoon of a fineand sunny but cool day, were at the mouth of a deep gorge at the lowerend of the gully, having an abrupt mountain acclivity about eighthundred feet high on one side, and on the other a plain bounded bymountains. Here numbers of tents of all sizes and various shapes werepitched on the slopes and near the banks of the river that brawled downthe centre of the little valley.

  No sooner had the travellers entered the camp than the diggers lefttheir work and flocked round them to ask the news, and, moreparticularly, to ascertain what provisions had been brought to thevalley,--for the necessaries of life at that time were getting scarce,and the party from which Frank and his companions had separated, strangeto say, had not arrived.

  Great anxiety was manifested by the diggers on hearing of thisseparation, because on the safe and speedy arrival of that party theydepended almost for their existence, and deep as well as loud were theexpressions of disappointment and discontent when they were told that,if all had gone well, they should have been at the gully some daysbefore.

  Soon, however, the diggers had exhausted their queries and returned totheir work, leaving the new arrivals to look after their own affairs.This they proceeded to do promptly.

  "Now, friends," said Jeffson, "our journeying together has come to anend, and it remains for you to settle whether you shall keep togetherand work in company, or separate. As for me, my business compels me toleave you. Yonder white tent, which you see about half a mile upthe river, belongs to me and my partner. It is the greateconomico-universal store of Jeffson and Company, which supplies diggersliberally on the most moderate terms, giving credit as long as it seemsadvisable to do so. When Jeffson is absent, Company takes charge of theconcern, and it is my opinion that Company will be kind o' glad to-nightto see the head of the firm come back safe and sound with freshsupplies. You see, gentlemen, I feel it sort of incumbent on me to makeyou a farewell speech as a fellow-traveller, because I mean to become ahost for to-night, and ask you to come up to the store and partake ofour hospitality. I am quite sure that you will acquit me of theunworthy motive of wishing to attract you as customers, when I tell youthat I am already certain of your custom, seeing that there is no otherstore in the gully, and I guess you won't be inclined to go down toSacramento for supplies for some time to come."

  There was a general laugh at this, followed by a hearty expression ofthanks from all the party, who forthwith adjourned to the store, wherethey found "Company" (who was an Irishman named Quin) barely able tokeep his legs, in consequence of a violent attack of dysentery which hadreduced him to a mere shadow. The poor man could scarcely refrain fromshedding tears of joy at the sight of his partner, who, to do himjustice, was almost as much affected by sorrow at the miserableappearance presented by his friend.

  "Sure it's dead I am intirely--all but," said Quin, as he wrungJeffson's hand again and again; "if ye'd bin a day later it's my belaifI'd have gone under the sod."

  "Well, you do look like it, Quin," said Jeffson, stepping back to take amore critical view of him. "What on airth pulled all the flesh off yerbones in this fashion?"

  "Sickness, no less. Faix, there's more than me is in the same fix. JimDander, down at the cross creek, has got so thin that it's of no mannero' use looking at him sideways, he's not quite visible till he turns hisflat front to ye. And Foxey is all but gone; and there's many a manbesides as is on the road to the grave, if not there already. Sure, thedoctor's the only man that makes money now, though he kills more than hecures. The baste called to try his hand on mysilf, but I flung my bigboots at his head, an' saw no more of him."

  "That's a bad account of things," said Jeffson; "however, here I am backagain with fresh supplies, so cheer up, man, and we'll weather the stormyet. I've brought some fellow-travellers, you see, and hope you willreceive them hospitably."

  "That must not be," said Frank Allfrey, advancing, "it would be unfairto put your friend to unnecessary trouble, considering the state ofweakness to which--"

  "Waikness, is it?" exclaimed Quin, seizing Frank's hand and shaking it;"well, now, it's little I thought I'd iver live to be called waik!Howsever, it's too thrue, but me moral strength is wonderful, so you'reheartily welcome, if ye can slaip on a plank floor an' ait salt-pork an'paise. There, now, don't be botherin' a sick man wid yer assurances.Just make yerselves at home, gintlemen, an' the head o' the firm willgit yer supper ready."

  Saying this, the poor man, who was quite worn out with excitement andthe exertion of welcoming his partner, flung himself on his couch with adeep sigh. As Jeffson also pressed his friends to remain, they made nofurther objection.

  While supper was being prepared, Frank and Joe went out to look at thediggers.

  "Now," said the former as they sauntered along the bank of the river,"the question that you and I must settle at once is, are we two to workby ourselves, or are we to join with our late friends, and work incompany?"

  "Jine 'em, say I," replied Joe. "I'm fond of Meyer, and I like theScotchman too, though he is rather fond of argification; besides, itstrikes me that from what we have heard of diggers' ways, we shall bethe better of being a strong party."

  "Four men don't form a very strong party, Joe; however, I agree withyou. It would be well that we four should stick together. So, that'ssettled, and now we shall go and ask yonder fellow in the red shirt andbig boots something about our prospects."

  The scene in the midst of which they now found themselves was curious,interesting, and suggestive. For two miles along its course the banksof the river were studded with tents, and on each side of it werediggers, working at short distances apart, or congregated together,according to the richness of the deposits. About twenty feet was thespace generally allowed at that time to a washing machine. Most of thediggers worked close to the banks of the stream, others partiallydiverted its course to get at its bed, which was considered the richestsoil. At one place a company of eighty men had banded together for thepurpose of cutting a fresh channel for the river--a proceeding whichafterwards resulted in a fierce and fatal affray with the men who workedbelow them. Elsewhere on the sides of the mountains and in "gulches"formed by torrents, men toiled singly and in twos or threes, with picks,shovels, washing-pans, and cradles. All were very busy, but all werenot equally hopeful, for, while some had been successful in finding theprecious metal, others had failed, and were very desponding.

  "Have you had good fortune to-day?" asked Frank, stopping at the edge ofthe hole in which the miner with the red shirt toiled.

  "Not very good," replied the man, whose voice betokened him anEnglishman.

  He was an immensely powerful, good-looking fellow, and paused in hiswork to reply to Frank's question with a hearty air.

  "Have you to dig very deep?" inquired Frank.

  "Not very," he replied; "the depth varies in different parts of thediggings. Here it is seldom necessary to go deeper than four feet.Indeed, a white rock usually lays about the depth of two feet under thesoil. It is difficu
lt to cut through, and does not pay for thetrouble."

  "Do you find gold on the surface?" continued Frank.

  "Almost none. Being weighty, it sinks downwards through the looseearth, and settles on the rock. I see, gentlemen, that you arestrangers, and, if I mistake not, Englishmen. I am a countryman,hailing from Cornwall, and, if you have no objection, will accompany youin your inspection of the diggings. My experience may be of service toyou, perhaps, and I can at all events guard you from the scoundrels whomake a livelihood by deceiving and cheating newcomers."

  Frank thanked the Cornish miner for his kind offer, and accompanied bythis new and intelligent friend, he and Joe continued their ramble.

  One of the first men whom they addressed happened to be one of thesharpers referred to. He was a Yankee, and although the Yankees were byno means the _only_ scoundrels there, for there was no lack of such--English, Scotch, Irish, German, and Chinese--they were unquestionablythe "'cutest!"

  This man was very busy when they approached, and appeared to be quiteindifferent to them. Observing, however, that they were about to passby, he looked up, and, wiping his brow, said, "Good-evening."

  "Good-evening," said Frank, "What luck?"

  "Luck enough," replied the man, "I'm tired of luck; the fact is, I havemade my pile, and want to make tracks for home, but this is such asplendid claim that I can't tear myself away from it. See here."

  He struck his shovel into the ground as he spoke, and lifted a quantityof earth, or "dirt," into a basin, washed it out, and displayed to theastonished gaze of the "greenhorns," as newcomers were called, a largequantity of gold-dust, with several small nuggets interspersed.

  "Splendid!" exclaimed Frank.

  "You'll make your fortin," said Joe Graddy.

  "It's made already, I reckon," said the Yankee, with the air of a manwho was overburdened with success. "The truth is, I want to get awaybefore the rainy season comes on, and will part with this here claim foran old song. I'm half inclined to make you a present of it, but I don'tquite see my way to that. However, I've no objection to hand it overfor, say a hundred dollars."

  "H'm!" ejaculated the Cornish man, "will you take a shovelful from the_other_ end of the claim and wash it out?"

  The Yankee smiled, put his finger on the side of his nose, and, wishingthem success in whatever line of life they chose to undertake, went onwith his work.

  The Cornish miner laughed, and, as he walked away, explained to hisastonished companions that this was a common dodge.

  "The rascals," he said, "hide a little gold in a claim that isvalueless, and, digging it up as you have seen, wash it out in thepresence of newcomers, in the hope of taking them in. But here we cometo a party who will show you a little of legitimate gold-washing."

  They approached, as he spoke, a bend of the river where several men werebusy at work--some with pick and shovel, some with the cradle, andothers with tin washing-pans. Here they stood for some time watchingthe process of gold-washing.

  At the time of which we write, only the two simple processes of washing,with the pan and with the cradle, were practised at Bigbear Gully, themore elaborate methods of crushing quartz, etcetera, not having beenintroduced.

  The most simple of these was the _pan_ process, which was much infavour, because the soil, or "dirt" was so rich in gold-dust that it"paid" well, and it only required that the miner should possess a pick,a shovel, and a tin pan. With this very limited stock in trade he couldbegin without delay, and earn at least a subsistence; perhaps even make"his pile," or, in other words, his fortune.

  One of the men connected with the party above referred to was engaged inpan-washing. He stood in a hole four feet deep, and had just filled aflat tin dish with dirt, as Frank and his companions stopped to observehim. Pouring water on the dirt, the miner set the pan down, dipped bothhands into it and stirred the contents about until they became liquidmud--removing the stones in the process, and operating in such a mannerthat he caused some of the contents to escape, or spill, off the top ateach revolution. More water was added from time to time, and theprocess continued until all the earthy matter was washed away, andnothing but a kind of black sand, which contained the gold, left at thebottom. The separation of the metal from the black sand was an afterprocess, and a more difficult one. It was accomplished in some cases bymeans of a magnet which attracted the sand. In other cases this wasblown carefully off from a sheet of paper, but a few of the miners, whomanaged matters in a more extensive and thorough manner, effected theseparation by means of quicksilver. They mixed it with the sand, addeda little water, and stirred it about until the gold amalgamated with thequicksilver, converting it into a little massive, tangible, and softheap. It was then put into a buckskin cloth, through the pores of whichthe quicksilver was squeezed, leaving the pure gold behind. Anytrifling quantity of the former that might still remain was afterwardsevaporated on a heated shovel or pan.

  An expert worker in average ground could gather and wash a panful ofdirt every ten minutes. There were few places in Bigbear Gully thatwould not yield two shillings' worth of gold to the panful, so that inthose early days, while the surface soil was still fresh, a man could,by steady work alone--without incidental nuggets--work out gold-dust tothe value of between five and six pounds sterling a day, while,occasionally, he came upon a lump, or nugget, equal, perhaps, to what hecould procure by the labour of a week or more.

  Many, however, of the more energetic miners worked in companies and usedcradles, by means of which they washed out a much larger quantity ofgold in shorter time; and in places which did not yield a sufficientreturn by the pan process to render it worth while working, the cradleowners obtained ample remuneration for their toil.

  The cradle, which Frank and his comrades saw working not far from thepan-washer, was by no means a complex affair. It was a semi-circulartrough hollowed out of a log six feet long by sixteen inches diameter.At one end of this was a perforated copper or iron plate, with a rim ofiron or wood round it, on which the dirt was thrown, and water pouredthereon, by one man, while the cradle was rocked by another. The gold,earth, and small gravel were thus separated from the larger stones, andwashed down the trough, in which, at intervals, two tranverse bars wereplaced; the first of these arrested the gold, which from its greatweight sunk to the bottom, while the gravel, and lighter substances,were swept away by the current. The lower bar caught any particlesthat, by awkward management, might have passed the upper one.

  Having satisfied their curiosity, and learned from an obliging miner themethod of washing the gold, our adventurers returned to Jeffson's store,and there spent the night in discussing their plan of procedure. It wasdecided, first of all, that they should stick together and work incompany.

  "You see, mates," observed Joe Graddy, after the others had given theiropinions, "this is how it stands. I must stick by Mister Allfrey,'cause why, we've bin pullin' in the same boat together for some timepast, an' it's nat'ral for to wish to continue so to do. Then Douglasand Meyer ought to stick to us, 'cause we have for so long stuck tothem, an' they ought to stick to one another 'cause they're mootooallyfond o' misty-physical jabberin' on religious subjects, which is greatlyto our edification, seein' that we don't onderstand it, and finds ithighly amoosin' while we smoke our pipes after a hard day's work, d'yesee? So, on them grounds, I votes that we j'ine company an' go to workat seven o'clock to-morrow mornin'."

  "Das ist goot advise," said the German, slapping Joe on the shoulder,"an' I vould add mine vott, vich is, to make you commandair of deforces."

  "Very good, then I command you to shut your mouth, and go to bed."

  "Unpossabil," replied Meyer, "for I do snor, an' always do him troo demout'."

  "I prefers to do it through the nose," remarked Joe, rolling his blanketround him and lying down on the hard boards with his head on a sack.

  Expressing a hope that they would restrain their snoring propensities asmuch as possible, the remaining members of the new co-partnery lay
downbeside them, and were speedily in the land of dreams. Need we add thattheir dreams that night were of gold? Surely not, and perhaps it wereequally unnecessary to observe that their slumbers were profound.