CHAPTER SIX.
SAN FRANCISCO--AN UNEXPECTED DESERTION--CAPTAIN BUNTING TAKES A GLOOMYVIEW OF THINGS IN GENERAL--NEW FRIENDS AND NEW PLANS--SINGULAR FACTS ANDCURIOUS FANCIES.
The "Golden Gates," as they are called, of San Francisco, are two rockyheadlands, about a mile apart, which form the entrance to one of thefinest harbours, or rather land-locked seas, in the world. This harbouris upwards of forty miles long, by about twelve miles broad at itswidest point, and receives at its northern end the waters of the nobleSacramento river, into which all the other rivers in California flow.
Nearly opposite to the mouth of the Sacramento, on the southern shoresof the bay, stands the famous city of San Francisco, close to which the_Roving Bess_ let go her anchor and clasped the golden strand.
The old adage that, "truth is strange, stranger than fiction," was nevermore forcibly verified than in the growth and career of this wonderfulcity. No dreams of Arabian romance ever surpassed the inconceivablewonders that were matters of every-day occurrence there during the firstyears of the gold-fever; and many of the results attributed to Aladdin'swonderful lamp were almost literally accomplished--in some casesactually surpassed--in and around the cities of California.
Before the discovery of gold, San Francisco was a mere hamlet. Itconsisted of a few rude cottages, built of sun-dried bricks, which weretenanted by native Californians; there were also a few merchants whotrafficked in hides and horns. Cruisers and whalers occasionally putinto the harbour to obtain fresh supplies of water, but beyond these andthe vessels engaged in the hide-trade few ships ever visited the port,and the name of San Francisco was almost unknown.
But the instant the rumour got abroad that gold had been discoveredthere, the eyes of the world were turned towards it. In a few monthsmen and ships began to pour into the capacious harbour; a city of tentsoverspread the sand-hills on which the hamlet stood; thousands uponthousands of gold-hunters rushed to the mines; the golden treasures ofthe land were laid bare, and immense fortunes were made, literally inthe course of a few weeks. In many cases these were squandered orgambled away almost as soon as made; but hundreds of men retired fromthe gold-fields after a few months' labour, and returned home possessedof ample fortunes. Thousands, too, failed--some from physical inabilityto stand the fatiguing labour of the mines, and some from what theytermed "want of luck," though want of perseverance was, in nine casesout of ten, the real cause; while many hundreds perished from exposureand from the diseases that were prevalent in the country.
Well would it have been for these last had they remembered God's word,"Make not haste to be rich;" but the thirst for gold, and the prospectof the sudden acquisition of enormous wealth, had blinded them to thefact that their frames were not equal to the rough life at the mines.
The excitement was at its height when the _Roving Bess_ anchored off theshores of this land of gold.
The sun was just setting as the anchor dropped, and the crippled shipswung round towards the shore, for the tide had just begun to rise.
"Faix, it's a quare town," said Larry O'Neil to Ned, who was gazing inwrapt, astonishment and admiration ever the stern.
It was indeed "quare." The entire city was made up of the most flimsyand make-shift materials that can be conceived. Many of the shops weremere tents with an open framework of wood in front; some were made ofsheet-iron nailed to wooden posts; some were made of zinc; others,(imported from the States), of wood, painted white, and edged withgreen; a few were built of sun-dried bricks, still fewer of corrugatediron, and many of all these materials pieced together in a sort of fancypatchwork. Even boats were used as dwellings, turned keel up, with ahole cut in their sides for the egress of a tin smoke-pipe, and twoothers of larger size to serve as door and window.
Finding space scarce, owing to the abrupt rise of the hills from theshore, many enterprising individuals had encroached upon the sea, andbuilt houses on piles driven into the sand nearly half-a-mile below theoriginal high water mark.
Almost every nation under the sun had representatives there, and theconsequent confusion of tongues was equal to that of Babel.
The hills overhanging the lower part of the town were also well coveredwith tents, temporary houses, and cottages that had some appearance ofcomfort about them.
Such was the city on which the sun went down that night, and many werethe quaint, sagacious, and comic remarks made by the men as they satround their various mess-tables in the forecastle of the _Roving Bess_,speculating noisily and half-seriously on the possibility of getting arun into the interior for a day or two.
But there was a party of men in the ship whose conversation that nightwas neither so light-hearted nor so loud. They sat in a dark corner ofthe forecastle talking earnestly in subdued tones after the watch forthe night was set. Their chief spokesman was a rough, ill-lookingfellow, named Elliot.
"Ye see, lads," said this man to the half-dozen comrades around him, "wemust do it to-night, if we're to do it at all. There's the captain'ssmall boat layin' out astarn, which comes quite handy, an', as we loseall our pay by the dodge, I don't see why we shouldn't take it."
The man struck his fist into his left palm, and looked round the circlefor opinions.
"I don't half like it," said one; "it seems to me a sneaking way ofdoin' it."
"Bah!" ejaculated another, "wot gammon you do talk. If _he_ lose theboat, don't _we_ lose the tin? Besides, are we agoin' to let sich atrifle stand in the way o' us an' our fortins?"
"Have ye spoken to the other men, Elliot?" inquired one of the group.
"Ay, in coorse I have; an' they're all agreeable. Young Spense stoodout pretty stiff at first; but I talked him over. Only I said nothingto Larry O'Neil or Bill Jones. I know it's of no use. They'll neveragree; and if we wos to speak of it to either on 'em, he'd go right awayaft an' tell the captain. Their watch below 'll come on in an hour, an'then the watch on deck'll be on our side. So, lads, go and git ready--an' sharp's the word."
The party broke up, and went quietly below to prepare for flight,leaving no one on deck except O'Neil and Jones, and two of theircomrades, who formed part of the watch. As Elliot had said, the watchwas changed in about an hour. The mate and captain came on deck, lookedround to see that all was right, and then returned to the cabin, toconsult about the preliminary arrangements for disposing of the remnantof the cargo. Ned Sinton had turned in to have a good sleep before theexpected toil and bustle of the following day; O'Neil and Jones, beingrelieved from duty, were glad to jump into their hammocks; and the deckwas left in charge of the conspirators.
It was a clear, lovely night. Not a zephyr stirred the surface of thesea, in whose depths the starry host and the images of a hundred shipsof all shapes and tonnage were faithfully mirrored. Bright lightsillumined the city, those in the tents giving to them the appearance ofcones and cubes of solid fire. The subdued din of thousands of humanvoices floated over the water, and mingled with the occasional shout orsong that rose from the fleet and the splash of oars, as boats passed toand from the shore. Over all, the young moon shed a pale, soft light,threw into deep shadow the hills towards the north, which rose abruptlyto a height of 3000 feet, and tipped with a silver edge the peak ofMonte Diavolo, whose lofty summit overlooks all the golden land betweenthe great range of the Sierra Nevada and the ocean. It was a scene ofpeaceful beauty, well fitted to call forth the adoration of man to thegreat and good Creator. Doubtless there were some whose hearts rosethat night above the sordid thoughts of gain and gold; but few such wererecognisable by their fellow-men, compared with the numerous votaries ofsin and so-called pleasure.
Towards midnight, Captain Bunting turned in, ordering the steward tocall him at daybreak; and shortly afterwards the mate retired, havingpreviously looked round the deck and spoken the watch. A few minutesafter, Elliot and his comrades appeared on deck, with their boots andsmall bundles in their hands.
"Is all right?" whispered Elliot.
"All right!" replied one of the watch.
Nothing more was said; the boat was hauled softly alongside, and heldfirmly there while two men descended and muffled the oars; then one byone the men slid down the side, and a bag of biscuit and a junk of beefwere lowered into it by the second mate, who was one of theconspirators.
At that moment the first mate came on deck, and went forward to inquirewhat was wrong.
"It's something in the boat, sir," replied the second mate.
The mate looked over the side, and the sailors felt that they must bediscovered, and that their plans were about to be frustrated. But thesecond mate was a man of decision. He suddenly seized Williams roundthe neck, and, covering his mouth with his hand, held him as if in avice until he was secured and gagged.
"Shall we leave him!" whisperingly inquired one of the men.
"No, he'd manage to kick up a row; take him with us."
The helpless mate was immediately passed over the side, the rope wascast off; and the boat floated softly away. At first, the oars weredipped so lightly that no sound was heard, even by those on board,except the drops of brine that trickled from the blades as they rosefrom the water; then, as the distance increased, the strokes were givenmore vigorously, and, at last, the men bent to it "with a will;" andthey were soon shooting over the vast bay in the direction of theSacramento river, up which they meant to proceed to the "diggings."
With the exception of O'Neil and Jones, who had already reached thediggings in their dreams, the whole crew, sixteen in all, levanted,leaving Captain Bunting to navigate the ship back to Old England as hebest might.
It is easier to conceive than to describe the feelings of the captain,when, on the following morning, he discovered that his crew had fled.He stamped, and danced, and tugged his hair, and pursed up his lips sotight that nothing but an occasional splutter escaped them! Then he satdown on the cabin skylight, looked steadily at Ned, who came hurriedlyon deck in his shirt and drawers to see what was wrong, and burst into aprolonged fit of laughter.
"Hallo, captain! what's up!"
"Nothin', lad, ha! ha! Oh yes, human flesh is up, Ned; sailors is riz,an' we've been sold;--we have--uncommon!"
Hereupon the captain roared again; but there was a slight peculiarity inthe tone, that indicated a strong infusion of rage with the seemingmerriment.
"They're all gone--every man, Jack," said Jones, with a face of deepsolemnity, as he stood looking at the captain.
"So they are, the blackguards; an' that without biddin' us good mornin',bad luck to them," added O'Neil.
At first, Ned Sinton felt little disposed to take a comic view of theaffair, and urged the captain strongly to take the lightest boat and setoff in pursuit; but the latter objected to this.
"It's of no use," he said, "the ship can't be repaired here withoutheavy expense; so, as I don't mean to go to sea again for some time, thedesertion of the men matters little after all."
"Not go to sea again!" exclaimed Ned, in surprise. "What, then, do youmean to do?"
"That's more than I can tell. I must see first how the cargo is to bedisposed of; after that, it will be time enough to concoct plans for thefuture. It is quite clear that the tide of luck is out about as far asit can go just now; perhaps it may turn soon."
"No doubt of it, captain," cried his young _protege_ with a degree ofenergy that shewed he had made up his mind as to what _his_ courseshould be, in the event of things coming to the worst. "I'll go downand put on a few more articles of clothing, and then we'll have a talkover matters."
The "talk," which was held over the breakfast-table in the cabin,resulted in the captain resolving to go ashore, and call on a Scotchmerchant, named Thompson, to whom he had a letter of introduction.Half-an-hour later this resolve was carried out. Jones rowed themashore in the smallest boat they had, and sculled back to the ship,leaving O'Neil with them to assist in carrying up two boxes which wereconsigned to Mr Thompson.
The quay on which they stood was crowded with men of all nations, whoseexcited looks, and tones, and "go-ahead" movements, testified to thehigh-pressure speed with which business in San Francisco was transacted.
"It's more nor I can do to carry them two boxes at wance," said LarryO'Neil, regarding them with a puzzled look, "an' sorra a porter do I seenowhere."
As he spoke, a tall, gentlemanly-looking young man, in a red-flannelshirt, round-crowned wide-awake, long boots, and corduroys, steppedforward, and said, "I'll help you, if you like."
"D'ye think ye can lift it!" inquired Larry, with a dubious look.
The youth replied by seizing one of the boxes, and lifting it with easeon his shoulder, shewing that, though destitute of fat, he had more thanthe average allowance of bone and sinew.
"I doubt if you could do it better than that yourself, Larry," said Ned,laughing. "Come along, now, close at our heels, lest we get separatedin the crowd."
The young porter knew the residence of Mr Thompson well, and guidedthem swiftly through the crowded thoroughfares towards it. Passingcompletely through the town, he led them over the brow of one of thesand-hills beyond it, and descended into a little valley, where severalneat villas were scattered along the sides of a pleasant green slope,that descended towards another part of the bay. Turning into the littlegarden in front of one of these villas, he placed the box on the woodenplatform before the door, and said, "This is Mr Thompson's house."
There was something striking in the appearance of this young porter; heseemed much above his station in life; and Ned Sinton regarded hisbronzed and handsome, but somewhat haggard and dissipated countenance,with interest, as he drew out his purse, and asked what was to pay.
"Two dollars," answered the man.
Ned looked up in surprise. The idea of paying eight shillings for soslight a service had never entered his imagination. At that moment thedoor opened, and Mr Thompson appeared, and invited them to enter. Hewas a shrewd, business-like man, with stern, but kind expression ofcountenance.
"Come in, come in, and welcome to California," he said, on perusing thecaptain's letter of introduction. "Glad to see you, gentlemen. You'venot had breakfast, of course; we are just about to sit down. Thisway," he added, throwing open the door of a comfortable andelegantly-furnished parlour. "Bring the boxes into the passage--thatwill do. Here, Lizette, pay the men, dear; two dollars a-piece, Ifancy--"
"Excuse me," interrupted Captain Bunting, "only one bas to be paid, theother is one of my sailors."
"Ah! very good; which is he?"
Larry O'Neil stepped forward, hat in hand.
"Go in there, my man, and cook will attend to you."
Larry passed through the doorway pointed out with a pleasant, flutteringsensation at the heart, which was quickly changed to a feeling ofconsiderable disappointment on discovering that "cook" was a negro.
Meanwhile Lizette took two dollars from her purse, and bowing modestlyto the strangers as she passed out of the room, advanced with themtowards the young porter.
Now, Lizette was _not_ beautiful--few women are, in the highest sense ofthe term, and the few who are, are seldom interesting; but she waspretty, and sweet, and innocent, and just turned sixteen. Fortunatelyfor the male part of the world, there are many such. She hadlight-brown hair, which hung in dishevelled curls all round, a soft faircomplexion, blue eyes, and a turned-up nose--a pert little nose thatsaid plainly, "I _will_ have my own way; now see if I don't." But theheart that animated the body to which that nose belonged, was a good,kind, earnest one; therefore, the nose having its own way was rather ablessing than otherwise to those happy individuals who dwelt habituallyin the sunshine of Lizette's presence.
At this particular time, ladies were scarce in California. The immenserush of men from all parts of the earth to the diggings had not beenaccompanied as yet by a corresponding rush of women, consequently thesight of a female face was, as it always ought to be, a source ofcomfort to mankind. We say "comfort" advisedly, because life at thegold-mines was a hard, riotous, mammon-seeking, rugged, and, we reg
retto say it, ungodly life; and men, in whom the soft memories of "otherdays" were not entirely quenched, had need, sometimes, of the comfortingreflection that there still existed beings on the earth who didn't rant,and roar, and drink, and swear, and wear beards, and boots, andbowie-knives.
There was double cause, then, for the gaze of respectful admiration withwhich the young porter regarded Lizette, as she said, "Here is yourfare, porter," and put the money into his hand, which he did not eventhank her for, but continued to hold extended as if he wished her totake it back again.
Lizette did not observe the gaze, for she turned away immediately aftergiving him the money, and re-entered the parlour, whereupon the youththrust both hands into his breeches-pockets, left the house, andreturned slowly to the city, with the expression on his countenance ofone who had seen a ghost.
Meanwhile Captain Bunting and Ned Sinton sat down with their host andhostess to a second breakfast, over which the former related thecircumstances of the double loss of his crew and cargo.
"You are unfortunate," said Mr Thompson, when the captain paused; "butthere are hundreds in nearly the same predicament. Many of thefine-looking vessels you see in the harbour have lain helplessly therefor months, the crews having taken French leave, and gone off to thediggings."
"It's awkward," said the captain, with a troubled expression, as heslowly raised a square lump of pork to his mouth; "what would you adviseme to do?"
"Sell off the remnant of the cargo, and set up a floatingboarding-house."
The square lump of pork disappeared, as the captain thrust it into hischeek in order to say, "What?" with a look of intense amazement.
Lizette laughed inadvertently, and, feeling that this was somewhat rude,she, in her effort to escape, plunged deeper into misfortune by turningto Sinton, with a blushing countenance, and asking him to take anothercup of tea--a proposal that was obviously absurd, seeing that she had amoment before filled up his second cup.
Thus suddenly appealed to, Ned stammered, "Thank you--if you--ah!--no,thank you, not any more."
"Set up a floating boarding establishment," reiterated the merchant, ina tone of decision that caused them all to laugh heartily.
"It may sound strange," he continued, "but I assure you it's not a badspeculation. The captain of an American schooner, whose crew desertedthe very day she arrived, turned his vessel into a floatingboarding-house, about two months ago, and I believe he's making afortune."
"Indeed," ejaculated the captain, helping himself to another mass ofpork, and accepting Lizette's proffer of a third cup of tea.
"You have no idea," continued the merchant, as he handed the bread toNed, and pressed him to eat--"you have no idea of the strange state ofthings here just now, and the odd ways in which men make money. Owingto the rush of immigrants everything is enormously dear, and house-roomis not to be had for love or money, so that if you were to fit up yourship for the purpose you could fill it at once. At the various hotelsin the city an ordinary meal at the _table d'hote_ costs from two tothree dollars--eight and twelve shillings of our money--and there aresome articles that bear fabulous prices. It's a fact that eggs at thismoment sell at a shilling each, and onions and potatoes at the sameprice; but then wages are enormously high. How long this state ofthings will last no one can tell; in the meantime, hundreds of men aremaking fortunes. Only the other day a ship arrived from New York, andone of the passengers, a `'cute' fellow, had brought out fifteen hundredcopies of several newspapers, which he sold for a dollar each in lessthan two hours! Then, rents are tremendous. You will scarcely believeme when I tell you that the rent paid by the landlord of one of thehotels here is 110,000 dollars--about 22,000 pounds--a year, and it isbut a poor building too. My own warehouse, which is a building of onlyone storey, with a front of twenty feet, is rented to me at 40,000dollars--8000 pounds a year--and rents are rising."
Ned and the captain leaned back in their chairs aghast at suchstatements, and began to entertain some doubts as to the sanity of theirhost; but the worthy merchant was a grave, quiet man, without a particleof romance in his composition, and he went on coolly telling them factswhich Ned afterwards said made his hair almost stand on end, when hethought of how little money he possessed, and how much he would have topay for the bare necessaries of life.
After some further converse on men and things in general, and onprospects at the mines, Mr Thompson said, "And now, Captain Bunting,I'll tell you what I'll do. I will go down to your ship, overhaul thecargo, and make you an offer for the whole in the lump, taking thesaleable with the unsaleable. This will, at any rate, put you in fundsat once, and enable you to follow what course seems best. Will thatsuit you?"
"It will," said the captain, "and thank 'ee. As for turning aboardin'-house keeper, I don't think I'm cut out for it. Neither is myfriend Sinton, eh?"
"Certainly not," answered Ned, laughing: "we might as well becomewasherwomen."
"You'd make a pretty good thing of it if you did," retorted MrThompson; "would they not, Lizette? you know more about these thingsthan I do."
"Indeed, I cannot tell, papa, as I do not know the capabilities of ourfriends in that way; but I think the few washerwomen in the city must bemaking fortunes, for they charge two shillings a-piece for everything,large and small."
"Now, then, gentlemen," said the merchant, rising, "if you have quitefinished, we will walk down to the harbour and inspect the goods."
An arch smile played round Lizette's lips as she shook hands with Ned atparting, and she seemed on the point of speaking, but checked herself.
"I beg pardon," said Ned, pausing, "did you--"
"Oh, it was nothing!" said Lizette; "I was only going to remark that--that if you set up in the washing line, I shall be happy to give you allthe work I can."
"Ahem!" coughed Ned gravely, "and if we should set up in the _other_line, will you kindly come and board with us?"
"Hallo, Ned, what's keeping you?" roared the captain.
"Coming," shouted Ned, as he ran after him. "Where has Larry O'Neilgone?"
"He's away down before us to have a look at the town. We shall findhim, I doubt not, cruising about the quay."
In a few minutes the three friends were wending their way through thecrowded streets back to the shore.
The Golden Dream: Adventures in the Far West Page 6