CHAPTER TEN.
GAME AND COOKERY--ARRIVAL AT THE DIGGINGS--LITTLE CREEK--LAW AND ORDERIN THE MINES--NOONING AT LITTLE CREEK--HARD-UP--OUR ADVENTURERS GETCREDIT AND BEGIN WORK--A YANKEE OUTWITTED.
Deer, hares, crows, blackbirds, magpies, and quails, were the creaturesthat bounded, scampered, hopped, and flew before the eyes of thetravellers at every step, as they wended their way pleasantly, beneath abright morning sun, over the hills and through the lesser valleys of thegreat vale of the Sacramento. And all of these creatures, excepting thecrows and magpies, fell before the unerring and unexpectedly usefulblunderbuss of Captain Bunting, passed a temporary existence in the mawof the big iron pot, and eventually vanished into the carnivorous jawsof Ned Sinton and his friends.
Crows were excluded from their bill of fare, because the whole party hadan unconquerable antipathy to them; and Larry said he had "aiten manypies in his lifetime, but he had niver aiten magpies, and he'd be shotav he wos goin' to begin now."
The duties of chief hunter devolved upon the captain,--first, because hewas intensely fond of shooting; and, secondly, because game was soplentiful and tame, that it was difficult to avoid hitting _something_,if one only fired straight before one. For the same reasons theblunderbuss proved to be more effectual than the rifle. The captainused to load it with an enormous charge of powder and a handful ofshot--swan-shot, two sizes of duck-shot, and sparrow-hail, mixed, withan occasional rifle-ball dropped in to the bargain. The recoil of thepiece was tremendous, but the captain was a stout buffer--if we may bepermitted the expression--and stood the shock manfully.
Stewed squirrels formed one of their favourite dishes, it was frequentlyprepared by Tom Collins, whose powers in the culinary department provedto be so great that he was unanimously voted to the office of _chef decuisine_--Bill Jones volunteering, (and being accepted), to assist indoing the dirty work; for it must be borne in mind that the oldrelations of master and man no longer subsisted amongst any of thetravellers now--excepting always the native vaquero. All were equal atstarting for the diggings, and the various appointments were made by,and with the consent of the whole party.
Little Creek diggings were situated in a narrow gorge of the mountains,through which flowed a small though turbulent stream. The sides of thehills were in some places thickly clothed with trees, in others theywere destitute not only of vegetation but of earth, the rock on thesteeper declivities of the hills having been washed bare by theperiodical heavy rains peculiar to those regions. Although wild andsomewhat narrow, this little valley was, nevertheless, a cheerful spot,in consequence of its facing almost in a southerly direction: while,towards the east, there were several wide and picturesque gaps in thehills which seemed to have been made for the express purpose of lettingthe sun shine the greater part of the day upon the diggers while theywere at work--an advantage, no doubt, when the weather was cool, butrather the reverse when it was hot.
The entrance to Little Creek was about two miles wide, undulating, andbeautifully diversified, resembling pleasure grounds rather than aportion of the great wilderness of the far west; but the vale narrowedabruptly, and, about three miles further into the mountains, became amere gap or ravine through which the streamlet leaped and boiledfuriously.
It was an hour before noon when our travellers came suddenly upon thewide entrance to the valley.
"How beautiful!" exclaimed Ned, as he reined up to gaze in admirationover the flowering plain, with its groups of noble trees.
"Ay," said Maxton, enthusiastically, "you may well say that. There maybe, perchance, as grand, but I am certain there is not a grander countryin the world than America--the land of the brave and free."
Ned did not assent at once to the latter part of this proposition.
"You forget," he said, hesitatingly, as if disinclined to hurt thefeelings or prejudices of his new friend, "you forget that it is theland of _slaves_!"
"I confess that I did forget that at the moment," answered Maxton, whilethe blood mounted to his forehead. "It is the foulest blot upon mycountry's honour; but I at least am guiltless of upholding the accursedinstitution, as, also, are thousands of my countrymen. I feel assured,however, that the time is coming when that blot shall be wiped away."
"I am glad, my friend," said Ned, heartily, "to hear you speak thus; tobe frank with you, I could not have prevailed upon myself to have heldout to you the hand of intimate friendship had you proved to be adefender of slavery."
"Then you'll form few friendships in this country," said Tom Collins,"for many of the Yankees here have been slave-holders in their day, andalmost all defend the custom."
The conversation was interrupted at this point by Larry O'Neil utteringa peculiarly Hibernian exclamation, (which no combination of letterswill convey,) and pointing in an excited manner to an object a fewhundred yards in advance of them.
"What d'ye see, lad!" inquired Bill Jones, shading his eyes with hishand.
The whole party came to a halt, and gazed earnestly before them for afew minutes in silence.
"Och!" said O'Neil, slowly, and with trembling earnestness, "av me twoeyes are spakin' truth, it's--it's a _goold digger_!--the first o' thegoold-diggers!"--and Larry followed up the discovery with a mingledcheer and war-whoop of delight that rang far and wide over the valley.
At such an unwonted, we might almost say, appalling, sound, the "firsto' the goold-diggers,"--who was up to his waist in a hole, quietly andmethodically excavating the earth on the river's bank with a pick-axe--raised his head, and, leaning on the haft of his pick, scrutinised thenew arrivals narrowly.
"Hooray, my hearty!" shouted Larry, as he advanced at a gallop, followedby his laughing comrades. "The top o' the mornin' to ye--it's good luckI'm wishin' ye, avic. How are ye gittin' on in the goold way, honey?"
The rough-looking, dusty, and bearded miner, smiled good-humouredly, ashe replied, in a gentle tone of voice that belied his looks--"Prettywell, friend; though not quite so well as some of my neighbours. Ipresume that you and your friends have just arrived at the mines?"
"Tear an' ages! it's a gintleman, I do belave," cried Larry, turning tohis companions with a look of surprise.
The miner laughed at the remark, and, leaping out of the hole, did hisbest to answer the many questions that were put to him in a somewhatexcited tone by the party.
"Where's the gold?" inquired Jones, gravely, going down on his knees atthe side of the excavation, and peering into it. "I don't see none,wotsomediver."
"The dust is very fine here," answered the miner, "and not easilydetected until washed. Occasionally we come upon nuggets and pockets inthe dry parts of the river's bed, and the _canons_ of the hills, but Ifind it most profitable to work steadily down here where the wholeearth, below the surface, is impregnated with fine particles of gold.Many of the diggers waste their time in _prospecting_, which word, Isuppose you know, means looking out for new diggings; but, according tothe proverb of my country, I prefer to remain `contented wi' little, andcantie wi' mair.'"
"Are we far-distant from the other miners in this creek?" inquired Ned.
"No; you are quite close. You will come upon the colony after passingthat bluff of trees ahead of you," answered the Scotchman; "but come, Iwill shew you the way; it is not far from nooning-time, when I usuallycease work for a couple of hours."
So saying, the miner threw his pick-axe and shovel into the hole, andled the way towards the colony of Little Creek.
"Ain't you afraid some of the bad-looking scoundrels in these parts maytake a fancy to your pick and shovel?" inquired the captain, as theyrode along at a foot pace.
"Not in the least. Time was when I would have feared to leave them; forat one time neither life nor property was safe here, where so manyruffians congregated from all parts of the world; but the evil wroughtits own cure at last. Murders and robberies became so numerous, thatthe miners took to Lynch law for mutual protection. Murderers andthieves were hanged, or whipped almost to death, with such promptitude,
that it struck terror into the hearts of evil-doers; and the consequenceis, that we of this valley are now living in a state of perfect peaceand security, while in other districts, where the laws of Judge Lynchare not so well administered, murders and thefts are occasionally heardof. Here, if a man takes a fancy to go prospecting for a time, he hasonly to throw his pick and shovel into his claim, or upon his heap ofdirt, [see note 1] and he will be sure to find them there untouched onhis return, even though he should be absent several weeks. Our tents,too, are left unwatched, and our doors unfastened, with perfect safety,though it is well-known that hundreds and thousands of dollars ingold-dust lie within. I do not mean to assert that we have attained toabsolute perfection--a murder and a theft do occasionally occur, butsuch are the exceptions, security is the rule."
"Truly," said Ned Sinton, "you seem to live in a golden age in allrespects."
"Not in all," answered the Scot; "the terrors of the law deter from openviolence, but they do not enforce morality, as the language anddeportment of miners generally too plainly shew. But here we are at thecolony of Little Creek."
They rounded the projecting spur of one of the hills as he spoke, andthe whole extent of the little valley opened up to view. It was indeeda romantic and curious sight. The vale, as we have said, was narrow,but by no means gloomy. The noontide sun shed a flood of light over theglistening rocks and verdant foliage of the hills on the left, and castthe short, rounded shadows of those on the right upon the plain.Through the centre of this the Little Creek warbled on its course; nowcircling round some wooded knoll, until it almost formed an island; anondropping, in a quiet cascade, over the edge of a flat rock; in someplaces sweeping close under the base of a perpendicular cliff; in othersshooting out into a lake-like expanse of shallow water across abright-green meadow, as it murmured on over its golden bed towards theSacramento.
Higher up the valley the cliffs were more abrupt. Dark pines andcedars, in groups or singly, hung on their sides, and gave point to thelandscape, in the background of which the rivulet glittered like asilver thread where the mountains rose in peaks towards the sky.
Along the whole course of this rivulet, as far as the eye could traceit, searchers for gold were at work on both banks, while their whitetents, and rude wooden shanties, were scattered, singly or in clustersof various extent, upon the wooded slopes, in every pleasant andsuitable position. From the distance at which our party first beheldthe scene, it appeared as if the miners were not men, but little animalsgrubbing in the earth. Little or no sound reached their ears; there wasno bustle, no walking to and fro, as if the hundreds there assembled hadvarious and diverse occupations. All were intently engaged in one andthe same work. Pick-axe and shovel rose and fell with steady regularityas each individual wrought with ceaseless activity within the narrowlimits of his own particular claim, or rocked his cradle beside it.Dig, dig, dig; rock, rock, rock; shovel, shovel, shovel, was the orderof the day, as long as day lasted; and then the gold-hunters resteduntil recruited strength and dawning light enabled them again to go downinto the mud and dig, and rock, and shovel as before.
Many, alas! rocked themselves into a fatal sleep, and dug and shovelledtheir own graves among these golden hills. Many, too, who, althoughthey dug and toiled for the precious metal, had neither made it theirgod nor their chief good, were struck down in the midst of their heavytoils, and retired staggering to their tents, and there, still clad intheir damp garments, laid their fevered heads on their saddles--notunfrequently on their bags of gold-dust--to dream of the distant homesand the loved faces they were doomed to see no more; and thus, dreamingin solitude, or watched, mayhap, by a rough though warm-hearted mate,breathed out their spirits to Him who gave them, and were laid in theirlast resting-place with wealth untold beneath them, and earthimpregnated with gold-dust for their winding-sheet. Happy, thricehappy, the few who in that hour could truly say to Jesus, "Whom have Iin heaven but Thee? and there is _none upon earth_ that I desire besideThee."
Just as our travellers approached the nearest and largest cluster ofhuts and tents, a sudden change came over the scene. The hour of noonhad arrived, and, as if with one consent, the miners threw down theirtools, and swarmed, like the skirmishers of an invading host, up fromthe stream towards the huts--a few of the more jovial among them singingat the full pitch of their lungs, but most of them too wearied to carefor aught save food and repose.
Noon is the universal dinner-hour throughout the gold-mines, an hourwhich might be adopted with profit in every way, we venture to suggest,by those who dig for gold in commercial and legal ledgers and cash-booksin more civilised lands. When the new-comers reached a moderately-sizedlog-cabin, which was the chief hotel of the colony, they found it in allthe bustle of preparation for an immediate and simple, thoughsubstantial, meal.
"Can we have dinner!" inquired Ned, entering this house ofentertainment, while his companions were unsaddling and picketing theirhorses and mules.
"To be sure ye can, my hearty," answered the smiling landlord, "if yepay for it."
"That's just the reason I asked the question," answered Ned, seatinghimself on a cask--all available chairs, stool; and benches having beenalready appropriated by mud-bespattered miners, "because, you must know,I _can't_ pay for it."
"Ho!" ejaculated mine host, with a grin, "hard-up, eh! got cleaned outwith the trip up, an' trust to diggin' for the future? Well, I'll giveye credit; come on, and stick in. It's every man for himself here, an'no favour."
Thus invited, Ned and his friends squeezed themselves into seats besidethe long _table d'hote_--which boasted a canvas table-cloth, and hadcasks for legs--and made a hearty meal, in the course of which theyobtained a great deal of useful information from their friend McLeod theScotchman.
After dinner, which was eaten hurriedly, most of the miners returned totheir work, and Ned with his friend; under the guidance of McLeod, wentdown to the river to be initiated into the mysteries of gold-digging andwashing. As they approached several of the claims which their ownerswere busy working, a Yankee swaggered up to them with a cigar in hismouth, an impudent expression on his face, and a pick-axe on hisshoulder.
"Guess you've just come to locate in them diggin's, strangers," he said,addressing the party at large, but looking at Ned, whose superior heightand commanding cast of countenance proved him unmistakeably to be aleader.
"We have," replied Ned, who disliked the look of the man.
"Thought so. I'm jest goin' to quit an' make tracks for the coast.'Bliged to cut stick on business that won't wait, I calc'late. It'splaguey unlucky, too, for my claim's turnin' out no end o' dollars, butI must sell it slick off so I don't mind to let ye have it cheap."
"Is your claim better than the others in the neighbourhood?" inquiredNed.
"Wall, I jest opine it is. Look here," cried the Yankee, jumping intohis claim, which was a pit of about eight feet square and three deep,and delving the shovel into the earth, while Ned and his friends,besides several of the other miners, drew near to witness the result.Maxton and Tom Collins, however, winked knowingly at each other, and,with the Scotchman, drew back to the rear of the group.
The first shovelful of earth thrown up was absolutely full of glitteringparticles of gold, and the second was even more richly impregnated withthe precious metal.
Ned and the captain stood aghast with amazement, and Bill Jones openedmouth and eyes to their utmost extent.
"Hooroo! och! goold galore! there it is at last!" shouted Larry O'Neil,tossing up his arms with delight. "Do buy it, Mr Ned, darlint."
"I needn't turn up more, I guess," said the Yankee, carelessly throwingdown his shovel, and filling the earth into a tin bowl or pan; "I'lljest wash it out an' shew ye what it's like."
So saying he dipped the pan into the stream gently, and proceeded towash out the gold. As this was done in the way usually practised bydiggers, we shall describe it.
Setting down the tin pan of earth and water, the Yankee dipped bothhands into it and stir
red its contents about until it became liquid mud,removing the stones in the operation. It was then moved round quicklywith a peculiar motion which caused some off the top to escape over theedge of the pan with each revolution; more water was added from time totime, and the process continued until all the earthy matter was washedaway, and nothing but a kind of black sand, in which the gold is usuallycontained, remained at the bottom.
"There you are," cried the man, exultingly, lifting up a handful of theheavy and shining mixture; "fifteen dollars at least in two shovelfuls.I'll sell ye the claim, if ye like, for two hundred dollars."
"I would give it at once," said Ned, feeling at the moment deeplytroubled on account of his poverty; "but, to say truth, I have not afarthing in the world."
A peculiar grin rested on the faces of the miners who looked on as hespoke, but before he could inquire the cause, Tom Collins steppedforward, and said:
"That's a first-rate claim of yours. What did ye say was your chargefor it?"
"Three hundred dollars down."
"I'll tell ye what," rejoined Tom, "I'll give you _six_ hundred dollarsfor it, if you take out another shovelful of dirt like _that_!"
This remark was greeted by a general laugh from, the bystanders, whichwas joined in by the Yankee himself as he leaped out of the hole, and,shouldering his shovel, went off with his friends, leaving Ned and someothers of his party staring at each other in astonishment.
"What _does_ it all mean?" he inquired, turning to Tom Coffins, whoselaughing countenance shewed that he at least was not involved inmystery.
"It means simply that we were all taken for green-horns, which was quitea mistake, and that we were to have been thoroughly cheated--acatastrophe which has happily been prevented. Maxton and I determinedto let the rascally fellow go as far as he could, and then step in andturn the laugh against him, as we have done."
"But explain yourself. I do not yet understand," repeated Ned, with apuzzled look.
"Why, the fact is, that when strangers arrive at the diggings, full ofexcitement and expectation, there are always a set of sharpers on thelook-out, who offer to sell their claims, as they often say, `for a meresong,' and in order to prove their worth, dig out a little dirt, andwash it, as you have just seen done; taking care beforehand, however, tomingle with it a large quantity of gold-dust, which, of course, comes tolight, and a bargain is generally struck on the spot, when the sharpergoes off with the price, and boasts of having `done' a green-horn, forwhich he is applauded by his comrades. Should the fraud be detectedbefore the completion of the bargain, as in our case, he laughs with therest, and says, probably, he `warn't so 'cute as usual.'"
"Och, the scoundrels!" cried Larry; "an' is there no law for sichdoin's?"
"None; at least in most diggings men are left to sharpen their own witsby experience. Sometimes, however, the biter is pretty well bitten.There was a poor Chilian once who was deceived in this way, and paidfour hundred dollars for a claim that was scarcely worth working. Helooked rather put out on discovering the imposture, but was only laughedat by most of those who saw the transaction for his softness. Somethere were who frowned on the sharper, and even spoke of lynching him,but they were a small minority, and had to hold their peace. However,the Chilian plucked up heart, and, leaping into his claim, worked awaylike a Trojan. After a day or two he hit upon a good layer of blueclay, and from that time he turned out forty dollars a day for twomonths."
"Ah! good luck to him," cried Larry.
"And did the sharper hear of it?" inquired the captain.
"That he did, and tried to bully the poor fellow, and get his claim backagain; but there was a strong enough sense of justice among the minersto cause such an outcry that the scoundrel was fain to seek otherdiggings."
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Note 1. "Dirt" is the name given among miners, to the soil in whichgold is found.
The Golden Dream: Adventures in the Far West Page 10