to the river, and the fourth would wash it in the 'rocker.'
The average weight of gold got by each miner while we were at
the 'wet diggin's,' I.E. where water had to be used, was
nearly half an ounce or seven dollars' worth a day. We saw
three Englishmen who had bought a claim 30 feet by 100 feet,
for 1,400 dollars. It had been bought and sold twice before
for
considerable sums, each party supposing it to be nearly
'played out.' In three weeks the Englishmen paid their 1,400
dollars and had cleared thirteen dollars a day
apiece for
their labour.
Our presence here created both
curiosity and
suspicion, for
each gang and each individual was very shy of his neighbour.
They did not believe our story of crossing the plains; they
themselves, for the most part, had come round the Horn; a few
across the isthmus. Then, if we didn't want to dig, what did
we want? Another
peculiarity about us - a great one - was,
that, so far as they could see, we were unarmed. At night
the majority, all except the few who had huts, slept in a
zinc house or sort of low-roofed barn, against the walls of
which were three tiers of bunks. There was no room for us,
even if we had wished it, but we managed to hire a trestle.
Mattress or covering we had none. As Fred and I lay side by
side, squeezed together in a
trough scarcely big enough for
one, we heard two fellows by the door of the shed talking us
over. They thought no doubt that we were fast asleep, they
themselves were
slightly fuddled. We nudged each other and
pricked up our ears, for we had already canvassed the
question of
security, surrounded as we were by ruffians who
looked quite ready to
dispose of babes in the wood. They
discussed our 'portable property' which was nil; one decided,
while the other believed, that we must have money in our
pockets. The first remarked that, whether or no, we were
unarmed; the other wasn't so sure about that - it wasn't
likely we'd come there to be skinned for the asking. Then
arose the question of
consequences, and it transpired that
neither of them had the courage of his rascality. After a
bit, both agreed they had better turn in. Tired as we were,
we fell asleep. How long we had slumbered I know not, but
all of a sudden I was seized by the beard, and was conscious
of a report which in my dreams I took for a pistol-shot. I
found myself on the ground amid the wrecks of the trestle.
Its joints had given way under the extra weight, and Fred's
first
impulse had been to
clutch at my throat.
On the way back to San Francisco we stayed for a couple of
nights at Sacramento. It was a
miserable place, with nothing
but a few
temporary buildings except those of the Spanish
settlers. In the course of a walk round the town I noticed a
crowd collected under a large elm-tree in the horse-market.
On
inquiry I was informed that a man had been lynched on one
of its boughs the night before last. A piece of the rope was
still
hanging from the tree. When I got back to the 'hotel'
- a place not much better than the shed at Yuba Forks - I
found a newspaper with an
account of the affair. Drawing a
chair up to the stove, I was deep in the story, when a huge
rowdy-looking fellow in digger-costume interrupted me with:
'Say, stranger, let's have a look at that paper, will ye?'
'When I've done with it,' said I, and continued
reading. He
lent over the back of my chair, put one hand on my shoulder,
and with the other raised the paper so that he could read.
'Caint see
rightly. Ah,
reckon you're readen 'baout Jim,
ain't yer?'
'Who's Jim?'
'Him as they sus-spended
yesterday mornin'. Jim was a
purticler friend o' mine, and I help'd to hang him.'
'A friendly act! What was he hanged for?'
'When did you come to Sacramenty City?'
'Day before
yesterday.'
'Wal, I'll tell yer haow't was then. Yer see, Jim was a
Britisher, he come from a place they call Botany Bay, which
belongs to Victoria, but ain't 'xactly in the Old Country. I
judge, when he first come to Californy, 'baout six months
back, he warn't acquainted none with any boys hereaway, so he
took to diggin' by hisself. It was up to Cigar Bar whar he
dug, and I chanst to be around there too, that's haow we got
to know one another. Jim hadn't been here not a fortnight
'fore one of the boys lost 300 dollars as he'd made a cache
of. Somehow
suspicions fell on Jim. More'n one of us
thought he'd been a diggin' for bags instead of for dust; and
the man as lost the money swore he'd hev a turn with him; so
Jim took my advice not to go foolin' around, an' sloped.'
'Well,' said I, as my friend stopped to
adjust his tobacco
plug, 'he wasn't hanged for that?'
''Tain't likely! Till last week nobody know'd whar he'd gone
to. When he come to Sacramenty this time, he come with a
pile, an' no mistake. All day and all night he used to play
at faro an' a heap o' other games. Nobody couldn't tell how
he made his money hold out, nor whar he got it from; but
sartin sure the crowd
reckoned as haow Jim was
considerableof a loafer. One day a
blacksmith as lives up Broad Street,
said he found out the way he done it, and ast me to come with
him and show up Jim for cheatin'. Naow, whether it was as
Jim
suspicioned the
blacksmith I cain't say, but he didn't
cheat, and lost his money in
consequence. This riled him
bad, so wantin' to get quit of the
blacksmith he began a
quarrel. The
blacksmith was a quick-tempered man, and after
some language struck Jim in the mouth. Jim jumps up, and
whippin' out his
revolver, shoots the t'other man dead on the
spot. I was the first to lay hold on him, but ef it hadn't
'a' been for me they'd 'a' torn him to pieces.
'"Send for Judge Parker," says some.
'"Let's try him here," says others.
'"I don't want to be tried at all," says Jim. "You all know
bloody well as I shot the man. And I knows
bloody well as
I'll hev to swing for it. Gi' me till
daylight, and I'll die
like a man."
'But we wasn't going to hang him without a proper trial; and
as the trial lasted two hours, it - '
'Two hours! What did you want two hours for?'
'There was some as wanted to lynch him, and some as wanted
him tried by the reg'lar judges of the Crim'nal Court. One
of the best speakers said lynch-law was no law at all, and no
innocent man's life was safe with it. So there was a lot of
speakin', you bet. By the time it was over it was just
daylight, and the majority voted as he should die at onc't.
So they took him to the horse-market, and stood him on a
table under the big elm. I kep' by his side, and when he was
getting on the table he ast me to lend him my
revolver to
shoot the
foreman of the jury. When I wouldn't, he ast me to
tie the knot so as it wouldn't slip. "It ain't no
account,
Jim," says I, "to talk like that. You're bound to die; and
ef they didn't hang yer I'd shoot yer myself."
'"Well then," says he, "gi' me hold of the rope, and I'll
show you how little I keer for death." He snatches the cord
out o' my hands, pulls hisself out o' reach o' the crowd, and
sat cross-legged on the bough. Half a dozen shooters was
raised to fetch him down, but he tied a noose in the rope,
put it round his neck, slipped it puty tight, and stood up on
the bough and made 'em a speech. What he
mostly said was as
he hated 'em all. He cussed the man he shot, then he cussed
the world, then he cussed hisself, and with a terr'ble oath
he jumped off the bough, and swung back'ards and for'ards
with his neck broke.'
'An Englishman,' I reflected aloud.
He nodded. 'You're a Britisher, I
reckon, ain't yer?'
'Yes; why?'
'Wal, you've a puty strong accent.'
'Think so?'
'Wal, I could jest tie a knot in it.'
This is a
vulgar and repulsive story. But it is not fiction;
and any picture of Californian life in 1850, without some
such
faithful touch of its local colour, would be inadequate
and misleading.
CHAPTER XXXII
A STEAMER took us down to Acapulco. It is probably a
thriving port now. When we were there, a few native huts and
two or three stone buildings at the edge of the jungle
constituted the 'town.' We bought some horses, and hired two
men - a Mexican and a Yankee - for our ride to the city of
Mexico. There was at that time nothing but a mule-track, and
no public
conveyance of any kind. Nothing could
exceed the
beauty of the
scenery. Within 160 miles, as the crow flies,
one rises up to the city of Mexico some 12,000 feet, with
Popocatepetl over
hanging it 17,500 feet high. In this short
space one passes from
intensetropical heat and
vegetation to
pines and laurels and the proximity of
perpetual snows. The
path in places winds along the brink of precipitous
declivities, from the top of which one sees the climatic
gradations blending one into another. So narrow are some of
the mountain paths that a mule laden with ore has often one
panier over
hanging the
valley a thousand feet below it.
Constantly in the long trains of animals descending to the
coast, a slip of the foot or a
charge from behind, for they
all come down the steep track with a jolting
shuffle, sends
mule and its load over the ledge. We found it very difficult
in places to get out of the way in time to let the trains
pass. Flocks of parrots and great macaws screeching and
flying about added to the
novelty of the scene.
The villages, inhabited by a cross between the original
Indians and the Spaniards, are about twenty miles apart. At
one of these we always stayed for the night,
sleeping in
grass hammocks suspended between the posts of the verandah.
The only travellers we fell in with were a party of four
Americans, returning to the Eastern States from California
with the gold they had won there. They had come in our
steamer to Acapulco, and had left it a few hours before we
did. As the villages were so far apart we
necessarily had to
stop at night in the same one. The second time this happened
they, having arrived first, had quartered themselves on the
Alcalde or
principalpersonage of the place. Our guide took
us to the same house; and although His Worship, who had a
better supply of maize for the horses, and a few more
chickens to sell than the other natives, was
anxious to
accommodate us, the four Americans, a very rough-looking lot
and armed to the teeth, wouldn't hear of it, but peremptorily
bade us put up
elsewhere. Our own American, who was much
afraid of them, obeyed their commands without more ado. It
made not the slightest difference to us, for one grass
hammock is as soft as another, and the Alcalde's chickens
were as tough as ours.
Before the morning start, two of the diggers, rifles in hand,
came over to us and
plainly told us they objected to our
company. Fred, with perfect good
humour,
assured them we had
no thought of robbing them, and that as the villages were so
far apart we had no choice in the matter. However, as they
wished to travel separate from us, if there should be two
villages at all within
suitable distances, they could stop at
one and we at the other. There the matter rested. But our
guide was more frightened than ever. They were four to two,
he argued, for neither he nor the Mexican were armed. And
there was no
saying, etc., etc. . . . In short we had better
stay where we were till they got through. Fred laughed at