CHAPTER ELEVEN.
GOLD-WASHING--OUR ADVENTURERS COUNT THEIR GAINS, AND ARE SATISFIED--THE"R'YAL BANK O' CALYFORNY" BEGINS TO PROSPER--FRYING GOLD--NIGHT VISIT TOTHE GRAVE OF A MURDERED MAN--A MURDERER CAUGHT--THE ESCAPE AND PURSUIT.
Having escaped from the Yankee land-shark, as has been related, ouradventurers spent the remainder of the day in watching the variousprocesses of digging and washing out gold, in imbibing valuable lessons,and in selecting a spot for their future residence.
The two processes in vogue at Little Creek at that time were the _pan_and the _cradle_ washing. The former has been already adverted to, andwas much practised because the ground at that time was rich in theprecious metal and easily wrought; the extreme simplicity, too, of theoperation, which only required that the miner should possess a pick, ashovel, and a tin pan, commended it to men who were anxious to begin atonce. An expert man, in favourable ground, could gather and wash apanful of "dirt," as it is called, every ten minutes; and there were fewplaces in Little Creek that did not yield half-a-dollar or more to thepanful, thus enabling the digger to work out gold-dust to the value ofabout twenty-five dollars, (five pounds sterling), every day, whileoccasionally he came upon a lump or nugget, equal, perhaps, to what hecould produce by the steady labour of a week or more.
Many of the more energetic miners, however, 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, thecradle-owners obtained ample remuneration for their toil.
The cradle is a very simple machine, being a semicircular trough,hollowed out of a log, from five to six feet long by sixteen inches indiameter. At one end of this is a perforated copper or iron plate, witha rim of wood round it, on which the "dirt" is thrown, and water pouredthereon by one man, while the cradle is rocked by another. The gold andgravel are thus separated from the larger stones, and washed down thetrough, in which, at intervals, two transverse bars, half-an-inch high,are placed; the first of these arrests the gold, which, from its greatweight, sinks to the bottom, while the gravel and lighter substances areswept away by the current. The lower bar catches any particles of goldthat, by awkward management, may have passed the upper one. Three menusually worked together at a rocker, one digging, one carrying the"dirt" in a bucket, and one rocking the cradle.
The black sand, which, along with the gold, is usually left after allthe washing and rocking processes are completed, is too heavy to beseparated by means of washing. It has therefore to be blown away fromthe gold after the mass has been dried over a fire, and in thisoperation great care is requisite lest the finer particles of goldshould be blown off along with it.
The spot fixed on as the future residence of our friends was a levelpatch of greensward about a stone-cast from the banks of the stream, andtwice that distance from the lowest cabin of the colony, which wasseparated and concealed from them by a group of wide-spreading oaks andother trees. A short distance behind the spot the mountains ascended insteep wooded slopes, and, just in front, the cliffs of the oppositehills rose abruptly from the edge of the stream, but a narrow ravine,that split them in a transverse manner, afforded a peep into the hillsbeyond. At evening, when the rest of the vale of Little Creek wasshrouded in gloom, this ravine permitted the last beams of the settingsun to stream through and flood their encampment with rosy light.
Here the tent was pitched, and a fire kindled by Tom Collins, he beingintrusted with the command of the party, whose duty it was to preparethe camp. This party included Bill Jones, Maxton, and the vaquero.Ned, the captain, and Larry O'Neil went, under the guidance of McLeod,to select a claim, and take lessons in washing.
"This seems a likely spot," said the Scotchman, as he led his newacquaintances down to the stream, a few yards below their encampment."You may claim as much ground as you please, for there is room enoughand to spare for all at the Creek yet. I would recommend a piece ofground of ten or twelve feet square for each to begin with."
"Here is a level patch that I shall appropriate, then," said Ned,smiling at the idea of becoming so suddenly and easily a landedproprietor--and to such an extent.
"I suppose we don't require to make out title-deeds!" remarked thecaptain.
"There's _my_ title dade," cried Larry, driving his pick into the earth.
"You are right, Larry," said McLeod, laughing, "no other deed isrequired in this delightfully-free country."
"Ah! thin, it's quite to my taste; sure I niver thought to see the swatespot where I could pick out me property an' pick up me fortin' so aisy."
"Don't count your chickens quite so fast," said Ned, "may be it won't beso easy as you think. But let us begin and ascertain the value of ourclaims; I vote that Larry shall have the honour of washing out the firstpanful of gold, as a reward for his enthusiasm."
"A very proper obsarvation," remarked the Irishman, as he commenced workwithout further delay.
In the course of ten minutes part of the layer of surface-earth wasremoved, revealing the bluish-clay soil in which gold was usually found;the pan was filled with this "pay-dirt," as it was called, incontradistinction to the "surface-dirt," which didn't "pay," and wastaken down to the stream, where Larry washed it out under the eye ofMcLeod; but he did it clumsily, as might be expected, and lost aconsiderable amount of valuable material. Still, for a first attempt,it was pretty well done, and his companions watched the result withfeelings of excited earnestness, that they felt half-ashamed to admiteven to themselves. There was mingled with this feeling a sort of vagueincredulity, and a disposition to ridicule the idea that they wereactually endeavouring to wash gold out of the ground; but when Larry'spanful began to diminish, and the black sand appeared, sparkling withunmistakeably-brilliant particles of reddish-yellow metal, they feltthat the golden dream was in truth becoming a sober reality.
As the process proceeded, and the precious metal began to appear,Larry's feelings found vent in abrupt remarks.
"Och! av me tshoo eyes--musha! there it is--goold intirely--av it isn'tbrass. Ah ye purty little stars!--O Larry, it's yerself as'll buy yerowld mother a pig, an' a coach to boot. Hooroo! Mr Scotchman, Imisremimber yer name, wot's that?"
Larry started up in excitement, and held up between his fore-finger andthumb what appeared to be a small stone.
"Ha! friend, you're in luck. That's a small nugget," replied McLeod,examining the lump of gold. "It's worth ten dollars at least. I haveworked often two or three weeks at a time without coming on such a chunkas that."
"Ye don't mane it! eh! Och! give it me. Hooray!" and the Irishman,seizing the little lump with trembling eagerness, rushed off, shoutingand yelling, towards the camp to make his good fortune known to BillJones, leaving the pan of black sand unheeded. This Ned took up, andtried his hand at the work of washing. When done, the residue was foundto be exceedingly rich, so he and the captain proceeded without loss oftime to test their separate claims. Soon after, their obliging friend,the miner, returned to his own claim further down the valley, leavingthem hard at work.
That night, when the bright stars twinkled down upon the camp at LittleCreek, our gold-hunters, wet and tired, but hearty and hopeful,assembled round the fire in front of their little tent among theoak-trees.
The entire party was assembled there, and they were gazing earnestly, asmight be expected of hungry men, into the frying-pan. But they did notgaze at _supper_. No, that night the first thing they fried was amixture of black sand and gold. In fact, they were drying and blowingthe result of their first day's work at the diggings, and their friendthe Scotch miner was there to instruct them in the various processes oftheir new profession, and to weigh the gold for them, in his little pairof scales, when it should be finally cleared of all grosser substances.
As each panful was dried and blown, the gold was weighed, and put into alarge white breakfast cup, the bottom of which was soon heaped up withshining particles
, varying in size from the smallest visible speck, tolittle lumps like grains of corn.
"Bravo!" exclaimed McLeod, as he weighed the last pan, and added thegold to that already in the cup. "I congratulate you, gentlemen, onyour success. The day's work is equal to one hundred and eightydollars--about thirty dollars per man. Few men are so lucky their firstday, I assure you, unless, as has been the case once or twice theyshould hit upon a nugget or two."
"That being the case, we shall have supper," cried Ned Sinton; "andwhile we are about it, do you go, Larry, to mine host of the hotel, andpay for the dinner for which he gave us credit. I don't wish to remainan hour in debt, if I can avoid it."
"Mister McLeod," slowly said Bill Jones--who, during the whole operationof drying and weighing the gold, had remained seated on a log, lookingon with an expression of imbecile astonishment, and without uttering aword--"Mister McLeod, if I may make bold to ax, how much is one hundredand eighty dollars?"
Bill's calculating powers were of the weakest possible character.
"About thirty-six pounds sterling," replied McLeod. Bill's eyes werewide open before, but the extent to which he opened them on hearing thiswas quite alarming, and suggested the idea that they would never closeagain. The same incapacity to calculate figures rendered him unable tograsp correlative facts. He knew that thirty-six pounds in one day wasa more enormous and sudden accumulation of wealth than had ever enteredinto his nautical mind to conceive of. But to connect this with thefact that a voyage and journey of many months had brought him there;that a similar journey and voyage would be required to reconduct himhome; and that in the meantime he would have to pay perhaps five poundssterling for a flannel shirt, and probably four pounds or more for apair of boots, and everything else in proportion, was to his limitedintellectual capacity a simple impossibility. He contented himself withremarking, in reference to these things, that "w'en things in gin'ralwos more nor ord'nar'ly oncommon, an' w'en incomprehensibles was blowin'a reg'lar hurricane astarn, so that a man couldn't hold on to thebelayin'-pins he'd bin used to, without their breakin' short off an'lettin' him go spin into the lee-scuppers,--why wot then? a wise man'scourse wos to take in all sail, an' scud before it under bare poles."
Next day all the miners in the colony were up and at work by dawn. Nedand his friends, you may be sure, were not last to leave their beds andcommence digging in their separate claims, which they resolved to workout by means of pan-washing, until they made a little ready cash, afterwhich they purposed constructing two rockers, and washing out the goldmore systematically and profitably.
They commenced by removing the surface-soil to the depth of about threefeet, a work of no small labour, until the subsoil, or "pay-dirt," wasreached. Of this they dug out a small quantity, and washed it; put theproduce of black sand and gold into leathern bags, and then, digging outanother panful, washed it as before. Thus they laboured till noon, whenthey rested for an hour and dined. Then they worked on again untilnight and exhaustion compelled them to desist; when they returned tocamp, dried and blew away the sand, weighed the gold, which was putcarefully into a general purse--named by Larry the "R'yal Bank o'Calyforny"--after which they supped, and retired to rest.
The gold was found at various depths, the "dirt" on the bed-rock beingthe richest, as gold naturally, in consequence of its weight, sinksthrough all other substances, until arrested in its downward career bythe solid rock.
Of course, the labour was severe to men unaccustomed to the peculiar andconstant stooping posture they were compelled to adopt, and on thesecond morning more than one of the party felt as if he had been seizedwith lumbago, but this wore off in the course of a day or two.
The result of the second day was about equal to that of the first; theresult of the third a good deal better, and Bill, who was fortunateenough to discover a small nugget, returned to camp with aself-satisfied swagger that indicated elation, though his visageexpressed nothing but stolidity, slightly tinged with surprise. On thefourth day the cradles were made, and a very large portion of theirgains thereby swept away in consequence of the unconscionable pricescharged for every article used in their construction. However, thismattered little, Maxton said, as the increased profits of their labourwould soon repay the outlay. And he was right. On the fifth day theirreturns were more than trebled, and that evening the directors of the"R'yal Bank o' Calyforny" found themselves in possession of capitalamounting to one thousand one hundred and fifty dollars, or, as TomCollins carefully explained to Bill, about 230 pounds.
On the sixth day, however, which was Saturday, Larry O'Neil, who waspermitted to work with the pan in the meantime, instead of assistingwith the cradles, came up to dinner with a less hearty aspect thanusual, and at suppertime he returned with a terribly lugubrious visageand a totally empty bag. In fact his claim had become suddenlyunproductive.
"Look at that," he cried, swaggering recklessly into camp, and throwingdown his bag; "I haven't got a rap; faix the bag's as empty as myintarior."
"What! have you worked out your claim already!" inquired Maxton.
"Troth have I, and almost worked out me own body too."
"Well, Larry, don't lose heart," said Ned, as he dried the last panfulof sand over the fire, "there are plenty more claims beside your presentone. We, too, have not been as successful as before. I find the resultis only fifty dollars amongst us all."
"That's a sudden falling off," remarked Tom Collins; "I fear the`pay-dirt' is not deep near us, nevertheless it pays well enough to keepus going for some time to come. I shall mark off a new space onMonday."
"By the way, Maxton," asked Ned, handing over the frying-pan to Collins,who soon filled it with a less valuable, but at that time not lessneedful commodity than gold-dust--namely, pork and beef--"how do theminers spend the Sabbath here? I suppose not much better than in thecities."
"Here comes McLeod, who will be better able to answer than I am,"replied Maxton.
The Scot strode into the camp as he spoke, and, saluting the party,seated himself beside the fire.
"I've come to tell you a piece of news, and to ask advice," he said;"but before doing so, I may tell you, in answer to your question, thatthe Sabbath here is devoted to drinking, gambling, and loafing about."
"I am not surprised to hear it," said Captain Bunting; "but pray what'si' the wind? Any new diggin's discovered?"
"A new digging certainly has been discovered," replied McLeod, with apeculiar smile, "but not precisely such a digging as one is wont tosearch for. The fact is, that in prospecting along the edge of thewoods about a mile from this to-day, I came upon the body of a murderedman. It was covered with stones and branches of trees, which I removed,and I immediately recognised it to be that of a poor man who used towork not far from my own claim. I had missed him for more than a weekpast, but supposed that he had either gone to other diggings, or wasaway prospecting."
"Poor fellow!" said Ned; "but how, in such a matter, can _we_ help youwith advice?"
"Well, you see I'm in difficult circumstances," rejoined the Scot, "forI feel certain that I could point out the murderer, yet I cannot _prove_him to be such, and I want your advice as to what I should do."
"Let it be known at once that you have discovered the murdered man atany rate," said Maxton.
"That I have done already."
"Who do you think was the murderer?" inquired Ned.
"A man who used to live in the same tent with him at one time, but whoquarrelled with him frequently, and at last went off in a rage. I knownot what was the cause, but I heard him vow that he would be revenged.He was a great coarse fellow, more like a brute than a man, with a blackbeard, and the most forbidding aspect I think I ever saw."
"Wot wos his name?" inquired Bill Jones, while the party looked at eachother as if they knew of such a character.
"Smith was the name he went by oftenest, but the diggers called himBlack Jim sometimes."
"Ha! Smith--black beard--forbidding aspect! It strikes me that I toohav
e seen the man," said Ned Sinton, who related to McLeod the visitpaid to them in their camp by the surly stranger. While he wasspeaking, Larry O'Neil sat pondering something in his mind.
"Mister McLeod," said he, when Ned concluded, "will ye shew me the bodyo' this man? faix, I'm of opinion I can prove the murder; but, first ofall, how is the black villain to be diskivered?"
"No difficulty about that. He is even now in the colony. I saw him ina gambling-house half-an-hour since. My fear is that, now the murder'sout, he'll bolt before we can secure him."
"It's little trouble we'd have in preventin' that," suggested Larry.
"The consequences might be more serious, however, than you imagine.Suppose you were to seize and accuse him, and fail to prove the murder,the jury would acquit him, and the first thing he would do, on being setfree, would be to shoot you, for which act the morality of the minerswould rather applaud him than otherwise. It is only on cold-blooded,unprovoked murder and theft that Judge Lynch is severe. It is arecognised rule here, that if a man, in a row, should merely make a_motion_ with his hand towards his pistol, his opponent is entitled toshoot him first if he can. The consequence is, that _bloody_ quarrelsare very rare."
"Niver a taste do I care," cried Larry; "they may hang me tshoo timesover, but I'll prove the murder, an' nab the murderin' blackguard too."
"Have a care," said Ned; "you'll get yourself into a scrape."
"Make sure you are right before you act," added Maxton. Larry O'Neilpaid no attention to these warnings. "Are ye ready to go, MisterMcLeod?" said he, impatiently.
"Quite," replied the other.
"Then come along." And the two left the camp together, armed with theirrifles, knives, revolvers, and a shovel.
It was a dark night. Heavy clouds obscured the face of the sky, throughwhich only one or two stars struggled faintly, and rendered darknessvisible. The two men passed rapidly along the little footpath that ledfrom the colony to the more open country beyond. This gained, theyturned abruptly to the right, and, entering a narrow defile, proceededat a more cautious pace into the gloomy recesses of the mountains.
"Have a care, Larry O'Neil," whispered the Scotchman, as they advanced;"the road is not so safe here, owing to a number of pits which have beenmade by diggers after gold--they lie close to the edge of the path, andare pretty deep."
"All right; I'm lookin' out," replied Larry, groping his way after hiscomrade, at the base of a steep precipice.
"Here is the place," said McLeod, stopping and pushing aside the busheswhich lined the path. "Keep close to me--there is no road."
"Are ye sure o' the spot?" inquired Larry, in an undertone, while afeeling of awe crept over him at the thought of being within a few yardsof a murdered man in such a dark, wild place.
"Quite sure. I have marked the trees. See there!" He pointed to awhite spot on the stem of a tree, where a chip had been cut off, andclose to which was a mound of earth and stones. This mound the two menproceeded to break up, and in less than ten minutes they disentombed thebody from its shallow grave, and commenced to examine the fatal wound.It was in an advanced state of decomposition, and they hurried theprocess by the light of a bright solitary star, whose flickering rayspierced through the overspreading branches and fell upon the ghastlycountenance of the murdered man.
While thus occupied, they were startled by the sound of breaking twigs,as if some one were slowly approaching; whispering voices were alsoheard.
"It must be hereabouts," said a voice in a low tone; "he pointed out theplace."
"Ho!" cried McLeod, who, with Larry, had seized and cocked his rifle,"is that you, Webster?"
"Halloo! McLeod, where are you?"
In another moment a party of miners broke through the underwood, talkingloudly, but they dropped their voices to a whisper on beholding the deadbody.
"Whist, boys," said Larry, holding up his hand. "We've jist got hold o'the bullet. It's flattened the least thing, but the size is easy tosee. There's a wound over the heart, too, made with a knife; now that'swot I want to get at the bottom of, but I don't like to use me own knifeto cut down."
As none of the others felt disposed to lend their knives for such apurpose, they looked at each other in silence.
"Mayhap," said the rough-looking miner who had been hailed by McLeod asWebster--"mayhap the knife o' the corpse is lyin' about."
The suggestion was a happy one. After a few minutes' search the rustyknife of the murdered man was discovered, and with this Larry succeededin extracting from the wound over the heart of the body a piece ofsteel, which had evidently been broken off the point of the knife, withwhich the poor wretch had been slain. Larry held it up with a look oftriumph.
"I'll soon shew ye who's the murderer now, boys, av ye'll help me tofill up the grave."
This was speedily accomplished; then the miners, hurrying in silencefrom the spot, proceeded to the chief hotel of the place, in thegambling-saloon of which they found the man Smith, _alias_ Black Jim,surrounded by gamblers, and sitting on a corner of the monte tablewatching the game. Larry went up to him at once, and, seizing him bythe collar, exclaimed--"I've got ye, have I, ye murderer, ye blackvillain! Come along wid ye, and git yer desarts--call a coort, boys,an' sot up Judge Lynch."
Instantly the saloon was in an uproar. Smith turned pale as death for amoment, but the blood returned with violence to his brazen forehead; heseized Larry by the throat, and a deadly struggle would speedily havetaken place between the two powerful men had not Ned Sinton entered atthe moment, and, grasping Smith's arms in his Herculean gripe, renderedhim helpless.
"What, comrades," cried Black Jim, with an oath, and looking fiercelyround, "will ye see a messmate treated like this? I'm no murderer, an'I defy any one to prove it."
There was a move among the miners, and a voice was heard to speak ofrescuing the prisoner.
"Men," cried Ned, still holding Smith, and looking round upon the crowd,"men--"
"I guess there are no men here," interrupted a Yankee; "we're all_gentlemen_."
"Being a man does not incapacitate one from being a gentleman," saidNed, sharply, with a look of scorn at the speaker, who deemed itadvisable to keep silence.
After a moment's pause, he continued--"If this _gentleman_ has done noevil, I and my friends will be answerable to him for what we have done;but my comrade, Larry O'Neil, denounces him as a murderer; and says hecan prove it. Surely the law of the mines and fair play demand that heshould be tried!"
"Hear! hear! well said. Git up a bonfire, and let's have it out," criedseveral voices, approvingly.
The miners rushed out, dragging Black Jim along with them to an openlevel space in front of the hotel, where stood a solitary oak-tree, fromone of whose sturdy arms several offenders against the laws of thegold-mines had, at various times, swung in expiation of their crimes.Here an immense fire was kindled, and hither nearly all the miners ofthe neighbourhood assembled.
Black Jim was placed under the branch, from which depended part of therope that had hanged the last criminal. His rifle, pistols, and knife,were taken from him, amid protestations of innocence, and imprecationson the heads of his accusers. Then a speech was made by an orator whowas much admired at the place, but whose coarse language would scarcelyhave claimed admiration in any civilised community. After this LarryO'Neil stepped forward with McLeod, and the latter described all he knewof the former life of the culprit, and his conduct towards the murderedman. When he had finished, Larry produced the bullet, which wascompared with the rifle and the bullets in Smith's pouch, and pronouncedsimilar to the latter. At this, several of the miners cried out,"Guilty, guilty; string him up at once!"
"There are other rifles with the same bore," said Smith. "I used tothink Judge Lynch was just, but he's no better I find than theland-sharks elsewhere. Hang me if you like, but if ye do, instead o'gittin' rid o' one murderer, ye'll fill the Little Creek with murderersfrom end to end. My blood will be on _your_ heads."
"Save y
er breath," said Larry, drawing Smith's knife from its scabbard."See here, boys, sure two dovetails niver fitted closer than this bit o'steel fits the pint o' Black Jim's knife. Them men standin' beside mecan swear they saw me take it out o' the breast o' the morthered man,an' yerselves know that this is the murderer's knife."
Almost before Larry had concluded, Smith, who felt that his doom wassealed, exerted all his strength, burst from the men who held him, anddarted like an arrow towards that part of the living circle which seemedweakest. Most of the miners shrank back--only one man ventured tooppose the fugitive; but he was driven down with such violence, that helay stunned on the sward, while Smith sprang like a goat up the steepface of the adjacent precipice. A dozen rifles instantly poured forththeir contents, and the rocks rang with the leaden hail; but the aim hadbeen hurried, and the light shed by the fire at that distance wasuncertain.
The murderer, next moment, stood on the verge of the precipice, fromwhich he wrenched a mass of rock, and, shouting defiance, hurled itback, with a fearful imprecation, at his enemies. The rock fell intothe midst of them, and fractured the skull of a young man, who fell witha groan to the earth. Smith, who paused a moment to witness the resultof his throw, uttered a yell of exultation, and darted into themountains, whither, for hours after, he was hotly pursued by the enragedminers. But one by one they returned to the Creek exhausted, andtelling the same tale--"Black Jim had made his escape."
The Golden Dream: Adventures in the Far West Page 11
