William’s Creek, Cariboo--The Discoverers--The Position and
Nature of the Gold Country--Geological Features--The Cariboo
District--Hunting the Gold up the Fraser to Cariboo--
Conjectured Position of the Auriferous Quartz Veins--Various
kinds of Gold--Drawbacks to Mining in Cariboo--The Cause of
its Uncertainty--Extraordinary Richness of the Diggings--“The
Way the Money Goes”--Miners’ Eccentricities--Our Quarters at
Cusheon’s--Price of Provisions--The Circulating Medium--Down
in the Mines--Profits and Expenses--The “Judge”--Our Farewell
Dinner--The Company--Dr. B----l waxes Eloquent--Dr. B----k’s
Noble Sentiments--The Evening’s Entertainment--Dr. B----l
Retires, but is heard of again--General Confusion--The Party
Breaks Up--Leave Cariboo--Boating down the Fraser--Camping
Out--William’s Lake--Catastrophe on the River--The Express
Wagon--Difficulties on the Way--The Express-man prophesies his
own Fate--The Road beyond Lytton--A Break Down--Furious Drive
into Yale--Victoria once more.
William’s Creek takes its name from one of its discoverers, William
Dietz, a Prussian, who, with his companion, a Scotchman, named Rose,
were amongst the most adventurous of the pioneers of the Cariboo
country. Neither of them ever reaped any reward from the discovery of
perhaps the richest creek in the world. When a crowd of miners rushed
to the place, they left in search of fresh diggings. The Scotchman
disappeared for months, and his body was found at length by a party of
miners in a journey of discovery, far out in the Wilds. On the branch
of a tree hard by hung his tin cup, and scratched upon it with the
point of a knife was his name, and the words, “Dying of starvation.”
William Dietz returned unsuccessful to Victoria, and, struck down by
rheumatic fever, was dependent on charity at the time of our visit.
The broken-up and irregular western flank of the Rocky Mountains
appears to be the true gold-bearing region of British Columbia. Gold
has indeed been found in nearly every part of the colony where it
has been looked for, but never in large quantities, except on the
streams issuing from this district, as the Eraser and Columbia with
their tributaries. It has been found also on the eastern slope, on
the North Saskatchewan and Peace Rivers. But the amount obtained on
the Saskatchewan has been inconsiderable; and it is worthy of remark
that, while this river takes its rise just to the west of the middle
line of the main ridge, Peace River, on which rich prospects have been
discovered, has its origin fairly on the western side, flows through
the auriferous tract for a considerable distance, and then turning
east, passes through a wide rent in the Rocky Mountains. In crossing
by the Yellow Head Pass, we met with carboniferous limestone, then
Devonian, and near Robson’s Peak, on the western slope, saw for the
first time the dark slates and schistose rocks, with veins of quartz--
probably of the upper Silurian strata--which mark the auriferous
tract. West of this, an extensive region of what appears to be eruptive
trap commences, and probably continues up to the Cascade, or coast
range, to the westward; while to the south-east it stretches across the
valleys of the Fraser and Thompson to that of the Columbia. The Cascade
Range consists of granitic and plutonic rocks, and in places clay-slate
and semi-crystalline limestones occur.
The district of Cariboo is the richest portion of the British Columbian
gold field, and here the geologic disturbance has been the greatest.
Cariboo is a sea of mountains and pine-clad hills, the former rising to
a height of 7,000 or 8,000 feet, surrounded by a confused congeries of
the latter. Everywhere the surface has been disturbed, so that hardly a
foot of level ground can be found, except at the bottom of the narrow
gullies running between these hills. Strata are tilted on end, and beds
of streams heaved up to the tops of hills. Round this centre of wealth
poured up from the depths below, the main branch of the Fraser wraps
itself in its semi-circular course, and has received from thence, by
numerous tributaries, the gold found in its sands.
Gold was first discovered on the sand-bars of the Lower Fraser, in
the state of the finest dust. The old miners of California traced it
up the river, and followed it as it became of coarser and coarser
grain 400 miles along the Fraser, and then up the small affluents from
Cariboo. Here were found nuggets, and lumps of auriferous quartz.
The hunted metal was almost run to earth. But the exciting pursuit
is not yet quite over. The veins of auriferous quartz have not, so
far, been discovered, although conjecture points to their probable
position. Lightning, Antler, Keighley’s, William’s Creek, and many
others, all take their rise in a range known as the Bald Mountains, and
most of them radiate from one of them, the Snow-Shoe Mountain. Here
the matrix is presumed to lie, and although it may have been denuded
of its richest portion, carried down as the drift gold of the creeks,
fortunes still lie hid in the solid rock; and when the quartz-leads
are discovered, British Columbia may emulate California in wealth and
stability. The hundreds of mills in that country, crushing thousands of
tons of gold and silver quartz per day, have proved that this branch
of mining is far more paying and reliable than the uncertain and
evanescent surface diggings, which formerly there, as now in Cariboo,
furnished all the gold obtained. Several different qualities of gold
are found in Cariboo. In William’s Creek alone, two distinct “leads”
are found; one where the gold is alloyed with a considerable proportion
of silver, the other higher coloured and much purer. All the gold of
this creek is battered and water-worn, as if it had been carried some
distance from the original bed. At Lowhee, only three miles distant,
it is found in larger nuggets, less altered by the action of water,
and almost pure. On Lightning Creek the gold is smaller, much more
water-worn, but of the first quality.
The great drawbacks to the mining in this district are, the nature of
the country, the mountains and dense forest forming great obstacles
to proper investigation, and rendering the transport of provisions
and other necessaries exceedingly costly; the long and severe winter,
which prevents the working of the mines from October until June; and
the great geological disturbances which have taken place, although
they doubtless are one cause of its exceeding richness, render the
following of the “leads” very difficult and uncertain. The two
former disadvantages will be removed ere long by the clearing of the
country, the formation of roads, and the employment of steam power to
drain the shafts. The difficulties encountered in tracing the course
of the gold are more serious; but more accurate knowledge of the
geological formation will give greater certainty to the search. At
present the changes which have taken place in the face of the country
continually upset the most acute calculations. The drift gold carried
down the streams settled on the solid “bed rock,” or in the blue clay
immediately above it, and has been covered by the gravel accumulated in
after times. Now, if the streams ran in exactly the same channels as
they did when the gold came down, the matter would be simple enough.
But great changes have taken place since then. At one point an enormous
slide has occurred, covering in the channel, and forcing the stream to
find a new course. At another, some convulsion appears to have upheaved
a portion of the old bed high and dry. In the first case the “lead” is
found to run into the mountain side; in the other it scales the hill.
But these eccentricities are only discovered by experiment, and many
a miner works for weeks to sink his shaft of thirty or forty feet, to
find nothing at the end of his labour. His neighbour above or below may
perhaps be making £1,000 a day, but the creek ran not through his claim
in these past ages when it washed down the auriferous _débris_. More
fortunate men, however, who, in mining phrase, “hit a streak,” often
make large fortunes in Cariboo in an incredibly short space of time.
The extraordinary yield of the Cariboo mines may be inferred from the
fact that in 1861 the whole of the colonies of British Columbia and
Vancouver Island were almost entirely supported by the gold obtained
from Antler Creek alone; and from that time to the present year, or
for four years in succession, William’s Creek has also alone sustained
more than 16,000 people, some of whom have left the country with large
fortunes. And yet William’s Creek is a mere narrow ravine, worked for
little more than two miles of its length, and that in the roughest
manner. The miners are destitute of steam power, and many requisites
for efficient mining; and all that has been done hitherto has been mere
scratching in the dark.
Out of many instances of the wonderful richness of these diggings it
may be mentioned that Cunningham’s Claim yielded, on an average, nearly
2,000 dollars, or £400 a day, during the whole season; and another,
Dillon’s Claim, gave the enormous amount of 102 lbs. of gold, or nearly
£4,000 in one day. One hundred feet of the Cameron Claim, held in the
name of another man, produced 120,000 dollars.
The wealth thus rapidly obtained is generally dissipated almost as
quickly. The lucky miner hastens down to Victoria or San Francisco,
and sows his gold broadcast. No luxury is too costly for him, no
extravagance too great for the magnitude of his ideas. His love of
display leads him into a thousand follies, and he proclaims his
disregard for money by numberless eccentricities. One man who, at
the end of the season found himself possessed of 30,000 or 40,000
dollars, having filled his pockets with twenty-dollar gold pieces, on
his arrival in Victoria proceeded to a “bar-room,” and treated “the
crowd” to champagne. The company present being unable to consume all
the bar-keeper’s stock, assistance was obtained from without, and the
passers-by compelled to come in. Still the supply held out, and not
another “drink” could any one swallow. In this emergency the ingenious
giver of the treat ordered every glass belonging to the establishment
to be brought out and filled. Then raising his stick, with one fell
swoop he knocked the army of glasses off the counter. One hamper of
champagne, however, yet remained, and, determined not to be beaten,
he ordered it to be opened and placed upon the floor, and jumping in,
stamped the bottles to pieces beneath his heavy boots, severely cutting
his shins, it is said, in the operation. But although the champagne
was at last finished, he had a handful of gold pieces to dispose of,
and walking up to a large mirror, worth several hundred dollars, which
adorned one end of the room, dashed a shower of heavy coins against
it, and shivered it to pieces. The hero of this story returned to the
mines in the following spring without a cent, and was working as a
common labourer at the time of our visit. A freak of one of the most
successful Californians may be appended as a companion to the story
just related. When in the height of his glory he was in the habit
of substituting champagne bottles--full ones, too--for the wooden
pins in the bowling alley, smashing batch after batch with infinite
satisfaction to himself, amid the applause of his companions and the
“bar-keep.”
Our quarters at Cusheon’s Hotel were vile. A blanket spread on the
floor of a loft was our bedroom, but the swarms of lice which infested
the place rendered sleep almost impossible, and made us think with
regret on the soft turf of the prairie, or a mossy couch in the
woods. The fare, limited to beefsteaks, bread, and dried apples, was
wretchedly cooked and frightfully expensive. Beef was worth fifty cents
or two shillings a pound, flour the same, a “drink” of anything except
water was half a dollar, nor could the smallest article, even a box of
matches, be bought for less than a “quarter”--one shilling. Before
we reached William’s Creek we paid a dollar and a quarter, or five
shillings, for a single bottle of stout.
Coin of any kind is rarely seen, gold-dust being the circulating
medium, and each person carries a small bag of it, from which the
requisite quantity is weighed out for each payment.
[Illustration: MINERS WASHING FOR GOLD.
(_See page 372._)
]
In the mines we visited at Cameron Town the “pay-dirt,” as the
stratum of clay and gravel above the “bed-rock” in which the gold
lies is called, was from thirty to fifty feet below the surface. A
shaft is sunk to the required depth, and the “dirt” carried up by a
bucket raised by a windlass. This is emptied into a long box, called
the dump-box or “long tom,” having a false bottom of parallel bars,
with narrow spaces between them, raised a few inches above the true
bottom, across which several cross pieces are placed. A stream of
water, brought in a series of troughs called “flumes,” sometimes for
a considerable distance, pours into the dump-box at one end, and runs
out by another series of troughs at the other. As the dirt is emptied
in, a man armed with a large many-pronged fork stirs it up continually,
and removes the larger stones. The smaller particles and the clay are
carried down the stream, while the gold, from its greater weight, falls
through the spaces between the parallel bars of the false bottom,
and is arrested by the transverse ones or “riffle” of the true one.
The “pay-dirt” is generally not more than from three to five feet
thick, and the galleries of the mine are consequently very low, the
roof being propped up by upright timbers, and cross beams wedged in
above. The water is pumped out of the mines by a water wheel and chain
pump, but these are quite useless in winter, and become covered with
enormous icicles. One or two were still kept working, even at this
late season, by help of fires and roofing over. The Cameron, Raby, and
Caledonian Claims, three of the richest in William’s Creek, were, by
good luck, still in full swing, and we frequently went down with some
of the happy proprietors, and crept about the low dripping galleries,
washed for gold, or picked out the rich “pockets” formed under some
arresting boulder. In many places we could see the glistening yellow,
but generally it was imperceptible, even in the richest dirt. Mr.
Steele, of the Cameron Claim, kindly showed us the Company’s books,
from which it appeared that the yield varied from 40 to 112 oz. a shaft
in the day, and there were three shafts, making £2,000 to £5,000 per
week altogether. But the expenses were very heavy, averaging 7,000
dollars a week, or about £1,500. Eighty men were employed, at wages
ranging from ten to sixteen dollars a day, or £2 to £3, and this alone
would reach £1,208.
At noon, each day, the dump-boxes are emptied, and the gold separated
from the black sand which is always mixed with it. At the “washing-up”
of one shaft of the Raby Claim, which we saw, the gold filled one of
the tin cases used for preserved meats, holding nearly a quart, the
value of about £1,000 for fifteen hours’ work! Amongst the gold were
several shillings and quarter dollars, which had dropped out of the
men’s pockets, and turned up again in the dump-box.
After going through the mines on William’s Creek, we walked over the
hill to Lowhee, a smaller creek, lying about three miles off in a yet
narrower ravine. The workings were very similar, but the gold was
richer and brighter, the pieces more jagged and angular, as if they had
not been carried very far from the original quartz reef. The Lowhee
gold is very pure, being ·920 against ·830 of William’s Creek.
Before taking leave of Cariboo, we must not forget to mention glorious
“Judge” Cox, magistrate and gold commissioner there, prime favourite
of all the miners, and everybody’s friend. The “judge,” as he is
invariably called, after Yankee fashion, decides the cases brought
before him by common sense; and, strange to say, both winners and
losers, fascinated by the man, appear to be equally delighted with his
judgments. We received much kindness from him, and spent many pleasant
hours in his genial society.
Nor would it be just to leave unnoticed the sumptuous dinner at which
we were entertained on the eve of our departure. The giver of the
feast, Dr. B----k, selected the ward of the hospital as an appropriate
dining-room, the single unfortunate patient in at the time being veiled
from sight by a sheet of green baize suspended from the wall. We had
soup, roast beef, boiled mutton, and plum pudding, with abundance of
champagne. The company was somewhat mixed, yet all fraternised with
easy cordiality. We had Mr. C----, manager of the Cariboo branch of
the ---- Bank, a gentleman of solemn aspect, and with a large
bald head, who wore spectacles, dressed in frock-coat, represented
respectability, and spoke on all points with authority; Mr. B. ----,
an old Hudson’s Bay man, highly convivial, delighting in harmony; Dr.
B----l, a medical gentleman, afflicted with the “_cacoethes bibendi_,”
as well as “_loquendi_”--a lean little fellow, with a large mouth,
who appeared in the full glory of a swallow-tailed coat, and was
perpetually smiling, yet, in reality, taking a gloomy view of things
in general; Mr. C----, a young lawyer, Irish and impressionable; Billy
Ferren, a successful miner, from his loquacity nicknamed “Billy the
Bladge,” rough, noisy, breaking forth into shouts and laughter; Dr.
B----k’s assistant, quiet and generally useful; and lastly, the lady of
the party, Mrs. Morris, more generally known by her Christian name of
Janet, fair, fat, and forty, and proprietor of a neighbouring house of
refreshment. She had kindly come in to cook the dinner, and when that
was duly set forth, she yielded to popular clamour, and joined us at
the table.
[Illustration: THE CAMERON “CLAIM,” WILLIAM’S CREEK, CARIBOO.
(_See page 373._)
]
Before the cloth was drawn--metaphorically--_i.e._, whilst we were
still occupied with plum pudding, Dr. B----l, who had shown symptoms of
restlessness for some time, could repress the flood of eloquence rising
within him no longer, and having succeeded in catching the president’s
eye, and received a permissive nod in return, rose cautiously on his
legs. A vigorous rapping on the table procured silence, and Dr. B----l,
steadying himself by the table with one tremulous hand, and waving
the other gracefully towards ourselves, while the ever-beaming smile
irradiated his countenance, proposed Milton’s health in most glowing
terms, winding up his panegyric with a request for three-times-three,
and “He’s a jolly good fellow.” These were given uproariously--the
Hudson’s Bay man leading, and Janet bringing in an effective soprano.
The eloquent Dr. B----l again rose, and proposed the health of the
other visitor in similar eulogistic terms, and that was drunk with
all the honours. When thanks had been returned by the honoured guests
in an appropriate manner, the irrepressible Dr. B----l rose for the
third time, and with grave countenance reproached the host for his
reprehensible neglect in omitting to propose the health of Her Most
Gracious Majesty the Queen. Dr. B----k felt humiliated; and although
urging in extenuation the precipitation with which his friend had
proposed the other toasts, fully acknowledged the gross disloyalty of
which he had been unintentionally guilty. He trusted the circumstance
might never come to Her Majesty’s knowledge; and he could assure the
company that the spark of loyalty never burnt brighter in any breast
than his. From his childhood he had been ready--nay, he might say
_wishful_--to die for his Queen and country. Animated by that desire,
he had gone out with the British army to the Crimea, and now, marching
in the van of civilisation in Cariboo, he was ready to die in the
cause.
When Her Majesty’s health had been drunk amidst hearty applause, we
adjourned to the kitchen. More healths were drunk. Janet made a very
pretty speech, and presented Milton with a handsome nugget; Billy
Ferren followed suit with a second. Then each gave one to Cheadle
with similar ceremony. The irrepressible Dr. B----l rose every few
minutes to propose anew the health of one or other of the “illustrious
travellers,” and was remorselessly sung down by the equally
indefatigable Hudson’s Bay man, who always had “Annie Laurie” ready
for the emergency, and all joined in the chorus, and the obtrusive
speaker was ultimately overpowered. At last his eyes became glassy,
his smile disappeared, and he sat in his chair gloomily silent. All at
once, however, he got up, and rushing across the room, made ineffectual
attempts to force an exit through the mantelpiece, bobbing against it
very much after the fashion of a bird trying to escape through a pane
of glass; whereupon he was seized by the assistant, and led off into a
bedroom. Cards were now introduced, and we were initiated into “High,
Low, Jack and the Game,” and “Pitch seven up,” but were presently
disturbed by a tremendous crash in the bedroom adjoining; the assistant
ran out, and found Dr. B----l on the floor, having rolled off the bed
into a miscellaneous collection of pots, pans, brushes, and etceteras
which had been put there out of the way.
After this interruption conviviality reigned again. We played “Pitch
seven up” till we were too sleepy to see the cards; the Hudson’s Bay
man tuned up indiscriminately, Janet sang “Auld Robin Gray” five or six
times, “Billy the Bladge” carried on a fierce argument with the manager
of the bank on colonial politics, everybody talked at the same time,
smoked and drank whisky until far on towards daylight, when we turned
out into the cold night with the thermometer standing at five degrees,
and made our way back to Cusheon’s.
On the 30th of October, having spent ten days in William’s Creek, we
resumed our packs, and bade adieu to Cusheon’s, Cameron Town, and Judge
Cox, and started for the Mouth of Quesnelle. The snow had fallen to the
depth of six or seven inches, but this had been well beaten by previous
passengers. We reached the banks of the Fraser in three days, with far
greater ease than we had walked the same distance on our way in. To our
dismay, we found that the steamer to Soda Creek had stopped running for
the winter; but were relieved to learn that an open boat would start
for that place on the following day, in which we took our passages. The
owner of the boat, Mr. McBride, was one of a party which had ascended
the Fraser, and crossed to Peace River by Stuart’s and McLeod’s Lakes,
during the summer. They had followed the Peace River right through
the Rocky Mountains, and as far as Fort Dunegan, on the eastern side.
He described the country on the west of the mountains as resembling
the ordinary Fraser River country; but that to the _east_ of them a
mixture of fine woods and fertile prairies, abounding in game. On the
banks of Smoky River, one of the tributaries of Peace River, numerous
craters were observed, emitting dense volumes of smoke and sulphurous
gases from upwards of thirty funnel-shaped apertures, the size of
ordinary stove-pipes. The banks were in many parts covered with a
deposit of pure sulphur. On Tribe or Nation River, another tributary,
they found slate-rock and quartz veins, and very good diggings on some
of the bars.
The boat in which we embarked was a large, strongly-built one,
constructed on purpose for the journey to Peace River. Forty passengers
were crowded into it, packed close as negroes in a slaver. The day
was very cold, and the snow fell heavily, wetting us through before
long; and the pools of “slush,” which formed at the bottom of the
boat, made our feet ache again with cold. A little below Quesnelle
Mouth is a rather dangerous “riffle,” or rapid, of lumpy water, where
the whirlpool is said to have sucked down canoes head foremost. We
shot this safely, although we shipped some water, and continued to run
down the stream at a great pace, until just after passing Alexandria,
when we stuck fast on a shallow rapid. The boat could not be got off
by any amount of pushing, and McBride called for volunteers to jump
overboard, and lighten the boat. Five or six fellows at once responded,
and as the boat was still immovable, each took another on his back,
and proceeded towards the shore. One little fellow, carrying a huge
six-feet Yankee, stumbled and fell, with his rider; both were soused
overhead, and essayed several times in vain to gain their legs, for the
current was so powerful that it swept them down at each attempt. The
lookers-on roared with laughter, but it was no joke to the sufferers
to be immersed in the icy waters of the Fraser on such a day. The
boat was now lifted off the shallow, the waders re-embarked, and we
continued our course until nearly dark, when McBride proposed to land
and camp for the night, as we were still many miles from Soda Creek,
and there were several awkward rapids before us. A few daredevils voted
for going forward, but the majority decided against it, and we pulled
in to the bank, at a place where there were some large stacks of wood,
cut for the use of the steamer. Every one now tried to strike a light,
but Milton was the first to succeed, and we were soon surrounded by a
circle of roaring fires, at the expense of the owners of the Quesnelle
steamboat. McBride produced some loaves and a flitch of bacon, which
very soon disappeared before the fierce attacks of the hungry party,
and we then turned in on couches of pine boughs. It snowed fast all
night, and we woke up in the morning under a thick white counterpane.
There was nothing for breakfast, and as soon as the morning mists
cleared away from the river we took to the boat again, and reached Soda
Creek safely in about a couple of hours. We had taken our places in the
“express wagon,” running between this place and Yale with letters and
gold; but, as the express-man had not yet returned from Cariboo, we
walked on fourteen miles to Davidson’s, near William’s Lake. The farm
here is, perhaps, the finest in British Columbia, comprising several
hundred acres of low land on the borders of the lake, the delta of a
small stream which enters at this point. Potatoes and other vegetables,
barley and oats, flourish wonderfully. Wheat had been sown for the
first time that year, and was already above ground, but looked rather
starved and yellow. The scenery of William’s Lake is very beautiful;
bold, rugged hills rising up grandly on the west.
The day after our arrival at Davidson’s a large party of miners came
in with the intelligence that a boat which left the Mouth of Quesnelle
the day after we did had been swamped in the rapids below. Seven or
eight persons were drowned, and one of the lucky survivors was a man
who carried several pounds’ weight of gold in a belt round his waist.
The force of the current literally threw him ashore, and he managed to
scramble out.
In two or three days the express arrived, and we started for Yale once
more. When we reached the bottom of the ascent to the high table-land,
we found the road covered with a thick sheet of ice, and all hands had
to get out and push behind the wagon. The horses fell frequently, and
had to be unharnessed and put on their legs again; but, after many
delays, we got to the top, where the snow was deeper, and the horses
travelled better.
We carried 170 pounds’ weight of gold with us in the express wagon, and
the fact that this, worth about £8,000, could be thus forwarded without
any escort, is the strongest possible testimony to the orderly state of
the country. In addition to the driver, there was one other passenger
and ourselves, yet the former was the only one armed. He told us that
he frequently travelled in charge of the treasure quite alone, and had
made up his mind that he should be attacked some time. The temptation
would be too great, and the opportunities plentiful enough along the
lonely 400 miles, where the houses were ten or twenty miles apart, and
passengers rare except at certain seasons. He looked upon “The Chasm”
as the most suitable and probable place of attack; its yawning gulf,
hidden from the road by bushes, and its bottom covered by _débris_ and
underwood, offering every convenience for the disposal of his body. He
was by no means nervous, or in any way unhappy, but laughed and talked
about his anticipated fate with careless indifference.
Five days’ driving brought us to the terrific road between Lytton and
Yale, and as we sat in the wagon, within a few inches of the unguarded
edge of the precipice of 700 or 800 feet, running up and down the
steeps, and along the narrow portions, winding round the face of the
bluffs, we could not help an uneasy consciousness that a very trifling
accident might eject us from our lofty position into the depths below.
And what made matters look worse was, that our carriage was gradually
coming to pieces. First one spring broke, and then another, and we
bumped about on the axles. Next the splinter-bar gave way, and had to
be tied up with a piece of rope. All these would have been trifling
accidents had the road been of a different character, but when, to
crown all, the pole snapped in its socket, and the wagon ran into
the horses, we had good cause to be thankful that this had happened
in the middle of a flat, just after crossing the suspension bridge.
Had it occurred a few minutes sooner, we should doubtless have been
precipitated headlong into the Roaring Cañons. The pole was past
mending, so the driver took the horses out and led them back to a
house about half a mile distant, the rest of us remaining behind to
guard the treasure by the light of a large bonfire, for it was already
quite dark. In about an hour the driver re-appeared, accompanied by a
friend, bringing a large covered wagon, drawn by two fine Californian
horses. The fresh horses were put in as leaders, and we soon started
with our four-in-hand, rattling along at a headlong gallop, for we had
now two drivers, one who managed the reins, while the other vigorously
plied the whip. The express-man had brought a bottle of whisky back
with him, and he and his friend devoted themselves assiduously to it
in the calmer intervals of their joint occupation. After a time it
was discovered that the reins of the leaders were not crossed, and
consequently useless for guiding purposes; but the two Californians led
the way admirably, sweeping round every curve with great precision.
Much of the road was as dangerous as any we had passed before, but the
men shouted and whipped up, the horses galloped furiously, the wagon
whisked round the precipitous bluffs, and tore down the steep descents
in mad career. We reached Yale before midnight, having been little more
than an hour doing the last fifteen miles of this fearful road.
Leaving this picturesque little town for the second and last time the
following morning, we took steamer down the Fraser once more, and
landed in Victoria again on the 25th of November.