A VISIT TO THE DIGGINGS RESOLVED ON. TERRIBLE COMMENCEMENT OF THE
JOURNEY.
When next morning arrived, Joe Graddy, true to his word, appeared with
the first--if not of the "flood-tide," at least of the morning sun, and
Frank told him that, on the previous evening, he had made arrangements
to go to the diggings in company with a party that was to start the
following day; that he had already made purchases of the few things
which they would require on the journey, and that the only thing
remaining to be done was to pack up.
"Now, Joe, you must go at once to the principal guide and make
arrangements with him as to that brandy and tea on which you expect to
found your future fortunes. I told him to expect a visit from you early
in the day."
"Wotiver you do, do it at once," said Joe, putting on his straw hat with
an energetic slap. "That's one of my mottos. I'll go an' carry it into
practice."
The following day saw Frank and his man set forth with a party of about
thirty men, all of whom were clad in blue or red flannel shirts, straw
hats, big boots, and other rough garments; with rifles on their
shoulders, and bowie-knives and pistols in their belts. These were men
of various nations; Californians, Chinamen, Malays, Americans, Scotch,
and English, and many of them looked not only rough but savage. In
truth, they were as diverse in their characters as in their appearance,
some of them being men who had evidently moved in good society, while
others were as evidently of the lowest--probably the convict--class.
They had all, however, been thrown together by the force of a common
interest. All were bound for the gold-mines, and it was necessary that
they should travel in company for mutual protection and assistance.
There were two guides, who had charge of ten pack-mules loaded with
provisions for the storekeepers at some remote diggings. These guides
were stern, powerful, bronzed fellows, who had to make their way among
rough men in difficult circumstances, and they seemed to be quite
prepared to do so, being fearless, resolute, and armed to the teeth.
Joe Graddy had obtained permission, on promise of payment, to place his
little fortune on the backs of the mules, so that he and Frank had
nothing to carry save their weapons and blankets, besides a tin cup each
at their girdles, and a water-bag.
"Come, I like this sort of thing," said one of the party, an Englishman,
when the order was given to start. "If it is all like this it will be
uncommonly jolly."
"I guess it ain't all like this, stranger," said one of the Americans
with a good-humoured grin.
One of the guides laughed, and the other ejaculated "humph!" as they set
forward.
There was indeed some ground for the remark of the Englishman, for the
country through which they passed was most beautiful, and the weather
delicious. Their track lay over an undulating region of park-like land
covered with short grass; clumps of bushes were scattered here and there
about the plain, and high above these towered some magnificent specimens
of the oak, sycamore, and Californian cypress, while in the extreme
distance rose the ranges of the "golden" mountains--the Sierra Nevada--
in the midst of which lay the treasures of which they were in search.
All the members of the party were on foot, and, being fresh, full of
hope, and eager to reach their destination. They chatted gaily as they
marched over the prairie.
On the way the good-humoured American seemed to take a fancy to Frank,
with whom he had a great deal of animated conversation. After asking
our hero every possible question in regard to himself and intentions, he
told him that he was Yankee,--a piece of superfluous information, by the
way;--that his name was Jeffson, that he was a store-keeper at one of
the farthest off diggings, that the chief part of the loading of one of
the mules belonged to him, and that he was driving a considerable
business in gold-dust without the trouble of digging for it.
Towards evening they came to a very small hole in the plain, which was
dignified with the name of a well. Here they stopped to replenish their
water-casks.
"Take as much as you can carry, men," said the principal guide, "we've a
long march to the next well, over sandy ground, and sometimes there
ain't much water in it."
They all followed this advice with the exception of one man, a coarse
savage-looking fellow, with a huge black beard and matted locks, who
called himself Bradling, though there was ground for doubting whether
that was the name by which he had been at first known in the world.
This man pulled out an enormous brandy-flask, and with a scoffing laugh
said:--
"This is the water for me, mister guide, pure and unmixed, there's
nothin' like it."
He nodded as he spoke, and put the flask to his lips, while the guide,
who made no rejoinder, eyed him with a grave, stern expression of
countenance.
That night they all encamped under the shade of a small clump of trees,
kindled several large fires, and, heartily glad to be relieved of their
back-burdens, sat down to enjoy supper. After it was over pipes were
smoked and stories told, until it was time to retire to rest. Then each
man lay down under his blanket, the sky being his canopy, and the
howling of the wolves his lullaby.
It seemed to each sleeper, when awakened next morning, that he had only
just closed his eyes, so sound had been his repose, and there was a
great deal of violent yawning, stretching, grumbling, and winking before
the whole party was finally aroused and ready to set forth. However,
they got under way at last, and early in the forenoon came to the edge
of a sandy plain, which appeared to be interminable, with scarcely a
blade of grass on it. Here they halted for a few minutes.
"How wide is the plain, guide?" inquired Frank.
"Forty miles," replied the man, "and there's not a drop of water to be
had till the end of the first twenty. We'll get there about sundown,
and replenish our kegs, if it's not all gone dry. Let me warn you,
however, to use the water you have sparingly."
"Do we encamp at the end o' the first twenty?" asked Jeffson.
"Yes, you'll find it a long enough day's march."
No one made any reply, but by their looks they appeared to think nothing
of a twenty-mile walk. They found, however, that such a distance,
traversed over loose sand ankle-deep, and under a burning sun, was not
what any of them had been accustomed to.
On entering the plain they observed that the heat had opened cracks and
fissures in the earth, which omitted a fiery heat. At intervals
pyramids of sand arose, which were borne with great velocity through the
air, sometimes appearing in the shape of columns sixty feet high, which
moved majestically over the plain. Ere long some of these clouds of
sand enveloped them, and they were accompanied by hot winds, which
seemed to shrivel up, not only the skin, but the very vitals of the
travellers. The pores of their skin closed, producing feverish heat in
the blood and terrible thirst, while their eyes became inflamed by the
dazzling glare of the sun on the white sand.
Of course most of the party applied pretty frequently to their
water-kegs and bottles. Even Bradling gave up his brandy, and was
content to refresh himself with the little of the pure element which
chanced to remain in his formerly despised, but now cherished,
water-bottle. The guides carried skins of water for themselves and the
mules, but these they opened very seldom, knowing full well the torments
that would ensue if they should run short before getting across the
scorching desert.
Thus they went on hour after hour, becoming more and more oppressed at
every step. The improvident among them drank up the precious water too
fast, and towards evening began to sigh for relief, and to regard with
longing eyes the supplies of their more self-denying companions. They
consoled themselves, however, to some extent, with thoughts of the deep
draughts they hoped to obtain at night.
Our hero and Joe were among those who reserved their supplies.
As night approached the thirst of the travellers increased to a terrible
extent, insomuch that they appeared to forget their fatigue, and hurried
forward at a smart pace, in the eager hope of coming to the promised
water-hole. Great, therefore, was their dismay when the guides told
them that it was impossible to reach the place that night, that the
mules were too much knocked up, but that they would get to it early on
the following day.
They said little, however, seeming to be too much depressed to express
their disappointment in words, but their haggard looks were fearfully
eloquent. Some of those who had wasted their supplies earnestly
implored their more prudent comrades to give them a little, a "very
little," of the precious element, and two or three were generous enough
to give away a few drops of the little that still remained to them.
The place where they had halted was without a scrap of vegetation, and
as there was no wood wherewith to kindle a fire, they were compelled to
encamp without one. To most of the travellers, however, this was a
matter of little importance, because they were too much exhausted to
eat. Those who had water drank a mouthful sparingly, and then lay down
to sleep. Those who had none also lay down in gloomy silence. They did
not even indulge in the usual solace of a pipe, for fear of adding to
the burning thirst with which they were consumed.
At day-break they were aroused by the guides, and rose with alacrity,
feeling a little refreshed, and being anxious to push on to the
water-hole, but when the sun rose and sent its dazzling rays over the
dreary waste, giving promise of another dreadful day, their spirits sank
again. Seeing this the principal guide encouraged them by saying that
the water-hole was not more than three miles distant.
Onward they pushed with renewed energy and hope. At last they reached
the place, and found that the hole was dry!
With consternation depicted on their haggard countenances the men looked
at the guide.
"Dig, men, dig," he said, with a troubled look on his bronzed face,
"there may be a little below the surface."
They did dig with shovels, spades, knives, sticks, hands, anything, and
they dug as never men did for gold. All the gold in California would
they have given at that time for a cupful of cold water, but all the
gold in the world could not have purchased one drop from the parched
sand. Never was despair more awfully pictured on men's faces as they
gazed at one another after finding that their efforts were unavailing.
Their case was truly pitiable, and they turned to the guide as if they
expected commiseration; but the case had become too desperate for him to
think of others. In a stern, hard voice he cried--
"Onwards, men! onwards! The nearest stream is forty miles off. None of
those who have water can spare a drop, and death lies in delay. Every
man for himself now. Onward, men, for your lives!"
Saying this he applied the whip to the poor mules, which, with glazed
eyes and hanging ears, snorted with agony, and dropped down frequently
as they went along, but a sharp thrust of the goad forced them to rise
again and stumble forward.
"God help the poor wretches," murmured Joe Graddy to Frank as they
staggered along side by side. "Is our supply nearly out--could we not
give them a drop?"
Frank stopped suddenly, and, with desperate energy, seized the keg which
hung over his shoulder, and shook it close to the ear of his companion.
"Listen," he said, "can we afford to spare any with forty miles of the
desert before us? It is our life! we must guard it."
Graddy shook his head, and, admitting that the thing was out of the
question, went silently forward. It was all that Frank himself could do
to refrain from drinking the little that remained, for his very vitals
seemed on fire. Indeed, in this respect, he suffered more than some of
his companions, for while those of them who had not charge of the
water-kegs and bottles experienced the pain of suffering and hopeless
longing, he himself had the additional misery of having to resist
temptation, for at any moment he could have obtained temporary relief by
gratifying his desires at the expense of his companions.
Overpowered with heat, and burnt up with thirst, those without water to
moisten their parched lips and throats could scarcely keep pace with the
guide. By degrees they threw away their possessions--their blankets,
their clothes,--until the plain behind was strewn with them.
"Don't go so fast," groaned one.
"Won't ye halt a while?" said another uttering a curse--then, suddenly
changing his tone, he implored them to halt.
"We cannot halt. It is death to halt," said the guide, in a tone so
resolute and callous that those who were enfeebled lost heart
altogether, and began to lag behind.
At that time the man Bradling, who had become nearly mad with drinking
brandy, ran in succession to each of those who had water, and offered
all that he possessed of the former for one mouthful of the latter. His
flushed face, glassy eyes, and haggard air, told how terrible was his
extremity; but although some might have felt a touch of commiseration
not one was moved to relieve him. The law of self-preservation had
turned the hearts of all to stone. Yet not quite to stone, for there
were one or two among them who, although nothing would induce them to
give a single drop to a comrade, were content to do with _less_ in order
that they might relieve a friend!
One man in his desperation attempted to lick the bodies of the mules,
hoping to obtain relief from the exudations of their skins, but the dust
on them rendered this unavailing.
Suddenly Bradling darted at the water-skin hanging by the side of the
guide's mule, and swore he would have it or die.
"You'll die, then," observed the guide quietly, cocking a pistol and
presenting it at his head.
Bradling hesitated and looked at the man. There was a cold stony stare,
without the least excitement, in his look, which convinced him that his
attempt, if continued, would end in certain death. He fell back at once
with a deep groan.
Onward they pressed, hour after hour, until, in many of them, exhausted
nature began to give way. They became slightly delirious, and, finding
that they could not keep up with the party, a few determined, if left
behind, to keep together. Among the number was Bradling, and terrible
were the imprecations which he hurled after the more fortunate as they
parted. It seemed cruel; but to remain with them would have done no
good, while it would have sacrificed more lives. Bradling seemed to
regard Frank as his chief enemy, for he shouted his name as he was
moving off, praying God to send down the bitterest curses on his head.
A sudden impulse moved the heart of Frank. He turned back, poured about
half a wine-glassful of water into a tin can and gave it to the
unfortunate man, who seized and drained it greedily, licking the rim of
the can and gazing into it, to see that not a drop had escaped him, with
an eagerness of manner that was very painful to behold.
"God bless you," he said to Frank with a deep sigh.
"Do you think," said Frank earnestly, "that God will curse and bless at
your bidding?"
"I don't know, and don't care," replied the man, "but I say God bless
you. Go away and be content with that."
Frank had already lost too much time. He turned and hastened after the
others as fast as possible.
"They won't last long," said the guide harshly, as he came up. "The
wolves or the redskins will soon finish them. You were a fool to waste
your water on them."
"You are a fool to give your opinion to one who neither asks nor cares
for it," retorted Frank.
The man took no notice of the reply, and Frank afterwards felt somewhat
ashamed of being so hasty, for at night, when they encamped, the guide
advised him, in a friendly way, to keep a sharp look-out on the water,
as those who had finished theirs during the day would be not unlikely to
make an attack on those who had any left. Frank thanked him; but being
too much fatigued to mount guard, he and Graddy, with his Yankee friend
Jeffson, slept together, rolled in their blankets, with pistols in their
hands and the water-bottles attached to them. Nothing disturbed them,
however, during the night, save the howling of wolves, and the imploring
cries, irritated exclamations, and angry discontent of the suffering
men, which latter sounds were far more terrible than the cries of wild
beasts.
A little before day-break some who could not rest sprang up and
continued their journey, walking at their utmost speed until they
sighted the woodland. Then, indeed, did a new sensation of delight fill
their souls as they gazed upon the green verdure. Even the mules,
though their eyes were bandaged, seemed to know that water was near.
They snuffed the breeze, pricked up their ears, and neighed loudly. On
reaching the woods, and sighting the river, a momentary halt was called
to cast off the burdens of the mules. This was speedily done, and then
they all rushed--men and mules together--deep into the stream and
luxuriated in the cool water!
When they had slaked their thirst to the uttermost, Graddy proposed that
a party should be sent back to the relief of those left behind, and
offered to join it. Frank seconded this proposal, and the Yankee,
Jeffson, volunteered to join it. A German named Meyer, who had borne
his sufferings with great fortitude, also volunteered, as did a
Scotchman named Douglas.
"You may propose what you please," said the guide, when he heard them
talking, "but _I_ will not wait for you."
"Why not?" inquired Frank somewhat angrily. "Because I was not hired
for such work. It is my business to push on to the mines, and push on I
will, follow who pleases."
"Bot fat if ve compel you for to stay?" asked the German with an
indignant air.
"Then you will guide yourselves as you best may, I will refuse to go a
step further. Is it fair that I should be hired for a special job and
then be asked to turn aside and risk my life for the sake of men who
have chosen to throw their own lives away, and who are no doubt dead by
this time?"
A number of the travellers applauded this sentiment, and it was evident
that the philanthropists were very much in the minority, but here Frank
stepped in and turned the scale, at least to some extent.
"Men," said he, raising his clenched fist, "I know not what your notions
of humanity may be, or your ideas of justice, but this I know, that the
man who has the power to help a fellow-mortal in deadly distress and
holds back his hand, is worse than a beast, for he has reason to guide
him, and a beast has not. I and my comrade Joe Graddy, at least, will
remain behind, even though we should be left alone, but I am convinced
that we shall _not_ be left alone. Meanwhile," he added, addressing the
guide, "I shall pay you my share of what is due, after which you may go,
and I shall wish you no worse luck than that your conscience may go with
you and be a lively companion."
"There is more to be said than that," observed the Yankee at this point.
"You are so very fond of fulfilling your duty, mister guide, that I
have concluded to relieve you of some of it. One of these mules is
loaded entirely with my goods. Now, I guess, I'll remain behind with
Mister Allfrey, and keep the mule at a reasonable valuation."
"I'll not part with him at any price," said the guide with a sneer.
"I'll carry your goods to the diggings or I'll unstrap them, stranger,
and let you carry them the best way you can, but I'm not bound to sell
my mules to you."
"Now, men," cried the Yankee, springing forward and addressing his
comrades, "I appeal to you all in the name of fair-play! Here am I,
willin' to pay this man a fair price for his mule. There's not a pick
or shovel belongin' to any one else on its back, so I'm doin' damage to
nobody by the proposal. This critter is bent on refusin' me out of
spite; now, I propose to settle the question here with the rifle or
pistol or bowie-knife. He is welcome to choose his weapon--it matters
nothin' to me, and whichever falls loses the day."
There was a burst of laughter at this, and the majority insisted that
the guide should give in, while a few, who were fond of excitement,
suggested that the two should be allowed to fight it out, but this the
guide refused to do; and when his comrade, the second guide, stepped
forward and said he would join those who wanted to remain, he
grumblingly agreed to part with the mule for its full value.
The bargain was soon made. The one party continued their journey; the
other, with an abundant supply of water, returned to those who had been
left behind, and reached them in time to save their lives.
That night, as Frank and Graddy lay together under the same blanket, the
latter observed that, "he had travelled a goodish bit over the univarse,
but that he had niver before comed across nothin' like the experiences
of the last two days; and that, if the end of their diggin' for goold
woe to be as bad as the begginin', the sooner they set about diggin'
their graves the better!"
With which sentiment Frank Allfrey heartily agreed, and thereafter fell
asleep.