An early breakfast was prepared by the whole Club, as the supper of the
previous evening had been. The miners had to be at the mines, where they
worked, promptly at 7 o'clock, to take the places of the men who had
worked since eleven o'clock the previous night.
While at breakfast the door of the house was softly opened and a
Chinaman showed his face. He explained that he was a "belly good cook,"
and would like to work for ten dollars a week.
Carlin was nearest the door, and in a bantering tone opened a
conversation with the Mongolian.
"What is your name, John?"
"Yap Sing."
"Are you a good cook, sure, Yap?"
"Oh, yes, me belly good cook; me cookie bleef-steak, chickie, turkie,
goosie; me makie bled, pie, ebbything; me belly good cook."
"Have you any cousins, Yap?"
"No cuzzie; no likie cuzzie."
"Do you get drunk, Yap?"
"No gettie glunk; no likie blandy."
"Do you smoke opium?"
"No likie smokie opium. You sabe, one man smokie opium, letee while he
all same one fool; all same one d----d monkey."
"Suppose we were to hire you, Yap, how long would it take you to steal
everything in the ranch?"
"Me no stealie; me no likie stealie."
"Now, Yap, suppose we hire you and we all go off to the mines and leave
you here, and some one comes and wants to buy bacon and beans and flour
and sugar, what would you do?"
"Me no sellie."
"Suppose some one comes and wants to steal things, what then?"
"Me cuttie his ears off; me cuttie his d----d throat."
At this Brewster interposed and said: "I believe it would be a good idea
to engage this Chinaman. We are away and the place is unprotected all
day; besides, after a man has worked all day down in the hot levels of
the Comstock, he does not feel like cooking his own dinner. Let us give
John a trial."
It was agreed to. Yap Sing was duly installed. He was instructed to have
supper promptly at six o'clock; orders were given him on the markets for
fresh meat, vegetables, etc. From the remnants of the breakfast the
dinner buckets were filled and the men went away to their work.
Yap Sing proved to be an artist in his way. When the members of the Club
met again at their home, a splendid, hot supper was waiting for them.
They ate, as hungry miners do, congratulating themselves that, as it
were from the sky, an angel of a heathen had dropped down upon them.
After supper, when the pipes were lighted, the conversation of the
previous evening was resumed.
The second night brought out something of the history of each. They had
nearly all lived in California; some had wandered the Golden Coast all
over; all had roughed it, and all had an experience to relate. These
evening visits soon became very enjoyable to the members of the Club,
and the friendship of the members for each other increased as they the
more thoroughly, knew the inner lives of each other.
On this night, Wright was the last to speak of himself. When he had
concluded, Ashley said to him: "Wright, you have had some lively
experiences. What is the most impressive scene that you ever witnessed?"
"I hardly know." Wright replied. "I think maybe a mirage that was
painted for me, one day, out on the desert, this side of the sink of the
Humbolt, when I was crossing the plains, shook me up about as much as
anything that ever overtook me, except the chills and fever, which I
used to have when a boy, back in Missouri. For only a picture it was
right worrisome."
The Club wanted to hear about it, and so Wright proceeded as follows:
"We had been having rough times for a good while; thar had been sickness
in the train; some of the best animals had been poisoned with alkali;
thar had been some Injun scares--it was in '57--and we all had been
broken, more or less, of our rest, I in particular, was a good deal
jolted up; was nervous and full of starts and shivers. I suspect thar
was a little fever on me. We halted one morning on the desert, to rest
the stock, and make some coffee. It was about eight o'clock. We had been
traveling since sundown the night before, crossing the great desert, and
hoped to reach Truckee River that afternoon.
"While resting, a mighty desire took possession of me to see the river,
and to feel that the desert was crossed.
"I had a saddle mule that was still in good condition. I had petted him
since he was three days old, had broken him, and he and myself were the
best of friends. His mother was a thoroughbred Kentucky mare; from her
he had inherited his courage and staying qualities, while he had also
just enough of his father's stubbornness to be useful, for it held his
heart up to the work when things got rough.
"I looked over the train; it was all right; I was not needed; would not
be any more that day.
"The mule was brought up in the Osage hills, and I had named him Osage,
which after awhile became contracted to Sage. I went to him and looked
him over. He was quietly munching a bacon sack. I took a couple of
quarts of wheaten flour, mixed it into a soft paste, with water from one
of the kegs which had been brought along, and gave it to him. He drank
it as a hungry boy drinks porridge, and licked the dish clean. The
journey had impressed upon him the absolute need of exercising the
closest economy.
"When he had finished his rather light breakfast, I whispered to him
that if he would stand in with me, I would show him, before night, the
prettiest stream of water--snow water--in the world. I think he
understood me perfectly. Telling the people of the train that I would go
ahead and look out a camping place, I took my shotgun, put a couple of
biscuits in my pocket, and mounted Sage. He struck out at once on his
long swinging walk.
"It was an August morning and had been hot ever since the sun rose. That
is a feature out thar on the desert in the summer. The nights get cold,
but so soon as the sun comes up, it is like going down into the
Comstock. In fifteen minutes everything is steaming. Old Ben Allen, down
on the borders of the Cherokee Nation, never of a morning, warmed up his
niggers any livelier than the sun does the desert.
"I rode for a couple of hours. As I said, I was weak and nervous. In the
sand, Sage's feet hardly made any sound, and the glare and the silence
of the desert were around and upon me. If you never experienced it you
don't know what the silence of the desert means. Take a day when the
winds are laid; when in all directions, as far as your vision extends,
thar is not a moving thing; when all that you can see is the brazen sky
overhead, and the scarred breast of the earth, as if smitten and
transfixed by Thor's thunderbolts, lying prone and desolate like the
face of a dead world, before you; and withal not one sound: absolute
stillness; and strong nerves after awhile become strained. On me, that
forenoon, my surroundings became almost intolerable. I had been on foot
driving team all night; I had eaten nothing since midnight, and then had
only forced down a small slice of bread and a cup of horrible black
coffee, and was really not more than half myself. One moment I was
chilly; the next was perspiring, and sometimes it seemed as though I
should suffocate. With my nerves strung up as they were, I guess it
would not have required much to give me a panic.
"Just then, out against the sun to the southward, and apparently a mile
away, I saw something. Talk about being impressed! that was my time. I
was sure I saw five hundred Indian warriors, all mounted. They were
wheeling in black squadrons on the desert, wheeling and forming, as I
thought. Horses and men were all black, and now and then as they wheeled
or swung to and fro, I marked what I was sure was the gleam of steel.
They evidently had seen me: I expected every moment to hear their yell
and wondered that I did not feel the tremble of the earth beneath their
horses' feet; I was too nearly paralyzed to try to escape. I slipped or
fell, I don't know which, from my mule, and lay panting like a tired
hound upon the sand. But I could not keep my eyes from the terrible
sight before me. Still those tawny warriors kept wheeling and forming,
and as I believed, menacing me.
"At length I grew a little calmer, and remember that I explained to
myself that the reason I did not hear the thunder of their horses' feet,
was because of the sand, and from the fact that the ponies could not be
shod. But I wondered more and more where an Indian tribe could get so
many black horses.
"Once, when they seemed particularly furious, and just on the point of
charging down upon me; I remember that I said to myself: 'If they eat me
they will have to broil me in the sun, for thar is no fuel here.' All
the time too, I was pitying Sage, and my own voice frightened me as I
unconsciously said: 'Poor Sage, it is a hard fate to be faithful and
suffer as you have and then fall into the hands of savages.'
"When a little more under my own control, I cautiously rose to my feet
and looked at the mule. It was no use. On top of the fatigue of coming
quite two thousand miles, he had, on that morning, been constantly
traveling for fourteen hours, with only two rests of thirty minutes
each. He never could get away from those fresh ponies. I looked back in
the direction of the train; it was nowhar in sight and must have been
back probably five miles.
"In this strait I looked up again toward my savages. At that very moment
the charge commenced; the whole array was bearing down upon me. I took
my gun from the horn of the saddle and sat down on the ground. I
felt--but no matter how I felt; I only know that at that moment I would
have given my note for a large sum to have been back in Missouri.
"On they swept, and I watched them coming. But somehow they began to
grow smaller and smaller, and in an instant more the squadron vanished.
Where the moment before an armed band, terrible with life and bristling
with fury, had shone upon my eyes, now all that there was to be seen was
a flock of perhaps twenty ravens, flying with short flights, and hopping
and lighting around some little thing, which lay above the level of the
desert. I mounted Sage and rode out to the spot, some four hundred yards
away.
"I found another road, and strung along it, were the carcasses of a good
many cattle that had died in emigrant trains. The ravens were hopping
about these carcasses and flying from one to another. I had heard of the
mirage of the desert, when a boy in school, and suddenly 'I dropped
upon' the whole business. By some mighty refraction of the beams of
light, these miserable scavengers of the desert had been magnified into
formidable, mounted warriors, and the glint of steel that I had seen,
was but the shimmer of sunbeams upon their black wings.
"Again I headed Sage for the river. In a little while he commenced to
stretch out his nose; soon, of his own accord, he quickened his pace to
a trot, a little later he took up his long lope and never relaxed his
speed until he drove his nose into the delicious water of the Truckee. I
dismounted and joined him. Right there we each took the biggest and
longest drink of our lives; then I gave Sage one of my biscuits and ate
the other myself, and we both felt immensely refreshed. I stripped the
saddle and bridle from the mule and let him go. The river bank was green
with grass and Sage was happy.
"Throwing myself upon the ground, and laying my head upon the saddle, I
composed myself for a sleep.
"I was greatly in need of sleep, but the moment I closed my eyes, here
came my black cavalry charging down upon me again, and I sprang up with
a cry. Of all impressive scenes, that was my biggest one sure. I see it
in my dreams still, at times, and I never, from this mountain side, look
down to where the sand clouds are piling up their dunes over toward the
Sink of the Carson, that I do not instinctively take one furtive glance
in search of my savages."
"I had a livelier mirage than that once," said Miller with a laugh. "I
was prospecting for quartz in the foothills of Rogue River Valley,
Oregon, and looking up, I thought I saw four or five deer, lying under a
tree, on a hill side, about three hundred yards away. I raised the sight
on my gun, took as good aim as I could on horseback, and blazed away.
"In a second, four of those Rogue River Indians sprang from the ground
and made for me. I had a good horse, but they ran me six miles before
they gave up the chase. No more mirages like that for me, if you
please."
"I had a worse one than either of yees," chimed in Corrigan. "It was in
that tough winter of '69. I had been placer mining up by Pine Grove, in
California, all summer. I had a fair surface claim, and by wurking half
the time, I paid me way and had a few dollars besides. The other half of
the time I was wurking upon a dape cut, through bid rock, to get a fall
in which I could place heavy sluices, and calculated that with the
spring I could put in a pipe, and hydraulic more ground in one sason
than I could wurk in the ould way in tin. One day, late in the autumn, I
went up to La Porte to buy supplies, and on the night that I made that
camp it began to snow. When once it got shtarted, it just continued to
snow, as it can up in those mountains, and niver "lit up" for four hours
at a time for thray wakes. It began to look as though the glacial period
had returned to the wurld.
"When I wint into town, I put up at Mrs. O'Kelly's boardin' and lodgin'
house. Mrs. O'Kelly was a big woman, weighin' full two hundred pounds,
and she was a business woman. She didn't pretind to be remainin' in La
Porte jist for her hilth.
"But there was a beautiful girl waitin' on the table in Mrs. O'Kelly's
home. Her name was Maggie Murphy, and she was as thrim and purty a girl
as you would wish to mate. She had bright, cheery ways, and whin she
wint up to a table and sung out 'Soup'? all the crockery in the dinin'
room would dance for joy.
"Of an avenin' I used, after a few days, to visit a bit with Maggie.
Some one had told about the camp that I had a great mine, and was all
solid, and I was willin' to have the delusion kipt up, anyway until the
storm saised. Maggie, I have a suspicion, had hurd the same story, for
she was exceedingly gracious loike to me. One avenin,' as I was sayin'
'good night'--we were growin' mighty familiar loike thin--I said
'Maggie,' says I, 'the last woman I iver kissed was my ould mother, may
I not kiss you, for I love you, darlint?' 'Indade you shall not,' says
she, but in spite of that, somethin' in her eyes made me bould loike,
and I saised upon and hild her--but she did not hould so very hard--and
I kissed her upon chake and lips and eyes, and me arms were around her,
and her heart was throbbin' warm against mine, and me soul was in the
siventh heaven.
"After awhile we quieted down a bit, and with me arms shtill around her,
I asked, didn't she think Corrigan was a purtier name nor Murphy, and as
I could not change my name fur her sake, wouldn't she change hers fur
moine?
"Thin with the tears shinin' loike shtars in her beautiful eyes, she
raised up her arms, let thim shtale round me neck, and layin' her chake
against me breast, which was throbbin' loike a stone bruise, said, said
she, 'Yis, Barney, darlint.'
"I had niver thought Barney was a very beautiful name before, but jist
then it shtruck upon me ear swater thin marriage bells."
Here Miller interrupted with, "You felt pretty proud just then, did you
not, Barney?"
"The Koohinoor would not hiv made a collar button fur me."
"Don't interrupt him, Miller," interposed Carlin; "let Barney tell us the
rest of the story."
"There was a sofay near by. I drew Maggie to it, sat down and hild her
to me side. She was pale, and we were both sort of trembly loike.
"We did not talk much at first, but after awile Maggie said, suddent,
said she: 'What a liar you are, Barney!'
"And I said 'for why?' And she said 'to say you had niver kissed a woman
since you had lift your ould mother. You have had plinty of practice.'
"'And how do you know,' says I, and thin--but no matter, we had to begin
all over again.
"After awhile I wint away to bid, and talk about your mirages; all that
night there was a convoy of angels around me, and the batein' of their
wings was swater than the echoes that float in whin soft music comes
from afar over still wathers.
"One of the angels had just folded her wings and taken the form of
Maggie, and was jist bend in' over me, whisperin' beautiful loike, whin,
oh murther, I was wakened with a cry of: 'Are ye there now, ye
blackguard?' I opened me eyes, and there stood Mrs. O'Kelly, with a
broomstick over her head, and somethin' in her eye that looked moighty
like a cloudburst.
"'Ye thavin' villin,' said she, 'pertendin' to be a rich miner, and
atin' up a poor woman all the time.' Thin she broke down intoirely and
comminced wailin.
"'Oh, Mr. Corrigan,' she howled through her sobs, 'How could yees come
here and impose upon a unsuspectin' widdie; you know how hard I wurk;
that I am up from early mornin' until the middle of the night, cookin'
and shwapin' and makin' beds, and slavin' loike a black nigger, and----'
by this time she recovered her timper and complated the sintence with:
'If yees don't pay me at once I'll--I'll, I'll--'
"I found breath enough after awhile to tell her to hould on. My
pantaloons were on a chair within aisy rache; I snatched thim up, sayin'
as I did so: 'How much is your bill, Mrs. O'Kelly?'
"'Thray wakes at iliven dollars is thray and thirty dollars, and one
extra day is a dollar and five bits, or altogither, thirty-four dollars
and five bits.'
"I shtill had siveral twinty-dollar paces; I plunged me hand into the
pocket of me pants, saized them all, thin let them drop upon aich other,
all but two, and holdin' these out, said sharply, and still with the
grand air of a millionaire: 'The change, if you plase, Mrs. O'Kelly.'
"She took the money, gazed upon it a moment with a dazed and surprised
look; thin suddenly her face was wrathed in smiles, and as softly as a
woman with her voice (it sounded loike a muffled threshing machine)
could, said: 'Take back your money. Mr. Corrigan, and remain as long as
you plase. I was only jist after playin' a bit of a trick upon yees.
What do yees think I care for a few beggarly dollars?'
"But I could not see it; I remained firm. Again I said: 'The change, if
you plase, Mrs. O'Kelly, and as soon too as convanient.'
"She brought me the change, sayin': 'I'll have your brikfast smokin' hot
for yees, in five minutes, Mr. Corrigan.'
"I put on me clothes and looked out. The storm had worn itself out at
last. I wint down stairs to the dinin' room door, and beckoned to
Maggie. She came to me, and there ware the rale love-light in her
beautiful eyes. I can see her now. She was straight as a pump rod; her
head sat upon her nick like a picture; the nick itsilf was white loike
snow--but niver mind.
"'Come out in the hall a bit.' I whispered, and she come. I clasped her
hand for a moment and said: 'It's goin' home I am, Maggie; I am goin' to
fix me house a little: it will take me forty days to make me
arrangements. If I come thin, will you take me name and go back with
me?'
"'I will,' says she.
"This is the sivinteenth of the month, Maggie; the sivinteenth of next
month will be thirty days, and tin more will make it the twinty-sivinth.
If I come thin, will yees go?' I asked.
"'I will, Barney, Dear,' was the answer.
"'Have yees thought it over, and will yees be satisfied, darlint?' I
asked.
"'I have, Barney; I shall be satisfied, and I will be a good wife to
yees, darlint,' was the answer.
[Illustration: MAGGIE.]
"Thin I hild out me arms and she sprang into thim. There was an embrace
and a kiss and thin--
"'Goodbye, Maggie!'
"'Good bye, Barney!' and I wint away.
"I wint to a ristaurant and got a cup of coffee, and was jist startin'
fer home, whin a frind come up and said: 'Barney,' said he; 'there's a
man here you ought to go and punch the nose off of.'
"'What fur,' says I.
"'He's a slanderin' of yer,' says he.
"'Who is the man and what is he sayin?' says I.
"'It's Mike Dougherty, the blacksmith,' says he; and he is a sayin' as
how your claim is no account, and that you are a bummer.'
"Me heart was too light to think of quarrelin'; on me lips the honey of
Maggie's kiss was still warm, and what did I care what ony man said. I
merely laughed, and said: 'Maybe he is right,' and wint upon me way."
With this Corrigan ceased speaking. After a moment or two of silence,
Carlin said:
"Well, Barney, how was it in six weeks?"
"I had another mirage thin," said Barney. "I wint up to town; called at
Mrs. O'Kelly's; she mit me, smilin' like, and said: 'Walk in, Mr.
Corrigan!' I said: 'If you please, Mrs. O'Kelly, can I see Miss Murphy?'
There was a vicious twinkle in her eye, as she answered, pointin' to a
nate house upon the hillside, as she spoke.
"'You will find her there, but her name is changed now. She was married
on Thursday wake, to Mr. Mike Dougherty, the blacksmith. A foine man,
and man of property, is Mr. Dougherty.'
"Talk about shtrong impressions! For a moment I felt as though I was
fallin' down a shaft. I----but don't mention it."
Barney was still for a moment, and then said, in a voice almost husky:
"As I came into town that day, all the great pines were noddin,'
shmilin' and stretchin' out their mighty arms, as much as to say: 'We
congratulate you, Mr. Corrigan.' As I turned away from Mrs. O'Kelly's,
it samed to me that ivery one of thim had drawn in its branches and
stood as the hoodlum does whin he pints his thumb to his nose and
wriggles his fingers."
Just then the Potosi whistle rung out on the still night again, the
others answered the call, and the Club, at the signal, retired.