The party start for the coast
How the carrying of the gold was arranged
The escort
Character of the country they passed through
Halt at noon
An alarm
A discovery
The escort return, keeping a sharp look-out
A merry evening
The narrative resumed
A loud whistle
"The best part of the gold is lost"
The party are sullen and angry
Malcolm is missing
Don Luis's explanation
A lasso whirls through the air
A horse shot
Malcolm falls to the ground
Bradley fires, and with effect
Retire to cover
A discharge of rifles
The enemy wheel off
Malcolm's horse is missing
Malcolm found to be insensible
More horsemen
Tomas Maria Carillo
Robberies at the mines
Brutal conduct
A litter procured
Malcolm conveyed to a shanty
A kind Californian woman
A volley of inquiries about the gold
"It is the doctor you have to thank for that"
The Author's reflections.
_September 5th_.--This morning, the party bound for the coast started
off as agreed on. We rose before daybreak, breakfasted, and got the
horses in readiness just as the sun showed over the mountain. At my
suggestion, Malcolm had the strongest horse we possessed allotted to
him, as it had been arranged that he should carry the bulk of the gold,
and that Don Luis and Bradley, who were to take as much as they could
carry in their saddle-bags, were to form the guard. This plan was
adopted in preference to having a led horse, which it was thought would
greatly impede their progress, and prevent the party from reaching the
settlements on the Sacramento that night. Bradley and Don Luis each
took with them eighteen pounds weight of gold; Malcolm, who was
unencumbered by anything, and merely carried a brace of pistols in his
belt, took very nearly seventy pounds. To relieve Malcolm's horse as
much as possible, three of us, who were to act as an escort to within a
few miles of the Sacramento Valley, were each to carry fifteen pounds
weight of the gold so far as we went. This escort was composed of
Story, José, and myself.
We started off soon after sun rise, amidst the faint cheers of our
invalided companions, and, as it was necessary for the escorting party
to return to the camp that night, it was agreed that we were to retrace
our steps at noon or thereabouts. The commencement of our ride was
through an open country, broken up by boulders of granite and clumps of
dark grey sage trees, when, after ascending some low rocky hills, their
summits crowned with a dense forest of gigantic pines, we entered a
grassy valley, lined with groups of noble cedars, whose spreading
branches offered a most inviting shade. Every now and then, we had to
make our way down the sides of huge chasms which intercepted our
progress, and then to toil slowly up the difficult ascent.
At noon we halted and took shelter from the sun in a little dell with a
gushing spring bubbling up in the midst, and a patch of willows
fringing the banks of the running stream. We scampered our horses down
it, dismounted, and, turning them loose to graze, seated ourselves at
the base of a huge rock of granite. Our wallet of provisions was
opened, and we soon made a hearty meal. Just as we had finished, some
loose earth and a few small stones came tumbling down from above,
knocking every now and then against the projecting ledges of rock in
their descent. We immediately started up, thinking it might be some
grizzly old bear anxious to make a meal of us, and Bradley and Malcolm
scrambled up above to get a shot at him. But he had been too quick for
them, for just as they reached the top, they heard the branches of the
trees crackling in a tuft of underwood opposite, which lay between us
and a deep water-course we had just crossed. As a fatiguing journey was
before them, they did not think it worth while to give chase to the
brute, and were on the point of descending again into the little hollow
where they had left us, when the print of a man's foot caught Bradley's
eye in the soft sandy earth. Several others were noticed close by, none
of which, Bradley protested, had been made by our party, and certainly
not by a bear, but by some sculking Indians, who had been very likely
hovering about us. They hastened to communicate this intelligence to
us, and it was decided that as the party bound for the coast were now
within some few hours' ride of the upper settlements on the Sacramento,
no Indians would be daring enough to attack them, and it would hardly
be worth while for us to accompany them further. We, however, insisted
upon riding a few miles more on the road, which having done, we took
leave of them with many wishes for their safe and speedy return, and
turned our horses' heads round in the direction of the camp.
Feeling rather fidgetty at the incident of the morning, we passed the
spot where it had taken place, keeping an anxious look-out in every
direction, and after a hard ride of several hours, reached the camp
shortly after sundown, glad that we had escaped any disaster. We had a
merry evening of it; a double allowance of whisky was served out, and
we drank our friends' safe arrival and return.
* * * * *
I now sit down for the first time, after a lapse of several weeks, to
resume the continuation of my narrative. Late in the evening of the
5th, while my companions were chatting over the fire, and I was engaged
in writing, we were interrupted on a sudden by a loud whistle, the note
of which I thought I could not be mistaken in. "Sure that's Bradley,"
exclaimed I; the others thought not, and, catching up their rifles,
examined the flints. The whistle, when again repeated, convinced every
one, however, that my first surmise had been correct. In another minute
Bradley galloped up to us, and Don Luis soon followed after; but, to
our astonishment, Malcolm was not of the party. "My friends," exclaimed
Bradley, "a sad disaster; the best part of the gold is gone--lost
beyond a doubt." "Lost!" said I, expecting some treachery on the part
of Bradley and Don Luis; "How? I don't believe it; I never will believe
it." Bradley gave me an angry look, but said nothing.
"Where's Malcolm?" exclaimed I. "Dead by this time, I am afraid,"
replied Bradley. "Good God!" I exclaimed aloud, and involuntarily
muttered to myself, "Then you have murdered him." I noticed Bradley
examined the countenances of the whole party by turns, and, as my eye
followed his, I saw that every one looked sullen and angry. He, too,
evidently saw this, and said nothing more the whole evening. Don Luis,
however, volunteered the following explanation of the mystery.
He informed us that, after we had parted from them, they put their
horses into a quick trot, to escape as soon as possible into a more
agreeable-looking sort of country. They suspected some vagabond Indians
were hovering about, and as the ground they were travelling over
afforded too many opportunities of concealment to gentry of their
character, they were anxious to reach a more open district. Their road
lay, for several miles, over a succession of small hills, intersected
by valleys covered with stunted oak trees, and with here and there a
solitary pine. Just at a point, when they were winding round a ridge of
hills, which they imagined separated them from the Sacramento Valley,
having a small skirting of timber on their left hand, he, Don Luis,
being slightly in advance of Bradley and Malcolm, happened to turn his
head round, when he saw a horseman stealthily emerging from the
thicket, at a point a short distance in their rear. In a very few
moments another horseman joined the first, and before Don Luis could
give an alarm, the second rider, who, it seems, was an Indian, had
risen in his saddle and had flung out his lasso, which, whizzing
through the air true to its aim, descended over Malcolm's head and
shoulders. Don Luis, who saw all this, immediately jumped from his
horse, and, placing his finger on the trigger of his rifle, fired just
as the Indian was galloping away. The ball entered his horse's head,
when the beast was brought to a stand, and, in a second of time, rolled
over with its rider beneath it, just as the noose had tightened, and
Malcolm was being drawn off his horse to the ground. Bradley, who only
knew of the danger they were in by hearing the lasso whirl through the
air, immediately dismounted, and, like Don Luis, sheltered himself
behind his horse, while he took aim and fired. His never-failing rifle
brought down one of their enemies, a swarthy-looking man in the usual
Mexican sombrero, off his horse to the ground. In the twinkling of an
eye they led their horses behind some boulders of granite which
afforded them cover, and from behind which they saw four men come
charging down upon them. But Bradley and Don Luis, skilled in this kind
of warfare, had already stooped down and reloaded. Don Luis was the
first to let fly at the advancing party, but without success. His shot
was answered by a discharge of rifles from the enemy, which whistled
over his and Bradley's heads. Crack went Bradley's rifle again--"And
you would have thought," said Don Luis to us, "that the ball had split
into four pieces, and had given each man a tender touch, for they
wheeled round their horses in an instant, and galloped off, driving
Malcolm's horse before them, which we never saw again."
Don Luis then went on to say, that as soon as they saw the coast was
clear, they left their cover and sought out Malcolm, who was lying on
the ground with the lasso lightly pinioning his arms, and to all
appearance dead. On a closer examination, however, they found that he
still breathed, and also that he had been severely trampled on by some
of the horses of the robbers in their retreat. Bradley pulled out his
bowie-knife and cut the lasso in a few moments, when they tried to
raise him up, but found that the injuries he had sustained prevented
him from standing. He was, in fact, quite insensible. At that moment
they were alarmed by the sound of voices, and looking round they saw a
party of horsemen riding up at full speed from the direction of the
Sacramento. They gave themselves up for lost, but, to their delight,
the new-comers proved to be a party of miners, who hearing so many
rifle-reports in such rapid succession, had immediately hastened to the
spot. Don Luis supposed that the robbers had seen their approach, and
that this, and not the bullet from Bradley's rifle, had been the cause
of the scoundrels' precipitate retreat. They found the Indian's horse,
to the saddle of which the lasso was attached, quite dead. The Indian
himself had managed to crawl off, though doubtless much hurt, as Don
Luis saw the horse roll right over him. The body of the robber shot by
Bradley was found; life was quite extinct, the ball having passed
through his chest in a transverse direction, evidently penetrating the
heart. He was recognised by some of the miners--natives of the
country--as one of the disbanded soldiers of the late Californian army,
by name Tomas Maria Carillo; a man of the very worst character, who had
connected himself with a small band of depredators, whose occupation
was to lie in wait at convenient spots along the roads in the
neighbourhood of the sea' coast, and from thence to pounce upon and
plunder any unfortunate merchant or ranchero that might be passing
unprotected that way. The gang had now evidently abandoned the coast to
try their fortune in the neighbourhood of the mines, and, judging from
the accounts which one of the miners gave of the number of robberies
that had recently taken place about there, their mission had been
eminently successful.
"Our first care," continued Don Luis, "was to see to poor Malcolm, and
our next object was to go in pursuit of the ruffians. On intimating as
much to our new friends, to our surprise they declined to render us any
assistance. Their curiosity, which it seems was the only motive that
brought them towards us, had been satisfied, and I felt disgusted at
the brutality of their conduct when they coolly turned their horses'
heads round, and left us alone with our dying friend, not deigning
further to notice our appeals to them for assistance. No, they must set
to work again, digging and washing, and we might thank ourselves that
their coming up had saved _our_ lives; this was the burthen of their
reply. In their eager pursuit of gold, they had not a moment to spare
for the commonest offices of Christian charity. At length," said Don
Luis, "in answer to my passionate expostulations, backed by the offer
of any reward they might demand--which offer alone gave force to my
words--two of them consented to return in about an hour with a litter
to convey Malcolm to their camp.
"The litter they brought was formed of branches of trees tied together,
and covered thickly over with blankets. On this Malcolm was slowly
borne down the hill-side, until a rude shanty was reached. He was
carried inside, and we were fortunate enough to meet with a kind
Californian woman, who promised to attend on him while we returned here
for your assistance."
In reply to my inquiries, Don Luis said that he thought there were no
bones broken, but poor Malcolm was dreadfully bruised, and his flesh in
parts much lacerated. He feared, however, that he had experienced some
severe internal injuries. As it was utterly impossible for me to have
found my way to him that night, I determined to take a short nap and
hurry to him the following morning.
During Don Luis's recital I did not for one moment think of the gold
which we had lost; all my sympathies were with my poor friend. But, at
the conclusion of Don Luis's narrative, I saw that but few of my
associates participated in my grief. Don Luis was immediately assailed
with inquiries rudely addressed to him in reference to the missing
gold. In reply, he stated that we all knew that Malcolm carried in his
saddle-bags the great bulk of the gold they were conveying to San
Francisco; and that, of course, when the robbers drove off the horse,
the gold went with it. "It is the doctor you have to thank for that,"
growled out Bradley; and though I could not see the matter in this
light, still I could not help thinking of my own distrustful
disposition, which, in reality, had been the cause of making Malcolm a
party to the conveyance of the treasure; this, in fact, had in all
probability sacrificed my friend's life. I thought of his poor wife and
children in Oregon, who would bewailing in vain for his return, which
he, poor follow, had delayed so long, in the hope of going back to them
laden with wealth. Throughout the whole of the night most of the party
remained gathered around the camp-fire-now in sullen silence, and now
expressing their bitter dissatisfaction at the arrangements which had
led to the day's misfortune. And when the first faint light of daybreak
showed over the tall peaks of the snowy mountains, it discovered us
looking haggard and dejected, alike wearied and disgusted with
everything around.