CAUGHT IN THE FLOOD
In July, 1849, the tide of gold-seekers had not yet set in at its
greatest flow. It was too early in the year for the thousands of
emigrants coming across the plains and the mountains to the east or for
those journeying by ship from the more distant parts of the world to
have reached the Eldorado of their golden hopes; but from every
inhabited part of California and the region to the north, from Mexico
and the Pacific coast southward and from the nearer islands of the
Pacific a constant stream of gold-seekers had been flowing into the gold
regions for nearly a year. Those coming by ship landed at San Francisco;
and from there reëmbarked in smaller boats and were carried up the
Sacramento River to Sacramento City, the nearest point to the mines
reached by boat, or made the journey overland on horseback, or with
mule- or horse- or oxen-drawn wagons, or even on foot. Many of the
Mexicans and a few of the South Americans came overland, while nearly
all of those coming from Oregon territory, whither many emigrants had
gone from the States during the past few years, made the journey
southward to Sacramento City the same way they had crossed the great
plains and the mountains, when they had sought new homes in the Great
Northwest a few years before--that is, by way of the prairie-schooner,
afoot and on horseback, traveling in small companies for mutual
protection.
All of these different streams of inflowing gold-seekers were too far
south for Thure and Bud to strike until they were nearly to Sacramento
City, except that from Oregon, flowing from the north; and they hardly
expected to find this stream still flowing, since those regions were
supposed to have been already drained of all their gold-seeking
inhabitants. But, hardly had they ridden an hour on their way that
morning, when, on coming to the top of a low ridge of hills and looking
down into the valley beyond, they saw half a dozen white-topped wagons,
accompanied by a number of men, some on horseback and some afoot, a
couple of miles ahead of them and about to pass over another ridge of
hills.
"Hurrah!" yelled Thure, at sight of the wagons and the men. "I'll bet a
coon skin that they are bound for Sacramento City and the gold-diggings,
too. Come, let's hurry up our horses and see if we can't overtake them.
I'll feel a lot safer when we're in with that crowd," and his keen eyes
glanced swiftly over the valley in front of them. "There are too many
places along this trail, where them skunks could hide and shoot us
without our getting a shot back at them, to suit me. But they will
hardly venture to take a shot at us, while we are with a crowd of armed
men like that. Hurrah! Come on!" and, striking his pack-horse with his
whip, Thure hurried on down the hill.
A couple of hours later the two boys overtook the slower-moving train of
wagons; and were given a hearty welcome by the gaunt, roughly dressed
and rougher-looking men, who, as they had surmised, were bound for the
gold-mines.
Thure, as they joined the little company of prospective miners, turned
and looked backward, just in time to see two horsemen appear on the brow
of a distant hill, halt their horses and sit staring in their direction
for a couple of minutes; and then, wheeling their horses about disappear
down the other side of the hill.
"Queer!" thought Thure. "I should think they'd be only too glad to join
us, unless," and his heart gave a jump at the thought, "unless they were
Brokennose and Pockface following on our trail! I wonder--"
But here the men of the wagon-train, gathering excitedly about him and
all eagerly asking questions, drove all further thoughts of the two
solitary horsemen out of his head.
There were fifteen men, two women, and three children--a girl of
fourteen and two boys thirteen years old--in the company; and all had
come from the great wilderness to the north, whither they had gone from
the States some three years before. They had been traveling for many
days southward, through a wilderness inhabited only by wild beasts and
Indians, without seeing a human being, except a few Indians, although
they had passed a number of deserted ranchos on their way down the
Sacramento Valley, until Thure and Bud rode into their midst. All the
men were armed with long-barreled rifles, huge knives, and some of them,
in addition, carried a pistol or a revolver. They were dressed for the
most part in deerskins and their hair and beards had grown so long, that
only their bright eyes and bronzed noses and gleaming white teeth, when
they smiled or opened their mouths, were visible. All the other features
of their faces were hidden behind matted locks of hair. The faces of the
women and the children had been browned by the sun, until they were
nearly of the color of Indians, and their clothing was soiled and worn;
but all were clear-eyed and looked as if they did not know what a bodily
ache or pain was.
Thure and Bud were too familiar with this type of wilderness manhood to
be worried in the least over their rough looks and dress. They knew
something of the real men that usually dwelt within these rough
exteriors--the men who hewed the way for civilization through the
wilderness, the men of the rifle, the trap, and the ax, strong and
sturdy and as gnarled and knotted as the oaks of their own forests, yet
as true to a friend or to the right as they saw it, as the balls in
their rifles were to their sights--and neither boy hesitated an instant
to accept their invitation to "jog along" with them to Sacramento City.
For a few minutes the whole company halted and crowded excitedly around
Thure and Bud. They had heard no news of the world outside of their
little company for many days; and they were especially anxious to hear
the latest news from the diggings.
"Sure th' gold ain't petered out yit?" queried one of the men anxiously.
"No," answered Thure, smiling. "According to dad's last letter they were
discovering new diggings almost every day and all the old diggings were
still panning out well. Why, he wrote that the fellow who had the claim
right next to his claim had found a pocket the day before, out of which
he had taken in one day one thousand dollars' worth of gold nuggets!"
"Say, young man," and a great, huge-boned, lank man crowded eagerly up
to Thure's side, "jest say them words over ag'in; an' say 'em loud, so
that Sal can hear. She's bin callin' me a fool regular 'bout every hour
since we started for th' diggings. Says she'll eat all th' gold I find
an' won't have no stumick-ake neither. Now, listen, Sal," and he turned
excitedly to one of the two women, who stood together on the outskirts
of the little crowd of men around Thure and Bud. "Jest listen tew what
this boy's own dad rit home," and again he turned his eager eyes on
Thure's face.
Thure laughed and repeated, in a louder voice, the story of the miner's
good luck.
"Did you hear that, Sal?" and again the big man turned excitedly to the
woman. "One Thousand Dollars' wurth of gold nuggets picked right up out
of a hole in th' ground in one day! Gosh, that's more gold than we ever
seed in our lives! An' he found it all in one day! Good lord! in ten
days he'd have Ten Thousand Dollars! An' in one hundred days he'd have
One Hundred Thousand Dollars!" he almost shouted.
"Well, what if he did have one hundred thousand dollars! What good would
that do you? That's what I'd like tew know, Tim Perkins? He'd have th'
gold, not you, wouldn't he?" and the woman turned a thin care-worn face
to her big husband.
"But," and the big fellow's eyes fairly shone with enthusiasm, "can't
you see, Sal, that that proves that th' gold is thar; an', th' gold
bein' thar, I stand as good a chance as anybody else of runnin' ontew a
pocket like that. Good lord, a Thousand Dollars in One Day! Think of
what that would mean tew us, Sal! Edication for th' boy an' gal, a
comfortable home for us as long as we live! If we could only have sech
luck! An' I've bin dreamin' of findin' gold almost every night since we
hooked up an' started for th' diggin's!"
"An' your dreamin' always comes true!" replied Mrs. Perkins scornfully.
"Well, I've only got this tew say, an', if I've sed it onct, I've sed it
a hundred times, this is our last wild-goose chasin' trip. You'll settle
down for keeps, th' next time you settle down, Tim Perkins, gold or no
gold; or you'll do your chasin' alone," and she turned and climbed back
into one of the wagons, not at all moved by her big husband's
enthusiasm.
"Sal's some downhearted," the big fellow explained to Thure, "'cause
things ain't turned out for us like we expected since comin' tew Oregon.
But," and his face lighted up again, "jest wait till I make my strike in
th' diggings an' nuthin' 'll be tew good for her an' th' yunks."
"Do you reckon we can make Sacramento City tew-night?" here broke in one
of the men anxiously. "We was a calculatin' that we might."
"Yes," answered Thure, "if you are willing to travel late; but you'll
have to hustle to do it."
"Then we'll hustle," declared the man, who appeared to be the captain of
the little company. "Everybody who wants tew git to Sacramento City
tew-night git a-goin'," he shouted. "Th' gold stories'll keep till we
git thar," and he hurried away to his own wagon, which was in the van;
and soon, with much loud shouting and the cracking of the long lashes of
whips, the little train of wagons was again in motion.
Thure and Bud fell in at once by the side of the leader, who, learning
that they were familiar with the trail to Sacramento City, had asked
them to act as guides.
All the wagons were drawn by big raw-boned and long-legged mules; and
the two boys soon found that they had to use their whips freely on their
sturdy little pack-horses in order to hold their places in the train.
All day long they pressed steadily forward, as fast as mule legs could
drag the heavy wagons; and, a little before night, they struck the
northern trail from San Francisco to Sacramento City, now a
well-traveled road. Here, for the first time, Thure and Bud began to get
something of an idea of what the rush to the gold-mines was like. There
were some twenty-five wagons, a hundred or more horsemen, and many men
on foot in sight of their eyes, when their wagons swung around a small
hill and on to the trail, now hardened into a road by the thousands of
wheels and hoofs that had recently passed over it; and all were hurrying
forward, as if they were fearful they would be too late to reap any of
the golden harvest.
"Great buffaloes!" and Tim Perkins turned anxiously to Thure, by whose
side he was riding, "dew you reckon all them folks are bound for the
diggin's?"
"Yes," answered Thure. "Can't you see that everyone is armed with a pick
and shovel and gold-pan? Why, even the men on foot are lugging picks and
shovels and gold-pans on their backs!"
"An'," continued Tim, the anxious look on his face deepening, "dew you
reckon they've bin a-tearin' over th' trail tew th' diggin's like this
for long; or is this jest a stampede we have struck?"
"A ship has probably landed at San Francisco lately," Thure replied;
"and these are some of the gold-seekers who came in it. But I don't
think from what I have heard that what we are seeing is an unusual sight
along this trail. They've been rushing to the mines like a herd of
stampeding cattle for months."
"Gosh! I'm afeard they'll find all th' gold afore we git thar! If
'twon't for Sal an' th yunks I'd hurry on ahead. Dang it, if I was only
thar right now I might be discoverin' a pocket full of gold, like that
miner aside your dad did, at this identical moment! Hi, thar, Jud," and
he turned his eyes glowing with excitement to the face of the
train-captain, "let's see if we can't git ahead of some of this tarnel
crowd; or they'll be a-landin' on all the good spots afore we git thar."
"Now, jest keep a tight rein on your hosses, Perkins," grinned Jud
Smith, the leader of the little company of Oregon gold-seekers; "an'
rekerleck th' old sayin' 'th' more haste th' less speed,' But," and an
uneasy look came into his own eyes, "it sure does look like all creation
had started for th' diggin's. See, they're still a-comin' as far back as
th' eyes can reach! I reckon we had better try an' hit up a leetle
livelier gait. G'lang, thar, you long-eared repteels!" and the long lash
of his whip hissed through the air and cracked, like the report of a
pistol, over the heads of his leading mules.
Indeed, it seemed to be impossible for even the sanest of men to mingle
long with a crowd of hurrying gold-seekers and think of what they were
hurrying for, and not catch the fever of unreasoning haste. The thought
that they might be too late, that each moment they might be missing a
golden opportunity by not being on the spot, seemed to obsess all minds;
and the nearer they got to the gold-fields the greater became this
excitement and hurry, until it degenerated into little more than a wild
stampede of gold-mad men.
And no wonder! for the nearer they got to the mines the bigger the
stories seemed to grow of the wonderful gold finds that were being made.
Nay, more than this! They now sometimes actually saw the gold and
actually met the men who had found it, as they were returning to the
comforts and pleasures of civilization, actually burdened down with the
weight of the precious metal they were carrying! And, what if all this
gold should all be dug up before they got to the mines! The thought was
enough to put the fever of haste into the blood of any man.
The knowledge of having the skin map and the thought of the Cave of Gold
to which it pointed the way, did not keep Thure and Bud from feeling
this excitement, this wild desire to hurry, as their little company
swung into line on the trail and rushed madly on with the rest. True the
skin map and the gold nugget, still in the miner's buckskin bag, hung,
safely hidden, under the armpit of Thure's left shoulder; but the old
miner himself had found the Cave of Gold, and, if he had found it, why
might not some other man find it? That was the disturbing thought that
had troubled the two boys all along; and now, when they began to realize
how great was the flood of gold-seekers constantly pouring into the
mining regions and how their keen eyes would be searching everywhere,
their anxiety to get to their fathers as quickly as possible grew apace,
until they were almost as eager to reach the mines as was Tim Perkins
himself; and, by a constant urging of their pack-horses, managed to keep
their places with Jud Smith and his company.
However, in spite of all their hurrying, it was after nine o'clock at
night and dark before they reached the west bank of the Sacramento River
opposite Sacramento City. Here they found a hundred wagons and many
animals and men ahead of them, waiting to be ferried across the river;
and, to their very great disappointment, they were obliged to wait until
the next morning before crossing over to Sacramento City.
"Well, we are within sight of Sacramento City anyhow," declared Thure,
when Jud Smith returned from the ferry with the news that they would be
obliged to camp on that side of the river for the night; "and, I reckon,
it is just as well that we don't cross over to-night. I'll feel just a
little better entering a town like that in the clear light of day," and
his eyes looked in astonishment and wonder across the dark waters of the
river to where the myriad lights of Sacramento City shone along the
opposite bank.
The last time Thure had stood where he was now standing, only a little
over a year ago, and looked across the Sacramento River, not a sign of a
human habitation was in sight where now shone the thousands of lights of
a busy city!
"Isn't it a wonderful sight!" exclaimed Bud, as the two boys stood a
little later on the river bank, staring, with fascinated eyes, across
the water. "Looks more like a dream-city, or a scene in fairyland, than
it does like a real town inhabited by real people."
And Bud was right. It was a marvelous sight that the two boys were
looking at, a sight the like of which, probably, no human eye will ever
look upon again.
Along the river bank for a mile or more and stretching back from the
water's edge up the slope of the low-lying hills, glowed and sparkled a
city of tents, pitched in the midst of a virgin forest of huge oak and
sycamore trees. It is impossible for words to convey to the mind the
mystic charm of this wonderful city of light, when seen by night across
the dark waters of the river. Nearly all the houses were but rude frames
walled with canvas, or merely tents; and, in the darkness, the lights
within transformed these into dwellings of solid light, that glowed in
rows along the river front, their lights reflected in the water, and
straggled in glowing rows of light up the hillsides and underneath the
dark overhanging branches of great trees, while here and there through
the general glow shone out brilliant points of light, the decoy-lamps of
the gambling-houses and the saloons. And, for a background to all this,
the shadowy darkness of the surrounding night!
Thure and Bud were very tired; but they stood for many minutes looking
on this wondrous and fairylike scene, half expecting to see it all
vanish instantly at the wave of some magician's wand, before they turned
to prepare for the night. On their way back to camp and just as they
were passing a large camp-fire, they met two horsemen riding down toward
the ferry.
"No crossing to-night!" called out Thure.
The two horsemen turned their faces in their direction; and both boys
started, for, by the light of the camp-fire, they saw that one of the
men was large and the other was small and that the nose of the large man
had been broken, and then the darkness hid their faces from their sight,
as the two horsemen hurried on without uttering a word in reply.