ITALIAN BAR
As now we are all settled down to our various occupations, Yank of
patience, Johnny of delighted adventuring, and myself of dogged
industry, it might be well to give you some sort of a notion of Italian
Bar, as this new camp was called. I saw a great deal of it, more than I
really wished, for out of working hours I much frequented it in the
vague hope of keeping tabs on its activities for Johnny's sake.
It was situated on one of the main overland trails, and that was
possibly the only reason its rich diggings had not been sooner
discovered--it was too accessible! The hordes of immigrants dragged
through the dusty main street, sometimes in an almost unending
procession. More of them hereafter; they were in general a sad lot. Some
of them were always encamped in the flats below town; and about one of
the stores a number of them could be seen trying to screw their
resolution up to paying the appalling prices for necessities. The
majority had no spare money, and rarely any spirit left; and nobody paid
much attention to them except to play practical jokes on them. Very few
if any of this influx stopped at Italian Bar. Again it was too
accessible. They had their vision fixed hypnotically on the West, and
westward they would push until they bumped the Pacific Ocean. Of course
a great many were no such dumb creatures, but were capable, self-reliant
men who knew what they were about and where they were going. Nobody
tried to play any practical jokes on them.
Of the regular population I suppose three fourths were engaged in gold
washing. The miners did not differ from those of their class anywhere
else; that is to say, they were of all nationalities, all classes of
life, and all degrees of moral responsibility. They worked doggedly and
fast in order to get as much done as possible before the seasonal rains.
When night fell the most of them returned to their cabins and slept the
sleep of the weary; with a weekly foray into town of a more or less
lurid character. They had no time for much else, in their notion; and on
that account were, probably unconsciously, the most selfish community I
ever saw. There was a great deal of sickness, and many deaths, but
unless a man had a partner or a friend to give him some care, he might
die in his cabin for all the attention any one else would pay him. In
the same spirit only direct personal interest would arouse in any of
them the least indignation over the only too frequent killings and
robberies.
"They found a man shot by the Upper Bend this morning," remarks one to
his neighbour.
"That so? Who was he?" asks the other.
"Don't know. Didn't hear," is the reply.
The barroom or street killings, which averaged in number at least two or
three a week, while furnishing more excitement, aroused very little more
real interest. Open and above-board homicides of that sort were always
the result of differences of opinion. If the victim had a friend, the
latter might go gunning for his pal's slayer; but nobody had enough
personal friends to elevate any such row to the proportions of a general
feud.
All inquests were set aside until Sunday. A rough and ready public
meeting invariably brought in the same verdict--"justifiable
self-defence." At these times, too, popular justice was dispensed, but
carelessly and not at all in the spirit of the court presided over by
John Semple at Hangman's Gulch. A general air of levity characterized
these occasions, which might strike as swift and deadly a blow as a
shaft of lightning, or might puff away as harmlessly as a summer zephyr.
Many a time, until I learned philosophically to stay away, did my blood
boil over the haphazard way these men had of disposing of some poor
creature's destinies.
"Here's a Mex thief," observed the chair. "What do you want done with
him?"
"Move we cut off his ears!" yelled a voice from the back of the crowd.
"Make it fifty lashes!" shouted another.
A wrangle at once started between the advocates of cropping and the
whip. The crowd wearied of it.
"Let the ---- ---- ---- go!" suggested someone.
And this motion was carried with acclamation. No evidence was offered or
asked as to the extent of the man's guilt, or indeed if he was guilty at
all!
The meeting had a grim sense of humour, and enjoyed nothing more than
really elaborate foolery. Such as, for example, the celebrated case of
Pio Chino's bronco.
Pio Chino was a _cargador_ running a train of pack-mules into some
back-country camp. His bell mare was an ancient white animal with long
shaggy hair, ewe neck, bulging joints, a placid wall eye, the full
complement of ribs, and an extraordinarily long Roman nose ending in a
pendulous lip. Yet fifteen besotted mules thought her beautiful, and
followed her slavishly, in which fact lay her only value. Now somebody,
probably for a joke, "lifted" this ancient wreck from poor Chino on the
ground that it had never been Chino's property anyway. Chino, with
childlike faith in the dignity of institutions, brought the matter
before the weekly court.
That body took charge with immense satisfaction. It appointed lawyers
for the prosecution and the defence.
Prosecution started to submit Chino's claim.
Defence immediately objected on the ground that Chino, being a person of
colour, was not qualified to testify against a white man.
This point was wrangled over with great relish for an hour or more. Then
two solemn individuals were introduced as experts to decide whether
Chino was a man of colour, or, as the prosecution passionately
maintained, a noble, great-minded and patriotic California member of the
Caucasian race.
"Gentlemen," the court addressed this pair, "is there any infallible
method by which your science is able to distinguish between a nigger and
a white man?"
"There is," answered one of the "experts."
"What?"
"The back teeth of a white man have small roots reaching straight down,"
expounded the "expert" solemnly, "while those of a negro have roots
branching in every direction."
"And how do you expect to determine this case?"
"By extracting one or more of the party's back teeth," announced the
"expert" gravely, at the same time producing a huge pair of horseshoeing
nippers.
Chino uttered a howl, but was violently restrained from bolting. He was
understood to say that he didn't want that mare. I should not have been
a bit surprised if they had carried the idea of extraction to a finish;
but the counsel for defence interposed, waiving the point. He did not
want the fun to come to that sort of a termination.
Prosecution then offered the evidence of Chino's brand. Now that old
mare was branded from muzzle to tail, and on both sides. She must have
been sold and resold four or five times for every year of her long and
useful life. The network of brands was absolutely indecipherable.
"Shave her!" yelled some genius.
That idea caught hold. The entire gathering took an interest in the
operation, which half a dozen men performed. They shaved that poor old
mare from nose to the tip of her ratlike tail. Not even an eye-winker
was left to her. She resembled nothing so much as one of the sluglike
little Mexican hairless dogs we had seen on the Isthmus. The brands now
showed plainly enough, but were as complicated as ever in appearance.
Thunders of mock forensic oratory shook the air. I remember defence
acknowledged that in that multiplicity of lines the figure of Chino's
brand could be traced; but pointed to the stars of the heavens and the
figures of their constellations to prove what could be done by a vivid
imagination in evolving fancy patterns. By this time it was late, and
court was adjourned until next week.
The following Sunday, after a tremendous legal battle, conducted with
the relishing solemnity with which Americans like to take their fooling,
it was decided to call in an expert on brands, and a certain California
rancher ten miles distant was agreed upon.
"But," objected the defence, "he is a countryman of the complainant.
However honest, he will nevertheless sympathize with his own blood.
Before the case is put before him, he should view these brands as an
unprejudiced observer. I suggest that they be transcribed to paper and
submitted to him without explanation."
This appealed to the crowd. The astonished mare was again led out, and
careful drawings made of her most remarkable sides. Then the case was
again adjourned one week.
On that day the Californian was on hand, very grave, very much dressed
up, very flattered at being called as an expert in anything. The drawing
was laid before him.
"Don Luis," said the court formally, "what do you, as expert, make of
that?"
Don Luis bent his grave Spanish head over the document for some minutes.
Then he turned it upside down and examined it again; sideways; the other
end. When he looked up a little twinkle of humour lurked deep in his
black eyes, but his face was solemn and ceremonious.
"Well, Don Luis," repeated the court, "what do you make of it?"
"Senor," replied Don Luis courteously, "it looks to me like a most
excellent map of Sonora."
When the crowd had quieted down after this, the court ordered the animal
brought forth.
"May it please y'r honour, the critter got a chill and done died,"
announced the cadaverous Missourian, to whose care the animal had been
confided.
"H'm," said the court. "Well, here's the court's decision in this case.
Pio Chino fined one drink for taking up our valuable time; Abe Sellers
fined one drink for claiming such an old crow-bait on any grounds; Sam
is fined one drink for not putting a blanket on that mare." ("I only got
one blanket myself!" cried the grieved Missourian.) "The fines must be
paid in to the court at the close of this session."
Hugely tickled, the meeting arose. Pio Chino, to whom the tidings of his
bell mare's demise was evidently news, stood the picture of dejected
woe. His downcast figure attracted the careless attention of one of the
men.
"Here boys!" he yelled, snatching off his hat. "This ain't so damn funny
for Chino here!" He passed the hat among the crowd. They tossed in gold,
good-naturedly, abundantly, with a laugh. Nobody knows what amount was
dumped into the astounded Chino's old sombrero; but the mare was
certainly not worth over fifteen dollars. If some one had dragged Chino
before that same gathering under unsupported accusation of any sort, it
would as cheerfully and thoughtlessly have hung him.
Of the gambling places, one only--that conducted by Danny Randall and
called the Bella Union--inspired any sort of confidence. The other two
were frequented by a rough, insolent crew, given to sudden silences in
presence of newcomers, good-humoured after a wild and disconcerting
fashion, plunging heavily at the gaming tables and drinking as heavily
at the bars. This is not to imply that any strong line of demarcation
existed between the habitues of one or the other of these places. When
an inhabitant of Italian Bar started out for relaxation, he visited
everything there was to visit, and drifted impartially between Morton's,
Randall's Bella Union, and the Empire. There was a good deal of noise
and loud talk in any of them; and occasionally a pistol shot. This was
generally a signal for most of the bystanders to break out through the
doors and windows, and for the gayly inclined to shoot out the lights.
The latter feat has often been cited admiringly as testifying to a high
degree of marksmanship, but as a matter of fact the wind and concussion
from the heavy revolver bullets were quite sufficient to put out any
lamp to which the missiles passed reasonably close. Sometimes these
affrays resulted in material for the Sunday inquests; but it is
astonishing how easily men can miss each other at close range. Most of
the shootings were the results of drunken quarrels. For that reason the
professed gunmen were rarely involved. One who possessed an established
reputation was let alone by the ordinary citizen; and most severely
alone by the swaggering bullies, of whom there were not a few. These
latter found prey for their queer stripe of vanity among the young, the
weak, and the drunken. I do not hesitate to say that any man of
determined character could keep out of trouble even in the worst days of
the camp, provided he had no tempting wealth, attended to his own
affairs, and maintained a quiet though resolute demeanour.
When in camp Johnny and his two companions shone as bright particular
stars. They were only boys, and they had blossomed out in wonderful
garments. Johnny had a Californian sombrero with steeple crown loaded
with silver ornaments, and a pair of Spanish spurs heavily inlaid with
the same metal, a Chinese scarf about his neck, and a short jacket
embroidered with silver thread. But most astonishing of all was a large
off-colour diamond set in a ring, through which he ran the ends of his
scarf. Parenthetically, it was from this that he got his sobriquet of
Diamond Jack. I had a good deal of fun laughing at Johnny, but he didn't
mind.
"This diamond," he pointed out, "is just as good as gold dust, it's
easier carried, and I can have some fun out of it."
I am afraid he and Old Hickory Pine and Cal Marsh did a bit of
swaggering while in town. They took a day to the down trip, and jogged
back in a day and a half, stopping in Sacramento only the extra half
day. Then they rested with us one day, and were off the next. Thus they
accomplished seven or eight trips in the month. Both Old and Cal had the
reputation of being quick, accurate shots, although I have never seen
them perform. As the three of them were absolutely inseparable they made
a formidable combination that nothing but an organized gang would care
to tackle. Consequently they swaggered as much as they pleased. At
bottom they were good, clean, attractive boys, who were engaged in an
adventure that was thrilling enough in sober reality, but which they
loved to deck forth in further romance. They one and all assumed the
stern, aloof, lofty pose of those whose affairs were too weighty to
permit mingling with ordinary amusements. Their speech was laconic,
their manners grave, their attitude self-contained. It was a good thing,
I believe; for outside the fact that it kept them out of quarrels, it
kept them also out of drinking and gambling.
I made many acquaintances of course, but only a few friends. The best of
these were Dr. Rankin and Danny Randall. Strangely enough, these two
were great pals. Danny had a little room back of the Bella Union
furnished out with a round table, a dozen chairs, and a sofa. Here he
loved to retire with his personal friends to sip drinks, smoke, and to
discuss all sorts of matters. A little glassless window gave into the
Bella Union, and as the floor of the little room was raised a foot or
so, Danny sat where he could see everything that went on. These
gatherings varied in number, but never exceeded the capacity of the
dozen chairs. I do not know how Danny had caused it to be understood
that these were invitation affairs, but understood it was, and no one
ever presumed to intrude unbidden into the little room. Danny selected
his company as the fancy took him.
As to why he should so often have chosen me I must again confess
ignorance. Perhaps because I was a good listener. If so, the third
member of a very frequent triumvirate, Dr. Rankin, was invited for the
opposite quality. The doctor was a great talker, an analyst of
conditions, and a philosophical spectator. The most frequent theme of
our talks was the prevalence of disorder. On this subject the doctor had
very decided views.
"There is disorder because we shirk our duty as a community," he stated,
"and we shirk our duty as a community because we believe in our hearts
that we aren't a community. What does Jones or Smith or Robinson or
anybody else really care for Italian Bar as a place; or, indeed, for
California as a place? Not a tinker's damn! He came out here in the
first place to make his pile, and in the second place to have a good
time. He isn't dependent on any one's good opinion, as he used to be at
home. He refuses to be bothered with responsibilities and he doesn't
need to be. Why a pan miner needn't even speak to his next neighbour
unless he wants to; and a cradle miner need bother only with his
partners!"
"Miners' meetings have done some pretty good legislation," I pointed
out.
"Legislation; yes!" cried the doctor. "Haven't you discovered that the
American has a perfect genius for organization? Eight coal heavers on a
desert island would in a week have a full list of officers, a code of
laws, and would be wrangling over ridiculous parliamentary points of
order in their meetings. That's just the trouble. The ease with which
Americans can sketch out a state on paper is an anodyne to conscience.
We get together and pass a lot of resolutions, and go away with a
satisfied feeling that we've really done something."
"But I believe a camp like this may prove permanent," objected Randall.
"Exactly. And by that very fact a social obligation comes into
existence. Trouble is, every mother's son tries to escape it in his own
case. What is every one's business is no one's business. Every fellow
thinks he's got away from being bothered with such things. Sooner or
later he'll find out he hasn't, and then he'll have to pay for his
vacation."
"We never stood for much thieving at Hangman's Gulch," I interposed.
"What did you do?"
"We whipped and sent them about their business."
"To some other camp. You merely passed on your responsibility; you
didn't settle it. Your whipping merely meant turning loose a revengeful
and desperate man. Your various banishments merely meant your exchanging
these fiends with the other camps. It's like scattering the coyotes that
come around your fire."
"What would you do, Doctor?" asked Randall quietly; "we have no regular
law."
"Why not? Why don't you adopt a little regular law? You need about three
in this camp--against killing, against thievery, and against assault.
Only enforce in every instance, as far as possible."
"You can't get this crowd to take time investigating the troubles of
some man they never heard of."
"Exactly."
"And if they get too bad," said Danny, "we'll have to get the stranglers
busy."
"Confound it, man!" roared Dr. Rankin, beating the table, "that's just
what I've been trying to tell you. You ought not to care so much for
punishing as for deterring. Don't you know that it's a commonplace that
it isn't the terrifying quality of the penalty that acts as a deterrent
to crime, but it's the certainty of the penalty! If a horse thief knows
that there's merely a chance the community will get mad enough to hang
him, he'll take that chance in hopes this may not be the time. If, on
the other hand, he knows that _every time_ he steals a horse he's
going to be caught and fined even, he thinks a long time before he
steals it."
"All that's true, Doctor," said Danny, "as theory; but now I'm coming to
bat with a little practice. Here's the camp of Italian Bar in the year
1849. What would you do?"
"Elect the proper officers and enforce the law," answered the doctor
promptly.
"Who would you elect?"
"There are plenty of good men here."
"Name me any one who would take the job. The good men are all washing
gold; and they're in a hurry to finish before the rains. I don't care
who you're about to name--if anybody; this is about what he'd say: 'I
can't afford to leave my claim; I didn't come out here to risk my life
in that sort of a row; I am leaving for the city when the rains begin,
and I don't know that I'll come back to Italian Bar next season!'"
"Make it worth their while. Pay them," insisted the doctor stoutly.
"And how's the money to pay them to be collected? You'd have to create
the officers of a government--and pay _them_."
"Well, why not?"
"At the election, who would take interest to elect a decent man, even if
you could get hold of one? Not the other decent men. They're too busy,
and too little interested. But the desperadoes and hard characters would
be very much interested in getting some of their own stripe in office.
The chances are they would be coming back to Italian Bar next season,
especially if they had the legal machinery for keeping themselves out of
trouble. You'd simply put yourself in their power."
Dr. Rankin shook his head.
"Just the same, you'll see that I am right," he prophesied. "This
illusion of freedom to the social obligation is only an illusion. It
will have to be paid for with added violence and turmoil."
"Why, I believe you're right as to that, Doctor," agreed Danny, "but
I've discovered that often in this world a man has to pay a high price
for what he gets. In fact, sometimes it's very expedient to pay a high
price."
"I can foresee a lot of violence before the thing is worked out."
At this point the doctor, to his manifest disgust, was summoned to
attend to some patient.
"That all sounds interesting," said I to Danny Randall once we were
alone, "but I don't exactly fit it in."
"It means," said Danny, "that some day Morton's gang will go a little
too far, and we'll have to get together and string some of them up."