town of Gold Hill, for which Mr. Adams himself was elected _alcalde_,
or mayor, and Mrs. Motte clerk. But the development of the Golden West
mine went ahead much more slowly. Paying mines, especially lode mines,
do not grow up in a day, or a week, or a month. The surface rock could
be loosened with pick and crow-bar, and pulverized and washed, to get
some gold, but the hard rock below the surface required special
machinery, for treatment.
So pending the arrival of the machinery the work was all development
work: picking here and there, digging a few tunnels, and much exploring
and planning. Hard work it was, too. However, the weather continued
to hold fine and sunny and crisp, in the early fall a light snow fell
but soon disappeared, and an Indian summer set in. There was hunting
for deer and elk, and fun, evenings, in the camp--but something seemed
lacking. What that was, Charley found out, when one morning Billy
hailed him excitedly.
"Say! Hurrah! Do you know it?"
"No," admitted Charley.
"My father and yours are going to send for my mother and yours! They
might be out here with us as well as not. See? They'll be company for
Mrs. Motte. She's having a great time, and loves it. If she can stand
it, they can--and besides, we want 'em."
Want 'em? Want his mother! Charley let out a wild whoop, and rushed
for his father, who greeted him with a twinkle. Why, that was the very
thing lacking--his mother! Of course it was. And now----!
"Do you think it will be Christmas present enough for you?" queried his
father. "They'll have just about time to get here for Christmas, we
figure."
Surely nothing, not even another Golden West mine, could be half so
good for a Christmas present.
Time fairly dragged, despite the busy days. Development work
proceeded, but better far and more interesting were the two cabins that
were being put up, in readiness for the great day. And suddenly (for
all things come to him who waits!) Charley and Billy found themselves
actually delegated to go down to San Francisco--just they two--and meet
two Somebodies at the steamer pier!
It seemed great to be sent on such an errand; and it gave one rather an
important feeling to be alone and responsible in a city like San
Francisco. By way of Sacramento and the river and bay they landed
there--two real miners from the hills, clad in their miner costumes.
They had intended to put up at the Parker-house; but at Sacramento
rumors of a great fire reached them, and sure enough, they found San
Francisco still smouldering. For in the middle of December fire had
swept through all the flimsy buildings of down town. The whole of
Portsmouth Square lay in ashes. However, already new buildings were
going up as fast as hands could work. Nobody seemed discouraged, but
toiled with a cheer. The floor beams of another Parker-house had been
placed--and this new Parker-house was to be of brick! Good for San
Francisco!
That night Charley and Billy slept in a large tent that had been
erected by the Parker-house to take care of what patrons it could.
Charley had tried to show his partner the "sights," but in only those
few months San Francisco had changed amazingly. It had doubled in
population since that date when the steamer California had landed the
Adams party in the bay, and its people had changed, too. Why, there
were as well-dressed men and women on the streets as in St. Louis; and
some of the stores which had not burned were like Eastern stores!
A new scheme had been invented. On top of a high hill called Telegraph
Hill, overlooking the Golden Gate, a signal had been installed. It
consisted of a tall post equipped with wooden paddles, like arms, that
flourished in a system of wigwags. The positions of the arms signaled
"brig," "bark," "side-wheel steamer," etc. And on "steamer day"--a day
when one of the big mail and passenger steamers was expected in--every
citizen was gazing at Telegraph Hill to see the arms extend
horizontally right and left, wigwagging, at last, "side-wheel steamer."
"The _Panama_! When was the _Panama_ due?"
"On the nineteenth, bub."
But would she come? Supposing she were late. Then those mothers might
be late, too, for Christmas! But she was not late; no, sir; for at
sunset of the _eighteenth_, see, up went the two arms of the signal on
Telegraph Hill, extended horizontally to announce: "Side-wheel steamer
entering the Golden Gate." And presently there came the _Panama_,
surging majestically through the channel, and rounding to before the
city.
That was a long night, intervening before the passengers might land.
Charley and Billy slept scarcely a wink. They were at the wharf bright
and early--but no earlier than an army of other persons almost as
excited as they. The _Panama_ began to unload her passengers; the
usual fleet of skiffs and ship's boats put out, filled, from her side.
Charley and Billy peered expectantly. Supposing, after all, those
mothers had missed the _Panama_ and had not come. But no! That was
they, wasn't it, in the second boat? Yes! Hurrah and hurrah! Forward
bolted Charley; forward bolted Billy; and delivered such a series of
frantic hugs that their mothers simply _had_ to know them, in spite of
tan and clothes.
"Why!" gasped Charley's mother, holding him off a moment, to gain
breath and to make sure. "How well you look! Where's your father? Is
he all right? When do we get to the mine? Are things going well? Oh,
Charley, but I'm glad to see you!"
"Everything's splendid," panted Charley. "But this is the best of all."
And from the behavior of Billy and _his_ mother, Charley rather
imagined that they agreed with him.
So it proved to be a merry Christmas at Gold Hill and the Golden West
mine. And thus the famous year of Forty-nine passed into the busy
prosperous year of Fifty, during which California and the Golden West
mine grew and prospered together.