Arrival of our Party--The Mountaineer--A “prospecting”
Expedition--The Start--California Skies in November--A
Drenching--Go-ahead Higgins--“Camp Beautiful”--John the
Irishman--The Indian’s Grave--A “rock” Speech--The Return--Herd of
Antelope--Johnson’s Rancho--Acorn Gathering--Indian Squaws--Novel
Costume--The Rancheria--Pule-u-le--A Bear Fight.
On the 7th of November our party arrived,--their horses, of which they
brought five, jaded with the travel in the mountains; and it was not
until the 16th that we were able to make a start. Being, of course,
entirely ignorant of the best locality to which to proceed, and being
all young, strong, and enthusiastic, we determined to strike out a new
path, and go on an exploring expedition in the mountains, in the hope
that fortune would throw in our way the biggest of all lumps, and that
we might possibly find the fountain head of El Dorado, where, gushing in
a rich and golden lava from the heart of the great Sierra, a stream of
molten gold should appear before our enraptured eyes.
Fortune, or rather misfortune, favoured us in this project. We were
visited one evening in camp by a man, who informed us that he had
recently been on a “prospecting” expedition with a party of three
others, and that after nearly reaching, as he thought, the fountain head
of gold, the party was attacked by Indians, and all, with the exception
of himself, killed. The “prospect,” he told us, was most favourable, and
learning from him the direction of the mountains in which he had been,
with two pack-horses lightly laden with hard bread and dried beef, six
of us started on the evening of November 16th on our Quixotic
expedition, leaving one with the remainder of our provisions and the
tent at the Embarcadero.
We crossed the Rio de los Americanos about a mile above Sutter’s Fort,
and, encamping upon its opposite bank, started on the morning of the
17th. The sky promised a heavy rain storm; nothing daunted, however, we
pushed on in the direction of the Bear River settlements, and about noon
the sky’s predictions were most fully realized. The rain fell in big
drops, and soon broke upon us in torrents. The wind blew a hurricane,
and we were in the apparent centre of an open prairie, with a row of
sheltering trees about four miles distant, mockingly beckoning us to
seek protection beneath their thick and wide-spreading branches.
We pushed on, and succeeded in reaching the trees, which proved to be
evergreen oaks, in a little more than an hour, wet to the skin. The
little clothing we had brought with us, and packed upon the horses’
backs, was also wet, and our bread reduced to the consistency of paste.
We were dispirited, but managed to build a fire beneath the trees, and
remained there throughout the day. The rain ceased at nightfall, and
making a sorry supper from our wet bread and slimy meat, we stretched
ourselves on the ground, wrapped in our blankets, heartily cursing our
folly in travelling out of the beaten track with the hopes of rendering
ourselves rich and our names immortal. But tired men will sleep even in
wet blankets and on muddy ground, and we were half compensated in the
morning for our previous day’s adventures and misfortunes by as bright a
sunshine and clear a sky as ever broke upon a prairie. Gathering up our
provisions, we made a start, for the purpose of reaching, before night
set in, a ravine, where we were, according to our directions, to leave
the main road and strike for the mountains.
About dusk we reached a dry “arroyo,” which we supposed to be the one
indicated on the rough draft of the road we were to travel, given us by
the mountaineer who had first impressed our minds with the idea of this
expedition. We unpacked, built a roaring fire in the centre of the
_arroyo_, and placing our wet bread and beef in its immediate vicinity,
had them soon in a fair way of drying. We lay down again at night, with
a bright starlit sky resting peacefully over us, and hoped for an
invigorating rest; but California skies in November are not to be
trusted, and so we found to our sorrow, for about twelve o’clock we were
all turned out by a tremendous shower of rain. We gathered around the
expiring fire, and our sorrows for our bodily sufferings were all soon
absorbed in the thought that there lay our poor bread and meat, our sole
dependence for support, once half dried and now suffering a second
soaking. There being no indications of a cessation of the rain, we
stretched over our provisions a small tent we had brought with us, and
for not having previously pitched which we cursed ourselves heartily,
and spent the remainder of the night in sleeplessness and wet.
The tantalizing morning again broke fair, and it was decided to remain
where we were throughout the day, and make another attempt at drying our
provisions, and at the same time fully decide what to do. Two of the
party (myself included) wished either to turn back and try some other
part of the “diggins,” or proceed on the main road which we had been
travelling, and near which we were then encamped, directly to the Yuba
River, at a distance, as we supposed, of about thirty miles. But the
go-ahead party was too powerful for us, and, headed by Higgins, a man of
the most indomitable perseverance, pictured to us the glorious results
we were to achieve. We were to go where the track of the white man was
yet unseen, and find in the mountain’s stony heart a home for the
winter, with untold riches lying beneath our feet. We yielded, and the
next morning at daylight started again, making a straight course for the
mountains, lying in a northeasterly direction, and apparently about
twenty-five miles distant. And here we were, started on an unknown
track, to go among hostile savages, who we knew had already killed our
countrymen, our provisions for six consisting of about twenty-five
pounds of wet and already moulded hard bread and some miserable jerked
beef.
We travelled up the “arroyo” till nearly sunset, when we struck the
foot-hills of the mountains. We had seen no foot-tracks, except an
occasional naked one of an Indian, and I became fully satisfied that we
had taken the wrong “arroyo” as our diverging point. The ground over
which we had travelled that day was a miserable stony soil, with here
and there a scrubby oak tree growing. As we struck the foot of the
mountains the scene was changed. Rich, verdant, and fertile-looking
valleys opened out before us, and tall oaks threw a luxuriant,
lengthened evening shadow upon the gentle slope of their ascent. We
entered the midst of these valleys, and, after proceeding nearly a mile,
came to the prettiest camping spot I ever saw. An expansion of the
valley formed a circular plain of about a mile in diameter, surrounded
on all sides, excepting at its one narrow entrance, with green,
tree-covered, and lofty hills. A tall growth of grass and wild oats,
interspersed with beautiful blue and yellow autumnal flowers, covered
the plain, and meandering through it, with a thousand windings, was a
silvery stream, clear as crystal, from which we and our thirsty horses
drank our fill, and relished the draught, I believe, better than the
gods ever did their nectar. It was a beautiful scene. The sun was just
sinking behind the hills on the western side, and threw a golden stream
of light on the opposite slope. Birds of gaudy plumage were carolling
their thousand varied notes on the tree branches, and I thought if gold
and its allurements could be banished from my thoughts, I could come
here and live in this little earthly paradise happily for ever.
We selected a gentle slope, beneath a huge rock, near the western
hill-side, for our camping ground, and, again building a fire, were
about to content ourselves with a supper of mouldy bread, when a jolly
son of the Emerald Isle who was one of our party, in diving among the
little bags of which our packs consisted, found one of burnt and ground
coffee, which we did not know we possessed, and another of sugar, both
to be sure a little wet, but nevertheless welcome. Talk of the delights
of sipping the decoction of the “brown berry” after a hearty dinner at
“Delmonico’s!” That dish of hot coffee, drunk out of my quart tin pot,
in which also I had boiled it, was a more luxurious beverage to me than
the dew-drops in a new-blown rose could be to a fairy. I slept
delightfully under its influence till midnight, when I was called to
stand my turn of guard duty, which, as we were in an Indian region, all
knew to be necessary; and I, who so often with my sword belted around
me, had commanded guard as their officer, watched post with my old rifle
for nearly two hours.
The day broke as clear and beautiful upon our enchanting valley as the
previous one had closed. After partaking of another pot of hot coffee
and some mouldy bread, I took a stroll across the little stream, with my
rifle for my companion, while the others, more enthusiastic, started in
search of gold. I crossed the plain, and found, at the foot of the hill
on the other side, a deserted Indian hut, built of bushes and mud. The
fire was still burning on the mud hearth, a few gourds filled with
water were lying at the entrance, and an ugly dog was growling near it.
Within a few feet of the hut was a little circular mound enclosed with a
brush paling. It was an Indian’s grave, and placed in its centre, as a
tombstone, was a long stick stained with a red colouring, which also
covered the surface of the mound. Some proud chieftain probably rested
here, and as the hut bore evident marks of having been very recently
deserted, his descendants had without doubt left his bones to moulder
there alone, and fled at the sight of the white man.
Leaving this spot, I returned to camp, and, as the gold-hunters had not
yet come back, still continued to stroll around it. The top of the rock
beneath which we had slept was covered with deep and regularly made
holes, like those found in the rocks where rapids of rivers have fallen
for centuries and worn them out. It was long before I could account for
the existence of these, but finally imagined, what I afterwards found to
be the fact, that they were made by the continual pounding of the
Indians in mashing their acorns. In the vicinity I observed several
groves of a species of white oak (_Quercus longiglanda_), some of them
eight feet in diameter, and at least eighty feet high. This tree is
remarkable for the length of its acorns, several that I picked up
measuring two inches.
The gold-hunters finally returned, and with elongated countenances
reported that, though they had diligently searched every little ravine
around our camp, the nearest they could come to gold-finding was some
beautiful specimens of mica, which John the Irishman brought in with
him, insisting that it was “pure goold.” We camped again in the valley
that night, and the next morning held another council as to what we
should do and whither we should go. Higgins, as usual, was for going
ahead; I was for backing out; and the little party formed itself into
two factions, Higgins at the head of one, and I of the other. Mounting
the rock, I made not exactly a “stump,” but a “rock” speech, in which,
to my own satisfaction, and, as it proved, to that of the majority of
the party, I explained the madness of the idea of starting into the
mountains on foot, without a guide, and with but about two or three
days’ provisions remaining. We had seen but few deer so far, and knew
not whether there were any in the mountains. I recommended that we
should immediately pack up, and strike what we thought to be the best
course for Johnson’s Rancho, on Bear River, about fifteen miles from
Yuba. I succeeded, and we packed up and retraced our steps, with
somewhat heavy hearts, down the little valley. We left our blessing on
the lovely spot, named our camping ground “Camp Beautiful,” and
proceeded on our way, following the base of the mountains. There was no
road, and we knew not whither we were going, only that we were in the
right direction. The country outside of the mountains was miserably poor
and barren, the soil being covered with a rocky flint. It is entirely
destitute of timber, excepting on the banks of the “arroyos,” which were
then dry, and are all skirted with magnificent evergreen oaks. We were
travelling in a northwesterly direction, and hoped to reach Bear River
at night; coming, however, to a little stream, we camped upon its
margin, and the next day started again, refreshed by a good night’s
sleep, but dispirited from our ignorance of where we were, or whither we
were going, besides being foot-sore from our travel over the flinty
pebbles. About noon we saw, at a distance of some three or four miles,
an immense flock of what we took to be sheep. Elated at the prospect of
being near a rancho, we speedily unpacked a horse, and using the pack
lashing for a bridle, I mounted him, and galloped at full speed in the
direction of the flock, hoping to find the rancho to which they
belonged near them. I approached to within three hundred yards of them
before I discovered the mistake under which I had laboured, when the
whole herd went bounding away affrighted. What I had taken for a flock
of sheep was a herd of antelopes, containing, I should suppose, nearly a
thousand, and for a supper of one of which I would have freely given a
month’s anticipated labour in the gold mines. I returned to the party,
and dampened their already disheartened spirits by my report.
We travelled on slowly, for we were wearied and heartsick, and at
about four o’clock in the afternoon, having traversed a very circuitous
route, the horses were unpacked and the small quantity of remaining
provisions put in our pockets. Higgins, the owner of one of the horses,
mounted his, and John the Irishman, who was suffering with a rheumatic
complaint, the other. I was so weary and weak that I could scarcely
support myself, and my feet were so covered with blisters, and so
swollen, that every step I took seemed like treading on sharpened
spikes. How I wished myself back in “Camp Beautiful,”--in
Texas--anywhere but where I was. I was lagging behind the party, when
John, turning round, saw me, and stopped his horse; as I came up to him
he dismounted and forced me to take his place. God bless thee! generous
Irishman. Beneath a rough exterior he had a heart which beat with
feelings and emotions to which many a proud bosom is a stranger. How I
loaded him with thanks, and only received his unsophisticated reply,
that I “was tireder than he was.” About dark we struck a stream of
water, and all but Higgins were ready and glad to camp and eat the last
remains of the mouldy bread and beef. The persevering energy of Higgins
had not in the least degree failed him, and without getting off his
horse, he bade us “good-bye,” and assured us that he would never return
till he had found Johnson’s Rancho. He left us: we built up a good fire,
and about three hours afterward, while speculating on his return, he
came dashing into camp with about a dozen pounds of fresh beef, some
bread, and a bottle of fine old brandy. We welcomed him as we would an
angel visitant. My distaste for his desperation changed into an
admiration for his energy. It seems he had found a road about forty
yards from our camp, and a ride of five miles had brought him to
Johnson’s Rancho. We made a good supper of beef and bread, and revived
our fainting spirits with the brandy, and in the fulness of our hearts
unanimously voted Higgins excused from guard duty for that night. Next
morning, light-hearted and happy, we started for the rancho, and
crossing Bear River, on which it is situated, reached there about ten
o’clock. Johnson is an American, who many years since obtained a large
grant of fertile land on Bear River, and has been living here for years
within fifteen miles of a stream whose banks and bed were filled with
incalculable riches.
We procured some provisions here, and started for the Yuba, and without
any mishaps reached the camping ground, about three miles from the
river, early in the afternoon. We camped, and Higgins and myself started
on a hunting expedition, for the purpose of getting some game for
supper. We made our way into the hills, and were travelling slowly,
trailing our rifles, when we stopped suddenly, dumbfounded, before two
of the most curious and uncouth-looking objects that ever crossed my
sight. They were two Indian women, engaged in gathering acorns. They
were entirely naked, with the exception of a _coyote_ skin extending
from the waists to the knees. Their heads were shaved, and the tops of
them covered with a black tarry paint, and a huge pair of military
whiskers were daubed on their cheeks with the same article. They had
with them two conical-shaped wicker baskets, in which they were placing
the acorns, which were scattered ankle deep around them. Higgins, with
more gallantry than myself, essayed a conversation with them, but made a
signal failure, as after listening to a few sentences in Spanish and
English, they seized their acorn baskets and ran. The glimpse we had
taken of these mountain beauties, and our failure to enter into any
conversation with them, determined us to pay a visit to their
headquarters, which we knew were near by. Watching their footsteps in
their rapid flight, we saw them, after descending a hill, turn up a
ravine, and disappear. We followed in the direction which they had
taken, and soon reached the Indian _rancheria_. It was located on both
sides of a deep ravine, across which was thrown a large log as a bridge,
and consisted of about twenty circular wigwams, built of brush,
plastered with mud, and capable of containing three or four persons. As
we entered, we observed our flying beauties, seated on the ground,
pounding acorns on a large rock indented with holes similar to those
which so puzzled me at “Camp Beautiful.” We were suddenly surrounded
upon our entrance by thirty or forty male Indians, entirely naked, who
had their bows and quivers slung over their shoulders, and who stared
most suspiciously at us and our rifles. Finding one of them who spoke
Spanish, I entered into a conversation with him--told him we had only
come to pay a visit to the _rancheria_, and, as a token of peace
offering, gave him about two pounds of musty bread and some tobacco
which I happened to have in my game-bag. This pleased him highly, and
from that moment till we left, _Pule-u-le_, as he informed me his name
was, appeared my most intimate and sworn friend. I apologized to him for
the unfortunate fright which we had caused a portion of his household,
and assured him that no harm was intended, as I entertained the
greatest respect for the ladies of his tribe, whom I considered far
superior in point of ornament, taste, and natural beauty to those of any
other race of Indians in the country. Pule-u-le exhibited to me the
interior of several of the wigwams, which were nicely thatched with
sprigs of pine and cypress, while a matting of the same material covered
the bottom. During our presence our two female attractions had retired
into one of the wigwams, into which Pule-u-le piloted us, where I found
some four or five squaws similarly bepitched and clothed, and who
appeared exceedingly frightened at our entrance. But Pule-u-le explained
that we were friends, and mentioned the high estimation in which I held
them, which so pleased them that one of the runaways left the wigwam and
soon brought me in a large piece of bread made of acorns, which to my
taste was of a much more excellent flavour than musty hard bread.
Pule-u-le showed us the bows and arrows, and never have I seen more
beautiful specimens of workmanship. The bows were some three feet long,
but very elastic and some of them beautifully carved, and strung with
the intestines of birds. The arrows were about eighteen inches in
length, accurately feathered, and headed with a perfectly clear and
transparent green crystal, of a kind which I had never before seen,
notched on the sides, and sharp as a needle at the point. The arrows, of
which each Indian had at least twenty, were carried in a quiver made of
_coyote_ skin.
I asked Pule-u-le if he had ever known of the existence of gold prior to
the entrance of white men into the mines. His reply was that, where he
was born, about forty miles higher up the river, he had, when a boy,
picked it from the rocks in large pieces, and amused himself by
throwing them into the river as he would pebbles. A portion of the
tribe go daily to the Yuba River, and wash out a sufficient amount of
gold to purchase a few pounds of flour, or some sweetmeats, and return
to the _rancheria_ at night to share it with their neighbours; who in
their turn go the next day, while the others are chasing hare and deer
over the hills. There were no signs around them of the slightest attempt
to cultivate the soil. Their only furniture consisted of woven baskets
and earthen jars, and Pule-u-le told me that in the spring he thought
they should all leave and go over the “big mountain,” to get from the
sight of the white man.
Highly pleased with our visit, and receiving a very earnest invitation
to “call again,” we left the _rancheria_ and proceeded towards the camp.
About half way from the _rancheria_ a loud braying, followed by a fierce
growl, attracted our attention, and in a few moments a frightened mule,
closely pursued by an enormous grizzly bear, descended the hill-side
within forty yards of where we stood leaning on our rifles. As the bear
reached the road, Higgins, with his usual quickness and intrepidity,
fired, and an unearthly yell from the now infuriated animal told with
what effect. The mule in the interval had crossed the road, and was now
scampering away over the plains, and Bruin, finding himself robbed of
his prey, turned upon us. I levelled my rifle and gave him the contents
with hearty good will, but the wounds he had received only served to
exasperate the monster, who now made towards us with rapid strides.
Deeming prudence the better part of valour, we ran with all convenient
speed in the direction of the camp, within a hundred yards of which my
foot became entangled in the underbrush, and I fell headlong upon the
earth. In another instant I should have fallen a victim to old Bruin’s
rage, but a well-directed ball from my companion’s rifle entered his
brain and arrested his career. The whole party now came to our
assistance and soon despatched Mr. Grizzly. Dragging him to camp, we
made a hearty supper from his fat ribs, and, as I had probably been the
more frightened of the two, I claimed as an indemnity his skin, which
protected me afterward from the damp ground many a cold night. He was a
monstrous fellow, measuring nearly four feet in height, and six in
length, and a stroke from his huge paw would, had he caught us, have
entirely dissipated the golden dreams of Higgins and myself.