EARLY MINING.
During the spring of ’60, two mining companies were at war about their
locations, and one company threatened the other with an injunction.
There had been considerable talk among members of the threatened company
about this injunction being put on their claim. Two green Irishmen of
the company, who heard this, and who were at work on the claim,
concluded that they would keep a bright lookout for this injunction.
They had no idea what it was like, but if anything of the kind was going
to be put upon their claim they’d see about it. Every day they kept a
bright eye open for the injunction, but saw nothing stuck up anywhere
about their claim that looked like one.
About this time, however, it so happened that a party of surveyors were
engaged in running out a road in that neighborhood. The surveyors
arrived at the disputed claim just at noon, and, leaving their
theodolite standing on the line they were running, went into town to get
dinner. Pat and Mike were also away at dinner, but got back to their
claim before the party of surveyors returned. It so chanced that the
theodolite had been left standing on the bank immediately above the cut
in which the two sons of Erin had been at work. The first thing that
caught the eye of Pat and Mike, was the large and costly instrument,
standing on the bank, as though on guard over the cut in which they had
been working.
“By the powers ’o war, Pat!” cries Mike, “what divilish thing is that,
standing there on its three legs?”
“It looks like some quare kind of patent invintion,” said Pat, “wid all
of its brass muzzles and stop-cocks. What would it be, anyhow?”
“Well, now,” said Mike, “I wondther if it isn’t the thaving injunction
thim rascally divils over beyant have been swearin’ they’d put upon the
claim?”
“By the sivin churches, ye’ve said it!” yelled Pat. “Let’s afther it!”
[Illustration: BUSTIN’ THE INJUNCTION.]
With this, one seized a pick, the other a crowbar, and rushing upon the
theodolite they smashed it into a hundred pieces, crying—“This for all
of yer infernal injunctions!” Pat flung one leg of the instrument as far
as he could send it, yelling: “To the divil wid all injunctions!” Mike
sent another whirling down the hill, shouting: “Bring on yer
injunctions, we’re the lads that can knock the stuffin’ out of the best
and the biggest of thim!” Just as the pair had succeeded in “bustin’ up
the injunction” the party of surveyors returned. The interview between
them and the two Irishmen was short, but, as Pat afterwards
acknowledged, it was “mighty improvin.”
The newcomers who swarmed across the Sierras spread along the Comstock
range for miles, pitching their tents and establishing their camps
wherever wood and water were to be found. Having thus established their
headquarters they scouted out on prospecting expeditions in all
directions among the hills. In places on the ravines and in the flats,
where good water and some grass were to be found, there were to be seen
considerable villages of tents and brush shanties.
Of evenings, when the prospectors returned from the hills, there was a
big time among them, as they exhibited specimens of ore from the ledges
they had discovered and compared notes. All gathered about and opinions
were passed in regard to the value of the ores brought in.
The next business was to test the ores for the precious metals. In
gold-bearing quartz, small specks of gold were often to be seen with the
naked eye or aided by a small magnifying glass, such as every prospector
carried in his vest pocket for use in the examination of ores. If gold
could be seen at all, either with the naked eye or the glass, it was
considered a good sign. In order to further test the specimen, it was
then either beaten to a powder in a mortar or was ground as fine as
flour on a large flat stone, using a smaller stone for a muller. This
pulverized ore was then placed in a “horn,” a little canoe-shaped vessel
made of the split horn of an ox, when it was carefully washed out, much
as auriferous gravel is washed in a pan. The gold, in case the ore
experimented upon contained that metal, was found lying in a yellow
streak in the bottom of the horn; generally small particles of gold
dust, almost as fine as flour.
This was the test for gold, and any miner was able to judge, from the
“prospect” obtained in his horn, whether or not the quartz from which it
came was rich enough to pay for working in a mill.
In testing ores for silver, the miners in the early days used acids. If
a specimen of ore was supposed to contain silver, it was pulverized in
the same way as gold-bearing quartz, then was placed in the horn and the
lighter matter it contained washed out. When that which remained in the
horn appeared to be principally sulphurets and other metalline matter,
the washing ceased. The heavy residuum was then washed from the horn
into a matrass (a flask of annealed glass, with a narrow neck and a
broad bottom). Nitric acid was then poured into the matrass until the
matter to be tested was covered, when the flask was suspended over the
flame of a candle or lamp and boiled until the fumes escaping (which are
for a time red) came off white. The boiling operation was then presumed
to be completed.
When the contents of the matrass had been allowed to cool and settle,
the liquid portion was poured off into a vial of clear, thin glass,
called a test-tube. A few drops of a strong solution of common salt was
now poured into the test-tube. If the ore operated upon contained
silver, the contents of the test-tube would at once assume a milky hue.
This would begin at the top of the liquid in the tube, where the salt
solution first touched the solution of silver in the acid and would be
seen to gradually descend to the bottom of the vial. If there was much
silver in the ore, the milky matter formed was quite thick, and clinging
together descends to the bottom of the tube in the form of little ropes.
Muriatic acid poured into the tube produced the same effect as the
solution of salt and water. The white matter formed was the chloride of
silver.
In case the prospector had any doubt about what he had obtained being
genuine chloride of silver, he held the test-tube in the strong light of
the sun for a few minutes, when the chloride would be seen to assume a
rich purple color—a color which no photographer would ever mistake.
Those who wish to try this experiment may do so anywhere. If no silver
ore is to be had a few filings of a silver coin, or anything containing
silver, may be used. The boiling in nitric acid may be performed in a
small saucer of ordinary table ware and a common vial may be used in
lieu of a test-tube.
The chloride of silver obtained in the bottom of the tube may easily be
reduced to the metallic state. To do this it is dried and placed in a
small hole scooped out in a piece of charcoal, when the flame of a
candle is blown upon it until it is melted, and a bright little button
of pure silver is obtained. Lead ore (galena) treated with nitric acid,
as in testing silver ore, will produce a chloride somewhat resembling
that of silver, but is more granular in appearance, does not turn purple
in the light of the sun, and is dissolved in twenty times its bulk of
water; whereas washing with water does not dissolve the chloride of
silver, no matter how many times the washings are repeated.
If the presence of copper is suspected in the ore tested for silver, a
bit of bright iron wire or the blade of a penknife may be dipped into
the solution obtained from the specimen, either before or after adding
the salt, when, if copper be present, the wire or knife will show a
coating of it in the metallic state.
Chloride ores of silver cannot be tested by the acid method—they being
chloride of silver in advance of the operation. These ores must be
subjected to the test of a fire assay—must be smelted in a crucible.
This being the case, our prospectors were not utterly cast down when
their pet specimens failed to show silver when tested by the acid
process. They at once declared that the silver was in the form of a
chloride, and were not satisfied that they were not millionaires, until
they had carried their specimens to some assay office and had a regular
fire assay made. Then, when the certificate of the assayer came, they
were generally obliged to take a back seat, receiving the imprecations
of the camp. Occasionally, however, a “big assay” was obtained. Then
there was a grand excitement. Every man in the camp wanted the lucky man
to put him down in his notice of location for a claim of 200 feet—the
amount of ground that could be taken up by one man under the revised
laws of the district. In order to get an interest in a claim that
promised to turn out a “big thing,” there was much pulling and hauling,
buzzing and log-rolling, among the miners who knew of the “strike.”
The miners all did their own cooking, but this was no great task, as
when you had mentioned slapjacks, beans, bacon, and coffee, you were at
the bottom of the bill of fare. A few men, however, in every camp,
developed a decided genius in the art culinary and concocted some
wonderful dishes, the raw material at hand considered.
About three-fourths of the prospecting miners who came over from
California, packed their traps on the backs of donkeys, and, driving
these before them, boldly, if not swiftly, scaled the Sierras. These
donkeys became a great nuisance about the several camps. All became
thieves of the most accomplished type. They would steal flour, sugar,
bacon, beans, and everything eatable about the camp. They would even
devour gunny sacks in which bacon had been packed, old woollen shirts
and almost everything else but the picks and shovels. The donkeys would
be seen demurely grazing on the flats and on the hillsides when the
miners left camp in the morning to go out prospecting, but all the time
had one eye upon every movement that was made. Hardly were the miners
out of sight ere the donkeys were in the camp, with heads in the tents
devouring all within reach. When the miners returned the donkeys were
all out picking about on the hillsides, as calmly as though nothing had
happened; but the swearing heard in camp, as the work of the cunning
beasts came to light, would have furnished any ordinary bull-driver a
stock of oaths that he could not exhaust in six months.
One of these donkeys—too confiding—was caught in the act. Many of the
miners used a kind of flour, called “self-rising.” There was mixed with
it when it was ground all of the ingredients used in the manufacture of
yeast powders. All the miner had to do in making bread from this flour
was to add the proper quantity of water and mix it, when it “came up”
beautifully. The donkey in question had struck a sack of this flour and
had eaten all he could hold of it. He then went down to a spring, near
the camp, and drank a quantity of water. When we came home that evening
Mr. Donkey was still at the spring. The self-rising principle in the
flour had done its work. The beast was round as an apple and his legs
stood out like those of a carpenter’s bench. He was very dead. Here was
one of the thieves. Cunning as he had been, he was caught at last, and
with “wool in his teeth.”
A queer genius thus described the donkey, called by everybody in that
region, “The Washoe Canary”:
SOME ACCOUNT OF YE WASHOE CANARY.
Let it be proclaimed at the outset that ye Washoe canary is not at all
a bird: and, though hee hath voice in great volume, lykë unto that of
a _prima donna_, yet is hee no sweet singer in Israel. Hee is none
other than ye ungainly beaste known in other landes as ye jackass. You
may many times observe ye Washoe canary strolling at hys leasure high
up on the side of ye craggy hill and in ye declivous place, basking in
ye picturesque and charging hys soul wyth ye majestic. Hee rolleth
abroad hys poetic eye upon ye beauties of nature; yea, expandeth hys
nostryls and drinketh in sublimity.
Hee looketh about hym upon ye rocks and ye sage-bushes; he beholdeth
ye lizard basking in ye sun, and observeth ye gambols of ye horned
toad. Straightway hys poetic imagination becometh heated, he feeleth
ye spirit upon him; hee becometh puffed up with ye ardent intensity of
hys elevated sensations; he braceth outwardly hys feet and poureth
forth in long-drawn, triumphant gushes hys thunderous notes of
rapture, the meanwhile wielding hys tayle up and down in the most
wanton manner. Hys musick does not approach unto ye ravishing strains
whyche descended through ye charmed mountain of Alfouran, and
overflowed with melody the cell of the hermit Sanballad. It hath, in
some parts, a quaver more of Chinese harmoniousness.
A wild, uneducated species of canary was thought worthy of mention in
ye booke of Job, among the more note-worthy beasts and birds of ye
earth; now, how much more worthy of description must be the cultivated
and highly accomplished warbler whyche is ye subject of this briefe
hystory? We shall presently see that hee will compare favorably with
any fowl or beaste of whyche we have mention in ye goode booke. Of ye
leviathan we read—“Who can come to him with a double bridle?” But, ah!
who dare come to ye Washoe canary wythe a Spanish-bitted double
bridle, two rope halters and a lasso? Again, of ye leviathan: “Lay
thine hand upon hym, remember the battle, do no more.” Verily, I say
of ye Washoe canary—lay thine hand upon hym, remember hys heeles, do
no more.
Of ye behemoth it is said: “He moveth hys tayle lyke a cedar,” but
when ye Washoe canary giveth vent to hys sudden inspiration in an
impromptu vocal effort he moveth hys tayle like unto two cedars and
one pump-handle.
Again, of ye behemoth—“He eateth grass as an ox.” Ye Washoe canary not
only eateth grass, but in ye wild luxuriance of hys voluptuous fancy,
and hys unbounded confidence in hys digestive capacity, rioteth in ye
most reckless manner on sage-brush, prickly-pears, thorns and
greasewood.
Of ye horse: “He smelleth ye battle afar off and saith, ‘ha, ha!’”
Now, not any horse can further smell out a thing presumed to be
hidden—sugar, bacon, and ye lyke—than ye Washoe canary—then, indeed,
hys “yee-haw” far surpasseth the “ha, ha!” of a horse-laugh. What are
ye wings of ye peacock or ye feathers of ye ostriche to ye fierceness
of hys foretop and ye widespread awfulness of hys ears?
Of ye horse: “He swalloweth ye ground in fierceness and rage.” Now, ye
Washoe canary swalloweth woolen shirts, old breeches, gunny sacks and
dilapidated hoop-skirts when in a state of pensive good nature—what,
then, must we suppose hym capable of swallowing, once hys wrath is
enkindled and all ye fearful ferocity of hys nature is aroused; Such
is ye Washoe canary. Be in haste at no time to proclaim a victory over
him.
[Illustration]