A NEW DEPARTURE.
Glad to escape from such a scene of riot and violence, I walked rapidly
along the narrow street, without any definite idea of where I was going.
I soon passed the low and squalid looking rows of _adobe_ buildings,
which compose the greater part of the famous "Cuidad de Santa Fe," and
came out upon the open plain beyond.
My attention was attracted by a small group of wagons parked upon the
plain a short distance off, and I walked towards them, thinking perhaps,
to fall in with some of my own countrymen, of a different class from the
brutal roughs I had lately met. The wagons were but four in number, and
the party to which they belonged comprised only twelve or fifteen
persons. They were mostly Americans, and from their dress and manner I
took them to be a party of miners. All were stout, hardy looking men,
with an air that bespoke familiarity with hardships and adventure. They
had just struck camp, and were evidently preparing for departure. One,
who seemed to act as their leader, was directing operations, and
apparently exercised a degree of authority unusual among men of this
class. He was a stout, broad-shouldered man, with a good natured
expression of countenance, and from his voice and features, easily
distinguishable as an Englishman. The others addressed him as "Harding,"
or "Ned." One or two giving him the familiar appellation of "Hard Pan,"
which seemed a sort of _sobriquet_ by which he was known. There was
something in his appearance which inspired me with the belief that in
him I might find a friend; and impelled by this feeling I approached
him, and addressed him as "Mr." Harding, explained that I was a stranger
and destitute, in what was to me a strange land, and implored him to
give me employment of some kind with his party, so that I might in time
be enabled to return to my home in the distant East.
"Where do ye come from, lad?" said he, looking at me with some interest,
and noticing the ineffaceable marks upon my face--my legacy from the
Camanches, and which I am destined to carry to my grave.
In as few words as possible I told him my story, interrupted by many
exclamations of wonder and sympathy from my simple-minded listener. As I
concluded he slapped me on the back, and declared that I should join his
party, and should never want for a bite or sup while Ned Harding was to
the fore. By this time the other men of the party had gathered around,
and I was compelled to repeat my tale, which excited both pity and
interest in the breasts of the kind-hearted miners, who declared that
the "cussed Kimanch ought to be wiped out." "Aye, every mother's son of
them," added Ned, "for playing such tricks upon travelers, the
bloody-minded heathen."
It was soon agreed upon that I should accompany the party, who were on
their way to the old Spanish mine of San Ildefonso, formerly noted as
one of the richest in the province of New Mexico, but for many years
deserted by the Mexicans from terror of the savage Apache and Navajo.
The men composing the party of which I had now become a member, were not
to be deterred in their search for a golden harvest by any fears of such
a nature, and had determined to visit the old mine and "prospect" in its
vicinity, with the hope of finding a paying lead. They had with them all
the necessary utensils for their purpose, were well-armed, and with an
abundant stock of provision, and seemed one and all to be confident of
success in their enterprise.
I will spare the reader unnecessary details, and merely state that we
started within an hour on our journey, and after a wearisome and
uninteresting trip of eighteen days, reached the scene of our future
operations, and which was destined to be my abiding place for nearly two
years. A suitable spot was selected, convenient to both wood and water;
a few rude huts were erected, and the town of "Harding" sprang into
being.
After getting fairly settled, and resting somewhat from the fatigue
incident to our journey and our labors in preparing our camp, we
divided in parties of three and four, and went to "prospecting" in
various directions for the precious metal, which was the object of our
expedition. In this we were moderately successful and we soon had our
mining operations in full blast. I always worked in company with "Ned,"
as I had learned to call him, and although he favored me to a degree,
assigning to me all the lighter portions of the work, I soon found that
it was the most severe labor I had ever undertaken, although I had been
inured to toil and hardship of almost every kind daring my long
residence with the Camanches.
The old mine was situated at the base of a precipitous cliff of quartz
rock. A number of rude shafts pierced the mountain side. Some had
penetrated to a considerable depth; others more shallow, showing that
the _lead_ had proved unprofitable, and been speedily abandoned.
On the banks of a little stream which wound around the base of the
cliff, stood the old smelting house and ruined ranches of the Mexican
miners. Most of them were roofless and crumbling to decay. The ground
about them was shaggy and choked up. There were briers, mezcal plants,
and many varieties of cactus; all luxuriant, hirsute, and thorny. These
we speedily cleared away, and selecting one of the largest of the old
smelting houses, we soon put in order for work. Besides our "quartz"
mining in the old shafts and in new ones which we opened we also
engaged in "gulch" and "surface" mining in the vicinity.
As some account of the different modes employed to get at the precious
metals, with which the rocks and soils of the far western states are so
richly stored, may not be uninteresting to the reader, I will briefly
give it.
Mining for gold alone is divided into two general classes: that which
seeks the metal from the solid rock or quartz, and that which finds it
in sand, gravel, or soil. The former process is the universal and
familiar one of all rock mining, following the rich veins into the
bowels of the earth with pick and powder, crushing the rock and
separating the infinitesimal atoms of metal from the dusty, powdered
mass.
The theory of the geologists is, that this is the original form or
deposit of the precious metals; that the gold found in gravel, sand, or
soil, lying as it does almost universally in the beds of rivers, or
under the caves of the mountains, has been washed or ground out of the
hard hills by the action of the elements through long years. Washing
with water is the universal means of getting at these deposits of the
gold. But the scale on which this work is done, and the
instrumentalities of application vary from the simple hand-pan, pick,
and shovel of the original miner, operating along the banks of a little
stream, to grand combination enterprises for changing the entire course
of a river, running shafts down hundreds of feet to get into the beds
of long ago streams, and bringing water through ditches and flumes, and
great pipes for ten or twenty miles, and withall to wash down a hillside
of golden gravel, and extract its precious particles. The simple
individual pan-washers are the first in the field, but it soon ceases to
be profitable to this class of operators, and they soon move on in
search of richer "diggings." The other means are employed on greater or
less scales of magnitude, by combinations of men and capital. All the
forms of gold-washing run into each other, indeed; and companies,
sometimes consisting of only two or three persons, with capitals of a
few hundred dollars merely, buy a sluice claim, or seize a deserted bed,
and with shovel and pick, and a small stream of water, run the sands
over and over through the sluiceways, and at the end of the day, or
week, or month, gather up the deposits of gold in the bottoms and at the
ends of their sluices. From this, operations ascend to a magnitude
involving hundreds of thousands, and employing hundreds of men as
partners or day laborers for the managers. Sometimes, too, the
enterprise is divided, and companies are organized that furnish the
water alone, and sell it out to the miners or washers, according to
their wants.
The raising of auriferous sands and gravel from the deeply covered beds
of old streams, by running down shafts and tunnels into and through such
beds, is called "deep diggings," or "bed rock diggings;" and in their
pursuit, the bottoms of ancient rivers will be followed through the
country for mile after mile, and many feet below the present surface of
the earth. The miners in this fashion go down until they reach the bed
rock along which the water originally ran, and here they find the
richest deposits.
The other sort of heavy gold washing, employing powerful streams of
water to tear down and wash out the soil of hillsides that cover or hold
golden deposits, is known as "hydraulic mining." This is the most unique
and extensive process, involving the largest capital and risk. The water
is brought from mountain lakes and rivers, through ditches and flumes,
sometimes supported by trestle work, fifty or one hundred feet high, to
near the scene of operations. Then it is let from the flumes into large
and stout iron pipes, which grow gradually smaller and smaller. Out of
these it is passed into hose, like that of a fire engine; and through
this it is discharged with terrific force into the bank or bed of earth,
which is speedily torn down and washed with resistless separating power
into narrow beds or sluices in the lower valleys; and as it goes along
these, the more solid gold particles deposit themselves in the rifts or
slight barriers placed for that purpose across its path.
Usually, in large operations of this kind, the main stream of water is
divided in the final discharging hose into two or more streams, which
spout out into the hillside as if from so many fire engines, but with
immensely more force. One of these streams would instantly kill man or
animal that should get before it; and fatal accidents frequently happen
from this source. Sometimes a water company taps lakes fifteen or twenty
miles off in the mountains, and turns whole rivers into its ditches.
There are in some localities supposed rich gold banks and beds, which
only require water for development, but to get which would require an
outlay for ditches of many hundred thousand dollars. It is probable that
it would be richly paying investment, however, and the principal reason
why it is not undertaken is the lack of certain laws, regulating mining
claims, and the conflicts and doubts that are occasioned by the neglect
of the government to establish the terms of ownership in mining lands.
As it is now, possession is the principal title to mining properties;
prospectors and miners have established a few general rules for
determining the rights of each other, and they can occupy the properties
that they discover or purchase to a certain limited extent. No one
person is permitted to take up more than a certain amount in feet or
acres. The government so far has done nothing with these mineral lands,
whose real ownership is still in itself, and derives no revenue from
them.
Whenever difficulties arise and are brought before the courts, the
regulations of the miners of the district where the properties are
located has generally been sustained. But the apprehension that the
government will yet assume its rights and establish different rules for
the possession and use of these lands, and the uncertainty and
controversies growing out of the present loose ways of making and
holding claims, are a serious obstacle to large enterprises, and a
hindrance to the best sort of mining progress and prosperity throughout
all the western mining country. The profits obtained in some cases of
extensive deep diggings and hydraulic mining are very great. A thousand
dollars a day is often washed out by a company holding rich soil and
employing a large force; and a run of several weeks, averaging from
fifty to one hundred dollars a day for each man employed is frequently
recorded. A single "cleaning up" after a few weeks' washing in a rich
place has produced fifty thousand dollars in gold dust and nuggets; and
in some cases, even one hundred thousand dollars has been reported.
These are the extreme cases of good fortune, however; other enterprises
are run at a loss, or with varying result; but the gold washing, as a
general thing pay good wages, and a fair return to the capital invested.
It is hardly possible to imagine, and wholly impossible to describe the
ruin and wreck to be seen everywhere in the path of the larger gold
washing operations. Streams naturally pure as crystal, become changed to
a thick, yellow mud, from this cause, early in their passage out from
the hills. Many of them are turned out of their original channels,
either directly for mining purposes, or in consequence of the great
masses of soil and gravel that come down from the gold washings above.
Thousands of acres of fine lands along their banks are ruined forever,
by deposits of this character. The mining interest respects no rights
but its own. A farmer may have his whole estate changed to a barren
waste, by a flood of sand and gravel from some hydraulic mining up the
stream. If a fine orchard or garden stands in the way of the working of
a rich gulch or bank, orchard and garden are doomed. They are torn down,
dug out, washed to pieces, and then washed over side hills. Where the
process of hydraulic mining has been, or is being carried on, the
country presents an appearance of devastation and ruin that is scarcely
imaginable; forming a frightful blot upon the face of nature.
For this sort of mining on a large scale, we had no facilities, so we
were compelled to work in a very small way, and be satisfied with
correspondingly small results. News of our successful establishment of
the old mine, in some way reached Santa Fe, and, rushing to the
conclusion that we had found a new Eldorado, all the floating population
of that decaying city swooped down upon us, and we soon found quite a
populous settlement growing up around us.
A very decided change in our situation resulted from this, and some
rather exciting events transpired, but these I will leave for another
chapter. Soon after the accessions to our community had become so
numerous, my friend and partner, Ned Harding, fell ill. This put a
sudden stop to our mining operations, and for several weeks I was
compelled to remain by the side of his rude couch, attending to his
wants, and doing all that I could to facilitate his recovery.
Among the new arrivals at our "diggings" was a Mexican, who had followed
the profession of a _medico_ in former times, but who was now an
inveterate gold hunter; one of the sort who are perpetually on the move
from place to place, seeking placers of fabulous richness, but never
working any claim long enough to fairly develop it. Perhaps they have no
sooner commenced operations in one place, when a rumor comes of rich
finds at some far distant point, and off they go, to repeat the same
performance indefinitely.
When Ned was first taken sick, I thought of this Mexican doctor, and at
once went in search of him. With some difficulty I persuaded him to get
out of the hole in which he was working, and go to see my friend. We had
a few simple medicines among our supplies, and from some of these the
ex-doctor prepared a potion for Ned, which he declared would be "_mucho
bueno_," and that the patient would be all right in "_tres dias_," at
the most. The result, however, failed so justify his expectations, for
Ned became no better, although there was no marked change for the worse.
It went on in this way for several weeks; I continuing to give the
medicines prescribed by the Mexican physician, but without any apparent
result.
Ned seemed to be in a kind of low fever, and to constantly lose
strength. The stomach seemed to entirely refuse its office, and it was
almost impossible to give him any food, however light, that he could
keep down much longer than while eating it. He complained greatly of
pain in the back and head, and a constant feeling of nausea at the
stomach, or, as he expressed it, "I tell ye, lad, theare's something
thear as wants to come up and can't." Finally, seeing no signs of
improvement from the treatment pursued by our Mexican friend, and
becoming greatly alarmed at Ned's condition, I was sitting one day, in
great despondency, upon a stump in front of our hut, when it suddenly
flashed upon my mind that I had never tried the Indian remedy, in the
preparation and administration of which I had spent so great a part of
my life. For some reason it had never occurred to me to use it, and
indeed, I did not know whether it was possible to procure the necessary
ingredients, in my present location, although I judged it probable that
I might do so. At all events, I determined to make the attempt, and
accordingly I went "prospecting" for the required herbs, roots, etc.,
that very day. After two days spent in this way, I succeeded in
procuring all the ingredients which I had so many times compounded under
Wakometkla's direction, and lost no time in preparing the medicine. I
then commenced giving it to my patient in small doses, at intervals of
four or five hours, through the day, and was soon gratified to find an
almost immediate improvement in his condition.
The second day after commencing this treatment, the fever left him; he
broke out into a profuse perspiration, and fell into a deep sleep, which
lasted for many hours. When he awoke he complained of feeling very
hungry; and when I prepared some food he ate quite heartily, and
retained it on his stomach without difficulty. Encouraged by these
favorable indications, I continued the medicine, and with surprising
results. His recovery was so rapid that it seemed almost miraculous. In
eight days he declared himself entirely well, and almost overwhelmed me
with expressions of gratitude, declaring that I had saved his life. I
told him that his thanks were due not to me, but to Wakometkla, the
strange old medicine-man of the Camanches, or, more properly, to that
higher Power, which had enabled this uneducated savage to discover and
prepare from the simple growths of the forest and mountain, so wonderful
a remedy for "all the ills that flesh is heir to." Ned was so universal
a favorite among the miners, that his illness had excited great sympathy
and commiseration. As he went about, trumpeting forth my praise as a
medical practitioner, I soon found that I had gained considerable
notoriety. The miners dubbed me "Doctor," and called for my services in
all cases requiring medical assistance. With Wakometkla's remedy alone
as my entire pharmacopoeia, I battled with many forms of disease
incident to our rough and exposed life, and met with almost unvarying
success. In fact, in that region I expect I shall never be known by any
other title than "Doctor," although I do not claim or fancy such a
designation. It would be well for the people if the old school mineral
physicians, who are rapidly ruining the health of the entire nation by
the free use of deleterious and poisonous drugs, would take a leaf from
the book of nature, and re-study their profession in the same school
from which I graduated--the school of nature.