Roughing It..........................................................................................................................................................1

Mark Twain ..............................................................................................................................................1

PREFATORY.........................................................................................................................................3

CHAPTER I. ............................................................................................................................................3

CHAPTER II. ...........................................................................................................................................4

CHAPTER III..........................................................................................................................................6

CHAPTER IV..........................................................................................................................................9

CHAPTER V.........................................................................................................................................13

CHAPTER VI........................................................................................................................................15

CHAPTER VII. ......................................................................................................................................17

CHAPTER VIII.....................................................................................................................................21

CHAPTER IX........................................................................................................................................23

CHAPTER X.........................................................................................................................................25

CHAPTER XI........................................................................................................................................28

CHAPTER XII. ......................................................................................................................................32

CHAPTER XIII.....................................................................................................................................37

CHAPTER XIV.....................................................................................................................................38

CHAPTER XV......................................................................................................................................40

CHAPTER XVI.....................................................................................................................................42

CHAPTER XVII. ...................................................................................................................................48

CHAPTER XVIII. ..................................................................................................................................49

CHAPTER XIX.....................................................................................................................................51

CHAPTER XX......................................................................................................................................52

CHAPTER XXI.....................................................................................................................................55

CHAPTER XXII. ...................................................................................................................................59

CHAPTER XXIII. ..................................................................................................................................61

CHAPTER XXIV..................................................................................................................................63

CHAPTER XXV. ...................................................................................................................................66

CHAPTER XXVI..................................................................................................................................69

CHAPTER XXVII. ................................................................................................................................71

CHAPTER XXVIII. ...............................................................................................................................73

CHAPTER XXIX..................................................................................................................................75

CHAPTER XXX. ...................................................................................................................................77

CHAPTER XXXI..................................................................................................................................79

CHAPTER XXXII. ................................................................................................................................83

CHAPTER XXXIII. ...............................................................................................................................85

CHAPTER XXXIV...............................................................................................................................87

CHAPTER XXXV. ................................................................................................................................89

CHAPTER XXXVI...............................................................................................................................90

CHAPTER XXXVII..............................................................................................................................93

CHAPTER XXXVIII. ............................................................................................................................95

CHAPTER XXXIX...............................................................................................................................97

CHAPTER XL. ......................................................................................................................................99

CHAPTER XLI. ...................................................................................................................................103

CHAPTER XLII..................................................................................................................................106

CHAPTER XLIII. ................................................................................................................................109

CHAPTER XLIV. ................................................................................................................................111

CHAPTER XLV..................................................................................................................................114

CHAPTER XLVI. ................................................................................................................................116

CHAPTER XLVII...............................................................................................................................121

CHAPTER XLVIII..............................................................................................................................126

CHAPTER XLIX. ................................................................................................................................129

CHAPTER L. .......................................................................................................................................132

CHAPTER LI......................................................................................................................................136

CHAPTER LII.....................................................................................................................................141

CHAPTER LIII. ...................................................................................................................................144

CHAPTER LIV. ...................................................................................................................................147

CHAPTER LV. ....................................................................................................................................149

CHAPTER LVI. ...................................................................................................................................153

CHAPTER LVII..................................................................................................................................155

CHAPTER LVIII. ................................................................................................................................157

CHAPTER LIX. ...................................................................................................................................161

CHAPTER LX. ....................................................................................................................................163

CHAPTER LXI. ...................................................................................................................................165

CHAPTER LXII..................................................................................................................................167

CHAPTER LXIII. ................................................................................................................................171

CHAPTER LXIV. ................................................................................................................................172

CHAPTER LXV..................................................................................................................................175

CHAPTER LXVI. ................................................................................................................................178

CHAPTER LXVII...............................................................................................................................180

CHAPTER LXVIII..............................................................................................................................184

CHAPTER LXIX. ................................................................................................................................189

CHAPTER LXX..................................................................................................................................191

CHAPTER LXXI. ................................................................................................................................194

CHAPTER LXXII...............................................................................................................................196

CHAPTER LXXIII..............................................................................................................................198

CHAPTER LXXIV. .............................................................................................................................201

CHAPTER LXXV...............................................................................................................................203

CHAPTER LXXVI. .............................................................................................................................205

CHAPTER LXXVII. ............................................................................................................................208

CHAPTER LXXVIII...........................................................................................................................210

CHAPTER LXXIX. .............................................................................................................................212

MORAL...............................................................................................................................................215

APPENDIX. A. BRIEF SKETCH OF MORMON HISTORY...........................................................215

B. THE MOUNTAIN MEADOWS MASSACRE..............................................................................218

CONSUMMATED.............................................................................................................................220

This book is merely a personal narrative, and not a pretentious history or a philosophical dissertation. It is a

record of several years of variegated vagabondizing, and its object is rather to help the resting reader while

away an idle hour than afflict him with metaphysics, or goad him with science. Still, there is information in

the volume; information concerning an interesting episode in the history of the Far West, about which no

books have been written by persons who were on the ground in person, and saw the happenings of the time

with their own eyes. I allude to the rise, growth and culmination of the silvermining fever in Nevada a

curious episode, in some respects; the only one, of its peculiar kind, that has occurred in the land; and the

Yes, take it all around, there is quite a good deal of information in the book. I regret this very much; but

really it could not be helped: information appears to stew out of me naturally, like the precious ottar of roses

out of the otter. Sometimes it has seemed to me that I would give worlds if I could retain my facts; but it

cannot be. The more I calk up the sources, and the tighter I get, the more I leak wisdom. Therefore, I can only

My brother had just been appointed Secretary of Nevada Territoryan office of such majesty that it

concentrated in itself the duties and dignities of Treasurer, Comptroller, Secretary of State, and Acting

Governor in the Governor's absence. A salary of eighteen hundred dollars a year and the title of "Mr.

Secretary," gave to the great position an air of wild and imposing grandeur. I was young and ignorant, and I

envied my brother. I coveted his distinction and his financial splendor, but particularly and especially the

long, strange journey he was going to make, and the curious new world he was going to explore. He was

going to travel! I never had been away from home, and that word "travel" had a seductive charm for me.

Pretty soon he would be hundreds and hundreds of miles away on the great plains and deserts, and among the

mountains of the Far West, and would see buffaloes and Indians, and prairie dogs, and antelopes, and have all

kinds of adventures, and may be get hanged or scalped, and have ever such a fine time, and write home and

tell us all about it, and be a hero. And he would see the gold mines and the silver mines, and maybe go about

of an afternoon when his work was done, and pick up two or three pailfuls of shining slugs, and nuggets of

gold and silver on the hillside. And by and by he would become very rich, and return home by sea, and be

able to talk as calmly about San Francisco and the ocean, and "the isthmus" as if it was nothing of any

consequence to have seen those marvels face to face. What I suffered in contemplating his happiness, pen

cannot describe. And so, when he offered me, in cold blood, the sublime position of private secretary under

him, it appeared to me that the heavens and the earth passed away, and the firmament was rolled together as a

At the end of an hour or two I was ready for the journey. Not much packing up was necessary, because we

were going in the overland stage from the Missouri frontier to Nevada, and passengers were only allowed a

small quantity of baggage apiece. There was no Pacific railroad in those fine times of ten or twelve years

agonot a single rail of it. I only proposed to stay in Nevada three monthsI had no thought of staying

longer than that. I meant to see all I could that was new and strange, and then hurry home to business. I little

thought that I would not see the end of that threemonth pleasure excursion for six or seven uncommonly

I dreamed all night about Indians, deserts, and silver bars, and in due time, next day, we took shipping at the

We were six days going from St. Louis to "St. Jo."a trip that was so dull, and sleepy, and eventless that it

has left no more impression on my memory than if its duration had been six minutes instead of that many

days. No record is left in my mind, now, concerning it, but a confused jumble of savagelooking snags,

which we deliberately walked over with one wheel or the other; and of reefs which we butted and butted, and

then retired from and climbed over in some softer place; and of sandbars which we roosted on occasionally,

In fact, the boat might almost as well have gone to St. Jo. by land, for she was walking most of the time,

anyhowclimbing over reefs and clambering over snags patiently and laboriously all day long. The captain

said she was a "bully" boat, and all she wanted was more "shear" and a bigger wheel. I thought she wanted a

The first thing we did on that glad evening that landed us at St. Joseph was to hunt up the stageoffice, and

pay a hundred and fifty dollars apiece for tickets per overland coach to Carson City, Nevada.

The next morning, bright and early, we took a hasty breakfast, and hurried to the startingplace. Then an

inconvenience presented itself which we had not properly appreciated before, namely, that one cannot make a

heavy traveling trunk stand for twentyfive pounds of baggage because it weighs a good deal more. But

that was all we could take twentyfive pounds each. So we had to snatch our trunks open, and make a

selection in a good deal of a hurry. We put our lawful twentyfive pounds apiece all in one valise, and

shipped the trunks back to St. Louis again. It was a sad parting, for now we had no swallowtail coats and

white kid gloves to wear at Pawnee receptions in the Rocky Mountains, and no stovepipe hats nor

patentleather boots, nor anything else necessary to make life calm and peaceful. We were reduced to a

warfooting. Each of us put on a rough, heavy suit of clothing, woolen army shirt and "stogy" boots included;

and into the valise we crowded a few white shirts, some underclothing and such things. My brother, the

Secretary, took along about four pounds of United States statutes and six pounds of Unabridged Dictionary;

for we did not knowpoor innocentsthat such things could be bought in San Francisco on one day and

received in Carson City the next. I was armed to the teeth with a pitiful little Smith Wesson's sevenshooter,

which carried a ball like a homoeopathic pill, and it took the whole seven to make a dose for an adult. But I

thought it was grand. It appeared to me to be a dangerous weapon. It only had one faultyou could not hit

anything with it. One of our "conductors" practiced awhile on a cow with it, and as long as she stood still and

behaved herself she was safe; but as soon as she went to moving about, and he got to shooting at other things,

she came to grief. The Secretary had a smallsized Colt's revolver strapped around him for protection against

the Indians, and to guard against accidents he carried it uncapped. Mr. George Bemis was dismally

We had never seen him before. He wore in his belt an old original "Allen" revolver, such as irreverent people

called a "pepperbox." Simply drawing the trigger back, cocked and fired the pistol. As the trigger came

back, the hammer would begin to rise and the barrel to turn over, and presently down would drop the

hammer, and away would speed the ball. To aim along the turning barrel and hit the thing aimed at was a feat

which was probably never done with an "Allen" in the world. But George's was a reliable weapon,

nevertheless, because, as one of the stagedrivers afterward said, "If she didn't get what she went after, she

would fetch something else." And so she did. She went after a deuce of spades nailed against a tree, once, and

fetched a mule standing about thirty yards to the left of it. Bemis did not want the mule; but the owner came

out with a doublebarreled shotgun and persuaded him to buy it, anyhow. It was a cheerful weaponthe

"Allen." Sometimes all its six barrels would go off at once, and then there was no safe place in all the region

We took two or three blankets for protection against frosty weather in the mountains. In the matter of luxuries

we were modestwe took none along but some pipes and five pounds of smoking tobacco. We had two

large canteens to carry water in, between stations on the Plains, and we also took with us a little shotbag of

By eight o'clock everything was ready, and we were on the other side of the river. We jumped into the stage,

the driver cracked his whip, and we bowled away and left "the States" behind us. It was a superb summer

morning, and all the landscape was brilliant with sunshine. There was a freshness and breeziness, too, and an

exhilarating sense of emancipation from all sorts of cares and responsibilities, that almost made us feel that

the years we had spent in the close, hot city, toiling and slaving, had been wasted and thrown away. We were

spinning along through Kansas, and in the course of an hour and a half we were fairly abroad on the great

Plains. Just here the land was rollinga grand sweep of regular elevations and depressions as far as the eye

could reachlike the stately heave and swell of the ocean's bosom after a storm. And everywhere were

cornfields, accenting with squares of deeper green, this limitless expanse of grassy land. But presently this

sea upon dry ground was to lose its "rolling" character and stretch away for seven hundred miles as level as a

Our coach was a great swinging and swaying stage, of the most sumptuous descriptionan imposing cradle

on wheels. It was drawn by six handsome horses, and by the side of the driver sat the "conductor," the

legitimate captain of the craft; for it was his business to take charge and care of the mails, baggage, express

matter, and passengers. We three were the only passengers, this trip. We sat on the back seat, inside. About

all the rest of the coach was full of mail bagsfor we had three days' delayed mails with us. Almost touching

our knees, a perpendicular wall of mail matter rose up to the roof. There was a great pile of it strapped on top

of the stage, and both the fore and hind boots were full. We had twentyseven hundred pounds of it aboard,

the driver said"a little for Brigham, and Carson, and 'Frisco, but the heft of it for the Injuns, which is

powerful troublesome 'thout they get plenty of truck to read." But as he just then got up a fearful convulsion

of his countenance which was suggestive of a wink being swallowed by an earthquake, we guessed that his

remark was intended to be facetious, and to mean that we would unload the most of our mail matter

We changed horses every ten miles, all day long, and fairly flew over the hard, level road. We jumped out

and stretched our legs every time the coach stopped, and so the night found us still vivacious and unfatigued.

After supper a woman got in, who lived about fifty miles further on, and we three had to take turns at sitting

outside with the driver and conductor. Apparently she was not a talkative woman. She would sit there in the

gathering twilight and fasten her steadfast eyes on a mosquito rooting into her arm, and slowly she would

raise her other hand till she had got his range, and then she would launch a slap at him that would have jolted

a cow; and after that she would sit and contemplate the corpse with tranquil satisfactionfor she never

missed her mosquito; she was a dead shot at short range. She never removed a carcase, but left them there for

bait. I sat by this grim Sphynx and watched her kill thirty or forty mosquitoeswatched her, and waited for

her to say something, but she never did. So I finally opened the conversation myself. I said:

"Danged if I didn't begin to think you fellers was deef and dumb. I did, b'gosh. Here I've sot, and sot, and sot,

abust'n muskeeters and wonderin' what was ailin' ye. Fust I thot you was deef and dumb, then I thot you was

sick or crazy, or suthin', and then by and by I begin to reckon you was a passel of sickly fools that couldn't

The Sphynx was a Sphynx no more! The fountains of her great deep were broken up, and she rained the nine

parts of speech forty days and forty nights, metaphorically speaking, and buried us under a desolating deluge

of trivial gossip that left not a crag or pinnacle of rejoinder projecting above the tossing waste of dislocated

How we suffered, suffered, suffered! She went on, hour after hour, till I was sorry I ever opened the mosquito

question and gave her a start. She never did stop again until she got to her journey's end toward daylight; and

then she stirred us up as she was leaving the stage (for we were nodding, by that time), and said:

"Now you git out at Cottonwood, you fellers, and lay over a couple o' days, and I'll be along some time

tonight, and if I can do ye any good by edgin' in a word now and then, I'm right thar. Folks'll tell you't I've

always ben kind o' offish and partic'lar for a gal that's raised in the woods, and I am , with the ragtag and

bobtail, and a gal has to be, if she wants to be anything, but when people comes along which is my equals, I

About an hour and a half before daylight we were bowling along smoothly over the roadso smoothly that

our cradle only rocked in a gentle, lulling way, that was gradually soothing us to sleep, and dulling our

consciousnesswhen something gave away under us! We were dimly aware of it, but indifferent to it. The

coach stopped. We heard the driver and conductor talking together outside, and rummaging for a lantern, and

swearing because they could not find itbut we had no interest in whatever had happened, and it only added

to our comfort to think of those people out there at work in the murky night, and we snug in our nest with the

curtains drawn. But presently, by the sounds, there seemed to be an examination going on, and then the

This startled me broad awakeas an undefined sense of calamity is always apt to do. I said to myself: "Now,

a thoroughbrace is probably part of a horse; and doubtless a vital part, too, from the dismay in the driver's

voice. Leg, maybeand yet how could he break his leg waltzing along such a road as this? No, it can't be his

leg. That is impossible, unless he was reaching for the driver. Now, what can be the thoroughbrace of a horse,

I wonder? Well, whatever comes, I shall not air my ignorance in this crowd, anyway."

Just then the conductor's face appeared at a lifted curtain, and his lantern glared in on us and our wall of mail

matter. He said: "Gents, you'll have to turn out a spell. Thoroughbrace is broke."

We climbed out into a chill drizzle, and felt ever so homeless and dreary. When I found that the thing they

called a "thoroughbrace" was the massive combination of belts and springs which the coach rocks itself in, I

"I never saw a thoroughbrace used up like that, before, that I can remember. How did it happen?"

"Why, it happened by trying to make one coach carry three days' mail that's how it happened," said he.

"And right here is the very direction which is wrote on all the newspaperbags which was to be put out for

the Injuns for to keep 'em quiet. It's most uncommon lucky, becuz it's so nation dark I should 'a' gone by

I knew that he was in labor with another of those winks of his, though I could not see his face, because he

was bent down at work; and wishing him a safe delivery, I turned to and helped the rest get out the

mailsacks. It made a great pyramid by the roadside when it was all out. When they had mended the

thoroughbrace we filled the two boots again, but put no mail on top, and only half as much inside as there

was before. The conductor bent all the seatbacks down, and then filled the coach just half full of mailbags

from end to end. We objected loudly to this, for it left us no seats. But the conductor was wiser than we, and

said a bed was better than seats, and moreover, this plan would protect his thoroughbraces. We never wanted

any seats after that. The lazy bed was infinitely preferable. I had many an exciting day, subsequently, lying

on it reading the statutes and the dictionary, and wondering how the characters would turn out.

The conductor said he would send back a guard from the next station to take charge of the abandoned

It was now just dawn; and as we stretched our cramped legs full length on the mail sacks, and gazed out

through the windows across the wide wastes of greensward clad in cool, powdery mist, to where there was an

expectant look in the eastern horizon, our perfect enjoyment took the form of a tranquil and contented

ecstasy. The stage whirled along at a spanking gait, the breeze flapping curtains and suspended coats in a

most exhilarating way; the cradle swayed and swung luxuriously, the pattering of the horses' hoofs, the

cracking of the driver's whip, and his "Hiyi! g'lang!" were music; the spinning ground and the waltzing trees

appeared to give us a mute hurrah as we went by, and then slack up and look after us with interest, or envy, or

something; and as we lay and smoked the pipe of peace and compared all this luxury with the years of

tiresome city life that had gone before it, we felt that there was only one complete and satisfying happiness in

After breakfast, at some station whose name I have forgotten, we three climbed up on the seat behind the

driver, and let the conductor have our bed for a nap. And by and by, when the sun made me drowsy, I lay

down on my face on top of the coach, grasping the slender iron railing, and slept for an hour or more. That

will give one an appreciable idea of those matchless roads. Instinct will make a sleeping man grip a fast hold

of the railing when the stage jolts, but when it only swings and sways, no grip is necessary. Overland drivers

and conductors used to sit in their places and sleep thirty or forty minutes at a time, on good roads, while

spinning along at the rate of eight or ten miles an hour. I saw them do it, often. There was no danger about it;

a sleeping man will seize the irons in time when the coach jolts. These men were hard worked, and it was not

By and by we passed through Marysville, and over the Big Blue and Little Sandy; thence about a mile, and

entered Nebraska. About a mile further on, we came to the Big Sandyone hundred and eighty miles from

As the sun was going down, we saw the first specimen of an animal known familiarly over two thousand

miles of mountain and desertfrom Kansas clear to the Pacific Oceanas the "jackass rabbit." He is well

named. He is just like any other rabbit, except that he is from one third to twice as large, has longer legs in

proportion to his size, and has the most preposterous ears that ever were mounted on any creature but a

When he is sitting quiet, thinking about his sins, or is absentminded or unapprehensive of danger, his

majestic ears project above him conspicuously; but the breaking of a twig will scare him nearly to death, and

then he tilts his ears back gently and starts for home. All you can see, then, for the next minute, is his long

gray form stretched out straight and "streaking it" through the low sagebrush, head erect, eyes right, and

ears just canted a little to the rear, but showing you where the animal is, all the time, the same as if he carried

a jib. Now and then he makes a marvelous spring with his long legs, high over the stunted sagebrush, and

scores a leap that would make a horse envious. Presently he comes down to a long, graceful "lope," and

shortly he mysteriously disappears. He has crouched behind a sagebush, and will sit there and listen and

tremble until you get within six feet of him, when he will get under way again. But one must shoot at this

creature once, if he wishes to see him throw his heart into his heels, and do the best he knows how. He is

frightened clear through, now, and he lays his long ears down on his back, straightens himself out like a

yardstick every spring he makes, and scatters miles behind him with an easy indifference that is enchanting.

Our party made this specimen "hump himself," as the conductor said. The secretary started him with a shot

from the Colt; I commenced spitting at him with my weapon; and all in the same instant the old "Allen's"

whole broadside let go with a rattling crash, and it is not putting it too strong to say that the rabbit was

frantic! He dropped his ears, set up his tail, and left for San Francisco at a speed which can only be described

I do not remember where we first came across "sagebrush," but as I have been speaking of it I may as well

This is easily done, for if the reader can imagine a gnarled and venerable live oaktree reduced to a little

shrub two feethigh, with its rough bark, its foliage, its twisted boughs, all complete, he can picture the

"sagebrush" exactly. Often, on lazy afternoons in the mountains, I have lain on the ground with my face

under a sagebush, and entertained myself with fancying that the gnats among its foliage were liliputian

birds, and that the ants marching and countermarching about its base were liliputian flocks and herds, and

myself some vast loafer from Brobdignag waiting to catch a little citizen and eat him.

It is an imposing monarch of the forest in exquisite miniature, is the "sagebrush." Its foliage is a grayish

green, and gives that tint to desert and mountain. It smells like our domestic sage, and "sagetea" made from

it taste like the sagetea which all boys are so well acquainted with. The sagebrush is a singularly hardy

plant, and grows right in the midst of deep sand, and among barren rocks, where nothing else in the vegetable

world would try to grow, except "bunchgrass." ["Bunchgrass" grows on the bleak mountainsides of

Nevada and neighboring territories, and offers excellent feed for stock, even in the dead of winter, wherever

the snow is blown aside and exposes it; notwithstanding its unpromising home, bunchgrass is a better and

more nutritious diet for cattle and horses than almost any other hay or grass that is knownso stockmen

say.] The sagebushes grow from three to six or seven feet apart, all over the mountains and deserts of the

Far West, clear to the borders of California. There is not a tree of any kind in the deserts, for hundreds of

milesthere is no vegetation at all in a regular desert, except the sagebrush and its cousin the

"greasewood," which is so much like the sagebrush that the difference amounts to little. Campfires and hot

suppers in the deserts would be impossible but for the friendly sagebrush. Its trunk is as large as a boy's

wrist (and from that up to a man's arm), and its crooked branches are half as large as its trunkall good,

When a party camps, the first thing to be done is to cut sagebrush; and in a few minutes there is an opulent

pile of it ready for use. A hole a foot wide, two feet deep, and two feet long, is dug, and sagebrush chopped

up and burned in it till it is full to the brim with glowing coals. Then the cooking begins, and there is no

smoke, and consequently no swearing. Such a fire will keep all night, with very little replenishing; and it

makes a very sociable campfire, and one around which the most impossible reminiscences sound plausible,

Sagebrush is very fair fuel, but as a vegetable it is a distinguished failure. Nothing can abide the taste of it

but the jackass and his illegitimate child the mule. But their testimony to its nutritiousness is worth nothing,

for they will eat pine knots, or anthracite coal, or brass filings, or lead pipe, or old bottles, or anything that

comes handy, and then go off looking as grateful as if they had had oysters for dinner. Mules and donkeys

and camels have appetites that anything will relieve temporarily, but nothing satisfy.

In Syria, once, at the headwaters of the Jordan, a camel took charge of my overcoat while the tents were

being pitched, and examined it with a critical eye, all over, with as much interest as if he had an idea of

getting one made like it; and then, after he was done figuring on it as an article of apparel, he began to

contemplate it as an article of diet. He put his foot on it, and lifted one of the sleeves out with his teeth, and

chewed and chewed at it, gradually taking it in, and all the while opening and closing his eyes in a kind of

religious ecstasy, as if he had never tasted anything as good as an overcoat before, in his life. Then he

smacked his lips once or twice, and reached after the other sleeve. Next he tried the velvet collar, and smiled

a smile of such contentment that it was plain to see that he regarded that as the daintiest thing about an

overcoat. The tails went next, along with some percussion caps and cough candy, and some figpaste from

Constantinople. And then my newspaper correspondence dropped out, and he took a chance in that

manuscript letters written for the home papers. But he was treading on dangerous ground, now. He began to

come across solid wisdom in those documents that was rather weighty on his stomach; and occasionally he

would take a joke that would shake him up till it loosened his teeth; it was getting to be perilous times with

him, but he held his grip with good courage and hopefully, till at last he began to stumble on statements that

not even a camel could swallow with impunity. He began to gag and gasp, and his eyes to stand out, and his

forelegs to spread, and in about a quarter of a minute he fell over as stiff as a carpenter's workbench, and

died a death of indescribable agony. I went and pulled the manuscript out of his mouth, and found that the

sensitive creature had choked to death on one of the mildest and gentlest statements of fact that I ever laid

I was about to say, when diverted from my subject, that occasionally one finds sagebushes five or six feet

high, and with a spread of branch and foliage in proportion, but two or two and a half feet is the usual height.

As the sun went down and the evening chill came on, we made preparation for bed. We stirred up the hard

leather lettersacks, and the knotty canvas bags of printed matter (knotty and uneven because of projecting

ends and corners of magazines, boxes and books). We stirred them up and redisposed them in such a way as

to make our bed as level as possible. And we did improve it, too, though after all our work it had an upheaved

and billowy look about it, like a little piece of a stormy sea. Next we hunted up our boots from odd nooks

among the mailbags where they had settled, and put them on. Then we got down our coats, vests, pantaloons

and heavy woolen shirts, from the armloops where they had been swinging all day, and clothed ourselves in

themfor, there being no ladies either at the stations or in the coach, and the weather being hot, we had

looked to our comfort by stripping to our underclothing, at nine o'clock in the morning. All things being now

ready, we stowed the uneasy Dictionary where it would lie as quiet as possible, and placed the

watercanteens and pistols where we could find them in the dark. Then we smoked a final pipe, and swapped

a final yarn; after which, we put the pipes, tobacco and bag of coin in snug holes and caves among the

mailbags, and then fastened down the coach curtains all around, and made the place as "dark as the inside of

a cow," as the conductor phrased it in his picturesque way. It was certainly as dark as any place could

benothing was even dimly visible in it. And finally, we rolled ourselves up like silk worms, each person

Whenever the stage stopped to change horses, we would wake up, and try to recollect where we wereand

succeedand in a minute or two the stage would be off again, and we likewise. We began to get into

country, now, threaded here and there with little streams. These had high, steep banks on each side, and every

time we flew down one bank and scrambled up the other, our party inside got mixed somewhat. First we

would all be down in a pile at the forward end of the stage, nearly in a sitting posture, and in a second we

would shoot to the other end, and stand on our heads. And we would sprawl and kick, too, and ward off ends

and corners of mail bags that came lumbering over us and about us; and as the dust rose from the tumult, we

would all sneeze in chorus, and the majority of us would grumble, and probably say some hasty thing, like:

Every time we avalanched from one end of the stage to the other, the Unabridged Dictionary would come too;

and every time it came it damaged somebody. One trip it "barked" the Secretary's elbow; the next trip it hurt

me in the stomach, and the third it tilted Bemis's nose up till he could look down his nostrilshe said. The

pistols and coin soon settled to the bottom, but the pipes, pipestems, tobacco and canteens clattered and

floundered after the Dictionary every time it made an assault on us, and aided and abetted the book by

Still, all things considered, it was a very comfortable night. It wore gradually away, and when at last a cold

gray light was visible through the puckers and chinks in the curtains, we yawned and stretched with

satisfaction, shed our cocoons, and felt that we had slept as much as was necessary. By and by, as the sun

rose up and warmed the world, we pulled off our clothes and got ready for breakfast. We were just pleasantly

in time, for five minutes afterward the driver sent the weird music of his bugle winding over the grassy

solitudes, and presently we detected a low hut or two in the distance. Then the rattling of the coach, the clatter

of our six horses' hoofs, and the driver's crisp commands, awoke to a louder and stronger emphasis, and we

went sweeping down on the station at our smartest speed. It was fascinatingthat old overland

We jumped out in undress uniform. The driver tossed his gathered reins out on the ground, gaped and

stretched complacently, drew off his heavy buckskin gloves with great deliberation and insufferable

dignitytaking not the slightest notice of a dozen solicitous inquires after his health, and humbly facetious

and flattering accostings, and obsequious tenders of service, from five or six hairy and halfcivilized

stationkeepers and hostlers who were nimbly unhitching our steeds and bringing the fresh team out of the

stablesfor in the eyes of the stagedriver of that day, stationkeepers and hostlers were a sort of good

enough low creatures, useful in their place, and helping to make up a world, but not the kind of beings which

a person of distinction could afford to concern himself with; while, on the contrary, in the eyes of the

stationkeeper and the hostler, the stagedriver was a heroa great and shining dignitary, the world's

favorite son, the envy of the people, the observed of the nations. When they spoke to him they received his

insolent silence meekly, and as being the natural and proper conduct of so great a man; when he opened his

lips they all hung on his words with admiration (he never honored a particular individual with a remark, but

addressed it with a broad generality to the horses, the stables, the surrounding country and the human

underlings); when he discharged a facetious insulting personality at a hostler, that hostler was happy for the

day; when he uttered his one jestold as the hills, coarse, profane, witless, and inflicted on the same

audience, in the same language, every time his coach drove up therethe varlets roared, and slapped their

thighs, and swore it was the best thing they'd ever heard in all their lives. And how they would fly around

when he wanted a basin of water, a gourd of the same, or a light for his pipe!but they would instantly

insult a passenger if he so far forgot himself as to crave a favor at their hands. They could do that sort of

insolence as well as the driver they copied it fromfor, let it be borne in mind, the overland driver had but

The hostlers and stationkeepers treated the really powerful conductor of the coach merely with the best of

what was their idea of civility, but the driver was the only being they bowed down to and worshipped. How

admiringly they would gaze up at him in his high seat as he gloved himself with lingering deliberation, while

some happy hostler held the bunch of reins aloft, and waited patiently for him to take it! And how they would

bombard him with glorifying ejaculations as he cracked his long whip and went careering away.

The station buildings were long, low huts, made of sundried, mudcolored bricks, laid up without mortar

(adobes, the Spaniards call these bricks, and Americans shorten it to 'dobies). The roofs, which had no slant

to them worth speaking of, were thatched and then sodded or covered with a thick layer of earth, and from

this sprung a pretty rank growth of weeds and grass. It was the first time we had ever seen a man's front yard

on top of his house. The building consisted of barns, stableroom for twelve or fifteen horses, and a hut for

an eatingroom for passengers. This latter had bunks in it for the stationkeeper and a hostler or two. You

could rest your elbow on its eaves, and you had to bend in order to get in at the door. In place of a window

there was a square hole about large enough for a man to crawl through, but this had no glass in it. There was

no flooring, but the ground was packed hard. There was no stove, but the fireplace served all needful

purposes. There were no shelves, no cupboards, no closets. In a corner stood an open sack of flour, and

nestling against its base were a couple of black and venerable tin coffeepots, a tin teapot, a little bag of salt,

By the door of the stationkeeper's den, outside, was a tin washbasin, on the ground. Near it was a pail of

water and a piece of yellow bar soap, and from the eaves hung a hoary blue woolen shirt, significantly but

this latter was the stationkeeper's private towel, and only two persons in all the party might venture to use

itthe stagedriver and the conductor. The latter would not, from a sense of decency; the former would not,

because did not choose to encourage the advances of a station keeper. We had towelsin the valise; they

might as well have been in Sodom and Gomorrah. We (and the conductor) used our handkerchiefs, and the

driver his pantaloons and sleeves. By the door, inside, was fastened a small oldfashioned lookingglass

frame, with two little fragments of the original mirror lodged down in one corner of it. This arrangement

afforded a pleasant doublebarreled portrait of you when you looked into it, with one half of your head set up

a couple of inches above the other half. From the glass frame hung the half of a comb by a stringbut if I

had to describe that patriarch or die, I believe I would order some sample coffins.

It had come down from Esau and Samson, and had been accumulating hair ever sincealong with certain

impurities. In one corner of the room stood three or four rifles and muskets, together with horns and pouches

of ammunition. The stationmen wore pantaloons of coarse, countrywoven stuff, and into the seat and the

inside of the legs were sewed ample additions of buckskin, to do duty in place of leggings, when the man

rode horsebackso the pants were half dull blue and half yellow, and unspeakably picturesque. The pants

were stuffed into the tops of high boots, the heels whereof were armed with great Spanish spurs, whose little

iron clogs and chains jingled with every step. The man wore a huge beard and mustachios, an old slouch hat,

a blue woolen shirt, no suspenders, no vest, no coatin a leathern sheath in his belt, a great long "navy"

revolver (slung on right side, hammer to the front), and projecting from his boot a hornhandled

bowieknife. The furniture of the hut was neither gorgeous nor much in the way. The rockingchairs and

sofas were not present, and never had been, but they were represented by two threelegged stools, a

pineboard bench four feet long, and two empty candleboxes. The table was a greasy board on stilts, and

the table cloth and napkins had not comeand they were not looking for them, either. A battered tin platter,

a knife and fork, and a tin pint cup, were at each man's place, and the driver had a queensware saucer that

had seen better days. Of course this duke sat at the head of the table. There was one isolated piece of table

furniture that bore about it a touching air of grandeur in misfortune. This was the caster. It was German

silver, and crippled and rusty, but it was so preposterously out of place there that it was suggestive of a

tattered exiled king among barbarians, and the majesty of its native position compelled respect even in its

There was only one cruet left, and that was a stopperless, flyspecked, brokennecked thing, with two inches

of vinegar in it, and a dozen preserved flies with their heels up and looking sorry they had invested there.

The stationkeeper upended a disk of last week's bread, of the shape and size of an oldtime cheese, and

carved some slabs from it which were as good as Nicholson pavement, and tenderer.

He sliced off a piece of bacon for each man, but only the experienced old hands made out to eat it, for it was

condemned army bacon which the United States would not feed to its soldiers in the forts, and the stage

company had bought it cheap for the sustenance of their passengers and employees. We may have found this

condemned army bacon further out on the plains than the section I am locating it in, but we found itthere is

Then he poured for us a beverage which he called "Slum gullion," and it is hard to think he was not inspired

when he named it. It really pretended to be tea, but there was too much dishrag, and sand, and old

We could not eat the bread or the meat, nor drink the "slumgullion." And when I looked at that melancholy

vinegarcruet, I thought of the anecdote (a very, very old one, even at that day) of the traveler who sat down

to a table which had nothing on it but a mackerel and a pot of mustard. He asked the landlord if this was all.

"All! Why, thunder and lightning, I should think there was mackerel enough there for six."

In other days I had considered it a good, a very good, anecdote, but there was a dismal plausibility about it,

I tasted and smelt, and said I would take coffee, I believed. The stationboss stopped dead still, and glared at

me speechless. At last, when he came to, he turned away and said, as one who communes with himself upon

We could not eat, and there was no conversation among the hostlers and herdsmenwe all sat at the same

board. At least there was no conversation further than a single hurried request, now and then, from one

employee to another. It was always in the same form, and always gruffly friendly. Its western freshness and

novelty startled me, at first, and interested me; but it presently grew monotonous, and lost its charm. It was:

"Pass the bread, you son of a skunk!" No, I forgetskunk was not the word; it seems to me it was still

stronger than that; I know it was, in fact, but it is gone from my memory, apparently. However, it is no

matterprobably it was too strong for print, anyway. It is the landmark in my memory which tells me where

I first encountered the vigorous new vernacular of the occidental plains and mountains.

We gave up the breakfast, and paid our dollar apiece and went back to our mailbag bed in the coach, and

found comfort in our pipes. Right here we suffered the first diminution of our princely state. We left our six

fine horses and took six mules in their place. But they were wild Mexican fellows, and a man had to stand at

the head of each of them and hold him fast while the driver gloved and got himself ready. And when at last he

grasped the reins and gave the word, the men sprung suddenly away from the mules' heads and the coach shot

from the station as if it had issued from a cannon. How the frantic animals did scamper! It was a fierce and

furious gallopand the gait never altered for a moment till we reeled off ten or twelve miles and swept up to

So we flew along all day. At 2 P.M. the belt of timber that fringes the North Platte and marks its windings

through the vast level floor of the Plains came in sight. At 4 P.M. we crossed a branch of the river, and at 5

P.M. we crossed the Platte itself, and landed at Fort Kearney, fiftysix hours out from St. JoeTHREE

Now that was stagecoaching on the great overland, ten or twelve years ago, when perhaps not more than ten

men in America, all told, expected to live to see a railroad follow that route to the Pacific. But the railroad is

there, now, and it pictures a thousand odd comparisons and contrasts in my mind to read the following

sketch, in the New York Times, of a recent trip over almost the very ground I have been describing. I can

Another night of alternate tranquillity and turmoil. But morning came, by and by. It was another glad

awakening to fresh breezes, vast expanses of level greensward, bright sunlight, an impressive solitude utterly

without visible human beings or human habitations, and an atmosphere of such amazing magnifying

properties that trees that seemed close at hand were more than three mile away. We resumed undress uniform,

climbed atop of the flying coach, dangled our legs over the side, shouted occasionally at our frantic mules,

merely to see them lay their ears back and scamper faster, tied our hats on to keep our hair from blowing

away, and leveled an outlook over the worldwide carpet about us for things new and strange to gaze at.

Even at this day it thrills me through and through to think of the life, the gladness and the wild sense of

freedom that used to make the blood dance in my veins on those fine overland mornings!

Along about an hour after breakfast we saw the first prairiedog villages, the first antelope, and the first wolf.

If I remember rightly, this latter was the regular cayote (pronounced kyote) of the farther deserts. And if it

was, he was not a pretty creature or respectable either, for I got well acquainted with his race afterward, and

can speak with confidence. The cayote is a long, slim, sick and sorrylooking skeleton, with a gray wolfskin

stretched over it, a tolerably bushy tail that forever sags down with a despairing expression of forsakenness

and misery, a furtive and evil eye, and a long, sharp face, with slightly lifted lip and exposed teeth. He has a

general slinking expression all over. The cayote is a living, breathing allegory of Want. He is always hungry.

He is always poor, out of luck and friendless. The meanest creatures despise him, and even the fleas would

desert him for a velocipede. He is so spiritless and cowardly that even while his exposed teeth are pretending

a threat, the rest of his face is apologizing for it. And he is so homely!so scrawny, and ribby, and

coarsehaired, and pitiful. When he sees you he lifts his lip and lets a flash of his teeth out, and then turns a

little out of the course he was pursuing, depresses his head a bit, and strikes a long, softfooted trot through

the sagebrush, glancing over his shoulder at you, from time to time, till he is about out of easy pistol range,

and then he stops and takes a deliberate survey of you; he will trot fifty yards and stop againanother fifty

and stop again; and finally the gray of his gliding body blends with the gray of the sagebrush, and he

disappears. All this is when you make no demonstration against him; but if you do, he develops a livelier

interest in his journey, and instantly electrifies his heels and puts such a deal of real estate between himself

and your weapon, that by the time you have raised the hammer you see that you need a minie rifle, and by the

time you have got him in line you need a rifled cannon, and by the time you have "drawn a bead" on him you

see well enough that nothing but an unusually longwinded streak of lightning could reach him where he is

now. But if you start a swiftfooted dog after him, you will enjoy it ever so muchespecially if it is a dog

that has a good opinion of himself, and has been brought up to think he knows something about speed.

The cayote will go swinging gently off on that deceitful trot of his, and every little while he will smile a

fraudful smile over his shoulder that will fill that dog entirely full of encouragement and worldly ambition,

and make him lay his head still lower to the ground, and stretch his neck further to the front, and pant more

fiercely, and stick his tail out straighter behind, and move his furious legs with a yet wilder frenzy, and leave

a broader and broader, and higher and denser cloud of desert sand smoking behind, and marking his long

wake across the level plain! And all this time the dog is only a short twenty feet behind the cayote, and to

save the soul of him he cannot understand why it is that he cannot get perceptibly closer; and he begins to get

aggravated, and it makes him madder and madder to see how gently the cayote glides along and never pants

or sweats or ceases to smile; and he grows still more and more incensed to see how shamefully he has been

taken in by an entire stranger, and what an ignoble swindle that long, calm, softfooted trot is; and next he

notices that he is getting fagged, and that the cayote actually has to slacken speed a little to keep from running

away from himand then that towndog is mad in earnest, and he begins to strain and weep and swear, and

paw the sand higher than ever, and reach for the cayote with concentrated and desperate energy. This "spurt"

finds him six feet behind the gliding enemy, and two miles from his friends. And then, in the instant that a

wild new hope is lighting up his face, the cayote turns and smiles blandly upon him once more, and with a

something about it which seems to say: "Well, I shall have to tear myself away from you, bubbusiness is

business, and it will not do for me to be fooling along this way all day"and forthwith there is a rushing

sound, and the sudden splitting of a long crack through the atmosphere, and behold that dog is solitary and

It makes his head swim. He stops, and looks all around; climbs the nearest sandmound, and gazes into the

distance; shakes his head reflectively, and then, without a word, he turns and jogs along back to his train, and

takes up a humble position under the hindmost wagon, and feels unspeakably mean, and looks ashamed, and

hangs his tail at half mast for a week. And for as much as a year after that, whenever there is a great hue and

cry after a cayote, that dog will merely glance in that direction without emotion, and apparently observe to

The cayote lives chiefly in the most desolate and forbidding desert, along with the lizard, the jackassrabbit

and the raven, and gets an uncertain and precarious living, and earns it. He seems to subsist almost wholly on

the carcases of oxen, mules and horses that have dropped out of emigrant trains and died, and upon windfalls

of carrion, and occasional legacies of offal bequeathed to him by white men who have been opulent enough

He will eat anything in the world that his first cousins, the desert frequenting tribes of Indians will, and they

will eat anything they can bite. It is a curious fact that these latter are the only creatures known to history who

The cayote of the deserts beyond the Rocky Mountains has a peculiarly hard time of it, owing to the fact that

his relations, the Indians, are just as apt to be the first to detect a seductive scent on the desert breeze, and

follow the fragrance to the late ox it emanated from, as he is himself; and when this occurs he has to content

himself with sitting off at a little distance watching those people strip off and dig out everything edible, and

walk off with it. Then he and the waiting ravens explore the skeleton and polish the bones. It is considered

that the cayote, and the obscene bird, and the Indian of the desert, testify their blood kinship with each other

in that they live together in the waste places of the earth on terms of perfect confidence and friendship, while

hating all other creature and yearning to assist at their funerals. He does not mind going a hundred miles to

breakfast, and a hundred and fifty to dinner, because he is sure to have three or four days between meals, and

he can just as well be traveling and looking at the scenery as lying around doing nothing and adding to the

We soon learned to recognize the sharp, vicious bark of the cayote as it came across the murky plain at night

to disturb our dreams among the mailsacks; and remembering his forlorn aspect and his hard fortune, made

shift to wish him the blessed novelty of a long day's good luck and a limitless larder the morrow.

Our new conductor (just shipped) had been without sleep for twenty hours. Such a thing was very frequent.

From St. Joseph, Missouri, to Sacramento, California, by stagecoach, was nearly nineteen hundred miles,

and the trip was often made in fifteen days (the cars do it in four and a half, now), but the time specified in

the mail contracts, and required by the schedule, was eighteen or nineteen days, if I remember rightly. This

was to make fair allowance for winter storms and snows, and other unavoidable causes of detention. The

stage company had everything under strict discipline and good system. Over each two hundred and fifty miles

of road they placed an agent or superintendent, and invested him with great authority. His beat or jurisdiction

of two hundred and fifty miles was called a "division." He purchased horses, mules harness, and food for men

and beasts, and distributed these things among his stage stations, from time to time, according to his

judgment of what each station needed. He erected station buildings and dug wells. He attended to the paying

of the stationkeepers, hostlers, drivers and blacksmiths, and discharged them whenever he chose. He was a

very, very great man in his "division"a kind of Grand Mogul, a Sultan of the Indies, in whose presence

common men were modest of speech and manner, and in the glare of whose greatness even the dazzling

stagedriver dwindled to a penny dip. There were about eight of these kings, all told, on the overland route.

Next in rank and importance to the divisionagent came the "conductor." His beat was the same length as the

agent'stwo hundred and fifty miles. He sat with the driver, and (when necessary) rode that fearful distance,

night and day, without other rest or sleep than what he could get perched thus on top of the flying vehicle.

Think of it! He had absolute charge of the mails, express matter, passengers and stage, coach, until he

Consequently he had to be a man of intelligence, decision and considerable executive ability. He was usually

a quiet, pleasant man, who attended closely to his duties, and was a good deal of a gentleman. It was not

absolutely necessary that the divisionagent should be a gentleman, and occasionally he wasn't. But he was

always a general in administrative ability, and a bulldog in courage and determination otherwise the

chieftainship over the lawless underlings of the overland service would never in any instance have been to

him anything but an equivalent for a month of insolence and distress and a bullet and a coffin at the end of it.

There were about sixteen or eighteen conductors on the overland, for there was a daily stage each way, and a

Next in real and official rank and importance, after the conductor, came my delight, the drivernext in real

but not in apparent importancefor we have seen that in the eyes of the common herd the driver was to the

conductor as an admiral is to the captain of the flagship. The driver's beat was pretty long, and his

sleepingtime at the stations pretty short, sometimes; and so, but for the grandeur of his position his would

have been a sorry life, as well as a hard and a wearing one. We took a new driver every day or every night

(for they drove backward and forward over the same piece of road all the time), and therefore we never got as

well acquainted with them as we did with the conductors; and besides, they would have been above being

familiar with such rubbish as passengers, anyhow, as a general thing. Still, we were always eager to get a

sight of each and every new driver as soon as the watch changed, for each and every day we were either

anxious to get rid of an unpleasant one, or loath to part with a driver we had learned to like and had come to

be sociable and friendly with. And so the first question we asked the conductor whenever we got to where we

were to exchange drivers, was always, "Which is him?" The grammar was faulty, maybe, but we could not

know, then, that it would go into a book some day. As long as everything went smoothly, the overland driver

was well enough situated, but if a fellow driver got sick suddenly it made trouble, for the coach must go on,

and so the potentate who was about to climb down and take a luxurious rest after his long night's siege in the

midst of wind and rain and darkness, had to stay where he was and do the sick man's work. Once, in the

Rocky Mountains, when I found a driver sound asleep on the box, and the mules going at the usual

breakneck pace, the conductor said never mind him, there was no danger, and he was doing double

dutyhad driven seventyfive miles on one coach, and was now going back over it on this without rest or

sleep. A hundred and fifty miles of holding back of six vindictive mules and keeping them from climbing the

The stationkeepers, hostlers, etc., were low, rough characters, as already described; and from western

Nebraska to Nevada a considerable sprinkling of them might be fairly set down as outlawsfugitives from

justice, criminals whose best security was a section of country which was without law and without even the

pretence of it. When the "division agent" issued an order to one of these parties he did it with the full

understanding that he might have to enforce it with a navy sixshooter, and so he always went "fixed" to

Now and then a divisionagent was really obliged to shoot a hostler through the head to teach him some

simple matter that he could have taught him with a club if his circumstances and surroundings had been

different. But they were snappy, able men, those divisionagents, and when they tried to teach a subordinate

A great portion of this vast machinerythese hundreds of men and coaches, and thousands of mules and

horseswas in the hands of Mr. Ben Holliday. All the western half of the business was in his hands. This

reminds me of an incident of Palestine travel which is pertinent here, so I will transfer it just in the language

"Jack, do you see that range of mountains over yonder that bounds the Jordan valley? The mountains of

Moab, Jack! Think of it, my boythe actual mountains of Moabrenowned in Scripture history! We are

actually standing face to face with those illustrious crags and peaksand for all we know" [dropping his

voice impressively], "our eyes may be resting at this very moment upon the spot WHERE LIES THE

MYSTERIOUS GRAVE OF MOSES! Think of it, Jack!" "Moses who?" (falling inflection). "Moses who!

Jack, you ought to be ashamed of yourselfyou ought to be ashamed of such criminal ignorance. Why,

Moses, the great guide, soldier, poet, lawgiver of ancient Israel! Jack, from this spot where we stand, to

Egypt, stretches a fearful desert three hundred miles in extentand across that desert that wonderful man

brought the children of Israel!guiding them with unfailing sagacity for forty years over the sandy

desolation and among the obstructing rocks and hills, and landed them at last, safe and sound, within sight of

this very spot; and where we now stand they entered the Promised Land with anthems of rejoicing! It was a

wonderful, wonderful thing to do, Jack! Think of it!" "Forty years? Only three hundred miles? Humph! Ben

The boy meant no harm. He did not know that he had said anything that was wrong or irreverent. And so no

one scolded him or felt offended with himand nobody could but some ungenerous spirit incapable of

At noon on the fifth day out, we arrived at the "Crossing of the South Platte," alias "Julesburg," alias

"Overland City," four hundred and seventy miles from St. Josephthe strangest, quaintest, funniest frontier

It did seem strange enough to see a town again after what appeared to us such a long acquaintance with deep,

still, almost lifeless and houseless solitude! We tumbled out into the busy street feeling like meteoric people

crumbled off the corner of some other world, and wakened up suddenly in this. For an hour we took as much

interest in Overland City as if we had never seen a town before. The reason we had an hour to spare was

because we had to change our stage (for a less sumptuous affair, called a "mudwagon") and transfer our

Presently we got under way again. We came to the shallow, yellow, muddy South Platte, with its low banks

and its scattering flat sandbars and pigmy islandsa melancholy stream straggling through the centre of the

enormous flat plain, and only saved from being impossible to find with the naked eye by its sentinel rank of

scattering trees standing on either bank. The Platte was "up," they saidwhich made me wish I could see it

when it was down, if it could look any sicker and sorrier. They said it was a dangerous stream to cross, now,

because its quicksands were liable to swallow up horses, coach and passengers if an attempt was made to ford

it. But the mails had to go, and we made the attempt. Once or twice in midstream the wheels sunk into the

yielding sands so threateningly that we half believed we had dreaded and avoided the sea all our lives to be

shipwrecked in a "mudwagon" in the middle of a desert at last. But we dragged through and sped away

Next morning, just before dawn, when about five hundred and fifty miles from St. Joseph, our mudwagon

broke down. We were to be delayed five or six hours, and therefore we took horses, by invitation, and joined

a party who were just starting on a buffalo hunt. It was noble sport galloping over the plain in the dewy

freshness of the morning, but our part of the hunt ended in disaster and disgrace, for a wounded buffalo bull

chased the passenger Bemis nearly two miles, and then he forsook his horse and took to a lone tree. He was

very sullen about the matter for some twentyfour hours, but at last he began to soften little by little, and

"Well, it was not funny, and there was no sense in those gawks making themselves so facetious over it. I tell

you I was angry in earnest for awhile. I should have shot that long gangly lubber they called Hank, if I could

have done it without crippling six or seven other peoplebut of course I couldn't, the old 'Allen's' so

confounded comprehensive. I wish those loafers had been up in the tree; they wouldn't have wanted to laugh

so. If I had had a horse worth a centbut no, the minute he saw that buffalo bull wheel on him and give a

bellow, he raised straight up in the air and stood on his heels. The saddle began to slip, and I took him round

the neck and laid close to him, and began to pray. Then he came down and stood up on the other end awhile,

and the bull actually stopped pawing sand and bellowing to contemplate the inhuman spectacle.

Then the bull made a pass at him and uttered a bellow that sounded perfectly frightful, it was so close to me,

and that seemed to literally prostrate my horse's reason, and make a raving distracted maniac of him, and I

wish I may die if he didn't stand on his head for a quarter of a minute and shed tears. He was absolutely out of

his mindhe was, as sure as truth itself, and he really didn't know what he was doing. Then the bull came

charging at us, and my horse dropped down on all fours and took a fresh startand then for the next ten

minutes he would actually throw one handspring after another so fast that the bull began to get unsettled,

too, and didn't know where to start inand so he stood there sneezing, and shovelling dust over his back,

and bellowing every now and then, and thinking he had got a fifteenhundred dollar circus horse for

breakfast, certain. Well, I was first out on his neckthe horse's, not the bull'sand then underneath, and

next on his rump, and sometimes head up, and sometimes heelsbut I tell you it seemed solemn and awful

to be ripping and tearing and carrying on so in the presence of death, as you might say. Pretty soon the bull

made a snatch for us and brought away some of my horse's tail (I suppose, but do not know, being pretty busy

at the time), but something made him hungry for solitude and suggested to him to get up and hunt for it.

And then you ought to have seen that spider legged old skeleton go! and you ought to have seen the bull cut

out after him, toohead down, tongue out, tail up, bellowing like everything, and actually mowing down the

weeds, and tearing up the earth, and boosting up the sand like a whirlwind! By George, it was a hot race! I

and the saddle were back on the rump, and I had the bridle in my teeth and holding on to the pommel with

both hands. First we left the dogs behind; then we passed a jackass rabbit; then we overtook a cayote, and

were gaining on an antelope when the rotten girth let go and threw me about thirty yards off to the left, and as

the saddle went down over the horse's rump he gave it a lift with his heels that sent it more than four hundred

yards up in the air, I wish I may die in a minute if he didn't. I fell at the foot of the only solitary tree there was

in nine counties adjacent (as any creature could see with the naked eye), and the next second I had hold of the

bark with four sets of nails and my teeth, and the next second after that I was astraddle of the main limb and

blaspheming my luck in a way that made my breath smell of brimstone. I had the bull, now, if he did not

think of one thing. But that one thing I dreaded. I dreaded it very seriously. There was a possibility that the

bull might not think of it, but there were greater chances that he would. I made up my mind what I would do

in case he did. It was a little over forty feet to the ground from where I sat. I cautiously unwound the lariat

"Take it up in the tree with me? Why, how you talk. Of course I didn't. No man could do that. It fell in the

"Certainly. I unwound the lariat, and fastened one end of it to the limb. It was the very best green rawhide,

and capable of sustaining tons. I made a slipnoose in the other end, and then hung it down to see the length.

It reached down twentytwo feethalf way to the ground. I then loaded every barrel of the Allen with a

double charge. I felt satisfied. I said to myself, if he never thinks of that one thing that I dread, all rightbut

if he does, all right anyhowI am fixed for him. But don't you know that the very thing a man dreads is the

thing that always happens? Indeed it is so. I watched the bull, now, with anxiety anxiety which no one can

conceive of who has not been in such a situation and felt that at any moment death might come. Presently a

thought came into the bull's eye. I knew it! said Iif my nerve fails now, I am lost. Sure enough, it was just

"He can't, can't he? Since you know so much about it, did you ever see a bull try?"

"Well, then, what is the use of your talking that way, then? Because you never saw a thing done, is that any

"The bull started up, and got along well for about ten feet, then slipped and slid back. I breathed easier. He

tried it againgot up a little higherslipped again. But he came at it once more, and this time he was

careful. He got gradually higher and higher, and my spirits went down more and more. Up he camean inch

at a timewith his eyes hot, and his tongue hanging out. Higher and higherhitched his foot over the stump

of a limb, and looked up, as much as to say, 'You are my meat, friend.' Up againhigher and higher, and

getting more excited the closer he got. He was within ten feet of me! I took a long breath,and then said I,

'It is now or never.' I had the coil of the lariat all ready; I paid it out slowly, till it hung right over his head; all

of a sudden I let go of the slack, and the slipnoose fell fairly round his neck! Quicker than lightning I out with

the Allen and let him have it in the face. It was an awful roar, and must have scared the bull out of his senses.

When the smoke cleared away, there he was, dangling in the air, twenty foot from the ground, and going out

of one convulsion into another faster than you could count! I didn't stop to count, anyhowI shinned down

"Well, we can't refuse to believe it, and we don't. But if there were some proofs"

"Well, then, what more do you want? I never saw anybody as particular as you are about a little thing like

I made up my mind that if this man was not a liar he only missed it by the skin of his teeth. This episode

reminds me of an incident of my brief sojourn in Siam, years afterward. The European citizens of a town in

the neighborhood of Bangkok had a prodigy among them by the name of Eckert, an Englishmana person

famous for the number, ingenuity and imposing magnitude of his lies. They were always repeating his most

celebrated falsehoods, and always trying to "draw him out" before strangers; but they seldom succeeded.

Twice he was invited to the house where I was visiting, but nothing could seduce him into a specimen lie.

One day a planter named Bascom, an influential man, and a proud and sometimes irascible one, invited me to

"Now, do you know where the fault lies? It lies in putting Eckert on his guard. The minute the boys go to

pumping at Eckert he knows perfectly well what they are after, and of course he shuts up his shell. Anybody

might know he would. But when we get there, we must play him finer than that. Let him shape the

conversation to suit himselflet him drop it or change it whenever he wants to. Let him see that nobody is

trying to draw him out. Just let him have his own way. He will soon forget himself and begin to grind out lies

like a mill. Don't get impatient just keep quiet, and let me play him. I will make him lie. It does seem to me

that the boys must be blind to overlook such an obvious and simple trick as that."

Eckert received us heartilya pleasantspoken, gentlemannered creature. We sat in the veranda an hour,

sipping English ale, and talking about the king, and the sacred white elephant, the Sleeping Idol, and all

manner of things; and I noticed that my comrade never led the conversation himself or shaped it, but simply

followed Eckert's lead, and betrayed no solicitude and no anxiety about anything. The effect was shortly

perceptible. Eckert began to grow communicative; he grew more and more at his ease, and more and more

talkative and sociable. Another hour passed in the same way, and then all of a sudden Eckert said:

"Oh, by the way! I came near forgetting. I have got a thing here to astonish you. Such a thing as neither you

nor any other man ever heard ofI've got a cat that will eat cocoanut! Common green cocoanutand not

"Therewhat did I tell you? Now, that is the way to handle Eckert. You see, I have petted him along

patiently, and put his suspicions to sleep. I am glad we came. You tell the boys about it when you go back.

Cat eat a cocoanutoh, my! Now, that is just his way, exactlyhe will tell the absurdest lie, and trust to

Eckert split one open, and chopped up some pieces. Bascom smuggled a wink to me, and proffered a slice of

the fruit to puss. She snatched it, swallowed it ravenously, and asked for more!

We rode our two miles in silence, and wide apart. At least I was silent, though Bascom cuffed his horse and

cursed him a good deal, notwithstanding the horse was behaving well enough. When I branched off

"Keep the horse till morning. Andyou need not speak of this foolishness to the boys."

In a little while all interest was taken up in stretching our necks and watching for the "ponyrider"the fleet

messenger who sped across the continent from St. Joe to Sacramento, carrying letters nineteen hundred miles

in eight days! Think of that for perishable horse and human flesh and blood to do! The ponyrider was

usually a little bit of a man, brimful of spirit and endurance. No matter what time of the day or night his

watch came on, and no matter whether it was winter or summer, raining, snowing, hailing, or sleeting, or

whether his "beat" was a level straight road or a crazy trail over mountain crags and precipices, or whether it

led through peaceful regions or regions that swarmed with hostile Indians, he must be always ready to leap

into the saddle and be off like the wind! There was no idlingtime for a ponyrider on duty. He rode fifty

miles without stopping, by daylight, moonlight, starlight, or through the blackness of darknessjust as it

happened. He rode a splendid horse that was born for a racer and fed and lodged like a gentleman; kept him

at his utmost speed for ten miles, and then, as he came crashing up to the station where stood two men

holding fast a fresh, impatient steed, the transfer of rider and mailbag was made in the twinkling of an eye,

and away flew the eager pair and were out of sight before the spectator could get hardly the ghost of a look.

Both rider and horse went "flying light." The rider's dress was thin, and fitted close; he wore a

"roundabout," and a skullcap, and tucked his pantaloons into his boottops like a racerider. He carried no

armshe carried nothing that was not absolutely necessary, for even the postage on his literary freight was

He got but little frivolous correspondence to carryhis bag had business letters in it, mostly. His horse was

stripped of all unnecessary weight, too. He wore a little wafer of a racingsaddle, and no visible blanket. He

wore light shoes, or none at all. The little flat mailpockets strapped under the rider's thighs would each hold

about the bulk of a child's primer. They held many and many an important business chapter and newspaper

letter, but these were written on paper as airy and thin as goldleaf, nearly, and thus bulk and weight were

economized. The stage coach traveled about a hundred to a hundred and twentyfive miles a day

(twentyfour hours), the ponyrider about two hundred and fifty. There were about eighty ponyriders in the

saddle all the time, night and day, stretching in a long, scattering procession from Missouri to California,

forty flying eastward, and forty toward the west, and among them making four hundred gallant horses earn a

We had had a consuming desire, from the beginning, to see a ponyrider, but somehow or other all that

passed us and all that met us managed to streak by in the night, and so we heard only a whiz and a hail, and

the swift phantom of the desert was gone before we could get our heads out of the windows. But now we

were expecting one along every moment, and would see him in broad daylight. Presently the driver exclaims:

Every neck is stretched further, and every eye strained wider. Away across the endless dead level of the

prairie a black speck appears against the sky, and it is plain that it moves. Well, I should think so!

In a second or two it becomes a horse and rider, rising and falling, rising and fallingsweeping toward us

nearer and nearergrowing more and more distinct, more and more sharply definednearer and still nearer,

and the flutter of the hoofs comes faintly to the earanother instant a whoop and a hurrah from our upper

deck, a wave of the rider's hand, but no reply, and man and horse burst past our excited faces, and go winging

So sudden is it all, and so like a flash of unreal fancy, that but for the flake of white foam left quivering and

perishing on a mailsack after the vision had flashed by and disappeared, we might have doubted whether we

We rattled through Scott's Bluffs Pass, by and by. It was along here somewhere that we first came across

genuine and unmistakable alkali water in the road, and we cordially hailed it as a firstclass curiosity, and a

thing to be mentioned with eclat in letters to the ignorant at home. This water gave the road a soapy

appearance, and in many places the ground looked as if it had been whitewashed. I think the strange alkali

water excited us as much as any wonder we had come upon yet, and I know we felt very complacent and

conceited, and better satisfied with life after we had added it to our list of things which we had seen and some

other people had not. In a small way we were the same sort of simpletons as those who climb unnecessarily

the perilous peaks of Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn, and derive no pleasure from it except the reflection that

it isn't a common experience. But once in a while one of those parties trips and comes darting down the long

mountaincrags in a sitting posture, making the crusted snow smoke behind him, flitting from bench to

bench, and from terrace to terrace, jarring the earth where he strikes, and still glancing and flitting on again,

sticking an iceberg into himself every now and then, and tearing his clothes, snatching at things to save

himself, taking hold of trees and fetching them along with him, roots and all, starting little rocks now and

then, then big boulders, then acres of ice and snow and patches of forest, gathering and still gathering as he

goes, adding and still adding to his massed and sweeping grandeur as he nears a three thousandfoot

precipice, till at last he waves his hat magnificently and rides into eternity on the back of a raging and tossing

This is all very fine, but let us not be carried away by excitement, but ask calmly, how does this person feel

about it in his cooler moments next day, with six or seven thousand feet of snow and stuff on top of him?

We crossed the sand hills near the scene of the Indian mail robbery and massacre of 1856, wherein the driver

and conductor perished, and also all the passengers but one, it was supposed; but this must have been a

mistake, for at different times afterward on the Pacific coast I was personally acquainted with a hundred and

thirtythree or four people who were wounded during that massacre, and barely escaped with their lives.

There was no doubt of the truth of itI had it from their own lips. One of these parties told me that he kept

coming across arrowheads in his system for nearly seven years after the massacre; and another of them told

me that he was struck so literally full of arrows that after the Indians were gone and he could raise up and

examine himself, he could not restrain his tears, for his clothes were completely ruined.

The most trustworthy tradition avers, however, that only one man, a person named Babbitt, survived the

massacre, and he was desperately wounded. He dragged himself on his hands and knee (for one leg was

broken) to a station several miles away. He did it during portions of two nights, lying concealed one day and

part of another, and for more than forty hours suffering unimaginable anguish from hunger, thirst and bodily

pain. The Indians robbed the coach of everything it contained, including quite an amount of treasure.

We passed Fort Laramie in the night, and on the seventh morning out we found ourselves in the Black Hills,

with Laramie Peak at our elbow (apparently) looming vast and solitarya deep, dark, rich indigo blue in

hue, so portentously did the old colossus frown under his beetling brows of stormcloud. He was thirty or

forty miles away, in reality, but he only seemed removed a little beyond the low ridge at our right. We

breakfasted at HorseShoe Station, six hundred and seventysix miles out from St. Joseph. We had now

reached a hostile Indian country, and during the afternoon we passed Laparelle Station, and enjoyed great

discomfort all the time we were in the neighborhood, being aware that many of the trees we dashed by at

arm's length concealed a lurking Indian or two. During the preceding night an ambushed savage had sent a

bullet through the ponyrider's jacket, but he had ridden on, just the same, because ponyriders were not

allowed to stop and inquire into such things except when killed. As long as they had life enough left in them

they had to stick to the horse and ride, even if the Indians had been waiting for them a week, and were

entirely out of patience. About two hours and a half before we arrived at Laparelle Station, the keeper in

charge of it had fired four times at an Indian, but he said with an injured air that the Indian had "skipped

around so's to spile everythingand ammunition's blamed skurse, too." The most natural inference conveyed

by his manner of speaking was, that in "skipping around," the Indian had taken an unfair advantage.

The coach we were in had a neat hole through its fronta reminiscence of its last trip through this region.

The bullet that made it wounded the driver slightly, but he did not mind it much. He said the place to keep a

man "huffy" was down on the Southern Overland, among the Apaches, before the company moved the stage

line up on the northern route. He said the Apaches used to annoy him all the time down there, and that he

came as near as anything to starving to death in the midst of abundance, because they kept him so leaky with

We shut the blinds down very tightly that first night in the hostile Indian country, and lay on our arms. We

slept on them some, but most of the time we only lay on them. We did not talk much, but kept quiet and

listened. It was an inkyblack night, and occasionally rainy. We were among woods and rocks, hills and

gorgesso shut in, in fact, that when we peeped through a chink in a curtain, we could discern nothing. The

driver and conductor on top were still, too, or only spoke at long intervals, in low tones, as is the way of men

in the midst of invisible dangers. We listened to raindrops pattering on the roof; and the grinding of the

wheels through the muddy gravel; and the low wailing of the wind; and all the time we had that absurd sense

upon us, inseparable from travel at night in a closecurtained vehicle, the sense of remaining perfectly still in

one place, notwithstanding the jolting and swaying of the vehicle, the trampling of the horses, and the

grinding of the wheels. We listened a long time, with intent faculties and bated breath; every time one of us

would relax, and draw a long sigh of relief and start to say something, a comrade would be sure to utter a

sudden "Hark!" and instantly the experimenter was rigid and listening again. So the tiresome minutes and

decades of minutes dragged away, until at last our tense forms filmed over with a dulled consciousness, and

we slept, if one might call such a condition by so strong a namefor it was a sleep set with a hairtrigger. It

was a sleep seething and teeming with a weird and distressful confusion of shreds and fagends of

dreamsa sleep that was a chaos. Presently, dreams and sleep and the sullen hush of the night were startled

by a ringing report, and cloven by such a long, wild, agonizing shriek! Then we heardten steps from the

[Two pistol shots; a confusion of voices and the trampling of many feet, as if a crowd were closing and

surging together around some object; several heavy, dull blows, as with a club; a voice that said appealingly,

"Don't, gentlemen, please don'tI'm a dead man!" Then a fainter groan, and another blow, and away sped

What a startle it was! Eight seconds would amply cover the time it occupiedmaybe even five would do it.

We only had time to plunge at a curtain and unbuckle and unbutton part of it in an awkward and hindering

flurry, when our whip cracked sharply overhead, and we went rumbling and thundering away, down a

We fed on that mystery the rest of the nightwhat was left of it, for it was waning fast. It had to remain a

present mystery, for all we could get from the conductor in answer to our hails was something that sounded,

So we lit our pipes and opened the corner of a curtain for a chimney, and lay there in the dark, listening to

each other's story of how he first felt and how many thousand Indians he first thought had hurled themselves

upon us, and what his remembrance of the subsequent sounds was, and the order of their occurrence. And we

theorized, too, but there was never a theory that would account for our driver's voice being out there, nor yet

account for his Indian murderers talking such good English, if they were Indians.

So we chatted and smoked the rest of the night comfortably away, our boding anxiety being somehow

We never did get much satisfaction about that dark occurrence. All that we could make out of the odds and

ends of the information we gathered in the morning, was that the disturbance occurred at a station; that we

changed drivers there, and that the driver that got off there had been talking roughly about some of the

outlaws that infested the region ("for there wasn't a man around there but had a price on his head and didn't

dare show himself in the settlements," the conductor said); he had talked roughly about these characters, and

ought to have "drove up there with his pistol cocked and ready on the seat alongside of him, and begun

That was all we could gather, and we could see that neither the conductor nor the new driver were much

concerned about the matter. They plainly had little respect for a man who would deliver offensive opinions of

people and then be so simple as to come into their presence unprepared to "back his judgment," as they

pleasantly phrased the killing of any fellowbeing who did not like said opinions. And likewise they plainly

had a contempt for the man's poor discretion in venturing to rouse the wrath of such utterly reckless wild

This remark created an entire revolution in my curiosity. I cared nothing now about the Indians, and even lost

interest in the murdered driver. There was such magic in that name, SLADE! Day or night, now, I stood

always ready to drop any subject in hand, to listen to something new about Slade and his ghastly exploits.

Even before we got to Overland City, we had begun to hear about Slade and his "division" (for he was a

"divisionagent") on the Overland; and from the hour we had left Overland City we had heard drivers and

conductors talk about only three things "Californy," the Nevada silver mines, and this desperado Slade.

And a deal the most of the talk was about Slade. We had gradually come to have a realizing sense of the fact

that Slade was a man whose heart and hands and soul were steeped in the blood of offenders against his

dignity; a man who awfully avenged all injuries, affront, insults or slights, of whatever kindon the spot if

he could, years afterward if lack of earlier opportunity compelled it; a man whose hate tortured him day and

night till vengeance appeased itand not an ordinary vengeance either, but his enemy's absolute

deathnothing less; a man whose face would light up with a terrible joy when he surprised a foe and had

him at a disadvantage. A high and efficient servant of the Overland, an outlaw among outlaws and yet their

relentless scourge, Slade was at once the most bloody, the most dangerous and the most valuable citizen that

Really and truly, two thirds of the talk of drivers and conductors had been about this man Slade, ever since

the day before we reached Julesburg. In order that the eastern reader may have a clear conception of what a

Rocky Mountain desperado is, in his highest state of development, I will reduce all this mass of overland

Slade was born in Illinois, of good parentage. At about twentysix years of age he killed a man in a quarrel

and fled the country. At St. Joseph, Missouri, he joined one of the early Californiabound emigrant trains,

and was given the post of trainmaster. One day on the plains he had an angry dispute with one of his

wagondrivers, and both drew their revolvers. But the driver was the quicker artist, and had his weapon

cocked first. So Slade said it was a pity to waste life on so small a matter, and proposed that the pistols be

thrown on the ground and the quarrel settled by a fistfight. The unsuspecting driver agreed, and threw down

He made his escape, and lived a wild life for awhile, dividing his time between fighting Indians and avoiding

an Illinois sheriff, who had been sent to arrest him for his first murder. It is said that in one Indian battle he

killed three savages with his own hand, and afterward cut their ears off and sent them, with his compliments,

Slade soon gained a name for fearless resolution, and this was sufficient merit to procure for him the

important post of overland divisionagent at Julesburg, in place of Mr. Jules, removed. For some time

previously, the company's horses had been frequently stolen, and the coaches delayed, by gangs of outlaws,

who were wont to laugh at the idea of any man's having the temerity to resent such outrages. Slade resented

The outlaws soon found that the new agent was a man who did not fear anything that breathed the breath of

life. He made short work of all offenders. The result was that delays ceased, the company's property was let

alone, and no matter what happened or who suffered, Slade's coaches went through, every time! True, in

order to bring about this wholesome change, Slade had to kill several mensome say three, others say four,

and others sixbut the world was the richer for their loss. The first prominent difficulty he had was with the

exagent Jules, who bore the reputation of being a reckless and desperate man himself. Jules hated Slade for

supplanting him, and a good fair occasion for a fight was all he was waiting for. By and by Slade dared to

employ a man whom Jules had once discharged. Next, Slade seized a team of stagehorses which he accused

Jules of having driven off and hidden somewhere for his own use. War was declared, and for a day or two the

two men walked warily about the streets, seeking each other, Jules armed with a doublebarreled shot gun,

and Slade with his historycreating revolver. Finally, as Slade stepped into a store Jules poured the contents

of his gun into him from behind the door. Slade was plucky, and Jules got several bad pistol wounds in

Then both men fell, and were carried to their respective lodgings, both swearing that better aim should do

deadlier work next time. Both were bedridden a long time, but Jules got to his feet first, and gathering his

possessions together, packed them on a couple of mules, and fled to the Rocky Mountains to gather strength

in safety against the day of reckoning. For many months he was not seen or heard of, and was gradually

dropped out of the remembrance of all save Slade himself. But Slade was not the man to forget him. On the

contrary, common report said that Slade kept a reward standing for his capture, dead or alive!

After awhile, seeing that Slade's energetic administration had restored peace and order to one of the worst

divisions of the road, the overland stage company transferred him to the Rocky Ridge division in the Rocky

Mountains, to see if he could perform a like miracle there. It was the very paradise of outlaws and

desperadoes. There was absolutely no semblance of law there. Violence was the rule. Force was the only

recognized authority. The commonest misunderstandings were settled on the spot with the revolver or the

knife. Murders were done in open day, and with sparkling frequency, and nobody thought of inquiring into

them. It was considered that the parties who did the killing had their private reasons for it; for other people to

meddle would have been looked upon as indelicate. After a murder, all that Rocky Mountain etiquette

required of a spectator was, that he should help the gentleman bury his game otherwise his churlishness

would surely be remembered against him the first time he killed a man himself and needed a neighborly turn

Slade took up his residence sweetly and peacefully in the midst of this hive of horsethieves and assassins,

and the very first time one of them aired his insolent swaggerings in his presence he shot him dead! He began

a raid on the outlaws, and in a singularly short space of time he had completely stopped their depredations on

the stage stock, recovered a large number of stolen horses, killed several of the worst desperadoes of the

district, and gained such a dread ascendancy over the rest that they respected him, admired him, feared him,

obeyed him! He wrought the same marvelous change in the ways of the community that had marked his

administration at Overland City. He captured two men who had stolen overland stock, and with his own

hands he hanged them. He was supreme judge in his district, and he was jury and executioner likewiseand

not only in the case of offences against his employers, but against passing emigrants as well. On one occasion

some emigrants had their stock lost or stolen, and told Slade, who chanced to visit their camp. With a single

companion he rode to a ranch, the owners of which he suspected, and opening the door, commenced firing,

From a bloodthirstily interesting little Montana book. "The Vigilantes of Montana," by Prof. Thos. J.

On one of these occasions, it is said he killed the father of the fine little halfbreed boy Jemmy, whom he

adopted, and who lived with his widow after his execution. Stories of Slade's hanging men, and of

innumerable assaults, shootings, stabbings and beatings, in which he was a principal actor, form part of the

legends of the stage line. As for minor quarrels and shootings, it is absolutely certain that a minute history of

Slade was a matchless marksman with a navy revolver. The legends say that one morning at Rocky Ridge,

when he was feeling comfortable, he saw a man approaching who had offended him some days

beforeobserve the fine memory he had for matters like thatand, "Gentlemen," said Slade, drawing, "it is

a good twentyyard shotI'll clip the third button on his coat!" Which he did. The bystanders all admired it.

On one occasion a man who kept a little whiskyshelf at the station did something which angered

Sladeand went and made his will. A day or two afterward Slade came in and called for some brandy. The

man reached under the counter (ostensibly to get a bottlepossibly to get something else), but Slade smiled

upon him that peculiarly bland and satisfied smile of his which the neighbors had long ago learned to

recognize as a deathwarrant in disguise, and told him to "none of that!pass out the highpriced article."

So the poor barkeeper had to turn his back and get the highpriced brandy from the shelf; and when he

faced around again he was looking into the muzzle of Slade's pistol. "And the next instant," added my

The stagedrivers and conductors told us that sometimes Slade would leave a hated enemy wholly

unmolested, unnoticed and unmentioned, for weeks togetherhad done it once or twice at any rate. And

some said they believed he did it in order to lull the victims into unwatchfulness, so that he could get the

advantage of them, and others said they believed he saved up an enemy that way, just as a schoolboy saves up

a cake, and made the pleasure go as far as it would by gloating over the anticipation. One of these cases was

that of a Frenchman who had offended Slade. To the surprise of everybody Slade did not kill him on the spot,

but let him alone for a considerable time. Finally, however, he went to the Frenchman's house very late one

night, knocked, and when his enemy opened the door, shot him deadpushed the corpse inside the door with

his foot, set the house on fire and burned up the dead man, his widow and three children! I heard this story

from several different people, and they evidently believed what they were saying. It may be true, and it may

Slade was captured, once, by a party of men who intended to lynch him. They disarmed him, and shut him up

in a strong loghouse, and placed a guard over him. He prevailed on his captors to send for his wife, so that

he might have a last interview with her. She was a brave, loving, spirited woman. She jumped on a horse and

rode for life and death. When she arrived they let her in without searching her, and before the door could be

closed she whipped out a couple of revolvers, and she and her lord marched forth defying the party. And

In the fulness of time Slade's myrmidons captured his ancient enemy Jules, whom they found in a

wellchosen hidingplace in the remote fastnesses of the mountains, gaining a precarious livelihood with his

rifle. They brought him to Rocky Ridge, bound hand and foot, and deposited him in the middle of the

cattleyard with his back against a post. It is said that the pleasure that lit Slade's face when he heard of it

was something fearful to contemplate. He examined his enemy to see that he was securely tied, and then went

to bed, content to wait till morning before enjoying the luxury of killing him. Jules spent the night in the

cattleyard, and it is a region where warm nights are never known. In the morning Slade practised on him

with his revolver, nipping the flesh here and there, and occasionally clipping off a finger, while Jules begged

him to kill him outright and put him out of his misery. Finally Slade reloaded, and walking up close to his

victim, made some characteristic remarks and then dispatched him. The body lay there half a day, nobody

venturing to touch it without orders, and then Slade detailed a party and assisted at the burial himself. But he

first cut off the dead man's ears and put them in his vest pocket, where he carried them for some time with

great satisfaction. That is the story as I have frequently heard it told and seen it in print in California

In due time we rattled up to a stagestation, and sat down to breakfast with a halfsavage, halfcivilized

company of armed and bearded mountaineers, ranchmen and station employees. The most gentlemanly

appearing, quiet and affable officer we had yet found along the road in the Overland Company's service was

the person who sat at the head of the table, at my elbow. Never youth stared and shivered as I did when I

Here was romance, and I sitting face to face with it!looking upon it touching ithobnobbing with it, as

it were! Here, right by my side, was the actual ogre who, in fights and brawls and various ways, had taken the

lives of twentysix human beings, or all men lied about him! I suppose I was the proudest stripling that ever

He was so friendly and so gentlespoken that I warmed to him in spite of his awful history. It was hardly

possible to realize that this pleasant person was the pitiless scourge of the outlaws, the

rawheadandbloody bones the nursing mothers of the mountains terrified their children with. And to this

day I can remember nothing remarkable about Slade except that his face was rather broad across the cheek

bones, and that the cheek bones were low and the lips peculiarly thin and straight. But that was enough to

leave something of an effect upon me, for since then I seldom see a face possessing those characteristics

The coffee ran out. At least it was reduced to one tincupful, and Slade was about to take it when he saw that

He politely offered to fill it, but although I wanted it, I politely declined. I was afraid he had not killed

anybody that morning, and might be needing diversion. But still with firm politeness he insisted on filling my

cup, and said I had traveled all night and better deserved it than heand while he talked he placidly poured

the fluid, to the last drop. I thanked him and drank it, but it gave me no comfort, for I could not feel sure that

he would not be sorry, presently, that he had given it away, and proceed to kill me to distract his thoughts

from the loss. But nothing of the kind occurred. We left him with only twentysix dead people to account for,

and I felt a tranquil satisfaction in the thought that in so judiciously taking care of No. 1 at that

breakfasttable I had pleasantly escaped being No. 27. Slade came out to the coach and saw us off, first

ordering certain rearrangements of the mailbags for our comfort, and then we took leave of him, satisfied

And sure enough, two or three years afterward, we did hear him again. News came to the Pacific coast that

the Vigilance Committee in Montana (whither Slade had removed from Rocky Ridge) had hanged him. I find

an account of the affair in the thrilling little book I quoted a paragraph from in the last chapter"The

Vigilantes of Montana; being a Reliable Account of the Capture, Trial and Execution of Henry Plummer's

Notorious Road Agent Band: By Prof. Thos. J. Dimsdale, Virginia City, M.T." Mr. Dimsdale's chapter is well

worth reading, as a specimen of how the people of the frontier deal with criminals when the courts of law

prove inefficient. Mr. Dimsdale makes two remarks about Slade, both of which are accurately descriptive,

and one of which is exceedingly picturesque: "Those who saw him in his natural state only, would pronounce

him to be a kind husband, a most hospitable host and a courteous gentleman; on the contrary, those who met

him when maddened with liquor and surrounded by a gang of armed roughs, would pronounce him a fiend

incarnate." And this: "From Fort Kearney, west, he was feared a great deal more than the almighty." For

compactness, simplicity and vigor of expression, I will "back" that sentence against anything in literature. Mr.

Dimsdale's narrative is as follows. In all places where italics occur, they are mine:

There is something about the desperadonature that is wholly unaccountableat least it looks

unaccountable. It is this. The true desperado is gifted with splendid courage, and yet he will take the most

infamous advantage of his enemy; armed and free, he will stand up before a host and fight until he is shot all

to pieces, and yet when he is under the gallows and helpless he will cry and plead like a child. Words are

cheap, and it is easy to call Slade a coward (all executed men who do not "die game" are promptly called

cowards by unreflecting people), and when we read of Slade that he "had so exhausted himself by tears,

prayers and lamentations, that he had scarcely strength left to stand under the fatal beam," the disgraceful

word suggests itself in a momentyet in frequently defying and inviting the vengeance of banded Rocky

Mountain cutthroats by shooting down their comrades and leaders, and never offering to hide or fly, Slade

showed that he was a man of peerless bravery. No coward would dare that. Many a notorious coward, many a

chickenlivered poltroon, coarse, brutal, degraded, has made his dying speech without a quaver in his voice

and been swung into eternity with what looked liked the calmest fortitude, and so we are justified in

believing, from the low intellect of such a creature, that it was not moral courage that enabled him to do it.

Then, if moral courage is not the requisite quality, what could it have been that this stouthearted Slade

lacked?this bloody, desperate, kindlymannered, urbane gentleman, who never hesitated to warn his most

ruffianly enemies that he would kill them whenever or wherever he came across them next! I think it is a

Just beyond the breakfaststation we overtook a Mormon emigrant train of thirtythree wagons; and

tramping wearily along and driving their herd of loose cows, were dozens of coarseclad and sadlooking

men, women and children, who had walked as they were walking now, day after day for eight lingering

weeks, and in that time had compassed the distance our stage had come in eight days and three hoursseven

hundred and ninety eight miles! They were dusty and uncombed, hatless, bonnetless and ragged, and they

After breakfast, we bathed in Horse Creek, a (previously) limpid, sparkling streaman appreciated luxury,

for it was very seldom that our furious coach halted long enough for an indulgence of that kind. We changed

horses ten or twelve times in every twentyfour hourschanged mules, rathersix mulesand did it

nearly every time in four minutes. It was lively work. As our coach rattled up to each station six harnessed

mules stepped gayly from the stable; and in the twinkling of an eye, almost, the old team was out, and the

During the afternoon we passed Sweetwater Creek, Independence Rock, Devil's Gate and the Devil's Gap.

The latter were wild specimens of rugged scenery, and full of interestwe were in the heart of the Rocky

Mountains, now. And we also passed by "Alkali" or "Soda Lake," and we woke up to the fact that our

journey had stretched a long way across the world when the driver said that the Mormons often came there

from Great Salt Lake City to haul away saleratus. He said that a few days gone by they had shoveled up

enough pure saleratus from the ground (it was a dry lake) to load two wagons, and that when they got these

two wagonsloads of a drug that cost them nothing, to Salt Lake, they could sell it for twentyfive cents a

In the night we sailed by a most notable curiosity, and one we had been hearing a good deal about for a day

or two, and were suffering to see. This was what might be called a natural icehouse. It was August, now,

and sweltering weather in the daytime, yet at one of the stations the men could scape the soil on the hillside

under the lee of a range of boulders, and at a depth of six inches cut out pure blocks of icehard, compactly

Toward dawn we got under way again, and presently as we sat with raised curtains enjoying our

earlymorning smoke and contemplating the first splendor of the rising sun as it swept down the long array

of mountain peaks, flushing and gilding crag after crag and summit after summit, as if the invisible Creator

reviewed his gray veterans and they saluted with a smile, we hove in sight of South Pass City. The

hotelkeeper, the postmaster, the blacksmith, the mayor, the constable, the city marshal and the principal

citizen and property holder, all came out and greeted us cheerily, and we gave him good day. He gave us a

little Indian news, and a little Rocky Mountain news, and we gave him some Plains information in return. He

then retired to his lonely grandeur and we climbed on up among the bristling peaks and the ragged clouds.

South Pass City consisted of four log cabins, one if which was unfinished, and the gentleman with all those

offices and titles was the chiefest of the ten citizens of the place. Think of hotelkeeper, postmaster,

blacksmith, mayor, constable, city marshal and principal citizen all condensed into one person and crammed

into one skin. Bemis said he was "a perfect Allen's revolver of dignities." And he said that if he were to die as

postmaster, or as blacksmith, or as postmaster and blacksmith both, the people might stand it; but if he were

Two miles beyond South Pass City we saw for the first time that mysterious marvel which all Western

untraveled boys have heard of and fully believe in, but are sure to be astounded at when they see it with their

own eyes, neverthelessbanks of snow in dead summer time. We were now far up toward the sky, and knew

all the time that we must presently encounter lofty summits clad in the "eternal snow" which was so common

place a matter of mention in books, and yet when I did see it glittering in the sun on stately domes in the

distance and knew the month was August and that my coat was hanging up because it was too warm to wear

it, I was full as much amazed as if I never had heard of snow in August before. Truly, "seeing is

believing"and many a man lives a long life through, thinking he believes certain universally received and

well established things, and yet never suspects that if he were confronted by those things once, he would

discover that he did not really believe them before, but only thought he believed them.

In a little while quite a number of peaks swung into view with long claws of glittering snow clasping them;

and with here and there, in the shade, down the mountain side, a little solitary patch of snow looking no larger

than a lady's pockethandkerchief but being in reality as large as a "public square."

And now, at last, we were fairly in the renowned SOUTH PASS, and whirling gayly along high above the

common world. We were perched upon the extreme summit of the great range of the Rocky Mountains,

toward which we had been climbing, patiently climbing, ceaselessly climbing, for days and nights

togetherand about us was gathered a convention of Nature's kings that stood ten, twelve, and even thirteen

thousand feet highgrand old fellows who would have to stoop to see Mount Washington, in the twilight.

We were in such an airy elevation above the creeping populations of the earth, that now and then when the

obstructing crags stood out of the way it seemed that we could look around and abroad and contemplate the

whole great globe, with its dissolving views of mountains, seas and continents stretching away through the

As a general thing the Pass was more suggestive of a valley than a suspension bridge in the cloudsbut it

strongly suggested the latter at one spot. At that place the upper third of one or two majestic purple domes

projected above our level on either hand and gave us a sense of a hidden great deep of mountains and plains

and valleys down about their bases which we fancied we might see if we could step to the edge and look

over. These Sultans of the fastnesses were turbaned with tumbled volumes of cloud, which shredded away

from time to time and drifted off fringed and torn, trailing their continents of shadow after them; and catching

presently on an intercepting peak, wrapped it about and brooded there then shredded away again and left

the purple peak, as they had left the purple domes, downy and white with newlaid snow. In passing, these

monstrous rags of cloud hung low and swept along right over the spectator's head, swinging their tatters so

nearly in his face that his impulse was to shrink when they came closet. In the one place I speak of, one could

look below him upon a world of diminishing crags and canyons leading down, down, and away to a vague

plain with a thread in it which was a road, and bunches of feathers in it which were trees,a pretty picture

sleeping in the sunlightbut with a darkness stealing over it and glooming its features deeper and deeper

under the frown of a coming storm; and then, while no film or shadow marred the noon brightness of his high

perch, he could watch the tempest break forth down there and see the lightnings leap from crag to crag and

the sheeted rain drive along the canyonsides, and hear the thunders peal and crash and roar. We had this

We bowled along cheerily, and presently, at the very summit (though it had been all summit to us, and all

equally level, for half an hour or more), we came to a spring which spent its water through two outlets and

sent it in opposite directions. The conductor said that one of those streams which we were looking at, was just

starting on a journey westward to the Gulf of California and the Pacific Ocean, through hundreds and even

thousands of miles of desert solitudes. He said that the other was just leaving its home among the

snowpeaks on a similar journey eastward and we knew that long after we should have forgotten the

simple rivulet it would still be plodding its patient way down the mountain sides, and canyonbeds, and

between the banks of the Yellowstone; and by and by would join the broad Missouri and flow through

unknown plains and deserts and unvisited wildernesses; and add a long and troubled pilgrimage among snags

and wrecks and sandbars; and enter the Mississippi, touch the wharves of St. Louis and still drift on,

traversing shoals and rocky channels, then endless chains of bottomless and ample bends, walled with

unbroken forests, then mysterious byways and secret passages among woody islands, then the chained bends

again, bordered with wide levels of shining sugarcane in place of the sombre forests; then by New Orleans

and still other chains of bendsand finally, after two long months of daily and nightly harassment,

excitement, enjoyment, adventure, and awful peril of parched throats, pumps and evaporation, pass the Gulf

and enter into its rest upon the bosom of the tropic sea, never to look upon its snowpeaks again or regret

I freighted a leaf with a mental message for the friends at home, and dropped it in the stream. But I put no

On the summit we overtook an emigrant train of many wagons, many tired men and women, and many a

In the wofully dusty horseman in charge of the expedition I recognized John . Of all persons in the

world to meet on top of the Rocky Mountains thousands of miles from home, he was the last one I should

have looked for. We were schoolboys together and warm friends for years. But a boyish prank of mine had

disruptured this friendship and it had never been renewed. The act of which I speak was this. I had been

accustomed to visit occasionally an editor whose room was in the third story of a building and overlooked the

street. One day this editor gave me a watermelon which I made preparations to devour on the spot, but

chancing to look out of the window, I saw John standing directly under it and an irresistible desire came upon

me to drop the melon on his head, which I immediately did. I was the loser, for it spoiled the melon, and John

never forgave me and we dropped all intercourse and parted, but now met again under these circumstances.

We recognized each other simultaneously, and hands were grasped as warmly as if no coldness had ever

existed between us, and no allusion was made to any. All animosities were buried and the simple fact of

meeting a familiar face in that isolated spot so far from home, was sufficient to make us forget all things but

pleasant ones, and we parted again with sincere "goodbye" and "God bless you" from both.

We had been climbing up the long shoulders of the Rocky Mountains for many tedious hourswe started

We left the snowy Wind River Mountains and Uinta Mountains behind, and sped away, always through

splendid scenery but occasionally through long ranks of white skeletons of mules and oxenmonuments of

the huge emigration of other daysand here and there were upended boards or small piles of stones which

It was the loneliest land for a grave! A land given over to the cayote and the ravenwhich is but another

name for desolation and utter solitude. On damp, murky nights, these scattered skeletons gave forth a soft,

hideous glow, like very faint spots of moonlight starring the vague desert. It was because of the phosphorus

in the bones. But no scientific explanation could keep a body from shivering when he drifted by one of those

At midnight it began to rain, and I never saw anything like itindeed, I did not even see this, for it was too

dark. We fastened down the curtains and even caulked them with clothing, but the rain streamed in in twenty

places, nothwithstanding. There was no escape. If one moved his feet out of a stream, he brought his body

under one; and if he moved his body he caught one somewhere else. If he struggled out of the drenched

blankets and sat up, he was bound to get one down the back of his neck. Meantime the stage was wandering

about a plain with gaping gullies in it, for the driver could not see an inch before his face nor keep the road,

and the storm pelted so pitilessly that there was no keeping the horses still. With the first abatement the

conductor turned out with lanterns to look for the road, and the first dash he made was into a chasm about

fourteen feet deep, his lantern following like a meteor. As soon as he touched bottom he sang out frantically:

To which the driver, who was looking over the precipice where he had disappeared, replied, with an injured

The conductor was more than an hour finding the roada matter which showed us how far we had wandered

and what chances we had been taking. He traced our wheeltracks to the imminent verge of danger, in two

places. I have always been glad that we were not killed that night. I do not know any particular reason, but I

have always been glad. In the morning, the tenth day out, we crossed Green River, a fine, large, limpid

streamstuck in it with the water just up to the top of our mail bed, and waited till extra teams were put on

to haul us up the steep bank. But it was nice cool water, and besides it could not find any fresh place on us to

At the Green River station we had breakfasthot biscuits, fresh antelope steaks, and coffeethe only

decent meal we tasted between the United States and Great Salt Lake City, and the only one we were ever

Think of the monotonous execrableness of the thirty that went before it, to leave this one simple breakfast

At five P.M. we reached Fort Bridger, one hundred and seventeen miles from the South Pass, and one

thousand and twentyfive miles from St. Joseph. Fiftytwo miles further on, near the head of Echo Canyon,

we met sixty United States soldiers from Camp Floyd. The day before, they had fired upon three hundred or

four hundred Indians, whom they supposed gathered together for no good purpose. In the fight that had

ensued, four Indians were captured, and the main body chased four miles, but nobody killed. This looked like

business. We had a notion to get out and join the sixty soldiers, but upon reflecting that there were four

Echo Canyon is twenty miles long. It was like a long, smooth, narrow street, with a gradual descending grade,

and shut in by enormous perpendicular walls of coarse conglomerate, four hundred feet high in many places,

and turreted like mediaeval castles. This was the most faultless piece of road in the mountains, and the driver

said he would "let his team out." He did, and if the Pacific express trains whiz through there now any faster

than we did then in the stagecoach, I envy the passengers the exhilaration of it. We fairly seemed to pick up

our wheels and flyand the mail matter was lifted up free from everything and held in solution! I am not

However, time presses. At four in the afternoon we arrived on the summit of Big Mountain, fifteen miles

from Salt Lake City, when all the world was glorified with the setting sun, and the most stupendous

panorama of mountain peaks yet encountered burst on our sight. We looked out upon this sublime spectacle

from under the arch of a brilliant rainbow! Even the overland stagedriver stopped his horses and gazed!

Half an hour or an hour later, we changed horses, and took supper with a Mormon "Destroying Angel."

"Destroying Angels," as I understand it, are LatterDay Saints who are set apart by the Church to conduct

permanent disappearances of obnoxious citizens. I had heard a deal about these Mormon Destroying Angels

and the dark and bloody deeds they had done, and when I entered this one's house I had my shudder all ready.

But alas for all our romances, he was nothing but a loud, profane, offensive, old blackguard! He was

murderous enough, possibly, to fill the bill of a Destroyer, but would you have any kind of an Angel devoid

of dignity? Could you abide an Angel in an unclean shirt and no suspenders? Could you respect an Angel

There were other blackguards presentcomrades of this one. And there was one person that looked like a

gentlemanHeber C. Kimball's son, tall and well made, and thirty years old, perhaps. A lot of slatternly

women flitted hither and thither in a hurry, with coffeepots, plates of bread, and other appurtenances to

supper, and these were said to be the wives of the Angelor some of them, at least. And of course they

were; for if they had been hired "help" they would not have let an angel from above storm and swear at them

This was our first experience of the western "peculiar institution," and it was not very prepossessing. We did

not tarry long to observe it, but hurried on to the home of the LatterDay Saints, the stronghold of the

prophets, the capital of the only absolute monarch in AmericaGreat Salt Lake City. As the night closed in

We had a fine supper, of the freshest meats and fowls and vegetablesa great variety and as great

abundance. We walked about the streets some, afterward, and glanced in at shops and stores; and there was

fascination in surreptitiously staring at every creature we took to be a Mormon. This was fairyland to us, to

all intents and purposesa land of enchantment, and goblins, and awful mystery. We felt a curiosity to ask

every child how many mothers it had, and if it could tell them apart; and we experienced a thrill every time a

dwellinghouse door opened and shut as we passed, disclosing a glimpse of human heads and backs and

shouldersfor we so longed to have a good satisfying look at a Mormon family in all its comprehensive

By and by the Acting Governor of the Territory introduced us to other "Gentiles," and we spent a sociable

hour with them. "Gentiles" are people who are not Mormons. Our fellowpassenger, Bemis, took care of

himself, during this part of the evening, and did not make an overpowering success of it, either, for he came

into our room in the hotel about eleven o'clock, full of cheerfulness, and talking loosely, disjointedly and

indiscriminately, and every now and then tugging out a ragged word by the roots that had more hiccups than

syllables in it. This, together with his hanging his coat on the floor on one side of a chair, and his vest on the

floor on the other side, and piling his pants on the floor just in front of the same chair, and then

comtemplating the general result with superstitious awe, and finally pronouncing it "too many for him" and

going to bed with his boots on, led us to fear that something he had eaten had not agreed with him.

But we knew afterward that it was something he had been drinking. It was the exclusively Mormon refresher,

Valley tan (or, at least, one form of valley tan) is a kind of whisky, or first cousin to it; is of Mormon

invention and manufactured only in Utah. Tradition says it is made of (imported) fire and brimstone. If I

remember rightly no public drinking saloons were allowed in the kingdom by Brigham Young, and no private

drinking permitted among the faithful, except they confined themselves to "valley tan."

Next day we strolled about everywhere through the broad, straight, level streets, and enjoyed the pleasant

strangeness of a city of fifteen thousand inhabitants with no loafers perceptible in it; and no visible drunkards

or noisy people; a limpid stream rippling and dancing through every street in place of a filthy gutter; block

after block of trim dwellings, built of "frame" and sunburned bricka great thriving orchard and garden

behind every one of them, apparentlybranches from the street stream winding and sparkling among the

garden beds and fruit treesand a grand general air of neatness, repair, thrift and comfort, around and about

and over the whole. And everywhere were workshops, factories, and all manner of industries; and intent faces

and busy hands were to be seen wherever one looked; and in one's ears was the ceaseless clink of hammers,

The armorial crest of my own State consisted of two dissolute bears holding up the head of a dead and gone

cask between them and making the pertinent remark, "UNITED, WE STAND(hic!)DIVIDED, WE

FALL." It was always too figurative for the author of this book. But the Mormon crest was easy. And it was

simple, unostentatious, and fitted like a glove. It was a representation of a GOLDEN BEEHIVE, with the

The city lies in the edge of a level plain as broad as the State of Connecticut, and crouches close down to the

ground under a curving wall of mighty mountains whose heads are hidden in the clouds, and whose shoulders

Seen from one of these dizzy heights, twelve or fifteen miles off, Great Salt Lake City is toned down and

diminished till it is suggestive of a child's toyvillage reposing under the majestic protection of the Chinese

On some of those mountains, to the southwest, it had been raining every day for two weeks, but not a drop

had fallen in the city. And on hot days in late spring and early autumn the citizens could quit fanning and

growling and go out and cool off by looking at the luxury of a glorious snowstorm going on in the

mountains. They could enjoy it at a distance, at those seasons, every day, though no snow would fall in their

They declared there was only one physician in the place and he was arrested every week regularly and held to

answer under the vagrant act for having "no visible means of support." They always give you a good

substantial article of truth in Salt Lake, and good measure and good weight, too. [Very often, if you wished to

weigh one of their airiest little commonplace statements you would want the hay scales.]

We desired to visit the famous inland sea, the American "Dead Sea," the great Salt Lakeseventeen miles,

horseback, from the cityfor we had dreamed about it, and thought about it, and talked about it, and yearned

to see it, all the first part of our trip; but now when it was only arm's length away it had suddenly lost nearly

every bit of its interest. And so we put it off, in a sort of general way, till next dayand that was the last we

ever thought of it. We dined with some hospitable Gentiles; and visited the foundation of the prodigious

temple; and talked long with that shrewd Connecticut Yankee, Heber C. Kimball (since deceased), a saint of

We saw the "TithingHouse," and the "Lion House," and I do not know or remember how many more church

and government buildings of various kinds and curious names. We flitted hither and thither and enjoyed

every hour, and picked up a great deal of useful information and entertaining nonsense, and went to bed at

The second day, we made the acquaintance of Mr. Street (since deceased) and put on white shirts and went

and paid a state visit to the king. He seemed a quiet, kindly, easymannered, dignified, selfpossessed old

gentleman of fiftyfive or sixty, and had a gentle craft in his eye that probably belonged there. He was very

simply dressed and was just taking off a straw hat as we entered. He talked about Utah, and the Indians, and

Nevada, and general American matters and questions, with our secretary and certain government officials

who came with us. But he never paid any attention to me, notwithstanding I made several attempts to "draw

him out" on federal politics and his high handed attitude toward Congress. I thought some of the things I said

were rather fine. But he merely looked around at me, at distant intervals, something as I have seen a

By and by I subsided into an indignant silence, and so sat until the end, hot and flushed, and execrating him

in my heart for an ignorant savage. But he was calm. His conversation with those gentlemen flowed on as

sweetly and peacefully and musically as any summer brook. When the audience was ended and we were

retiring from the presence, he put his hand on my head, beamed down on me in an admiring way and said to

Mr. Street was very busy with his telegraphic mattersand considering that he had eight or nine hundred

miles of rugged, snowy, uninhabited mountains, and waterless, treeless, melancholy deserts to traverse with

his wire, it was natural and needful that he should be as busy as possible. He could not go comfortably along

and cut his poles by the roadside, either, but they had to be hauled by ox teams across those exhausting

desertsand it was two days' journey from water to water, in one or two of them. Mr. Street's contract was a

vast work, every way one looked at it; and yet to comprehend what the vague words "eight hundred miles of

rugged mountains and dismal deserts" mean, one must go over the ground in personpen and ink

descriptions cannot convey the dreary reality to the reader. And after all, Mr. S.'s mightiest difficulty turned

out to be one which he had never taken into the account at all. Unto Mormons he had sublet the hardest and

heaviest half of his great undertaking, and all of a sudden they concluded that they were going to make little

or nothing, and so they tranquilly threw their poles overboard in mountain or desert, just as it happened when

they took the notion, and drove home and went about their customary business! They were under written

contract to Mr. Street, but they did not care anything for that. They said they would "admire" to see a

"Gentile" force a Mormon to fulfil a losing contract in Utah! And they made themselves very merry over the

"I was in dismay. I was under heavy bonds to complete my contract in a given time, and this disaster looked

very much like ruin. It was an astounding thing; it was such a wholly unlookedfor difficulty, that I was

entirely nonplussed. I am a business manhave always been a business mando not know anything but

businessand so you can imagine how like being struck by lightning it was to find myself in a country

where written contracts were worthless!that main security, that sheet anchor, that absolute necessity, of

business. My confidence left me. There was no use in making new contractsthat was plain. I talked with

first one prominent citizen and then another. They all sympathized with me, first rate, but they did not know

how to help me. But at last a Gentile said, 'Go to Brigham Young!these small fry cannot do you any good.'

I did not think much of the idea, for if the law could not help me, what could an individual do who had not

even anything to do with either making the laws or executing them? He might be a very good patriarch of a

church and preacher in its tabernacle, but something sterner than religion and moral suasion was needed to

handle a hundred refractory, halfcivilized subcontractors. But what was a man to do? I thought if Mr.

Young could not do anything else, he might probably be able to give me some advice and a valuable hint or

two, and so I went straight to him and laid the whole case before him. He said very little, but he showed

strong interest all the way through. He examined all the papers in detail, and whenever there seemed anything

like a hitch, either in the papers or my statement, he would go back and take up the thread and follow it

patiently out to an intelligent and satisfactory result. Then he made a list of the contractors' names. Finally he

"'Mr. Street, this is all perfectly plain. These contracts are strictly and legally drawn, and are duly signed and

certified. These men manifestly entered into them with their eyes open. I see no fault or flaw anywhere.'

"Then Mr. Young turned to a man waiting at the other end of the room and said: 'Take this list of names to

"They were there, to the minute. So was I. Mr. Young asked them a number of questions, and their answers

"'You signed these contracts and assumed these obligations of your own free will and accord?'

"And they did go, too! They are strung across the deserts now, working like bees. And I never hear a word

There is a batch of governors, and judges, and other officials here, shipped from Washington, and they

maintain the semblance of a republican form of governmentbut the petrified truth is that Utah is an

Mr. Street was a fine man, and I believe his story. I knew him well during several years afterward in San

Our stay in Salt Lake City amounted to only two days, and therefore we had no time to make the customary

inquisition into the workings of polygamy and get up the usual statistics and deductions preparatory to calling

I had the will to do it. With the gushing selfsufficiency of youth I was feverish to plunge in headlong and

achieve a great reform hereuntil I saw the Mormon women. Then I was touched. My heart was wiser than

my head. It warmed toward these poor, ungainly and pathetically "homely" creatures, and as I turned to hide

the generous moisture in my eyes, I said, "Nothe man that marries one of them has done an act of Christian

charity which entitles him to the kindly applause of mankind, not their harsh censureand the man that

marries sixty of them has done a deed of openhanded generosity so sublime that the nations should stand

It is a luscious country for thrilling evening stories about assassinations of intractable Gentiles. I cannot

easily conceive of anything more cosy than the night in Salt Lake which we spent in a Gentile den, smoking

pipes and listening to tales of how Burton galloped in among the pleading and defenceless "Morisites" and

shot them down, men and women, like so many dogs. And how Bill Hickman, a Destroying Angel, shot

Drown and Arnold dead for bringing suit against him for a debt. And how Porter Rockwell did this and that

dreadful thing. And how heedless people often come to Utah and make remarks about Brigham, or polygamy,

or some other sacred matter, and the very next morning at daylight such parties are sure to be found lying up

And the next most interesting thing is to sit and listen to these Gentiles talk about polygamy; and how some

portly old frog of an elder, or a bishop, marries a girllikes her, marries her sisterlikes her, marries

another sisterlikes her, takes anotherlikes her, marries her motherlikes her, marries her father,

grandfather, great grandfather, and then comes back hungry and asks for more. And how the pert young thing

of eleven will chance to be the favorite wife and her own venerable grandmother have to rank away down

toward D 4 in their mutual husband's esteem, and have to sleep in the kitchen, as like as not. And how this

dreadful sort of thing, this hiving together in one foul nest of mother and daughters, and the making a young

daughter superior to her own mother in rank and authority, are things which Mormon women submit to

because their religion teaches them that the more wives a man has on earth, and the more children he rears,

the higher the place they will all have in the world to comeand the warmer, maybe, though they do not

According to these Gentile friends of ours, Brigham Young's harem contains twenty or thirty wives. They

said that some of them had grown old and gone out of active service, but were comfortably housed and cared

for in the heneryor the Lion House, as it is strangely named. Along with each wife were her

childrenfifty altogether. The house was perfectly quiet and orderly, when the children were still. They all

took their meals in one room, and a happy and homelike sight it was pronounced to be. None of our party

got an opportunity to take dinner with Mr. Young, but a Gentile by the name of Johnson professed to have

enjoyed a sociable breakfast in the Lion House. He gave a preposterous account of the "calling of the roll,"

and other preliminaries, and the carnage that ensued when the buckwheat cakes came in. But he embellished

rather too much. He said that Mr. Young told him several smart sayings of certain of his "twoyearolds,"

observing with some pride that for many years he had been the heaviest contributor in that line to one of the

Eastern magazines; and then he wanted to show Mr. Johnson one of the pets that had said the last good thing,

He searched the faces of the children in detail, but could not decide which one it was. Finally he gave it up

"I thought I would know the little cub again but I don't." Mr. Johnson said further, that Mr. Young observed

that life was a sad, sad thing "because the joy of every new marriage a man contracted was so apt to be

blighted by the inopportune funeral of a less recent bride." And Mr. Johnson said that while he and Mr.

Young were pleasantly conversing in private, one of the Mrs. Youngs came in and demanded a breastpin,

remarking that she had found out that he had been giving a breastpin to No. 6, and she, for one, did not

propose to let this partiality go on without making a satisfactory amount of trouble about it. Mr. Young

reminded her that there was a stranger present. Mrs. Young said that if the state of things inside the house

was not agreeable to the stranger, he could find room outside. Mr. Young promised the breastpin, and she

went away. But in a minute or two another Mrs. Young came in and demanded a breastpin. Mr. Young

began a remonstrance, but Mrs. Young cut him short. She said No. 6 had got one, and No. 11 was promised

one, and it was "no use for him to try to impose on hershe hoped she knew her rights." He gave his

promise, and she went. And presently three Mrs. Youngs entered in a body and opened on their husband a

tempest of tears, abuse, and entreaty. They had heard all about No. 6, No. 11, and No. 14. Three more

breastpins were promised. They were hardly gone when nine more Mrs. Youngs filed into the presence, and

a new tempest burst forth and raged round about the prophet and his guest. Nine breastpins were promised,

and the weird sisters filed out again. And in came eleven more, weeping and wailing and gnashing their teeth.

"That is a specimen," said Mr. Young. "You see how it is. You see what a life I lead. A man can't be wise all

the time. In a heedless moment I gave my darling No. 6excuse my calling her thus, as her other name has

escaped me for the momenta breastpin. It was only worth twentyfive dollarsthat is, apparently that

was its whole costbut its ultimate cost was inevitably bound to be a good deal more. You yourself have

seen it climb up to six hundred and fifty dollarsand alas, even that is not the end! For I have wives all over

this Territory of Utah. I have dozens of wives whose numbers, even, I do not know without looking in the

family Bible. They are scattered far and wide among the mountains and valleys of my realm. And mark you,

every solitary one of them will hear of this wretched breast pin, and every last one of them will have one or

die. No. 6's breast pin will cost me twentyfive hundred dollars before I see the end of it. And these creatures

will compare these pins together, and if one is a shade finer than the rest, they will all be thrown on my

hands, and I will have to order a new lot to keep peace in the family. Sir, you probably did not know it, but all

the time you were present with my children your every movement was watched by vigilant servitors of mine.

If you had offered to give a child a dime, or a stick of candy, or any trifle of the kind, you would have been

snatched out of the house instantly, provided it could be done before your gift left your hand. Otherwise it

would be absolutely necessary for you to make an exactly similar gift to all my childrenand knowing by

experience the importance of the thing, I would have stood by and seen to it myself that you did it, and did it

thoroughly. Once a gentleman gave one of my children a tin whistlea veritable invention of Satan, sir, and

one which I have an unspeakable horror of, and so would you if you had eighty or ninety children in your

house. But the deed was donethe man escaped. I knew what the result was going to be, and I thirsted for

vengeance. I ordered out a flock of Destroying Angels, and they hunted the man far into the fastnesses of the

Nevada mountains. But they never caught him. I am not cruel, sirI am not vindictive except when sorely

outragedbut if I had caught him, sir, so help me Joseph Smith, I would have locked him into the nursery

till the brats whistled him to death. By the slaughtered body of St. Parley Pratt (whom God assail!) there was

never anything on this earth like it! I knew who gave the whistle to the child, but I could, not make those

jealous mothers believe me. They believed I did it, and the result was just what any man of reflection could

have foreseen: I had to order a hundred and ten whistlesI think we had a hundred and ten children in the

house then, but some of them are off at college nowI had to order a hundred and ten of those shrieking

things, and I wish I may never speak another word if we didn't have to talk on our fingers entirely, from that

time forth until the children got tired of the whistles. And if ever another man gives a whistle to a child of

mine and I get my hands on him, I will hang him higher than Haman! That is the word with the bark on it!

Shade of Nephi! You don't know anything about married life. I am rich, and everybody knows it. I am

benevolent, and everybody takes advantage of it. I have a strong fatherly instinct and all the foundlings are

Every time a woman wants to do well by her darling, she puzzles her brain to cipher out some scheme for

getting it into my hands. Why, sir, a woman came here once with a child of a curious lifeless sort of

complexion (and so had the woman), and swore that the child was mine and she my wifethat I had married

her at suchandsuch a time in suchand such a place, but she had forgotten her number, and of course I

could not remember her name. Well, sir, she called my attention to the fact that the child looked like me, and

really it did seem to resemble mea common thing in the Territoryand, to cut the story short, I put it in

my nursery, and she left. And by the ghost of Orson Hyde, when they came to wash the paint off that child it

was an Injun! Bless my soul, you don't know anything about married life. It is a perfect dog's life, sira

perfect dog's life. You can't economize. It isn't possible. I have tried keeping one set of bridal attire for all

occasions. But it is of no use. First you'll marry a combination of calico and consumption that's as thin as a

rail, and next you'll get a creature that's nothing more than the dropsy in disguise, and then you've got to eke

out that bridal dress with an old balloon. That is the way it goes. And think of the washbill(excuse these

tears)nine hundred and eightyfour pieces a week! No, sir, there is no such a thing as economy in a family

like mine. Why, just the one item of cradlesthink of it! And vermifuge! Soothing syrup! Teething rings!

And 'papa's watches' for the babies to play with! And things to scratch the furniture with! And lucifer

matches for them to eat, and pieces of glass to cut themselves with! The item of glass alone would support

your family, I venture to say, sir. Let me scrimp and squeeze all I can, I still can't get ahead as fast as I feel I

ought to, with my opportunities. Bless you, sir, at a time when I had seventytwo wives in this house, I

groaned under the pressure of keeping thousands of dollars tied up in seventytwo bedsteads when the money

ought to have been out at interest; and I just sold out the whole stock, sir, at a sacrifice, and built a bedstead

seven feet long and ninetysix feet wide. But it was a failure, sir. I could not sleep. It appeared to me that the

whole seventytwo women snored at once. The roar was deafening. And then the danger of it! That was what

I was looking at. They would all draw in their breath at once, and you could actually see the walls of the

house suck inand then they would all exhale their breath at once, and you could see the walls swell out,

and strain, and hear the rafters crack, and the shingles grind together. My friend, take an old man's advice,

and don't encumber yourself with a large familymind, I tell you, don't do it. In a small family, and in a

small family only, you will find that comfort and that peace of mind which are the best at last of the blessings

this world is able to afford us, and for the lack of which no accumulation of wealth, and no acquisition of

fame, power, and greatness can ever compensate us. Take my word for it, ten or eleven wives is all you

Some instinct or other made me set this Johnson down as being unreliable. And yet he was a very

entertaining person, and I doubt if some of the information he gave us could have been acquired from any

All men have heard of the Mormon Bible, but few except the "elect" have seen it, or, at least, taken the

trouble to read it. I brought away a copy from Salt Lake. The book is a curiosity to me, it is such a pretentious

affair, and yet so "slow," so sleepy; such an insipid mess of inspiration. It is chloroform in print. If Joseph

Smith composed this book, the act was a miraclekeeping awake while he did it was, at any rate. If he,

according to tradition, merely translated it from certain ancient and mysteriouslyengraved plates of copper,

which he declares he found under a stone, in an outoftheway locality, the work of translating was equally

The book seems to be merely a prosy detail of imaginary history, with the Old Testament for a model;

followed by a tedious plagiarism of the New Testament. The author labored to give his words and phrases the

quaint, oldfashioned sound and structure of our King James's translation of the Scriptures; and the result is a

mongrelhalf modern glibness, and half ancient simplicity and gravity. The latter is awkward and

constrained; the former natural, but grotesque by the contrast. Whenever he found his speech growing too

modernwhich was about every sentence or twohe ladled in a few such Scriptural phrases as "exceeding

sore," "and it came to pass," etc., and made things satisfactory again. "And it came to pass" was his pet. If he

"Hid up" is good. And so is "wherefore"though why "wherefore"? Any other word would have answered

Some people have to have a world of evidence before they can come anywhere in the neighborhood of

believing anything; but for me, when a man tells me that he has "seen the engravings which are upon the

plates," and not only that, but an angel was there at the time, and saw him see them, and probably took his

receipt for it, I am very far on the road to conviction, no matter whether I ever heard of that man before or

not, and even if I do not know the name of the angel, or his nationality either.

And when I am far on the road to conviction, and eight men, be they grammatical or otherwise, come forward

and tell me that they have seen the plates too; and not only seen those plates but "hefted" them, I am

convinced. I could not feel more satisfied and at rest if the entire Whitmer family had testified.

The Mormon Bible consists of fifteen "books"being the books of Jacob, Enos, Jarom, Omni, Mosiah,

Zeniff, Alma, Helaman, Ether, Moroni, two "books" of Mormon, and three of Nephi.

In the first book of Nephi is a plagiarism of the Old Testament, which gives an account of the exodus from

Jerusalem of the "children of Lehi"; and it goes on to tell of their wanderings in the wilderness, during eight

years, and their supernatural protection by one of their number, a party by the name of Nephi. They finally

reached the land of "Bountiful," and camped by the sea. After they had remained there "for the space of many

days"which is more Scriptural than definiteNephi was commanded from on high to build a ship wherein

to "carry the people across the waters." He travestied Noah's arkbut he obeyed orders in the matter of the

plan. He finished the ship in a single day, while his brethren stood by and made fun of itand of him,

too"saying, our brother is a fool, for he thinketh that he can build a ship." They did not wait for the timbers

to dry, but the whole tribe or nation sailed the next day. Then a bit of genuine nature cropped out, and is

revealed by outspoken Nephi with Scriptural franknessthey all got on a spree! They, "and also their wives,

began to make themselves merry, insomuch that they began to dance, and to sing, and to speak with much

Nephi tried to stop these scandalous proceedings; but they tied him neck and heels, and went on with their

lark. But observe how Nephi the prophet circumvented them by the aid of the invisible powers:

Equipped with their compass, these ancients appear to have had the advantage of Noah.

Their voyage was toward a "promised land"the only name they give it. They reached it in safety.

Polygamy is a recent feature in the Mormon religion, and was added by Brigham Young after Joseph Smith's

death. Before that, it was regarded as an "abomination." This verse from the Mormon Bible occurs in Chapter

However, the project failedor at least the modern Mormon end of itfor Brigham "suffers" it. This verse

The following verse (from Chapter IX. of the Book of Nephi) appears to contain information not familiar to

In order that the reader may observe how much more grandeur and picturesqueness (as seen by these

Mormon twelve) accompanied on of the tenderest episodes in the life of our Saviour than other eyes seem to

The Book of Ether is an incomprehensible medley of if "history," much of it relating to battles and sieges

among peoples whom the reader has possibly never heard of; and who inhabited a country which is not set

down in the geography. These was a King with the remarkable name of Coriantumr,^^ and he warred with

Shared, and Lib, and Shiz, and others, in the "plains of Heshlon"; and the "valley of Gilgal"; and the

"wilderness of Akish"; and the "land of Moran"; and the "plains of Agosh"; and "Ogath," and "Ramah," and

the "land of Corihor," and the "hill Comnor," by "the waters of Ripliancum," etc., etc., etc. "And it came to

pass," after a deal of fighting, that Coriantumr, upon making calculation of his losses, found that "there had

been slain two millions of mighty men, and also their wives and their children"say 5,000,000 or 6,000,000

in all"and he began to sorrow in his heart." Unquestionably it was time. So he wrote to Shiz, asking a

cessation of hostilities, and offering to give up his kingdom to save his people. Shiz declined, except upon

condition that Coriantumr would come and let him cut his head off firsta thing which Coriantumr would

not do. Then there was more fighting for a season; then four years were devoted to gathering the forces for a

final struggleafter which ensued a battle, which, I take it, is the most remarkable set forth in

history,except, perhaps, that of the Kilkenny cats, which it resembles in some respects. This is the account

It seems a pity he did not finish, for after all his dreary former chapters of commonplace, he stopped just as

The Mormon Bible is rather stupid and tiresome to read, but there is nothing vicious in its teachings. Its code

of morals is unobjectionable it is "smouched" [Milton] from the New Testament and no credit given.

At the end of our two days' sojourn, we left Great Salt Lake City hearty and well fed and happyphysically

superb but not so very much wiser, as regards the "Mormon question," than we were when we arrived,

perhaps. We had a deal more "information" than we had before, of course, but we did not know what portion

of it was reliable and what was notfor it all came from acquaintances of a daystrangers, strictly

speaking. We were told, for instance, that the dreadful "Mountain Meadows Massacre" was the work of the

Indians entirely, and that the Gentiles had meanly tried to fasten it upon the Mormons; we were told,

likewise, that the Indians were to blame, partly, and partly the Mormons; and we were told, likewise, and just

as positively, that the Mormons were almost if not wholly and completely responsible for that most

treacherous and pitiless butchery. We got the story in all these different shapes, but it was not till several

years afterward that Mrs. Waite's book, "The Mormon Prophet," came out with Judge Cradlebaugh's trial of

the accused parties in it and revealed the truth that the latter version was the correct one and that the

Mormons were the assassins. All our "information" had three sides to it, and so I gave up the idea that I could

settle the "Mormon question" in two days. Still I have seen newspaper correspondents do it in one.

I left Great Salt Lake a good deal confused as to what state of things existed thereand sometimes even

questioning in my own mind whether a state of things existed there at all or not. But presently I remembered

with a lightening sense of relief that we had learned two or three trivial things there which we could be

certain of; and so the two days were not wholly lost. For instance, we had learned that we were at last in a

The high prices charged for trifles were eloquent of high freights and bewildering distances of freightage. In

the east, in those days, the smallest moneyed denomination was a penny and it represented the smallest

purchasable quantity of any commodity. West of Cincinnati the smallest coin in use was the silver fivecent

piece and no smaller quantity of an article could be bought than "five cents' worth." In Overland City the

lowest coin appeared to be the tencent piece; but in Salt Lake there did not seem to be any money in

circulation smaller than a quarter, or any smaller quantity purchasable of any commodity than twentyfive

cents' worth. We had always been used to half dimes and "five cents' worth" as the minimum of financial

negotiations; but in Salt Lake if one wanted a cigar, it was a quarter; if he wanted a chalk pipe, it was a

quarter; if he wanted a peach, or a candle, or a newspaper, or a shave, or a little Gentile whiskey to rub on his

corns to arrest indigestion and keep him from having the toothache, twentyfive cents was the price, every

time. When we looked at the shotbag of silver, now and then, we seemed to be wasting our substance in

riotous living, but if we referred to the expense account we could see that we had not been doing anything of

But people easily get reconciled to big money and big prices, and fond and vain of bothit is a descent to

little coins and cheap prices that is hardest to bear and slowest to take hold upon one's toleration. After a

month's acquaintance with the twentyfive cent minimum, the average human being is ready to blush every

time he thinks of his despicable fivecent days. How sunburnt with blushes I used to get in gaudy Nevada,

every time I thought of my first financial experience in Salt Lake. It was on this wise (which is a favorite

expression of great authors, and a very neat one, too, but I never hear anybody say on this wise when they are

talking). A young halfbreed with a complexion like a yellowjacket asked me if I would have my boots

blacked. It was at the Salt Lake House the morning after we arrived. I said yes, and he blacked them. Then I

handed him a silver fivecent piece, with the benevolent air of a person who is conferring wealth and

blessedness upon poverty and suffering. The yellowjacket took it with what I judged to be suppressed

emotion, and laid it reverently down in the middle of his broad hand. Then he began to contemplate it, much

as a philosopher contemplates a gnat's ear in the ample field of his microscope. Several mountaineers,

teamsters, stage drivers, etc., drew near and dropped into the tableau and fell to surveying the money with

that attractive indifference to formality which is noticeable in the hardy pioneer. Presently the yellowjacket

handed the half dime back to me and told me I ought to keep my money in my pocketbook instead of in my

What a roar of vulgar laughter there was! I destroyed the mongrel reptile on the spot, but I smiled and smiled

all the time I was detaching his scalp, for the remark he made was good for an "Injun."

Yes, we had learned in Salt Lake to be charged great prices without letting the inward shudder appear on the

surfacefor even already we had overheard and noted the tenor of conversations among drivers, conductors,

and hostlers, and finally among citizens of Salt Lake, until we were well aware that these superior beings

despised "emigrants." We permitted no telltale shudders and winces in our countenances, for we wanted to

seem pioneers, or Mormons, halfbreeds, teamsters, stagedrivers, Mountain Meadow assassinsanything

in the world that the plains and Utah respected and admiredbut we were wretchedly ashamed of being

"emigrants," and sorry enough that we had white shirts and could not swear in the presence of ladies without

And many a time in Nevada, afterwards, we had occasion to remember with humiliation that we were

"emigrants," and consequently a low and inferior sort of creatures. Perhaps the reader has visited Utah,

Nevada, or California, even in these latter days, and while communing with himself upon the sorrowful

banishment of these countries from what he considers "the world," has had his wings clipped by finding that

he is the one to be pitied, and that there are entire populations around him ready and willing to do it for

himyea, who are complacently doing it for him already, wherever he steps his foot.

Poor thing, they are making fun of his hat; and the cut of his New York coat; and his conscientiousness about

his grammar; and his feeble profanity; and his consumingly ludicrous ignorance of ores, shafts, tunnels, and

other things which he never saw before, and never felt enough interest in to read about. And all the time that

he is thinking what a sad fate it is to be exiled to that far country, that lonely land, the citizens around him are

looking down on him with a blighting compassion because he is an "emigrant" instead of that proudest and

The accustomed coach life began again, now, and by midnight it almost seemed as if we never had been out

of our snuggery among the mail sacks at all. We had made one alteration, however. We had provided enough

bread, boiled ham and hard boiled eggs to last double the six hundred miles of staging we had still to do.

And it was comfort in those succeeding days to sit up and contemplate the majestic panorama of mountains

and valleys spread out below us and eat ham and hard boiled eggs while our spiritual natures revelled

alternately in rainbows, thunderstorms, and peerless sunsets. Nothing helps scenery like ham and eggs. Ham

and eggs, and after these a pipean old, rank, delicious pipeham and eggs and scenery, a "down grade," a

flying coach, a fragrant pipe and a contented heartthese make happiness. It is what all the ages have

At eight in the morning we reached the remnant and ruin of what had been the important military station of

"Camp Floyd," some fortyfive or fifty miles from Salt Lake City. At four P.M. we had doubled our distance

and were ninety or a hundred miles from Salt Lake. And now we entered upon one of that species of deserts

whose concentrated hideousness shames the diffused and diluted horrors of Saharaan "alkali" desert. For

sixty eight miles there was but one break in it. I do not remember that this was really a break; indeed it

seems to me that it was nothing but a watering depot in the midst of the stretch of sixtyeight miles. If my

memory serves me, there was no well or spring at this place, but the water was hauled there by mule and ox

teams from the further side of the desert. There was a stage station there. It was fortyfive miles from the

We plowed and dragged and groped along, the whole livelong night, and at the end of this uncomfortable

twelve hours we finished the fortyfive mile part of the desert and got to the stage station where the

imported water was. The sun was just rising. It was easy enough to cross a desert in the night while we were

asleep; and it was pleasant to reflect, in the morning, that we in actual person had encountered an absolute

desert and could always speak knowingly of deserts in presence of the ignorant thenceforward. And it was

pleasant also to reflect that this was not an obscure, back country desert, but a very celebrated one, the

metropolis itself, as you may say. All this was very well and very comfortable and satisfactorybut now we

were to cross a desert in daylight. This was finenovelromanticdramatically adventurous this,

indeed, was worth living for, worth traveling for! We would write home all about it.

This enthusiasm, this stern thirst for adventure, wilted under the sultry August sun and did not last above one

hour. One poor little hourand then we were ashamed that we had "gushed" so. The poetry was all in the

anticipationthere is none in the reality. Imagine a vast, waveless ocean stricken dead and turned to ashes;

imagine this solemn waste tufted with ashdusted sagebushes; imagine the lifeless silence and solitude that

belong to such a place; imagine a coach, creeping like a bug through the midst of this shoreless level, and

sending up tumbled volumes of dust as if it were a bug that went by steam; imagine this aching monotony of

toiling and plowing kept up hour after hour, and the shore still as far away as ever, apparently; imagine team,

driver, coach and passengers so deeply coated with ashes that they are all one colorless color; imagine

ashdrifts roosting above moustaches and eyebrows like snow accumulations on boughs and bushes. This is

The sun beats down with dead, blistering, relentless malignity; the perspiration is welling from every pore in

man and beast, but scarcely a sign of it finds its way to the surfaceit is absorbed before it gets there; there

is not the faintest breath of air stirring; there is not a merciful shred of cloud in all the brilliant firmament;

there is not a living creature visible in any direction whither one searches the blank level that stretches its

monotonous miles on every hand; there is not a soundnot a sighnot a whispernot a buzz, or a whir of

wings, or distant pipe of birdnot even a sob from the lost souls that doubtless people that dead air. And so

the occasional sneezing of the resting mules, and the champing of the bits, grate harshly on the grim stillness,

not dissipating the spell but accenting it and making one feel more lonesome and forsaken than before.

The mules, under violent swearing, coaxing and whipcracking, would make at stated intervals a "spurt," and

drag the coach a hundred or may be two hundred yards, stirring up a billowy cloud of dust that rolled back,

enveloping the vehicle to the wheeltops or higher, and making it seem afloat in a fog. Then a rest followed,

with the usual sneezing and bit champing. Then another "spurt" of a hundred yards and another rest at the

end of it. All day long we kept this up, without water for the mules and without ever changing the team. At

least we kept it up ten hours, which, I take it, is a day, and a pretty honest one, in an alkali desert. It was from

four in the morning till two in the afternoon. And it was so hot! and so close! and our water canteens went dry

in the middle of the day and we got so thirsty! It was so stupid and tiresome and dull! and the tedious hours

did lag and drag and limp along with such a cruel deliberation! It was so trying to give one's watch a good

long undisturbed spell and then take it out and find that it had been fooling away the time and not trying to

get ahead any! The alkali dust cut through our lips, it persecuted our eyes, it ate through the delicate

membranes and made our noses bleed and kept them bleedingand truly and seriously the romance all faded

far away and disappeared, and left the desert trip nothing but a harsh realitya thirsty, sweltering, longing,

Two miles and a quarter an hour for ten hoursthat was what we accomplished. It was hard to bring the

comprehension away down to such a snailpace as that, when we had been used to making eight and ten

miles an hour. When we reached the station on the farther verge of the desert, we were glad, for the first time,

that the dictionary was along, because we never could have found language to tell how glad we were, in any

sort of dictionary but an unabridged one with pictures in it. But there could not have been found in a whole

library of dictionaries language sufficient to tell how tired those mules were after their twentythree mile

pull. To try to give the reader an idea of how thirsty they were, would be to "gild refined gold or paint the

Somehow, now that it is there, the quotation does not seem to fitbut no matter, let it stay, anyhow. I think it

is a graceful and attractive thing, and therefore have tried time and time again to work it in where it would fit,

but could not succeed. These efforts have kept my mind distracted and ill at ease, and made my narrative

seem broken and disjointed, in places. Under these circumstances it seems to me best to leave it in, as above,

since this will afford at least a temporary respite from the wear and tear of trying to "lead up" to this really

On the morning of the sixteenth day out from St. Joseph we arrived at the entrance of Rocky Canyon, two

hundred and fifty miles from Salt Lake. It was along in this wild country somewhere, and far from any

habitation of white men, except the stage stations, that we came across the wretchedest type of mankind I

have ever seen, up to this writing. I refer to the Goshoot Indians. From what we could see and all we could

learn, they are very considerably inferior to even the despised Digger Indians of California; inferior to all

races of savages on our continent; inferior to even the Terra del Fuegans; inferior to the Hottentots, and

actually inferior in some respects to the Kytches of Africa. Indeed, I have been obliged to look the bulky

volumes of Wood's "Uncivilized Races of Men" clear through in order to find a savage tribe degraded enough

to take rank with the Goshoots. I find but one people fairly open to that shameful verdict. It is the Bosjesmans

(Bushmen) of South Africa. Such of the Goshoots as we saw, along the road and hanging about the stations,

were small, lean, "scrawny" creatures; in complexion a dull black like the ordinary American negro; their

faces and hands bearing dirt which they had been hoarding and accumulating for months, years, and even

generations, according to the age of the proprietor; a silent, sneaking, treacherous looking race; taking note of

everything, covertly, like all the other "Noble Red Men" that we (do not) read about, and betraying no sign in

their countenances; indolent, everlastingly patient and tireless, like all other Indians; prideless beggarsfor

if the beggar instinct were left out of an Indian he would not "go," any more than a clock without a

pendulum; hungry, always hungry, and yet never refusing anything that a hog would eat, though often eating

what a hog would decline; hunters, but having no higher ambition than to kill and eat jackass rabbits,

crickets and grasshoppers, and embezzle carrion from the buzzards and cayotes; savages who, when asked if

they have the common Indian belief in a Great Spirit show a something which almost amounts to emotion,

thinking whiskey is referred to; a thin, scattering race of almost naked black children, these Goshoots are,

who produce nothing at all, and have no villages, and no gatherings together into strictly defined tribal

communitiesa people whose only shelter is a rag cast on a bush to keep off a portion of the snow, and yet

who inhabit one of the most rocky, wintry, repulsive wastes that our country or any other can exhibit.

The Bushmen and our Goshoots are manifestly descended from the selfsame gorilla, or kangaroo, or

One would as soon expect the rabbits to fight as the Goshoots, and yet they used to live off the offal and

refuse of the stations a few months and then come some dark night when no mischief was expected, and burn

down the buildings and kill the men from ambush as they rushed out. And once, in the night, they attacked

the stagecoach when a District Judge, of Nevada Territory, was the only passenger, and with their first

volley of arrows (and a bullet or two) they riddled the stage curtains, wounded a horse or two and mortally

wounded the driver. The latter was full of pluck, and so was his passenger. At the driver's call Judge Mott

swung himself out, clambered to the box and seized the reins of the team, and away they plunged, through the

racing mob of skeletons and under a hurtling storm of missiles. The stricken driver had sunk down on the

boot as soon as he was wounded, but had held on to the reins and said he would manage to keep hold of them

And after they were taken from his relaxing grasp, he lay with his head between Judge Mott's feet, and

tranquilly gave directions about the road; he said he believed he could live till the miscreants were outrun and

left behind, and that if he managed that, the main difficulty would be at an end, and then if the Judge drove so

and so (giving directions about bad places in the road, and general course) he would reach the next station

without trouble. The Judge distanced the enemy and at last rattled up to the station and knew that the night's

perils were done; but there was no comradeinarms for him to rejoice with, for the soldierly driver was

Let us forget that we have been saying harsh things about the Overland drivers, now. The disgust which the

Goshoots gave me, a disciple of Cooper and a worshipper of the Red Maneven of the scholarly savages in

the "Last of the Mohicans" who are fittingly associated with backwoodsmen who divide each sentence into

two equal parts: one part critically grammatical, refined and choice of language, and the other part just such

an attempt to talk like a hunter or a mountaineer, as a Broadway clerk might make after eating an edition of

Emerson Bennett's works and studying frontier life at the Bowery Theatre a couple of weeksI say that the

nausea which the Goshoots gave me, an Indian worshipper, set me to examining authorities, to see if

perchance I had been overestimating the Red Man while viewing him through the mellow moonshine of

romance. The revelations that came were disenchanting. It was curious to see how quickly the paint and tinsel

fell away from him and left him treacherous, filthy and repulsiveand how quickly the evidences

accumulated that wherever one finds an Indian tribe he has only found Goshoots more or less modified by

circumstances and surroundingsbut Goshoots, after all. They deserve pity, poor creatures; and they can

There is an impression abroad that the Baltimore and Washington Railroad Company and many of its

employees are Goshoots; but it is an error. There is only a plausible resemblance, which, while it is apt

enough to mislead the ignorant, cannot deceive parties who have contemplated both tribes. But seriously, it

was not only poor wit, but very wrong to start the report referred to above; for however innocent the motive

may have been, the necessary effect was to injure the reputation of a class who have a hard enough time of it

in the pitiless deserts of the Rocky Mountains, Heaven knows! If we cannot find it in our hearts to give those

poor naked creatures our Christian sympathy and compassion, in God's name let us at least not throw mud at

On the seventeenth day we passed the highest mountain peaks we had yet seen, and although the day was

very warm the night that followed upon its heels was wintry cold and blankets were next to useless.

On the eighteenth day we encountered the eastwardbound telegraph constructors at Reese River station

and sent a message to his Excellency Gov. Nye at Carson City (distant one hundred and fiftysix miles).

On the nineteenth day we crossed the Great American Desertforty memorable miles of bottomless sand,

into which the coach wheels sunk from six inches to a foot. We worked our passage most of the way across.

That is to say, we got out and walked. It was a dreary pull and a long and thirsty one, for we had no water.

From one extremity of this desert to the other, the road was white with the bones of oxen and horses. It would

hardly be an exaggeration to say that we could have walked the forty miles and set our feet on a bone at every

step! The desert was one prodigious graveyard. And the logchains, wagon tyres, and rotting wrecks of

vehicles were almost as thick as the bones. I think we saw logchains enough rusting there in the desert, to

reach across any State in the Union. Do not these relics suggest something of an idea of the fearful suffering

At the border of the Desert lies Carson Lake, or The "Sink" of the Carson, a shallow, melancholy sheet of

water some eighty or a hundred miles in circumference. Carson River empties into it and is lostsinks

mysteriously into the earth and never appears in the light of the sun againfor the lake has no outlet

There are several rivers in Nevada, and they all have this mysterious fate. They end in various lakes or

"sinks," and that is the last of them. Carson Lake, Humboldt Lake, Walker Lake, Mono Lake, are all great

sheets of water without any visible outlet. Water is always flowing into them; none is ever seen to flow out of

them, and yet they remain always level full, neither receding nor overflowing. What they do with their

On the western verge of the Desert we halted a moment at Ragtown. It consisted of one log house and is not

This reminds me of a circumstance. Just after we left Julesburg, on the Platte, I was sitting with the driver,

"I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this

road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to

lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off

at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of

Horace's coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk

and begged him to go easiersaid he warn't in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk

said, 'Keep your seat, Horace, and I'll get you there on time'and you bet you he did, too, what was left of

A day or two after that we picked up a Denver man at the cross roads, and he told us a good deal about the

country and the Gregory Diggings. He seemed a very entertaining person and a man well posted in the affairs

"I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this

road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to

lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off

at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of

Horace's coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk

and begged him to go easiersaid he warn't in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk

said, 'Keep your seat, Horace, and I'll get you there on time!'and you bet you he did, too, what was left of

At Fort Bridger, some days after this, we took on board a cavalry sergeant, a very proper and soldierly person

indeed. From no other man during the whole journey, did we gather such a store of concise and well

arranged military information. It was surprising to find in the desolate wilds of our country a man so

thoroughly acquainted with everything useful to know in his line of life, and yet of such inferior rank and

unpretentious bearing. For as much as three hours we listened to him with unabated interest. Finally he got

"I can tell you a very laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this

road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to

lecture at Placerville and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off

at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of

Horace's coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk

and begged him to go easiersaid he warn't in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk

said, 'Keep your seat, Horace, and I'll get you there on time!'and you bet you he did, too, what was left of

When we were eight hours out from Salt Lake City a Mormon preacher got in with us at a way stationa

gentle, softspoken, kindly man, and one whom any stranger would warm to at first sight. I can never forget

the pathos that was in his voice as he told, in simple language, the story of his people's wanderings and

unpitied sufferings. No pulpit eloquence was ever so moving and so beautiful as this outcast's picture of the

first Mormon pilgrimage across the plains, struggling sorrowfully onward to the land of its banishment and

marking its desolate way with graves and watering it with tears. His words so wrought upon us that it was a

relief to us all when the conversation drifted into a more cheerful channel and the natural features of the

curious country we were in came under treatment. One matter after another was pleasantly discussed, and at

"I can tell you a most laughable thing indeed, if you would like to listen to it. Horace Greeley went over this

road once. When he was leaving Carson City he told the driver, Hank Monk, that he had an engagement to

lecture in Placerville, and was very anxious to go through quick. Hank Monk cracked his whip and started off

at an awful pace. The coach bounced up and down in such a terrific way that it jolted the buttons all off of

Horace's coat, and finally shot his head clean through the roof of the stage, and then he yelled at Hank Monk

and begged him to go easiersaid he warn't in as much of a hurry as he was awhile ago. But Hank Monk

said, 'Keep your seat, Horace, and I'll get you there on time!'and you bet you bet you he did, too, what was

Ten miles out of Ragtown we found a poor wanderer who had lain down to die. He had walked as long as he

could, but his limbs had failed him at last. Hunger and fatigue had conquered him. It would have been

inhuman to leave him there. We paid his fare to Carson and lifted him into the coach. It was some little time

before he showed any very decided signs of life; but by dint of chafing him and pouring brandy between his

lips we finally brought him to a languid consciousness. Then we fed him a little, and by and by he seemed to

comprehend the situation and a grateful light softened his eye. We made his mailsack bed as comfortable as

possible, and constructed a pillow for him with our coats. He seemed very thankful. Then he looked up in our

"Gentlemen, I know not who you are, but you have saved my life; and although I can never be able to repay

you for it, I feel that I can at least make one hour of your long journey lighter. I take it you are strangers to

this great thorough fare, but I am entirely familiar with it. In this connection I can tell you a most laughable

"Suffering stranger, proceed at your peril. You see in me the melancholy wreck of a once stalwart and

magnificent manhood. What has brought me to this? That thing which you are about to tell. Gradually but

surely, that tiresome old anecdote has sapped my strength, undermined my constitution, withered my life.

Pity my helplessness. Spare me only just this once, and tell me about young George Washington and his little

We were saved. But not so the invalid. In trying to retain the anecdote in his system he strained himself and

I am aware, now, that I ought not to have asked of the sturdiest citizen of all that region, what I asked of that

mere shadow of a man; for, after seven years' residence on the Pacific coast, I know that no passenger or

driver on the Overland ever corked that anecdote in, when a stranger was by, and survived. Within a period of

six years I crossed and recrossed the Sierras between Nevada and California thirteen times by stage and

listened to that deathless incident four hundred and eightyone or eightytwo times. I have the list

somewhere. Drivers always told it, conductors told it, landlords told it, chance passengers told it, the very

Chinamen and vagrant Indians recounted it. I have had the same driver tell it to me two or three times in the

same afternoon. It has come to me in all the multitude of tongues that Babel bequeathed to earth, and flavored

with whiskey, brandy, beer, cologne, sozodont, tobacco, garlic, onions, grasshopperseverything that has a

fragrance to it through all the long list of things that are gorged or guzzled by the sons of men. I never have

smelt any anecdote as often as I have smelt that one; never have smelt any anecdote that smelt so variegated

as that one. And you never could learn to know it by its smell, because every time you thought you had

learned the smell of it, it would turn up with a different smell. Bayard Taylor has written about this hoary

anecdote, Richardson has published it; so have Jones, Smith, Johnson, Ross Browne, and every other

correspondenceinditing being that ever set his foot upon the great overland road anywhere between

Julesburg and San Francisco; and I have heard that it is in the Talmud. I have seen it in print in nine different

foreign languages; I have been told that it is employed in the inquisition in Rome; and I now learn with regret

Stagecoaching on the Overland is no more, and stage drivers are a race defunct. I wonder if they bequeathed

that baldheaded anecdote to their successors, the railroad brakemen and conductors, and if these latter still

persecute the helpless passenger with it until he concludes, as did many a tourist of other days, that the real

grandeurs of the Pacific coast are not Yo Semite and the Big Trees, but Hank Monk and his adventure with

Horace Greeley. [And what makes that worn anecdote the more aggravating, is, that the adventure it

celebrates never occurred. If it were a good anecdote, that seeming demerit would be its chiefest virtue, for

creative power belongs to greatness; but what ought to be done to a man who would wantonly contrive so flat

a one as this? If I were to suggest what ought to be done to him, I should be called extravagantbut what

We were approaching the end of our long journey. It was the morning of the twentieth day. At noon we

would reach Carson City, the capital of Nevada Territory. We were not glad, but sorry. It had been a fine

pleasure trip; we had fed fat on wonders every day; we were now well accustomed to stage life, and very fond

of it; so the idea of coming to a standstill and settling down to a humdrum existence in a village was not

Visibly our new home was a desert, walled in by barren, snowclad mountains. There was not a tree in sight.

There was no vegetation but the endless sagebrush and greasewood. All nature was gray with it. We were

plowing through great deeps of powdery alkali dust that rose in thick clouds and floated across the plain like

We were coated with it like millers; so were the coach, the mules, the mailbags, the driverwe and the

sagebrush and the other scenery were all one monotonous color. Long trains of freight wagons in the

distance envelope in ascending masses of dust suggested pictures of prairies on fire. These teams and their

masters were the only life we saw. Otherwise we moved in the midst of solitude, silence and desolation.

Every twenty steps we passed the skeleton of some dead beast of burthen, with its dustcoated skin stretched

tightly over its empty ribs. Frequently a solemn raven sat upon the skull or the hips and contemplated the

By and by Carson City was pointed out to us. It nestled in the edge of a great plain and was a sufficient

number of miles away to look like an assemblage of mere white spots in the shadow of a grim range of

mountains overlooking it, whose summits seemed lifted clear out of companionship and consciousness of

We arrived, disembarked, and the stage went on. It was a "wooden" town; its population two thousand souls.

The main street consisted of four or five blocks of little white frame stores which were too high to sit down

on, but not too high for various other purposes; in fact, hardly high enough. They were packed close together,

The sidewalk was of boards that were more or less loose and inclined to rattle when walked upon. In the

middle of the town, opposite the stores, was the "plaza" which is native to all towns beyond the Rocky

Mountains a large, unfenced, level vacancy, with a liberty pole in it, and very useful as a place for public

auctions, horse trades, and mass meetings, and likewise for teamsters to camp in. Two other sides of the plaza

We were introduced to several citizens, at the stageoffice and on the way up to the Governor's from the

hotelamong others, to a Mr. Harris, who was on horseback; he began to say something, but interrupted

"I'll have to get you to excuse me a minute; yonder is the witness that swore I helped to rob the California

coacha piece of impertinent intermeddling, sir, for I am not even acquainted with the man."

Then he rode over and began to rebuke the stranger with a sixshooter, and the stranger began to explain with

another. When the pistols were emptied, the stranger resumed his work (mending a whiplash), and Mr.

Harris rode by with a polite nod, homeward bound, with a bullet through one of his lungs, and several in his

hips; and from them issued little rivulets of blood that coursed down the horse's sides and made the animal

look quite picturesque. I never saw Harris shoot a man after that but it recalled to mind that first day in

This was all we saw that day, for it was two o'clock, now, and according to custom the daily "Washoe

Zephyr" set in; a soaring dustdrift about the size of the United States set up edgewise came with it, and the

Still, there were sights to be seen which were not wholly uninteresting to new comers; for the vast dust cloud

was thickly freckled with things strange to the upper airthings living and dead, that flitted hither and

thither, going and coming, appearing and disappearing among the rolling billows of dusthats, chickens and

parasols sailing in the remote heavens; blankets, tin signs, sagebrush and shingles a shade lower; doormats

and buffalo robes lower still; shovels and coal scuttles on the next grade; glass doors, cats and little children

on the next; disrupted lumber yards, light buggies and wheelbarrows on the next; and down only thirty or

forty feet above ground was a scurrying storm of emigrating roofs and vacant lots.

It was something to see that much. I could have seen more, if I could have kept the dust out of my eyes.

But seriously a Washoe wind is by no means a trifling matter. It blows flimsy houses down, lifts shingle roofs

occasionally, rolls up tin ones like sheet music, now and then blows a stage coach over and spills the

passengers; and tradition says the reason there are so many bald people there, is, that the wind blows the hair

off their heads while they are looking skyward after their hats. Carson streets seldom look inactive on

Summer afternoons, because there are so many citizens skipping around their escaping hats, like

The "Washoe Zephyr" (Washoe is a pet nickname for Nevada) is a peculiar Scriptural wind, in that no man

knoweth "whence it cometh." That is to say, where it originates. It comes right over the mountains from the

West, but when one crosses the ridge he does not find any of it on the other side! It probably is manufactured

on the mountaintop for the occasion, and starts from there. It is a pretty regular wind, in the summer time.

Its office hours are from two in the afternoon till two the next morning; and anybody venturing abroad during

those twelve hours needs to allow for the wind or he will bring up a mile or two to leeward of the point he is

aiming at. And yet the first complaint a Washoe visitor to San Francisco makes, is that the sea winds blow so,

We found the state palace of the Governor of Nevada Territory to consist of a white frame onestory house

with two small rooms in it and a stanchion supported shed in frontfor grandeurit compelled the respect

of the citizen and inspired the Indians with awe. The newly arrived Chief and Associate Justices of the

Territory, and other machinery of the government, were domiciled with less splendor. They were boarding

The Secretary and I took quarters in the "ranch" of a worthy French lady by the name of Bridget O'Flannigan,

a camp follower of his Excellency the Governor. She had known him in his prosperity as

commanderinchief of the Metropolitan Police of New York, and she would not desert him in his adversity

Our room was on the lower floor, facing the plaza, and when we had got our bed, a small table, two chairs,

the government fireproof safe, and the Unabridged Dictionary into it, there was still room enough left for a

visitormay be two, but not without straining the walls. But the walls could stand itat least the partitions

could, for they consisted simply of one thickness of white "cotton domestic" stretched from corner to corner

of the room. This was the rule in Carsonany other kind of partition was the rare exception. And if you

stood in a dark room and your neighbors in the next had lights, the shadows on your canvas told queer secrets

sometimes! Very often these partitions were made of old flour sacks basted together; and then the difference

between the common herd and the aristocracy was, that the common herd had unornamented sacks, while the

walls of the aristocrat were overpowering with rudimental frescoi.e., red and blue mill brands on the flour

Occasionally, also, the better classes embellished their canvas by pasting pictures from Harper's Weekly on

them. In many cases, too, the wealthy and the cultured rose to spittoons and other evidences of a sumptuous

and luxurious taste. [Washoe people take a joke so hard that I must explain that the above description was

only the rule; there were many honorable exceptions in Carsonplastered ceilings and houses that had

We had a carpet and a genuine queen'sware washbowl. Consequently we were hated without reserve by the

other tenants of the O'Flannigan "ranch." When we added a painted oilcloth window curtain, we simply took

our lives into our own hands. To prevent bloodshed I removed up stairs and took up quarters with the untitled

plebeians in one of the fourteen white pine cotbedsteads that stood in two long ranks in the one sole room of

It was a jolly company, the fourteen. They were principally voluntary campfollowers of the Governor, who

had joined his retinue by their own election at New York and San Francisco and came along, feeling that in

the scuffle for little territorial crumbs and offices they could not make their condition more precarious than it

was, and might reasonably expect to make it better. They were popularly known as the "Irish Brigade,"

though there were only four or five Irishmen among all the Governor's retainers.

His goodnatured Excellency was much annoyed at the gossip his henchmen createdespecially when there

arose a rumor that they were paid assassins of his, brought along to quietly reduce the democratic vote when

Mrs. O'Flannigan was boarding and lodging them at ten dollars a week apiece, and they were cheerfully

giving their notes for it. They were perfectly satisfied, but Bridget presently found that notes that could not be

discounted were but a feeble constitution for a Carson boarding house. So she began to harry the Governor

to find employment for the "Brigade." Her importunities and theirs together drove him to a gentle desperation

"Gentlemen, I have planned a lucrative and useful service for youa service which will provide you with

recreation amid noble landscapes, and afford you never ceasing opportunities for enriching your minds by

observation and study. I want you to survey a railroad from Carson City westward to a certain point! When

the legislature meets I will have the necessary bill passed and the remuneration arranged."

He converted them into surveyors, chainbearers and so on, and turned them loose in the desert. It was

"recreation" with a vengeance! Recreation on foot, lugging chains through sand and sagebrush, under a

"Romantic adventure" could go no further. They surveyed very slowly, very deliberately, very carefully.

They returned every night during the first week, dusty, footsore, tired, and hungry, but very jolly. They

brought in great store of prodigious hairy spiderstarantulasand imprisoned them in covered tumblers up

stairs in the "ranch." After the first week, they had to camp on the field, for they were getting well eastward.

They made a good many inquiries as to the location of that indefinite "certain point," but got no information.

At last, to a peculiarly urgent inquiry of "How far eastward?" Governor Nye telegraphed back:

This brought back the dusty toilers, who sent in a report and ceased from their labors. The Governor was

always comfortable about it; he said Mrs. O'Flannigan would hold him for the Brigade's board anyhow, and

he intended to get what entertainment he could out of the boys; he said, with his oldtime pleasant twinkle,

that he meant to survey them into Utah and then telegraph Brigham to hang them for trespass!

The surveyors brought back more tarantulas with them, and so we had quite a menagerie arranged along the

shelves of the room. Some of these spiders could straddle over a common saucer with their hairy, muscular

legs, and when their feelings were hurt, or their dignity offended, they were the wickedestlooking

desperadoes the animal world can furnish. If their glass prisonhouses were touched ever so lightly they were

up and spoiling for a fight in a minute. Starchy?proud? Indeed, they would take up a straw and pick their

teeth like a member of Congress. There was as usual a furious "zephyr" blowing the first night of the

brigade's return, and about midnight the roof of an adjoining stable blew off, and a corner of it came crashing

through the side of our ranch. There was a simultaneous awakening, and a tumultuous muster of the brigade

in the dark, and a general tumbling and sprawling over each other in the narrow aisle between the bedrows. In

the midst of the turmoil, Bob H sprung up out of a sound sleep, and knocked down a shelf with his

No warning ever sounded so dreadful. Nobody tried, any longer, to leave the room, lest he might step on a

tarantula. Every man groped for a trunk or a bed, and jumped on it. Then followed the strangest silencea

silence of grisly suspense it was, toowaiting, expectancy, fear. It was as dark as pitch, and one had to

imagine the spectacle of those fourteen scantclad men roosting gingerly on trunks and beds, for not a thing

could be seen. Then came occasional little interruptions of the silence, and one could recognize a man and tell

his locality by his voice, or locate any other sound a sufferer made by his gropings or changes of position.

The occasional voices were not given to much speakingyou simply heard a gentle ejaculation of "Ow!"

followed by a solid thump, and you knew the gentleman had felt a hairy blanket or something touch his bare

skin and had skipped from a bed to the floor. Another silence. Presently you would hear a gasping voice say:

Every now and then you could hear a little subdued scramble and a sorrowful "O Lord!" and then you knew

that somebody was getting away from something he took for a tarantula, and not losing any time about it,

"I've got him! I've got him!" [Pause, and probable change of circumstances.] "No, he's got me! Oh, ain't they

The lantern came at that moment, in the hands of Mrs. O'Flannigan, whose anxiety to know the amount of

damage done by the assaulting roof had not prevented her waiting a judicious interval, after getting out of bed

and lighting up, to see if the wind was done, now, up stairs, or had a larger contract.

The landscape presented when the lantern flashed into the room was picturesque, and might have been funny

to some people, but was not to us. Although we were perched so strangely upon boxes, trunks and beds, and

so strangely attired, too, we were too earnestly distressed and too genuinely miserable to see any fun about it,

and there was not the semblance of a smile anywhere visible. I know I am not capable of suffering more than

I did during those few minutes of suspense in the dark, surrounded by those creeping, bloodyminded

tarantulas. I had skipped from bed to bed and from box to box in a cold agony, and every time I touched

anything that was furzy I fancied I felt the fangs. I had rather go to war than live that episode over again.

Nobody was hurt. The man who thought a tarantula had "got him" was mistakenonly a crack in a box had

caught his finger. Not one of those escaped tarantulas was ever seen again. There were ten or twelve of them.

We took candles and hunted the place high and low for them, but with no success. Did we go back to bed

then? We did nothing of the kind. Money could not have persuaded us to do it. We sat up the rest of the night

It was the end of August, and the skies were cloudless and the weather superb. In two or three weeks I had

grown wonderfully fascinated with the curious new country and concluded to put off my return to "the

States" awhile. I had grown well accustomed to wearing a damaged slouch hat, blue woolen shirt, and pants

crammed into boottops, and gloried in the absence of coat, vest and braces. I felt rowdyish and "bully," (as

the historian Josephus phrases it, in his fine chapter upon the destruction of the Temple). It seemed to me that

nothing could be so fine and so romantic. I had become an officer of the government, but that was for mere

sublimity. The office was an unique sinecure. I had nothing to do and no salary. I was private Secretary to his

majesty the Secretary and there was not yet writing enough for two of us. So Johnny K and I devoted

our time to amusement. He was the young son of an Ohio nabob and was out there for recreation. He got it.

We had heard a world of talk about the marvellous beauty of Lake Tahoe, and finally curiosity drove us

thither to see it. Three or four members of the Brigade had been there and located some timber lands on its

shores and stored up a quantity of provisions in their camp. We strapped a couple of blankets on our

shoulders and took an axe apiece and startedfor we intended to take up a wood ranch or so ourselves and

become wealthy. We were on foot. The reader will find it advantageous to go horseback. We were told that

the distance was eleven miles. We tramped a long time on level ground, and then toiled laboriously up a

mountain about a thousand miles high and looked over. No lake there. We descended on the other side,

crossed the valley and toiled up another mountain three or four thousand miles high, apparently, and looked

over again. No lake yet. We sat down tired and perspiring, and hired a couple of Chinamen to curse those

people who had beguiled us. Thus refreshed, we presently resumed the march with renewed vigor and

determination. We plodded on, two or three hours longer, and at last the Lake burst upon usa noble sheet

of blue water lifted six thousand three hundred feet above the level of the sea, and walled in by a rim of

snowclad mountain peaks that towered aloft full three thousand feet higher still! It was a vast oval, and one

would have to use up eighty or a hundred good miles in traveling around it. As it lay there with the shadows

of the mountains brilliantly photographed upon its still surface I thought it must surely be the fairest picture

We found the small skiff belonging to the Brigade boys, and without loss of time set out across a deep bend

of the lake toward the landmarks that signified the locality of the camp. I got Johnny to rownot because I

mind exertion myself, but because it makes me sick to ride backwards when I am at work. But I steered. A

threemile pull brought us to the camp just as the night fell, and we stepped ashore very tired and wolfishly

hungry. In a "cache" among the rocks we found the provisions and the cooking utensils, and then, all fatigued

as I was, I sat down on a boulder and superintended while Johnny gathered wood and cooked supper. Many a

It was a delicious supperhot bread, fried bacon, and black coffee. It was a delicious solitude we were in,

too. Three miles away was a saw mill and some workmen, but there were not fifteen other human beings

throughout the wide circumference of the lake. As the darkness closed down and the stars came out and

spangled the great mirror with jewels, we smoked meditatively in the solemn hush and forgot our troubles

and our pains. In due time we spread our blankets in the warm sand between two large boulders and soon feel

asleep, careless of the procession of ants that passed in through rents in our clothing and explored our

persons. Nothing could disturb the sleep that fettered us, for it had been fairly earned, and if our consciences

had any sins on them they had to adjourn court for that night, any way. The wind rose just as we were losing

consciousness, and we were lulled to sleep by the beating of the surf upon the shore.

It is always very cold on that lake shore in the night, but we had plenty of blankets and were warm enough.

We never moved a muscle all night, but waked at early dawn in the original positions, and got up at once,

thoroughly refreshed, free from soreness, and brim full of friskiness. There is no end of wholesome medicine

in such an experience. That morning we could have whipped ten such people as we were the day before

sick ones at any rate. But the world is slow, and people will go to "water cures" and "movement cures" and to

foreign lands for health. Three months of camp life on Lake Tahoe would restore an Egyptian mummy to his

pristine vigor, and give him an appetite like an alligator. I do not mean the oldest and driest mummies, of

course, but the fresher ones. The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious. And

why shouldn't it be?it is the same the angels breathe. I think that hardly any amount of fatigue can be

gathered together that a man cannot sleep off in one night on the sand by its side. Not under a roof, but under

the sky; it seldom or never rains there in the summer time. I know a man who went there to die. But he made

a failure of it. He was a skeleton when he came, and could barely stand. He had no appetite, and did nothing

but read tracts and reflect on the future. Three months later he was sleeping out of doors regularly, eating all

he could hold, three times a day, and chasing game over mountains three thousand feet high for recreation.

And he was a skeleton no longer, but weighed part of a ton. This is no fancy sketch, but the truth. His disease

I superintended again, and as soon as we had eaten breakfast we got in the boat and skirted along the lake

shore about three miles and disembarked. We liked the appearance of the place, and so we claimed some

three hundred acres of it and stuck our "notices" on a tree. It was yellow pine timber landa dense forest of

trees a hundred feet high and from one to five feet through at the butt. It was necessary to fence our property

or we could not hold it. That is to say, it was necessary to cut down trees here and there and make them fall in

such a way as to form a sort of enclosure (with pretty wide gaps in it). We cut down three trees apiece, and

found it such heartbreaking work that we decided to "rest our case" on those; if they held the property, well

and good; if they didn't, let the property spill out through the gaps and go; it was no use to work ourselves to

death merely to save a few acres of land. Next day we came back to build a housefor a house was also

necessary, in order to hold the property. We decided to build a substantial log house and excite the envy of

the Brigade boys; but by the time we had cut and trimmed the first log it seemed unnecessary to be so

elaborate, and so we concluded to build it of saplings. However, two saplings, duly cut and trimmed,

compelled recognition of the fact that a still modester architecture would satisfy the law, and so we concluded

to build a "brush" house. We devoted the next day to this work, but we did so much "sitting around" and

discussing, that by the middle of the afternoon we had achieved only a halfway sort of affair which one of

us had to watch while the other cut brush, lest if both turned our backs we might not be able to find it again, it

had such a strong family resemblance to the surrounding vegetation. But we were satisfied with it.

We were land owners now, duly seized and possessed, and within the protection of the law. Therefore we

decided to take up our residence on our own domain and enjoy that large sense of independence which only

such an experience can bring. Late the next afternoon, after a good long rest, we sailed away from the

Brigade camp with all the provisions and cooking utensils we could carry offborrow is the more accurate

If there is any life that is happier than the life we led on our timber ranch for the next two or three weeks, it

must be a sort of life which I have not read of in books or experienced in person. We did not see a human

being but ourselves during the time, or hear any sounds but those that were made by the wind and the waves,

the sighing of the pines, and now and then the faroff thunder of an avalanche. The forest about us was dense

and cool, the sky above us was cloudless and brilliant with sunshine, the broad lake before us was glassy and

clear, or rippled and breezy, or black and stormtossed, according to Nature's mood; and its circling border of

mountain domes, clothed with forests, scarred with landslides, cloven by canons and valleys, and helmeted

with glittering snow, fitly framed and finished the noble picture. The view was always fascinating,

bewitching, entrancing. The eye was never tired of gazing, night or day, in calm or storm; it suffered but one

grief, and that was that it could not look always, but must close sometimes in sleep.

We slept in the sand close to the water's edge, between two protecting boulders, which took care of the

stormy nightwinds for us. We never took any paregoric to make us sleep. At the first break of dawn we were

always up and running footraces to tone down excess of physical vigor and exuberance of spirits. That is,

Johnny wasbut I held his hat. While smoking the pipe of peace after breakfast we watched the sentinel

peaks put on the glory of the sun, and followed the conquering light as it swept down among the shadows,

and set the captive crags and forests free. We watched the tinted pictures grow and brighten upon the water

till every little detail of forest, precipice and pinnacle was wrought in and finished, and the miracle of the

That is, drifting around in the boat. We were on the north shore. There, the rocks on the bottom are

sometimes gray, sometimes white. This gives the marvelous transparency of the water a fuller advantage than

it has elsewhere on the lake. We usually pushed out a hundred yards or so from shore, and then lay down on

the thwarts, in the sun, and let the boat drift by the hour whither it would. We seldom talked. It interrupted

the Sabbath stillness, and marred the dreams the luxurious rest and indolence brought. The shore all along

was indented with deep, curved bays and coves, bordered by narrow sandbeaches; and where the sand

ended, the steep mountainsides rose right up aloft into spacerose up like a vast wall a little out of the

So singularly clear was the water, that where it was only twenty or thirty feet deep the bottom was so

perfectly distinct that the boat seemed floating in the air! Yes, where it was even eighty feet deep. Every little

pebble was distinct, every speckled trout, every hand's breadth of sand. Often, as we lay on our faces, a

granite boulder, as large as a village church, would start out of the bottom apparently, and seem climbing up

rapidly to the surface, till presently it threatened to touch our faces, and we could not resist the impulse to

seize an oar and avert the danger. But the boat would float on, and the boulder descend again, and then we

could see that when we had been exactly above it, it must still have been twenty or thirty feet below the

surface. Down through the transparency of these great depths, the water was not merely transparent, but

dazzlingly, brilliantly so. All objects seen through it had a bright, strong vividness, not only of outline, but of

every minute detail, which they would not have had when seen simply through the same depth of atmosphere.

So empty and airy did all spaces seem below us, and so strong was the sense of floating high aloft in

We fished a good deal, but we did not average one fish a week. We could see trout by the thousand winging

about in the emptiness under us, or sleeping in shoals on the bottom, but they would not bitethey could see

the line too plainly, perhaps. We frequently selected the trout we wanted, and rested the bait patiently and

persistently on the end of his nose at a depth of eighty feet, but he would only shake it off with an annoyed

We bathed occasionally, but the water was rather chilly, for all it looked so sunny. Sometimes we rowed out

to the "blue water," a mile or two from shore. It was as dead blue as indigo there, because of the immense

depth. By official measurement the lake in its centre is one thousand five hundred and twentyfive feet deep!

Sometimes, on lazy afternoons, we lolled on the sand in camp, and smoked pipes and read some old

wellworn novels. At night, by the campfire, we played euchre and sevenup to strengthen the mindand

played them with cards so greasy and defaced that only a whole summer's acquaintance with them could

We never slept in our "house." It never recurred to us, for one thing; and besides, it was built to hold the

By and by our provisions began to run short, and we went back to the old camp and laid in a new supply. We

were gone all day, and reached home again about nightfall, pretty tired and hungry. While Johnny was

carrying the main bulk of the provisions up to our "house" for future use, I took the loaf of bread, some slices

of bacon, and the coffeepot, ashore, set them down by a tree, lit a fire, and went back to the boat to get the

fryingpan. While I was at this, I heard a shout from Johnny, and looking up I saw that my fire was galloping

all over the premises! Johnny was on the other side of it. He had to run through the flames to get to the lake

The ground was deeply carpeted with dry pineneedles, and the fire touched them off as if they were

gunpowder. It was wonderful to see with what fierce speed the tall sheet of flame traveled! My coffeepot

was gone, and everything with it. In a minute and a half the fire seized upon a dense growth of dry manzanita

chapparal six or eight feet high, and then the roaring and popping and crackling was something terrific. We

Within half an hour all before us was a tossing, blinding tempest of flame! It went surging up adjacent

ridgessurmounted them and disappeared in the canons beyondburst into view upon higher and farther

ridges, presentlyshed a grander illumination abroad, and dove again flamed out again, directly, higher

and still higher up the mountainside threw out skirmishing parties of fire here and there, and sent them

trailing their crimson spirals away among remote ramparts and ribs and gorges, till as far as the eye could

reach the lofty mountainfronts were webbed as it were with a tangled network of red lava streams. Away

across the water the crags and domes were lit with a ruddy glare, and the firmament above was a reflected

Every feature of the spectacle was repeated in the glowing mirror of the lake! Both pictures were sublime,

both were beautiful; but that in the lake had a bewildering richness about it that enchanted the eye and held it

We sat absorbed and motionless through four long hours. We never thought of supper, and never felt fatigue.

But at eleven o'clock the conflagration had traveled beyond our range of vision, and then darkness stole down

Hunger asserted itself now, but there was nothing to eat. The provisions were all cooked, no doubt, but we

did not go to see. We were homeless wanderers again, without any property. Our fence was gone, our house

burned down; no insurance. Our pine forest was well scorched, the dead trees all burned up, and our broad

acres of manzanita swept away. Our blankets were on our usual sandbed, however, and so we lay down and

went to sleep. The next morning we started back to the old camp, but while out a long way from shore, so

great a storm came up that we dared not try to land. So I baled out the seas we shipped, and Johnny pulled

heavily through the billows till we had reached a point three or four miles beyond the camp. The storm was

increasing, and it became evident that it was better to take the hazard of beaching the boat than go down in a

hundred fathoms of water; so we ran in, with tall whitecaps following, and I sat down in the sternsheets

and pointed her headon to the shore. The instant the bow struck, a wave came over the stern that washed

crew and cargo ashore, and saved a deal of trouble. We shivered in the lee of a boulder all the rest of the day,

and froze all the night through. In the morning the tempest had gone down, and we paddled down to the camp

without any unnecessary delay. We were so starved that we ate up the rest of the Brigade's provisions, and

then set out to Carson to tell them about it and ask their forgiveness. It was accorded, upon payment of

We made many trips to the lake after that, and had many a hairbreadth escape and bloodcurdling adventure

I resolved to have a horse to ride. I had never seen such wild, free, magnificent horsemanship outside of a

circus as these picturesquelyclad Mexicans, Californians and Mexicanized Americans displayed in Carson

streets every day. How they rode! Leaning just gently forward out of the perpendicular, easy and nonchalant,

with broad slouchhat brim blown square up in front, and long riata swinging above the head, they swept

through the town like the wind! The next minute they were only a sailing puff of dust on the far desert. If they

trotted, they sat up gallantly and gracefully, and seemed part of the horse; did not go jiggering up and down

after the silly MissNancy fashion of the ridingschools. I had quickly learned to tell a horse from a cow, and

While the thought was rankling in my mind, the auctioneer came skurrying through the plaza on a black beast

that had as many humps and corners on him as a dromedary, and was necessarily uncomely; but he was

"going, going, at twentytwo!horse, saddle and bridle at twentytwo dollars, gentlemen!" and I could

A man whom I did not know (he turned out to be the auctioneer's brother) noticed the wistful look in my eye,

and observed that that was a very remarkable horse to be going at such a price; and added that the saddle

alone was worth the money. It was a Spanish saddle, with ponderous 'tapidaros', and furnished with the

ungainly soleleather covering with the unspellable name. I said I had half a notion to bid. Then this

keeneyed person appeared to me to be "taking my measure"; but I dismissed the suspicion when he spoke,

"I know that horseknow him well. You are a stranger, I take it, and so you might think he was an

American horse, maybe, but I assure you he is not. He is nothing of the kind; butexcuse my speaking in a

low voice, other people being nearhe is, without the shadow of a doubt, a Genuine Mexican Plug!"

I did not know what a Genuine Mexican Plug was, but there was something about this man's way of saying it,

He hooked his forefinger in the pocket of my armyshirt, led me to one side, and breathed in my ear

"And sold!" said the auctioneer, and passed over the Genuine Mexican Plug to me.

I could scarcely contain my exultation. I paid the money, and put the animal in a neighboring liverystable to

In the afternoon I brought the creature into the plaza, and certain citizens held him by the head, and others by

the tail, while I mounted him. As soon as they let go, he placed all his feet in a bunch together, lowered his

back, and then suddenly arched it upward, and shot me straight into the air a matter of three or four feet! I

came as straight down again, lit in the saddle, went instantly up again, came down almost on the high

pommel, shot up again, and came down on the horse's neckall in the space of three or four seconds. Then

he rose and stood almost straight up on his hind feet, and I, clasping his lean neck desperately, slid back into

the saddle and held on. He came down, and immediately hoisted his heels into the air, delivering a vicious

kick at the sky, and stood on his forefeet. And then down he came once more, and began the original exercise

of shooting me straight up again. The third time I went up I heard a stranger say:

While I was up, somebody struck the horse a sounding thwack with a leathern strap, and when I arrived again

the Genuine Mexican Plug was not there. A California youth chased him up and caught him, and asked if he

might have a ride. I granted him that luxury. He mounted the Genuine, got lifted into the air once, but sent his

spurs home as he descended, and the horse darted away like a telegram. He soared over three fences like a

I sat down on a stone, with a sigh, and by a natural impulse one of my hands sought my forehead, and the

other the base of my stomach. I believe I never appreciated, till then, the poverty of the human

machineryfor I still needed a hand or two to place elsewhere. Pen cannot describe how I was jolted up.

Imagination cannot conceive how disjointed I washow internally, externally and universally I was

unsettled, mixed up and ruptured. There was a sympathetic crowd around me, though.

"Stranger, you've been taken in. Everybody in this camp knows that horse. Any child, any Injun, could have

told you that he'd buck; he is the very worst devil to buck on the continent of America. You hear me. I'm

Curry. Old Curry. Old Abe Curry. And moreover, he is a simonpure, outandout, genuine dd Mexican

plug, and an uncommon mean one at that, too. Why, you turnip, if you had laid low and kept dark, there's

chances to buy an American horse for mighty little more than you paid for that bloody old foreign relic."

I gave no sign; but I made up my mind that if the auctioneer's brother's funeral took place while I was in the

After a gallop of sixteen miles the Californian youth and the Genuine Mexican Plug came tearing into town

again, shedding foamflakes like the spumespray that drives before a typhoon, and, with one final skip over

Such panting and blowing! Such spreading and contracting of the red equine nostrils, and glaring of the wild

His lordship the Speaker of the House thought he was, and mounted him to go down to the Capitol; but the

first dash the creature made was over a pile of telegraph poles half as high as a church; and his time to the

Capitolone mile and three quartersremains unbeaten to this day. But then he took an advantagehe left

out the mile, and only did the three quarters. That is to say, he made a straight cut across lots, preferring

fences and ditches to a crooked road; and when the Speaker got to the Capitol he said he had been in the air

In the evening the Speaker came home afoot for exercise, and got the Genuine towed back behind a quartz

wagon. The next day I loaned the animal to the Clerk of the House to go down to the Dana silver mine, six

miles, and he walked back for exercise, and got the horse towed. Everybody I loaned him to always walked

Still, I continued to loan him to anybody who was willing to borrow him, my idea being to get him crippled,

and throw him on the borrower's hands, or killed, and make the borrower pay for him. But somehow nothing

ever happened to him. He took chances that no other horse ever took and survived, but he always came out

safe. It was his daily habit to try experiments that had always before been considered impossible, but he

always got through. Sometimes he miscalculated a little, and did not get his rider through intact, but he

always got through himself. Of course I had tried to sell him; but that was a stretch of simplicity which met

with little sympathy. The auctioneer stormed up and down the streets on him for four days, dispersing the

populace, interrupting business, and destroying children, and never got a bidat least never any but the

eighteendollar one he hired a notoriously substanceless bummer to make. The people only smiled

pleasantly, and restrained their desire to buy, if they had any. Then the auctioneer brought in his bill, and I

withdrew the horse from the market. We tried to trade him off at private vendue next, offering him at a

sacrifice for secondhand tombstones, old iron, temperance tractsany kind of property. But holders were

stiff, and we retired from the market again. I never tried to ride the horse any more. Walking was good

enough exercise for a man like me, that had nothing the matter with him except ruptures, internal injuries, and

such things. Finally I tried to give him away. But it was a failure. Parties said earthquakes were handy enough

on the Pacific coastthey did not wish to own one. As a last resort I offered him to the Governor for the use

of the "Brigade." His face lit up eagerly at first, but toned down again, and he said the thing would be too

Just then the livery stable man brought in his bill for six weeks' keepingstallroom for the horse, fifteen

dollars; hay for the horse, two hundred and fifty! The Genuine Mexican Plug had eaten a ton of the article,

I will remark here, in all seriousness, that the regular price of hay during that year and a part of the next was

really two hundred and fifty dollars a ton. During a part of the previous year it had sold at five hundred a ton,

in gold, and during the winter before that there was such scarcity of the article that in several instances small

quantities had brought eight hundred dollars a ton in coin! The consequence might be guessed without my

telling it: peopled turned their stock loose to starve, and before the spring arrived Carson and Eagle valleys

were almost literally carpeted with their carcases! Any old settler there will verify these statements.

I managed to pay the livery bill, and that same day I gave the Genuine Mexican Plug to a passing Arkansas

emigrant whom fortune delivered into my hand. If this ever meets his eye, he will doubtless remember the

Now whoever has had the luck to ride a real Mexican plug will recognize the animal depicted in this chapter,

and hardly consider him exaggerated but the uninitiated will feel justified in regarding his portrait as a

Originally, Nevada was a part of Utah and was called Carson county; and a pretty large county it was, too.

Certain of its valleys produced no end of hay, and this attracted small colonies of Mormon stockraisers and

farmers to them. A few orthodox Americans straggled in from California, but no love was lost between the

two classes of colonists. There was little or no friendly intercourse; each party staid to itself. The Mormons

were largely in the majority, and had the additional advantage of being peculiarly under the protection of the

Mormon government of the Territory. Therefore they could afford to be distant, and even peremptory toward

their neighbors. One of the traditions of Carson Valley illustrates the condition of things that prevailed at the

time I speak of. The hired girl of one of the American families was Irish, and a Catholic; yet it was noted with

surprise that she was the only person outside of the Mormon ring who could get favors from the Mormons.

She asked kindnesses of them often, and always got them. It was a mystery to everybody. But one day as she

was passing out at the door, a large bowie knife dropped from under her apron, and when her mistress asked

for an explanation she observed that she was going out to "borry a washtub from the Mormons!"

In 1858 silver lodes were discovered in "Carson County," and then the aspect of things changed. Californians

began to flock in, and the American element was soon in the majority. Allegiance to Brigham Young and

Utah was renounced, and a temporary territorial government for "Washoe" was instituted by the citizens.

Governor Roop was the first and only chief magistrate of it. In due course of time Congress passed a bill to

organize "Nevada Territory," and President Lincoln sent out Governor Nye to supplant Roop.

At this time the population of the Territory was about twelve or fifteen thousand, and rapidly increasing.

Silver mines were being vigorously developed and silver mills erected. Business of all kinds was active and

The people were glad to have a legitimately constituted government, but did not particularly enjoy having

strangers from distant States put in authority over thema sentiment that was natural enough. They thought

the officials should have been chosen from among themselves from among prominent citizens who had

earned a right to such promotion, and who would be in sympathy with the populace and likewise thoroughly

acquainted with the needs of the Territory. They were right in viewing the matter thus, without doubt. The

new officers were "emigrants," and that was no title to anybody's affection or admiration either.

The new government was received with considerable coolness. It was not only a foreign intruder, but a poor

one. It was not even worth plucking except by the smallest of small fry officeseekers and such.

Everybody knew that Congress had appropriated only twenty thousand dollars a year in greenbacks for its

supportabout money enough to run a quartz mill a month. And everybody knew, also, that the first year's

money was still in Washington, and that the getting hold of it would be a tedious and difficult process.

Carson City was too wary and too wise to open up a credit account with the imported bantling with anything

There is something solemnly funny about the struggles of a newborn Territorial government to get a start in

this world. Ours had a trying time of it. The Organic Act and the "instructions" from the State Department

commanded that a legislature should be elected at suchand such a time, and its sittings inaugurated at

suchandsuch a date. It was easy to get legislators, even at three dollars a day, although board was four

dollars and fifty cents, for distinction has its charm in Nevada as well as elsewhere, and there were plenty of

patriotic souls out of employment; but to get a legislative hall for them to meet in was another matter

altogether. Carson blandly declined to give a room rentfree, or let one to the government on credit.

But when Curry heard of the difficulty, he came forward, solitary and alone, and shouldered the Ship of State

over the bar and got her afloat again. I refer to "CurryOld CurryOld Abe Curry." But for him the

legislature would have been obliged to sit in the desert. He offered his large stone building just outside the

capital limits, rentfree, and it was gladly accepted. Then he built a horserailroad from town to the capitol,

He also furnished pine benches and chairs for the legislature, and covered the floors with clean sawdust by

way of carpet and spittoon combined. But for Curry the government would have died in its tender infancy. A

canvas partition to separate the Senate from the House of Representatives was put up by the Secretary, at a

cost of three dollars and forty cents, but the United States declined to pay for it. Upon being reminded that the

"instructions" permitted the payment of a liberal rent for a legislative hall, and that that money was saved to

the country by Mr. Curry's generosity, the United States said that did not alter the matter, and the three dollars

and forty cents would be subtracted from the Secretary's eighteen hundred dollar salaryand it was!

The matter of printing was from the beginning an interesting feature of the new government's difficulties. The

Secretary was sworn to obey his volume of written "instructions," and these commanded him to do two

1. Get the House and Senate journals printed; and, 2. For this work, pay one dollar and fifty cents per

"thousand" for composition, and one dollar and fifty cents per "token" for presswork, in greenbacks.

It was easy to swear to do these two things, but it was entirely impossible to do more than one of them. When

greenbacks had gone down to forty cents on the dollar, the prices regularly charged everybody by printing

establishments were one dollar and fifty cents per "thousand" and one dollar and fifty cents per "token," in

gold. The "instructions" commanded that the Secretary regard a paper dollar issued by the government as

equal to any other dollar issued by the government. Hence the printing of the journals was discontinued. Then

the United States sternly rebuked the Secretary for disregarding the "instructions," and warned him to correct

his ways. Wherefore he got some printing done, forwarded the bill to Washington with full exhibits of the

high prices of things in the Territory, and called attention to a printed market report wherein it would be

observed that even hay was two hundred and fifty dollars a ton. The United States responded by subtracting

the printing bill from the Secretary's suffering salaryand moreover remarked with dense gravity that he

Nothing in this world is palled in such impenetrable obscurity as a U.S. Treasury Comptroller's

understanding. The very fires of the hereafter could get up nothing more than a fitful glimmer in it. In the

days I speak of he never could be made to comprehend why it was that twenty thousand dollars would not go

as far in Nevada, where all commodities ranged at an enormous figure, as it would in the other Territories,

where exceeding cheapness was the rule. He was an officer who looked out for the little expenses all the time.

The Secretary of the Territory kept his office in his bedroom, as I before remarked; and he charged the United

States no rent, although his "instructions" provided for that item and he could have justly taken advantage of

it (a thing which I would have done with more than lightning promptness if I had been Secretary myself). But

the United States never applauded this devotion. Indeed, I think my country was ashamed to have so

Those "instructions" (we used to read a chapter from them every morning, as intellectual gymnastics, and a

couple of chapters in Sunday school every Sabbath, for they treated of all subjects under the sun and had

much valuable religious matter in them along with the other statistics) those "instructions" commanded that

penknives, envelopes, pens and writingpaper be furnished the members of the legislature. So the Secretary

made the purchase and the distribution. The knives cost three dollars apiece. There was one too many, and the

Secretary gave it to the Clerk of the House of Representatives. The United States said the Clerk of the House

was not a "member" of the legislature, and took that three dollars out of the Secretary's salary, as usual.

White men charged three or four dollars a "load" for sawing up stove wood. The Secretary was sagacious

enough to know that the United States would never pay any such price as that; so he got an Indian to saw up a

load of office wood at one dollar and a half. He made out the usual voucher, but signed no name to

itsimply appended a note explaining that an Indian had done the work, and had done it in a very capable

and satisfactory way, but could not sign the voucher owing to lack of ability in the necessary direction. The

Secretary had to pay that dollar and a half. He thought the United States would admire both his economy and

his honesty in getting the work done at half price and not putting a pretended Indian's signature to the

The United States was too much accustomed to employing dollarandahalf thieves in all manner of

official capacities to regard his explanation of the voucher as having any foundation in fact.

But the next time the Indian sawed wood for us I taught him to make a cross at the bottom of the voucherit

looked like a cross that had been drunk a yearand then I "witnessed" it and it went through all right. The

United States never said a word. I was sorry I had not made the voucher for a thousand loads of wood instead

The government of my country snubs honest simplicity but fondles artistic villainy, and I think I might have

developed into a very capable pickpocket if I had remained in the public service a year or two.

That was a fine collection of sovereigns, that first Nevada legislature. They levied taxes to the amount of

thirty or forty thousand dollars and ordered expenditures to the extent of about a million. Yet they had their

little periodical explosions of economy like all other bodies of the kind. A member proposed to save three

dollars a day to the nation by dispensing with the Chaplain. And yet that shortsighted man needed the

Chaplain more than any other member, perhaps, for he generally sat with his feet on his desk, eating raw

The legislature sat sixty days, and passed private tollroad franchises all the time. When they adjourned it was

estimated that every citizen owned about three franchises, and it was believed that unless Congress gave the

Territory another degree of longitude there would not be room enough to accommodate the tollroads. The

The fact is, the freighting business had grown to such important proportions that there was nearly as much

excitement over suddenly acquired tollroad fortunes as over the wonderful silver mines.

By and by I was smitten with the silver fever. "Prospecting parties" were leaving for the mountains every

day, and discovering and taking possession of rich silverbearing lodes and ledges of quartz. Plainly this was

the road to fortune. The great "Gould and Curry" mine was held at three or four hundred dollars a foot when

we arrived; but in two months it had sprung up to eight hundred. The "Ophir" had been worth only a mere

trifle, a year gone by, and now it was selling at nearly four thousand dollars a foot! Not a mine could be

named that had not experienced an astonishing advance in value within a short time. Everybody was talking

about these marvels. Go where you would, you heard nothing else, from morning till far into the night. Tom

SoandSo had sold out of the 'Amanda Smith" for $40,000hadn't a cent when he "took up" the ledge six

months ago. John Jones had sold half his interest in the "Bald Eagle and Mary Ann" for $65,000, gold coin,

and gone to the States for his family. The widow Brewster had "struck it rich" in the "Golden Fleece" and

sold ten feet for $18,000hadn't money enough to buy a crape bonnet when SingSing Tommy killed her

husband at Baldy Johnson's wake last spring. The "Last Chance" had found a "clay casing" and knew they

were "right on the ledge"consequence, "feet" that went begging yesterday were worth a brick house apiece

today, and seedy owners who could not get trusted for a drink at any bar in the country yesterday were

roaring drunk on champagne today and had hosts of warm personal friends in a town where they had

forgotten how to bow or shake hands from longcontinued want of practice. Johnny Morgan, a common

loafer, had gone to sleep in the gutter and waked up worth a hundred thousand dollars, in consequence of the

decision in the "Lady Franklin and Rough and Ready" lawsuit. And so onday in and day out the talk pelted

I would have been more or less than human if I had not gone mad like the rest. Cartloads of solid silver

bricks, as large as pigs of lead, were arriving from the mills every day, and such sights as that gave substance

Every few days news would come of the discovery of a brannew mining region; immediately the papers

would teem with accounts of its richness, and away the surplus population would scamper to take possession.

By the time I was fairly inoculated with the disease, "Esmeralda" had just had a run and "Humboldt" was

beginning to shriek for attention. "Humboldt! Humboldt!" was the new cry, and straightway Humboldt, the

newest of the new, the richest of the rich, the most marvellous of the marvellous discoveries in silverland

was occupying two columns of the public prints to "Esmeralda's" one. I was just on the point of starting to

Esmeralda, but turned with the tide and got ready for Humboldt. That the reader may see what moved me,

and what would as surely have moved him had he been there, I insert here one of the newspaper letters of the

day. It and several other letters from the same calm hand were the main means of converting me. I shall not

garble the extract, but put it in just as it appeared in the Daily Territorial Enterprise:

Let me state one or two things which will help the reader to better comprehend certain items in the above. At

this time, our near neighbor, Gold Hill, was the most successful silver mining locality in Nevada. It was from

there that more than half the daily shipments of silver bricks came. "Very rich" (and scarce) Gold Hill ore

yielded from $100 to $400 to the ton; but the usual yield was only $20 to $40 per tonthat is to say, each

hundred pounds of ore yielded from one dollar to two dollars. But the reader will perceive by the above

extract, that in Humboldt from one fourth to nearly half the mass was silver! That is to say, every one

hundred pounds of the ore had from two hundred dollars up to about three hundred and fifty in it. Some days

This was enough. The instant we had finished reading the above article, four of us decided to go to

Humboldt. We commenced getting ready at once. And we also commenced upbraiding ourselves for not

deciding soonerfor we were in terror lest all the rich mines would be found and secured before we got

there, and we might have to put up with ledges that would not yield more than two or three hundred dollars a

ton, maybe. An hour before, I would have felt opulent if I had owned ten feet in a Gold Hill mine whose ore

produced twentyfive dollars to the ton; now I was already annoyed at the prospect of having to put up with

Hurry, was the word! We wasted no time. Our party consisted of four personsa blacksmith sixty years of

age, two young lawyers, and myself. We bought a wagon and two miserable old horses. We put eighteen

hundred pounds of provisions and mining tools in the wagon and drove out of Carson on a chilly December

afternoon. The horses were so weak and old that we soon found that it would be better if one or two of us got

out and walked. It was an improvement. Next, we found that it would be better if a third man got out. That

was an improvement also. It was at this time that I volunteered to drive, although I had never driven a

harnessed horse before and many a man in such a position would have felt fairly excused from such a

responsibility. But in a little while it was found that it would be a fine thing if the drive got out and walked

also. It was at this time that I resigned the position of driver, and never resumed it again. Within the hour, we

found that it would not only be better, but was absolutely necessary, that we four, taking turns, two at a time,

should put our hands against the end of the wagon and push it through the sand, leaving the feeble horses

little to do but keep out of the way and hold up the tongue. Perhaps it is well for one to know his fate at first,

and get reconciled to it. We had learned ours in one afternoon. It was plain that we had to walk through the

sand and shove that wagon and those horses two hundred miles. So we accepted the situation, and from that

time forth we never rode. More than that, we stood regular and nearly constant watches pushing up behind.

We made seven miles, and camped in the desert. Young Clagett (now member of Congress from Montana)

unharnessed and fed and watered the horses; Oliphant and I cut sagebrush, built the fire and brought water to

cook with; and old Mr. Ballou the blacksmith did the cooking. This division of labor, and this appointment,

was adhered to throughout the journey. We had no tent, and so we slept under our blankets in the open plain.

We were fifteen days making the triptwo hundred miles; thirteen, rather, for we lay by a couple of days, in

We could really have accomplished the journey in ten days if we had towed the horses behind the wagon, but

we did not think of that until it was too late, and so went on shoving the horses and the wagon too when we

might have saved half the labor. Parties who met us, occasionally, advised us to put the horses in the wagon,

but Mr. Ballou, through whose ironclad earnestness no sarcasm could pierce, said that that would not do,

because the provisions were exposed and would suffer, the horses being "bituminous from long deprivation."

The reader will excuse me from translating. What Mr. Ballou customarily meant, when he used a long word,

was a secret between himself and his Maker. He was one of the best and kindest hearted men that ever graced

a humble sphere of life. He was gentleness and simplicity itselfand unselfishness, too. Although he was

more than twice as old as the eldest of us, he never gave himself any airs, privileges, or exemptions on that

account. He did a young man's share of the work; and did his share of conversing and entertaining from the

general standpoint of any agenot from the arrogant, overawing summitheight of sixty years. His one

striking peculiarity was his Partingtonian fashion of loving and using big words for their own sakes, and

independent of any bearing they might have upon the thought he was purposing to convey. He always let his

ponderous syllables fall with an easy unconsciousness that left them wholly without offensiveness. In truth

his air was so natural and so simple that one was always catching himself accepting his stately sentences as

meaning something, when they really meant nothing in the world. If a word was long and grand and resonant,

that was sufficient to win the old man's love, and he would drop that word into the most outoftheway

place in a sentence or a subject, and be as pleased with it as if it were perfectly luminous with meaning.

We four always spread our common stock of blankets together on the frozen ground, and slept side by side;

and finding that our foolish, longlegged hound pup had a deal of animal heat in him, Oliphant got to

admitting him to the bed, between himself and Mr. Ballou, hugging the dog's warm back to his breast and

finding great comfort in it. But in the night the pup would get stretchy and brace his feet against the old man's

back and shove, grunting complacently the while; and now and then, being warm and snug, grateful and

happy, he would paw the old man's back simply in excess of comfort; and at yet other times he would dream

of the chase and in his sleep tug at the old man's back hair and bark in his ear. The old gentleman complained

mildly about these familiarities, at last, and when he got through with his statement he said that such a dog as

that was not a proper animal to admit to bed with tired men, because he was "so meretricious in his

It was a hard, wearing, toilsome journey, but it had its bright side; for after each day was done and our

wolfish hunger appeased with a hot supper of fried bacon, bread, molasses and black coffee, the

pipesmoking, song singing and yarnspinning around the evening campfire in the still solitudes of the

desert was a happy, carefree sort of recreation that seemed the very summit and culmination of earthly

It is a kind of life that has a potent charm for all men, whether city or countrybred. We are descended from

desertlounging Arabs, and countless ages of growth toward perfect civilization have failed to root out of us

the nomadic instinct. We all confess to a gratified thrill at the thought of "camping out."

Once we made twentyfive miles in a day, and once we made forty miles (through the Great American

Desert), and ten miles beyondfifty in all in twentythree hours, without halting to eat, drink or rest. To

stretch out and go to sleep, even on stony and frozen ground, after pushing a wagon and two horses fifty

miles, is a delight so supreme that for the moment it almost seems cheap at the price.

We camped two days in the neighborhood of the "Sink of the Humboldt." We tried to use the strong alkaline

water of the Sink, but it would not answer. It was like drinking lye, and not weak lye, either. It left a taste in

the mouth, bitter and every way execrable, and a burning in the stomach that was very uncomfortable. We put

molasses in it, but that helped it very little; we added a pickle, yet the alkali was the prominent taste and so it

The coffee we made of this water was the meanest compound man has yet invented. It was really viler to the

taste than the unameliorated water itself. Mr. Ballou, being the architect and builder of the beverage felt

constrained to endorse and uphold it, and so drank half a cup, by little sips, making shift to praise it faintly

the while, but finally threw out the remainder, and said frankly it was "too technical for him."

But presently we found a spring of fresh water, convenient, and then, with nothing to mar our enjoyment, and

After leaving the Sink, we traveled along the Humboldt river a little way. People accustomed to the monster

milewide Mississippi, grow accustomed to associating the term "river" with a high degree of watery

grandeur. Consequently, such people feel rather disappointed when they stand on the shores of the Humboldt

or the Carson and find that a "river" in Nevada is a sickly rivulet which is just the counterpart of the Erie

canal in all respects save that the canal is twice as long and four times as deep. One of the pleasantest and

most invigorating exercises one can contrive is to run and jump across the Humboldt river till he is

On the fifteenth day we completed our march of two hundred miles and entered Unionville, Humboldt

county, in the midst of a driving snow storm. Unionville consisted of eleven cabins and a libertypole. Six

of the cabins were strung along one side of a deep canyon, and the other five faced them. The rest of the

landscape was made up of bleak mountain walls that rose so high into the sky from both sides of the canyon

that the village was left, as it were, far down in the bottom of a crevice. It was always daylight on the

We built a small, rude cabin in the side of the crevice and roofed it with canvas, leaving a corner open to

serve as a chimney, through which the cattle used to tumble occasionally, at night, and mash our furniture and

interrupt our sleep. It was very cold weather and fuel was scarce. Indians brought brush and bushes several

miles on their backs; and when we could catch a laden Indian it was welland when we could not (which

I confess, without shame, that I expected to find masses of silver lying all about the ground. I expected to see

it glittering in the sun on the mountain summits. I said nothing about this, for some instinct told me that I

might possibly have an exaggerated idea about it, and so if I betrayed my thought I might bring derision upon

myself. Yet I was as perfectly satisfied in my own mind as I could be of anything, that I was going to gather

up, in a day or two, or at furthest a week or two, silver enough to make me satisfactorily wealthyand so my

fancy was already busy with plans for spending this money. The first opportunity that offered, I sauntered

carelessly away from the cabin, keeping an eye on the other boys, and stopping and contemplating the sky

when they seemed to be observing me; but as soon as the coast was manifestly clear, I fled away as guiltily as

a thief might have done and never halted till I was far beyond sight and call. Then I began my search with a

feverish excitement that was brimful of expectationalmost of certainty. I crawled about the ground, seizing

and examining bits of stone, blowing the dust from them or rubbing them on my clothes, and then peering at

them with anxious hope. Presently I found a bright fragment and my heart bounded! I hid behind a boulder

and polished it and scrutinized it with a nervous eagerness and a delight that was more pronounced than

absolute certainty itself could have afforded. The more I examined the fragment the more I was convinced

that I had found the door to fortune. I marked the spot and carried away my specimen. Up and down the

rugged mountain side I searched, with always increasing interest and always augmenting gratitude that I had

come to Humboldt and come in time. Of all the experiences of my life, this secret search among the hidden

treasures of silverland was the nearest to unmarred ecstasy. It was a delirious revel.

By and by, in the bed of a shallow rivulet, I found a deposit of shining yellow scales, and my breath almost

forsook me! A gold mine, and in my simplicity I had been content with vulgar silver! I was so excited that I

half believed my overwrought imagination was deceiving me. Then a fear came upon me that people might

be observing me and would guess my secret. Moved by this thought, I made a circuit of the place, and

ascended a knoll to reconnoiter. Solitude. No creature was near. Then I returned to my mine, fortifying

myself against possible disappointment, but my fears were groundlessthe shining scales were still there. I

set about scooping them out, and for an hour I toiled down the windings of the stream and robbed its bed. But

at last the descending sun warned me to give up the quest, and I turned homeward laden with wealth. As I

walked along I could not help smiling at the thought of my being so excited over my fragment of silver when

a nobler metal was almost under my nose. In this little time the former had so fallen in my estimation that

The boys were as hungry as usual, but I could eat nothing. Neither could I talk. I was full of dreams and far

away. Their conversation interrupted the flow of my fancy somewhat, and annoyed me a little, too. I despised

the sordid and commonplace things they talked about. But as they proceeded, it began to amuse me. It grew

to be rare fun to hear them planning their poor little economies and sighing over possible privations and

distresses when a gold mine, all our own, lay within sight of the cabin and I could point it out at any moment.

Smothered hilarity began to oppress me, presently. It was hard to resist the impulse to burst out with

exultation and reveal everything; but I did resist. I said within myself that I would filter the great news

through my lips calmly and be serene as a summer morning while I watched its effect in their faces. I said:

"Can't tell, yet," said Mr. Ballou, who was an old gold miner, and had likewise had considerable experience

"Yes, a sort of a one. It's fair enough here, may be, but overrated. Seven thousand dollar ledges are scarce,

That Sheba may be rich enough, but we don't own it; and besides, the rock is so full of base metals that all the

science in the world can't work it. We'll not starve, here, but we'll not get rich, I'm afraid."

"Suppose, nowthis is merely a supposition, you knowsuppose you could find a ledge that would yield,

"Or supposemerely a supposition, of coursesuppose you were to find a ledge that would yield two

"Herewhat do you mean? What are you coming at? Is there some mystery behind all this?"

"Never mind. I am not saying anything. You know perfectly well there are no rich mines hereof course

you do. Because you have been around and examined for yourselves. Anybody would know that, that had

been around. But just for the sake of argument, supposein a kind of general waysuppose some person

were to tell you that twothousanddollar ledges were simply contemptiblecontemptible,

understandand that right yonder in sight of this very cabin there were piles of pure gold and pure

"I should say he was as crazy as a loon!" said old Ballou, but wild with excitement, nevertheless.

"Gentlemen," said I, "I don't say anythingI haven't been around, you know, and of course don't know

anythingbut all I ask of you is to cast your eye on that, for instance, and tell me what you think of it!" and I

There was an eager scramble for it, and a closing of heads together over it under the candlelight. Then old

"Think of it? I think it is nothing but a lot of granite rubbish and nasty glittering mica that isn't worth ten

So vanished my dream. So melted my wealth away. So toppled my airy castle to the earth and left me

Mr. Ballou said I could go further than that, and lay it up among my treasures of knowledge, that nothing that

glitters is gold. So I learned then, once for all, that gold in its native state is but dull, unornamental stuff, and

that only lowborn metals excite the admiration of the ignorant with an ostentatious glitter. However, like the

rest of the world, I still go on underrating men of gold and glorifying men of mica. Commonplace human

True knowledge of the nature of silver mining came fast enough. We went out "prospecting" with Mr. Ballou.

We climbed the mountain sides, and clambered among sagebrush, rocks and snow till we were ready to

drop with exhaustion, but found no silvernor yet any gold. Day after day we did this. Now and then we

came upon holes burrowed a few feet into the declivities and apparently abandoned; and now and then we

found one or two listless men still burrowing. But there was no appearance of silver. These holes were the

beginnings of tunnels, and the purpose was to drive them hundreds of feet into the mountain, and some day

tap the hidden ledge where the silver was. Some day! It seemed far enough away, and very hopeless and

dreary. Day after day we toiled, and climbed and searched, and we younger partners grew sicker and still

sicker of the promiseless toil. At last we halted under a beetling rampart of rock which projected from the

earth high upon the mountain. Mr. Ballou broke off some fragments with a hammer, and examined them long

and attentively with a small eyeglass; threw them away and broke off more; said this rock was quartz, and

quartz was the sort of rock that contained silver. Contained it! I had thought that at least it would be caked on

the outside of it like a kind of veneering. He still broke off pieces and critically examined them, now and then

We were full of anxiety in a moment. The rock was clean and white, where it was broken, and across it ran a

ragged thread of blue. He said that that little thread had silver in it, mixed with base metal, such as lead and

antimony, and other rubbish, and that there was a speck or two of gold visible. After a great deal of effort we

managed to discern some little fine yellow specks, and judged that a couple of tons of them massed together

might make a gold dollar, possibly. We were not jubilant, but Mr. Ballou said there were worse ledges in the

world than that. He saved what he called the "richest" piece of the rock, in order to determine its value by the

process called the "fireassay." Then we named the mine "Monarch of the Mountains" (modesty of

nomenclature is not a prominent feature in the mines), and Mr. Ballou wrote out and stuck up the following

"notice," preserving a copy to be entered upon the books in the mining recorder's office in the town.

We put our names to it and tried to feel that our fortunes were made. But when we talked the matter all over

with Mr. Ballou, we felt depressed and dubious. He said that this surface quartz was not all there was of our

mine; but that the wall or ledge of rock called the "Monarch of the Mountains," extended down hundreds and

hundreds of feet into the earth he illustrated by saying it was like a curbstone, and maintained a nearly

uniform thicknesssay twenty feetaway down into the bowels of the earth, and was perfectly distinct from

the casing rock on each side of it; and that it kept to itself, and maintained its distinctive character always, no

matter how deep it extended into the earth or how far it stretched itself through and across the hills and

valleys. He said it might be a mile deep and ten miles long, for all we knew; and that wherever we bored into

it above ground or below, we would find gold and silver in it, but no gold or silver in the meaner rock it was

cased between. And he said that down in the great depths of the ledge was its richness, and the deeper it went

the richer it grew. Therefore, instead of working here on the surface, we must either bore down into the rock

with a shaft till we came to where it was richsay a hundred feet or so or else we must go down into the

valley and bore a long tunnel into the mountain side and tap the ledge far under the earth. To do either was

plainly the labor of months; for we could blast and bore only a few feet a daysome five or six. But this was

not all. He said that after we got the ore out it must be hauled in wagons to a distant silvermill, ground up,

and the silver extracted by a tedious and costly process. Our fortune seemed a century away!

But we went to work. We decided to sink a shaft. So, for a week we climbed the mountain, laden with picks,

drills, gads, crowbars, shovels, cans of blasting powder and coils of fuse and strove with might and main. At

first the rock was broken and loose and we dug it up with picks and threw it out with shovels, and the hole

progressed very well. But the rock became more compact, presently, and gads and crowbars came into play.

That was the weariest work! One of us held the iron drill in its place and another would strike with an

eightpound sledgeit was like driving nails on a large scale. In the course of an hour or two the drill would

reach a depth of two or three feet, making a hole a couple of inches in diameter. We would put in a charge of

powder, insert half a yard of fuse, pour in sand and gravel and ram it down, then light the fuse and run. When

the explosion came and the rocks and smoke shot into the air, we would go back and find about a bushel of

that hard, rebellious quartz jolted out. Nothing more. One week of this satisfied me. I resigned. Clagget and

Oliphant followed. Our shaft was only twelve feet deep. We decided that a tunnel was the thing we wanted.

So we went down the mountain side and worked a week; at the end of which time we had blasted a tunnel

about deep enough to hide a hogshead in, and judged that about nine hundred feet more of it would reach the

ledge. I resigned again, and the other boys only held out one day longer. We decided that a tunnel was not

what we wanted. We wanted a ledge that was already "developed." There were none in the camp.

Meantime the camp was filling up with people, and there was a constantly growing excitement about our

Humboldt mines. We fell victims to the epidemic and strained every nerve to acquire more "feet." We

prospected and took up new claims, put "notices" on them and gave them grandiloquent names. We traded

some of our "feet" for "feet" in other people's claims. In a little while we owned largely in the "Gray Eagle,"

the "Columbiana," the "Branch Mint," the "Maria Jane," the "Universe," the "RootHogor Die," the

"Samson and Delilah," the "Treasure Trove," the "Golconda," the "Sultana," the "Boomerang," the "Great

Republic," the "Grand Mogul," and fifty other "mines" that had never been molested by a shovel or scratched

with a pick. We had not less than thirty thousand "feet" apiece in the "richest mines on earth" as the frenzied

cant phrased itand were in debt to the butcher. We were stark mad with excitementdrunk with

happinesssmothered under mountains of prospective wealtharrogantly compassionate toward the

plodding millions who knew not our marvellous canyonbut our credit was not good at the grocer's.

It was the strangest phase of life one can imagine. It was a beggars' revel. There was nothing doing in the

districtno miningno milling no productive effortno incomeand not enough money in the entire

camp to buy a corner lot in an eastern village, hardly; and yet a stranger would have supposed he was walking

among bloated millionaires. Prospecting parties swarmed out of town with the first flush of dawn, and

swarmed in again at nightfall laden with spoilrocks. Nothing but rocks. Every man's pockets were full of

them; the floor of his cabin was littered with them; they were disposed in labeled rows on his shelves.

I met men at every turn who owned from one thousand to thirty thousand "feet" in undeveloped silver mines,

every single foot of which they believed would shortly be worth from fifty to a thousand dollarsand as

often as any other way they were men who had not twentyfive dollars in the world. Every man you met had

his new mine to boast of, and his "specimens" ready; and if the opportunity offered, he would infallibly back

you into a corner and offer as a favor to you, not to him, to part with just a few feet in the "Golden Age," or

the "Sarah Jane," or some other unknown stack of croppings, for money enough to get a "square meal" with,

as the phrase went. And you were never to reveal that he had made you the offer at such a ruinous price, for it

was only out of friendship for you that he was willing to make the sacrifice. Then he would fish a piece of

rock out of his pocket, and after looking mysteriously around as if he feared he might be waylaid and robbed

if caught with such wealth in his possession, he would dab the rock against his tongue, clap an eyeglass to it,

"Look at that! Right there in that red dirt! See it? See the specks of gold? And the streak of silver? That's

from the Uncle Abe. There's a hundred thousand tons like that in sight! Right in sight, mind you! And when

we get down on it and the ledge comes in solid, it will be the richest thing in the world! Look at the assay! I

Then he would get out a greasy sheet of paper which showed that the portion of rock assayed had given

evidence of containing silver and gold in the proportion of so many hundreds or thousands of dollars to the

I little knew, then, that the custom was to hunt out the richest piece of rock and get it assayed! Very often,

that piece, the size of a filbert, was the only fragment in a ton that had a particle of metal in itand yet the

assay made it pretend to represent the average value of the ton of rubbish it came from!

On such a system of assaying as that, the Humboldt world had gone crazy. On the authority of such assays its

newspaper correspondents were frothing about rock worth four and seven thousand dollars a ton!

And does the reader remember, a few pages back, the calculations, of a quoted correspondent, whereby the

ore is to be mined and shipped all the way to England, the metals extracted, and the gold and silver contents

received back by the miners as clear profit, the copper, antimony and other things in the ore being sufficient

to pay all the expenses incurred? Everybody's head was full of such "calculations" as those such raving

insanity, rather. Few people took work into their calculationsor outlay of money either; except the work

We never touched our tunnel or our shaft again. Why? Because we judged that we had learned the real secret

of success in silver miningwhich was, not to mine the silver ourselves by the sweat of our brows and the

labor of our hands, but to sell the ledges to the dull slaves of toil and let them do the mining!

Before leaving Carson, the Secretary and I had purchased "feet" from various Esmeralda stragglers. We had

expected immediate returns of bullion, but were only afflicted with regular and constant "assessments"

insteaddemands for money wherewith to develop the said mines. These assessments had grown so

oppressive that it seemed necessary to look into the matter personally. Therefore I projected a pilgrimage to

Carson and thence to Esmeralda. I bought a horse and started, in company with Mr. Ballou and a gentleman

named Ollendorff, a Prussiannot the party who has inflicted so much suffering on the world with his

wretched foreign grammars, with their interminable repetitions of questions which never have occurred and

are never likely to occur in any conversation among human beings. We rode through a snowstorm for two

or three days, and arrived at "Honey Lake Smith's," a sort of isolated inn on the Carson river. It was a

twostory log house situated on a small knoll in the midst of the vast basin or desert through which the sickly

Carson winds its melancholy way. Close to the house were the Overland stage stables, built of sundried

bricks. There was not another building within several leagues of the place. Towards sunset about twenty

haywagons arrived and camped around the house and all the teamsters came in to suppera very, very

rough set. There were one or two Overland stage drivers there, also, and half a dozen vagabonds and

We walked out, after supper, and visited a small Indian camp in the vicinity. The Indians were in a great

hurry about something, and were packing up and getting away as fast as they could. In their broken English

they said, "By'mby, heap water!" and by the help of signs made us understand that in their opinion a flood

was coming. The weather was perfectly clear, and this was not the rainy season. There was about a foot of

water in the insignificant riveror maybe two feet; the stream was not wider than a back alley in a village,

So, where was the flood to come from? We canvassed the subject awhile and then concluded it was a ruse,

and that the Indians had some better reason for leaving in a hurry than fears of a flood in such an exceedingly

At seven in the evening we went to bed in the second storywith our clothes on, as usual, and all three in the

same bed, for every available space on the floors, chairs, etc., was in request, and even then there was barely

room for the housing of the inn's guests. An hour later we were awakened by a great turmoil, and springing

out of bed we picked our way nimbly among the ranks of snoring teamsters on the floor and got to the front

windows of the long room. A glance revealed a strange spectacle, under the moonlight. The crooked Carson

was full to the brim, and its waters were raging and foaming in the wildest waysweeping around the sharp

bends at a furious speed, and bearing on their surface a chaos of logs, brush and all sorts of rubbish. A

depression, where its bed had once been, in other times, was already filling, and in one or two places the

water was beginning to wash over the main bank. Men were flying hither and thither, bringing cattle and

wagons close up to the house, for the spot of high ground on which it stood extended only some thirty feet in

front and about a hundred in the rear. Close to the old river bed just spoken of, stood a little log stable, and in

While we looked, the waters increased so fast in this place that in a few minutes a torrent was roaring by the

little stable and its margin encroaching steadily on the logs. We suddenly realized that this flood was not a

mere holiday spectacle, but meant damageand not only to the small log stable but to the Overland

buildings close to the main river, for the waves had now come ashore and were creeping about the

foundations and invading the great haycorral adjoining. We ran down and joined the crowd of excited men

and frightened animals. We waded kneedeep into the log stable, unfastened the horses and waded out almost

waistdeep, so fast the waters increased. Then the crowd rushed in a body to the hay corral and began to

tumble down the huge stacks of baled hay and roll the bales up on the high ground by the house. Meantime it

was discovered that Owens, an overland driver, was missing, and a man ran to the large stable, and wading

in, boottop deep, discovered him asleep in his bed, awoke him, and waded out again. But Owens was

drowsy and resumed his nap; but only for a minute or two, for presently he turned in his bed, his hand

dropped over the side and came in contact with the cold water! It was up level with the mattress! He waded

out, breastdeep, almost, and the next moment the sunburned bricks melted down like sugar and the big

At eleven o'clock only the roof of the little log stable was out of water, and our inn was on an island in

midocean. As far as the eye could reach, in the moonlight, there was no desert visible, but only a level waste

of shining water. The Indians were true prophets, but how did they get their information? I am not able to

answer the question. We remained cooped up eight days and nights with that curious crew. Swearing,

drinking and card playing were the order of the day, and occasionally a fight was thrown in for variety. Dirt

and verminbut let us forget those features; their profusion is simply inconceivableit is better that they

There were two men in the company who caused me particular discomfort. One was a little Swede, about

twentyfive years old, who knew only one song, and he was forever singing it. By day we were all crowded

into one small, stifling barroom, and so there was no escaping this person's music. Through all the profanity,

whiskyguzzling, "old sledge" and quarreling, his monotonous song meandered with never a variation in its

tiresome sameness, and it seemed to me, at last, that I would be content to die, in order to be rid of the torture.

The other man was a stalwart ruffian called "Arkansas," who carried two revolvers in his belt and a bowie

knife projecting from his boot, and who was always drunk and always suffering for a fight. But he was so

feared, that nobody would accommodate him. He would try all manner of little wary ruses to entrap

somebody into an offensive remark, and his face would light up now and then when he fancied he was fairly

on the scent of a fight, but invariably his victim would elude his toils and then he would show a

disappointment that was almost pathetic. The landlord, Johnson, was a meek, wellmeaning fellow, and

Arkansas fastened on him early, as a promising subject, and gave him no rest day or night, for awhile. On the

fourth morning, Arkansas got drunk and sat himself down to wait for an opportunity. Presently Johnson came

Arkansas raised his finger impressively and Johnson stopped. Arkansas rose unsteadily and confronted him.

"Whawhat do you know aabout Pennsylvania? Answer me that. Whawhat do you know 'bout

"You was only goin' to say. You was! You was only goin' to saywhat was you goin' to say? That's it!

That's what I want to know. I want to know whawhat you ('ic) what you know about Pennsylvania, since

"Who's a henderin' you? Don't you insinuate nothing agin me!don't you do it. Don't you come in here

bullyin' around, and cussin' and goin' on like a lunaticdon't you do it. 'Coz I won't stand it. If fight's what

"Why, I never said nothing, Mr. Arkansas. You don't give a man no chance. I was only goin' to say that

Pennsylvania was goin' to have an election next weekthat was allthat was everything I was goin' to say

"Well then why d'n't you say it? What did you come swellin' around that way for, and tryin' to raise trouble?"

"Oh, please, Mr. Arkansas, I never meant such a thing as that, I wish I may die if I did. All the boys will tell

you that I've always spoke well of you, and respected you more'n any man in the house. Ask Smith. Ain't it

so, Smith? Didn't I say, no longer ago than last night, that for a man that was a gentleman all the time and

every way you took him, give me Arkansas? I'll leave it to any gentleman here if them warn't the very words I

used. Come, now, Mr. Arkansas, le's take a drinkle's shake hands and take a drink. Come upeverybody!

It's my treat. Come up, Bill, Tom, Bob, Scottycome up. I want you all to take a drink with me and

Arkansasold Arkansas, I call himbully old Arkansas. Gimme your hand agin. Look at him, boysjust

take a look at him. Thar stands the whitest man in America!and the man that denies it has got to fight me,

They embraced, with drunken affection on the landlord's part and unresponsive toleration on the part of

Arkansas, who, bribed by a drink, was disappointed of his prey once more. But the foolish landlord was so

happy to have escaped butchery, that he went on talking when he ought to have marched himself out of

danger. The consequence was that Arkansas shortly began to glower upon him dangerously, and presently

"I was asayin' to Scotty that my father was up'ards of eighty year old when he died."

Arkansas played with his glass a moment, lolling on his elbows on the counter. Then he meditatively

scratched his left shin with his right boot, while the awkward silence continued. But presently he loafed away

toward the stove, looking dissatisfied; roughly shouldered two or three men out of a comfortable position;

occupied it himself, gave a sleeping dog a kick that sent him howling under a bench, then spread his long legs

and his blanketcoat tails apart and proceeded to warm his back. In a little while he fell to grumbling to

"Lan'lord, what's your idea for rakin' up old personalities and blowin' about your father? Ain't this company

agreeable to you? Ain't it? If this company ain't agreeable to you, p'r'aps we'd better leave. Is that your idea?

"Why bless your soul, Arkansas, I warn't thinking of such a thing. My father and my mother"

"Lan'lord, don't crowd a man! Don't do it. If nothing'll do you but a disturbance, out with it like a man

('ic)but don't rake up old bygones and fling'em in the teeth of a passel of people that wants to be peaceable

if they could git a chance. What's the matter with you this mornin', anyway? I never see a man carry on so."

"Arkansas, I reely didn't mean no harm, and I won't go on with it if it's onpleasant to you. I reckon my licker's

got into my head, and what with the flood, and havin' so many to feed and look out for"

"So that's what's aranklin' in your heart, is it? You want us to leave do you? There's too many on us. You

"Are you a threatenin' me? Are you? By George, the man don't live that can skeer me! Don't you try to come

that game, my chicken'cuz I can stand a good deal, but I won't stand that. Come out from behind that bar

till I clean you! You want to drive us out, do you, you sneakin' underhanded hound! Come out from behind

that bar! I'll learn you to bully and badger and browbeat a gentleman that's forever trying to befriend you and

"Do you hear that, gentlemen? Do you hear him talk about bloodshed? So it's blood you want, is it, you ravin'

desperado! You'd made up your mind to murder somebody this mornin'I knowed it perfectly well. I'm the

man, am I? It's me you're goin' to murder, is it? But you can't do it 'thout I get one chance first, you thievin'

With that, Arkansas began to shoot, and the landlord to clamber over benches, men and every sort of obstacle

in a frantic desire to escape. In the midst of the wild hubbub the landlord crashed through a glass door, and as

Arkansas charged after him the landlord's wife suddenly appeared in the doorway and confronted the

desperado with a pair of scissors! Her fury was magnificent. With head erect and flashing eye she stood a

moment and then advanced, with her weapon raised. The astonished ruffian hesitated, and then fell back a

step. She followed. She backed him step by step into the middle of the barroom, and then, while the

wondering crowd closed up and gazed, she gave him such another tonguelashing as never a cowed and

shamefaced braggart got before, perhaps! As she finished and retired victorious, a roar of applause shook the

The lesson was entirely sufficient. The reign of terror was over, and the Arkansas domination broken for

good. During the rest of the season of island captivity, there was one man who sat apart in a state of

permanent humiliation, never mixing in any quarrel or uttering a boast, and never resenting the insults the

By the fifth or sixth morning the waters had subsided from the land, but the stream in the old river bed was

still high and swift and there was no possibility of crossing it. On the eighth it was still too high for an

entirely safe passage, but life in the inn had become next to insupportable by reason of the dirt, drunkenness,

fighting, etc., and so we made an effort to get away. In the midst of a heavy snowstorm we embarked in a

canoe, taking our saddles aboard and towing our horses after us by their halters. The Prussian, Ollendorff,

was in the bow, with a paddle, Ballou paddled in the middle, and I sat in the stern holding the halters. When

the horses lost their footing and began to swim, Ollendorff got frightened, for there was great danger that the

horses would make our aim uncertain, and it was plain that if we failed to land at a certain spot the current

would throw us off and almost surely cast us into the main Carson, which was a boiling torrent, now. Such a

catastrophe would be death, in all probability, for we would be swept to sea in the "Sink" or overturned and

drowned. We warned Ollendorff to keep his wits about him and handle himself carefully, but it was useless;

the moment the bow touched the bank, he made a spring and the canoe whirled upside down in tenfoot

Ollendorff seized some brush and dragged himself ashore, but Ballou and I had to swim for it, encumbered

with our overcoats. But we held on to the canoe, and although we were washed down nearly to the Carson,

we managed to push the boat ashore and make a safe landing. We were cold and water soaked, but safe. The

horses made a landing, too, but our saddles were gone, of course. We tied the animals in the sagebrush and

there they had to stay for twentyfour hours. We baled out the canoe and ferried over some food and blankets

for them, but we slept one more night in the inn before making another venture on our journey.

The next morning it was still snowing furiously when we got away with our new stock of saddles and

accoutrements. We mounted and started. The snow lay so deep on the ground that there was no sign of a road

perceptible, and the snowfall was so thick that we could not see more than a hundred yards ahead, else we

could have guided our course by the mountain ranges. The case looked dubious, but Ollendorff said his

instinct was as sensitive as any compass, and that he could "strike a beeline" for Carson city and never

diverge from it. He said that if he were to straggle a single point out of the true line his instinct would assail

him like an outraged conscience. Consequently we dropped into his wake happy and content. For half an hour

we poked along warily enough, but at the end of that time we came upon a fresh trail, and Ollendorff shouted

"I knew I was as dead certain as a compass, boys! Here we are, right in somebody's tracks that will hunt the

way for us without any trouble. Let's hurry up and join company with the party."

So we put the horses into as much of a trot as the deep snow would allow, and before long it was evident that

we were gaining on our predecessors, for the tracks grew more distinct. We hurried along, and at the end of

an hour the tracks looked still newer and fresherbut what surprised us was, that the number of travelers in

advance of us seemed to steadily increase. We wondered how so large a party came to be traveling at such a

time and in such a solitude. Somebody suggested that it must be a company of soldiers from the fort, and so

we accepted that solution and jogged along a little faster still, for they could not be far off now. But the tracks

still multiplied, and we began to think the platoon of soldiers was miraculously expanding into a

regimentBallou said they had already increased to five hundred! Presently he stopped his horse and said:

"Boys, these are our own tracks, and we've actually been circussing round and round in a circle for more than

two hours, out here in this blind desert! By George this is perfectly hydraulic!"

Then the old man waxed wroth and abusive. He called Ollendorff all manner of hard namessaid he never

saw such a lurid fool as he was, and ended with the peculiarly venomous opinion that he "did not know as

We certainly had been following our own tracks. Ollendorff and his "mental compass" were in disgrace from

After all our hard travel, here we were on the bank of the stream again, with the inn beyond dimly outlined

through the driving snowfall. While we were considering what to do, the young Swede landed from the

canoe and took his pedestrian way Carsonwards, singing his same tiresome song about his "sister and his

brother" and "the child in the grave with its mother," and in a short minute faded and disappeared in the white

oblivion. He was never heard of again. He no doubt got bewildered and lost, and Fatigue delivered him over

to Sleep and Sleep betrayed him to Death. Possibly he followed our treacherous tracks till he became

Presently the Overland stage forded the now fast receding stream and started toward Carson on its first trip

since the flood came. We hesitated no longer, now, but took up our march in its wake, and trotted merrily

along, for we had good confidence in the driver's bump of locality. But our horses were no match for the

fresh stage team. We were soon left out of sight; but it was no matter, for we had the deep ruts the wheels

made for a guide. By this time it was three in the afternoon, and consequently it was not very long before

night cameand not with a lingering twilight, but with a sudden shutting down like a cellar door, as is its

habit in that country. The snowfall was still as thick as ever, and of course we could not see fifteen steps

before us; but all about us the white glare of the snowbed enabled us to discern the smooth sugarloaf

mounds made by the covered sagebushes, and just in front of us the two faint grooves which we knew were

Now those sagebushes were all about the same heightthree or four feet; they stood just about seven feet

apart, all over the vast desert; each of them was a mere snowmound, now; in any direction that you

proceeded (the same as in a well laid out orchard) you would find yourself moving down a distinctly defined

avenue, with a row of these snowmounds an either side of itan avenue the customary width of a road,

nice and level in its breadth, and rising at the sides in the most natural way, by reason of the mounds. But we

had not thought of this. Then imagine the chilly thrill that shot through us when it finally occurred to us, far

in the night, that since the last faint trace of the wheeltracks had long ago been buried from sight, we might

now be wandering down a mere sagebrush avenue, miles away from the road and diverging further and

further away from it all the time. Having a cake of ice slipped down one's back is placid comfort compared to

it. There was a sudden leap and stir of blood that had been asleep for an hour, and as sudden a rousing of all

the drowsing activities in our minds and bodies. We were alive and awake at onceand shaking and quaking

with consternation, too. There was an instant halting and dismounting, a bending low and an anxious

scanning of the roadbed. Useless, of course; for if a faint depression could not be discerned from an altitude

of four or five feet above it, it certainly could not with one's nose nearly against it.

We seemed to be in a road, but that was no proof. We tested this by walking off in various directionsthe

regular snowmounds and the regular avenues between them convinced each man that he had found the true

road, and that the others had found only false ones. Plainly the situation was desperate. We were cold and

stiff and the horses were tired. We decided to build a sagebrush fire and camp out till morning. This was

wise, because if we were wandering from the right road and the snowstorm continued another day our case

All agreed that a camp fire was what would come nearest to saving us, now, and so we set about building it.

We could find no matches, and so we tried to make shift with the pistols. Not a man in the party had ever

tried to do such a thing before, but not a man in the party doubted that it could be done, and without any

troublebecause every man in the party had read about it in books many a time and had naturally come to

believe it, with trusting simplicity, just as he had long ago accepted and believed that other common

bookfraud about Indians and lost hunters making a fire by rubbing two dry sticks together.

We huddled together on our knees in the deep snow, and the horses put their noses together and bowed their

patient heads over us; and while the feathery flakes eddied down and turned us into a group of white statuary,

we proceeded with the momentous experiment. We broke twigs from a sage bush and piled them on a little

cleared place in the shelter of our bodies. In the course of ten or fifteen minutes all was ready, and then, while

conversation ceased and our pulses beat low with anxious suspense, Ollendorff applied his revolver, pulled

the trigger and blew the pile clear out of the county! It was the flattest failure that ever was.

This was distressing, but it paled before a greater horrorthe horses were gone! I had been appointed to hold

the bridles, but in my absorbing anxiety over the pistol experiment I had unconsciously dropped them and the

released animals had walked off in the storm. It was useless to try to follow them, for their footfalls could

make no sound, and one could pass within two yards of the creatures and never see them. We gave them up

without an effort at recovering them, and cursed the lying books that said horses would stay by their masters

We were miserable enough, before; we felt still more forlorn, now. Patiently, but with blighted hope, we

broke more sticks and piled them, and once more the Prussian shot them into annihilation. Plainly, to light a

fire with a pistol was an art requiring practice and experience, and the middle of a desert at midnight in a

snowstorm was not a good place or time for the acquiring of the accomplishment. We gave it up and tried

the other. Each man took a couple of sticks and fell to chafing them together. At the end of half an hour we

were thoroughly chilled, and so were the sticks. We bitterly execrated the Indians, the hunters and the books

that had betrayed us with the silly device, and wondered dismally what was next to be done. At this critical

moment Mr. Ballou fished out four matches from the rubbish of an overlooked pocket. To have found four

One cannot think how good a match looks under such circumstancesor how lovable and precious, and

sacredly beautiful to the eye. This time we gathered sticks with high hopes; and when Mr. Ballou prepared to

light the first match, there was an amount of interest centred upon him that pages of writing could not

describe. The match burned hopefully a moment, and then went out. It could not have carried more regret

with it if it had been a human life. The next match simply flashed and died. The wind puffed the third one out

just as it was on the imminent verge of success. We gathered together closer than ever, and developed a

solicitude that was rapt and painful, as Mr. Ballou scratched our last hope on his leg. It lit, burned blue and

sickly, and then budded into a robust flame. Shading it with his hands, the old gentleman bent gradually

down and every heart went with himeverybody, too, for that matterand blood and breath stood still. The

flame touched the sticks at last, took gradual hold upon themhesitatedtook a stronger hold hesitated

againheld its breath five heartbreaking seconds, then gave a sort of human gasp and went out.

Nobody said a word for several minutes. It was a solemn sort of silence; even the wind put on a stealthy,

sinister quiet, and made no more noise than the falling flakes of snow. Finally a sadvoiced conversation

began, and it was soon apparent that in each of our hearts lay the conviction that this was our last night with

the living. I had so hoped that I was the only one who felt so. When the others calmly acknowledged their

"Brothers, let us die together. And let us go without one hard feeling towards each other. Let us forget and

forgive bygones. I know that you have felt hard towards me for turning over the canoe, and for knowing too

much and leading you round and round in the snowbut I meant well; forgive me. I acknowledge freely that

I have had hard feelings against Mr. Ballou for abusing me and calling me a logarythm, which is a thing I do

not know what, but no doubt a thing considered disgraceful and unbecoming in America, and it has scarcely

been out of my mind and has hurt me a great dealbut let it go; I forgive Mr. Ballou with all my heart,

Poor Ollendorff broke down and the tears came. He was not alone, for I was crying too, and so was Mr.

Ballou. Ollendorff got his voice again and forgave me for things I had done and said. Then he got out his

bottle of whisky and said that whether he lived or died he would never touch another drop. He said he had

given up all hope of life, and although illprepared, was ready to submit humbly to his fate; that he wished he

could be spared a little longer, not for any selfish reason, but to make a thorough reform in his character, and

by devoting himself to helping the poor, nursing the sick, and pleading with the people to guard themselves

against the evils of intemperance, make his life a beneficent example to the young, and lay it down at last

with the precious reflection that it had not been lived in vain. He ended by saying that his reform should

begin at this moment, even here in the presence of death, since no longer time was to be vouchsafed wherein

to prosecute it to men's help and benefitand with that he threw away the bottle of whisky.

Mr. Ballou made remarks of similar purport, and began the reform he could not live to continue, by throwing

away the ancient pack of cards that had solaced our captivity during the flood and made it bearable.

He said he never gambled, but still was satisfied that the meddling with cards in any way was immoral and

injurious, and no man could be wholly pure and blemishless without eschewing them. "And therefore,"

continued he, "in doing this act I already feel more in sympathy with that spiritual saturnalia necessary to

entire and obsolete reform." These rolling syllables touched him as no intelligible eloquence could have done,

My own remarks were of the same tenor as those of my comrades, and I know that the feelings that prompted

them were heartfelt and sincere. We were all sincere, and all deeply moved and earnest, for we were in the

presence of death and without hope. I threw away my pipe, and in doing it felt that at last I was free of a

hated vice and one that had ridden me like a tyrant all my days. While I yet talked, the thought of the good I

might have done in the world and the still greater good I might now do, with these new incentives and higher

and better aims to guide me if I could only be spared a few years longer, overcame me and the tears came

again. We put our arms about each other's necks and awaited the warning drowsiness that precedes death by

It came stealing over us presently, and then we bade each other a last farewell. A delicious dreaminess

wrought its web about my yielding senses, while the snowflakes wove a winding sheet about my conquered

I do not know how long I was in a state of forgetfulness, but it seemed an age. A vague consciousness grew

upon me by degrees, and then came a gathering anguish of pain in my limbs and through all my body. I

shuddered. The thought flitted through my brain, "this is deaththis is the hereafter."

It was Ballouat least it was a towzled snow image in a sitting posture, with Ballou's voice.

I rose up, and there in the gray dawn, not fifteen steps from us, were the frame buildings of a stage station,

An arched snowdrift broke up, now, and Ollendorff emerged from it, and the three of us sat and stared at the

houses without speaking a word. We really had nothing to say. We were like the profane man who could not

"do the subject justice," the whole situation was so painfully ridiculous and humiliating that words were tame

The joy in our hearts at our deliverance was poisoned; wellnigh dissipated, indeed. We presently began to

grow pettish by degrees, and sullen; and then, angry at each other, angry at ourselves, angry at everything in

general, we moodily dusted the snow from our clothing and in unsociable single file plowed our way to the

I have scarcely exaggerated a detail of this curious and absurd adventure. It occurred almost exactly as I have

stated it. We actually went into camp in a snowdrift in a desert, at midnight in a storm, forlorn and hopeless,

For two hours we sat apart in the station and ruminated in disgust. The mystery was gone, now, and it was

plain enough why the horses had deserted us. Without a doubt they were under that shed a quarter of a minute

after they had left us, and they must have overheard and enjoyed all our confessions and lamentations.

After breakfast we felt better, and the zest of life soon came back. The world looked bright again, and

existence was as dear to us as ever. Presently an uneasiness came over megrew upon meassailed me

without ceasing. Alas, my regeneration was not completeI wanted to smoke! I resisted with all my

strength, but the flesh was weak. I wandered away alone and wrestled with myself an hour. I recalled my

promises of reform and preached to myself persuasively, upbraidingly, exhaustively. But it was all vain, I

shortly found myself sneaking among the snowdrifts hunting for my pipe. I discovered it after a

considerable search, and crept away to hide myself and enjoy it. I remained behind the barn a good while,

asking myself how I would feel if my braver, stronger, truer comrades should catch me in my degradation. At

last I lit the pipe, and no human being can feel meaner and baser than I did then. I was ashamed of being in

my own pitiful company. Still dreading discovery, I felt that perhaps the further side of the barn would be

somewhat safer, and so I turned the corner. As I turned the one corner, smoking, Ollendorff turned the other

with his bottle to his lips, and between us sat unconscious Ballou deep in a game of "solitaire" with the old

Absurdity could go no farther. We shook hands and agreed to say no more about "reform" and "examples to

The station we were at was at the verge of the TwentysixMile Desert. If we had approached it half an hour

earlier the night before, we must have heard men shouting there and firing pistols; for they were expecting

some sheep drovers and their flocks and knew that they would infallibly get lost and wander out of reach of

While we remained at the station, three of the drovers arrived, nearly exhausted with their wanderings, but

We reached Carson in due time, and took a rest. This rest, together with preparations for the journey to

Esmeralda, kept us there a week, and the delay gave us the opportunity to be present at the trial of the great

landslide case of Hyde vs. Morganan episode which is famous in Nevada to this day. After a word or two

of necessary explanation, I will set down the history of this singular affair just as it transpired.

The mountains are very high and steep about Carson, Eagle and Washoe Valleysvery high and very steep,

and so when the snow gets to melting off fast in the Spring and the warm surfaceearth begins to moisten and

soften, the disastrous landslides commence. The reader cannot know what a landslide is, unless he has

lived in that country and seen the whole side of a mountain taken off some fine morning and deposited down

in the valley, leaving a vast, treeless, unsightly scar upon the mountain's front to keep the circumstance fresh

in his memory all the years that he may go on living within seventy miles of that place.

General Buncombe was shipped out to Nevada in the invoice of Territorial officers, to be United States

Attorney. He considered himself a lawyer of parts, and he very much wanted an opportunity to manifest

itpartly for the pure gratification of it and partly because his salary was Territorially meagre (which is a

strong expression). Now the older citizens of a new territory look down upon the rest of the world with a

calm, benevolent compassion, as long as it keeps out of the waywhen it gets in the way they snub it.

One morning Dick Hyde rode furiously up to General Buncombe's door in Carson city and rushed into his

presence without stopping to tie his horse. He seemed much excited. He told the General that he wanted him

to conduct a suit for him and would pay him five hundred dollars if he achieved a victory. And then, with

violent gestures and a world of profanity, he poured out his grief. He said it was pretty well known that for

some years he had been farming (or ranching as the more customary term is) in Washoe District, and making

a successful thing of it, and furthermore it was known that his ranch was situated just in the edge of the

valley, and that Tom Morgan owned a ranch immediately above it on the mountain side.

And now the trouble was, that one of those hated and dreaded landslides had come and slid Morgan's ranch,

fences, cabins, cattle, barns and everything down on top of his ranch and exactly covered up every single

vestige of his property, to a depth of about thirtyeight feet. Morgan was in possession and refused to vacate

the premisessaid he was occupying his own cabin and not interfering with anybody else'sand said the

cabin was standing on the same dirt and same ranch it had always stood on, and he would like to see anybody

"And when I reminded him," said Hyde, weeping, "that it was on top of my ranch and that he was

trespassing, he had the infernal meanness to ask me why didn't I stay on my ranch and hold possession when

I see him acoming! Why didn't I stay on it, the blathering lunaticby George, when I heard that racket and

looked up that hill it was just like the whole world was aripping and atearing down that mountain side

splinters, and cordwood, thunder and lightning, hail and snow, odds and ends of hay stacks, and awful

clouds of dust!trees going end over end in the air, rocks as big as a house jumping 'bout a thousand feet

high and busting into ten million pieces, cattle turned inside out and acoming head on with their tails

hanging out between their teeth!and in the midst of all that wrack and destruction sot that cussed Morgan

on his gatepost, awondering why I didn't stay and hold possession! Laws bless me, I just took one glimpse,

"But what grinds me is that that Morgan hangs on there and won't move off'n that ranchsays it's his'n and

he's going to keep itlikes it better'n he did when it was higher up the hill. Mad! Well, I've been so mad for

two days I couldn't find my way to townbeen wandering around in the brush in a starving conditiongot

anything here to drink, General? But I'm here now, and I'm agoing to law. You hear me!"

Never in all the world, perhaps, were a man's feelings so outraged as were the General's. He said he had never

heard of such highhanded conduct in all his life as this Morgan's. And he said there was no use in going to

lawMorgan had no shadow of right to remain where he was nobody in the wide world would uphold

him in it, and no lawyer would take his case and no judge listen to it. Hyde said that right there was where he

was mistakeneverybody in town sustained Morgan; Hal Brayton, a very smart lawyer, had taken his case;

the courts being in vacation, it was to be tried before a referee, and exGovernor Roop had already been

appointed to that office and would open his court in a large public hall near the hotel at two that afternoon.

The General was amazed. He said he had suspected before that the people of that Territory were fools, and

now he knew it. But he said rest easy, rest easy and collect the witnesses, for the victory was just as certain as

At two in the afternoon referee Roop's Court opened and Roop appeared throned among his sheriffs, the

witnesses, and spectators, and wearing upon his face a solemnity so aweinspiring that some of his fellow

conspirators had misgivings that maybe he had not comprehended, after all, that this was merely a joke. An

unearthly stillness prevailed, for at the slightest noise the judge uttered sternly the command:

And the sheriffs promptly echoed it. Presently the General elbowed his way through the crowd of spectators,

with his arms full of lawbooks, and on his ears fell an order from the judge which was the first respectful

recognition of his high official dignity that had ever saluted them, and it trickled pleasantly through his whole

The witnesses were calledlegislators, high government officers, ranchmen, miners, Indians, Chinamen,

negroes. Three fourths of them were called by the defendant Morgan, but no matter, their testimony

invariably went in favor of the plaintiff Hyde. Each new witness only added new testimony to the absurdity

of a man's claiming to own another man's property because his farm had slid down on top of it. Then the

Morgan lawyers made their speeches, and seemed to make singularly weak ones they did really nothing to

help the Morgan cause. And now the General, with exultation in his face, got up and made an impassioned

effort; he pounded the table, he banged the lawbooks, he shouted, and roared, and howled, he quoted from

everything and everybody, poetry, sarcasm, statistics, history, pathos, bathos, blasphemy, and wound up with

a grand warwhoop for free speech, freedom of the press, free schools, the Glorious Bird of America and the

When the General sat down, he did it with the conviction that if there was anything in good strong testimony,

a great speech and believing and admiring countenances all around, Mr. Morgan's case was killed. Ex

Governor Roop leant his head upon his hand for some minutes, thinking, and the still audience waited for his

decision. Then he got up and stood erect, with bended head, and thought again. Then he walked the floor with

long, deliberate strides, his chin in his hand, and still the audience waited. At last he returned to his throne,

"Gentlemen, I feel the great responsibility that rests upon me this day. This is no ordinary case. On the

contrary it is plain that it is the most solemn and awful that ever man was called upon to decide. Gentlemen, I

have listened attentively to the evidence, and have perceived that the weight of it, the overwhelming weight

of it, is in favor of the plaintiff Hyde. I have listened also to the remarks of counsel, with high interestand

especially will I commend the masterly and irrefutable logic of the distinguished gentleman who represents

the plaintiff. But gentlemen, let us beware how we allow mere human testimony, human ingenuity in

argument and human ideas of equity, to influence us at a moment so solemn as this. Gentlemen, it ill becomes

us, worms as we are, to meddle with the decrees of Heaven. It is plain to me that Heaven, in its inscrutable

wisdom, has seen fit to move this defendant's ranch for a purpose. We are but creatures, and we must submit.

If Heaven has chosen to favor the defendant Morgan in this marked and wonderful manner; and if Heaven,

dissatisfied with the position of the Morgan ranch upon the mountain side, has chosen to remove it to a

position more eligible and more advantageous for its owner, it ill becomes us, insects as we are, to question

the legality of the act or inquire into the reasons that prompted it. NoHeaven created the ranches and it is

Heaven's prerogative to rearrange them, to experiment with them around at its pleasure. It is for us to submit,

I warn you that this thing which has happened is a thing with which the sacrilegious hands and brains and

tongues of men must not meddle. Gentlemen, it is the verdict of this court that the plaintiff, Richard Hyde,

has been deprived of his ranch by the visitation of God! And from this decision there is no appeal."

Buncombe seized his cargo of lawbooks and plunged out of the courtroom frantic with indignation. He

pronounced Roop to be a miraculous fool, an inspired idiot. In all good faith he returned at night and

remonstrated with Roop upon his extravagant decision, and implored him to walk the floor and think for half

an hour, and see if he could not figure out some sort of modification of the verdict. Roop yielded at last and

got up to walk. He walked two hours and a half, and at last his face lit up happily and he told Buncombe it

had occurred to him that the ranch underneath the new Morgan ranch still belonged to Hyde, that his title to

the ground was just as good as it had ever been, and therefore he was of opinion that Hyde had a right to dig

The General never waited to hear the end of it. He was always an impatient and irascible man, that way. At

the end of two months the fact that he had been played upon with a joke had managed to bore itself, like

When we finally left for Esmeralda, horseback, we had an addition to the company in the person of Capt.

John Nye, the Governor's brother. He had a good memory, and a tongue hung in the middle. This is a

combination which gives immortality to conversation. Capt. John never suffered the talk to flag or falter once

during the hundred and twenty miles of the journey. In addition to his conversational powers, he had one or

two other endowments of a marked character. One was a singular "handiness" about doing anything and

everything, from laying out a railroad or organizing a political party, down to sewing on buttons, shoeing a

horse, or setting a broken leg, or a hen. Another was a spirit of accommodation that prompted him to take the

needs, difficulties and perplexities of anybody and everybody upon his own shoulders at any and all times,

and dispose of them with admirable facility and alacrityhence he always managed to find vacant beds in

crowded inns, and plenty to eat in the emptiest larders. And finally, wherever he met a man, woman or child,

in camp, inn or desert, he either knew such parties personally or had been acquainted with a relative of the

same. Such another traveling comrade was never seen before. I cannot forbear giving a specimen of the way

in which he overcame difficulties. On the second day out, we arrived, very tired and hungry, at a poor little

inn in the desert, and were told that the house was full, no provisions on hand, and neither hay nor barley to

spare for the horsesmust move on. The rest of us wanted to hurry on while it was yet light, but Capt. John

insisted on stopping awhile. We dismounted and entered. There was no welcome for us on any face. Capt.

John began his blandishments, and within twenty minutes he had accomplished the following things, viz.:

found old acquaintances in three teamsters; discovered that he used to go to school with the landlord's

mother; recognized his wife as a lady whose life he had saved once in California, by stopping her runaway

horse; mended a child's broken toy and won the favor of its mother, a guest of the inn; helped the hostler

bleed a horse, and prescribed for another horse that had the "heaves"; treated the entire party three times at

the landlord's bar; produced a later paper than anybody had seen for a week and sat himself down to read the

news to a deeply interested audience. The result, summed up, was as follows: The hostler found plenty of

feed for our horses; we had a trout supper, an exceedingly sociable time after it, good beds to sleep in, and a

surprising breakfast in the morningand when we left, we left lamented by all! Capt. John had some bad

Esmeralda was in many respects another Humboldt, but in a little more forward state. The claims we had

been paying assessments on were entirely worthless, and we threw them away. The principal one cropped out

of the top of a knoll that was fourteen feet high, and the inspired Board of Directors were running a tunnel

under that knoll to strike the ledge. The tunnel would have to be seventy feet long, and would then strike the

ledge at the same dept that a shaft twelve feet deep would have reached! The Board were living on the

"assessments." [N.B.This hint comes too late for the enlightenment of New York silver miners; they have

already learned all about this neat trick by experience.] The Board had no desire to strike the ledge, knowing

that it was as barren of silver as a curbstone. This reminiscence calls to mind Jim Townsend's tunnel. He had

paid assessments on a mine called the "Daley" till he was wellnigh penniless. Finally an assessment was

levied to run a tunnel two hundred and fifty feet on the Daley, and Townsend went up on the hill to look into

He found the Daley cropping out of the apex of an exceedingly sharp pointed peak, and a couple of men up

there "facing" the proposed tunnel. Townsend made a calculation. Then he said to the men:

"So you have taken a contract to run a tunnel into this hill two hundred and fifty feet to strike this ledge?"

"Well, do you know that you have got one of the most expensive and arduous undertakings before you that

"Because this hill is only twentyfive feet through from side to side; and so you have got to build two

We took up various claims, and commenced shafts and tunnels on them, but never finished any of them. We

had to do a certain amount of work on each to "hold" it, else other parties could seize our property after the

expiration of ten days. We were always hunting up new claims and doing a little work on them and then

waiting for a buyerwho never came. We never found any ore that would yield more than fifty dollars a ton;

and as the mills charged fifty dollars a ton for working ore and extracting the silver, our pocketmoney

melted steadily away and none returned to take its place. We lived in a little cabin and cooked for ourselves;

and altogether it was a hard life, though a hopeful onefor we never ceased to expect fortune and a customer

At last, when flour reached a dollar a pound, and money could not be borrowed on the best security at less

than eight per cent a month (I being without the security, too), I abandoned mining and went to milling. That

is to say, I went to work as a common laborer in a quartz mill, at ten dollars a week and board.

I had already learned how hard and long and dismal a task it is to burrow down into the bowels of the earth

and get out the coveted ore; and now I learned that the burrowing was only half the work; and that to get the

silver out of the ore was the dreary and laborious other half of it. We had to turn out at six in the morning and

keep at it till dark. This mill was a sixstamp affair, driven by steam. Six tall, upright rods of iron, as large as

a man's ankle, and heavily shod with a mass of iron and steel at their lower ends, were framed together like a

gate, and these rose and fell, one after the other, in a ponderous dance, in an iron box called a "battery." Each

of these rods or stamps weighed six hundred pounds. One of us stood by the battery all day long, breaking up

masses of silverbearing rock with a sledge and shoveling it into the battery. The ceaseless dance of the

stamps pulverized the rock to powder, and a stream of water that trickled into the battery turned it to a creamy

paste. The minutest particles were driven through a fine wire screen which fitted close around the battery, and

were washed into great tubs warmed by superheated steamamalgamating pans, they are called. The mass

of pulp in the pans was kept constantly stirred up by revolving "mullers." A quantity of quicksilver was kept

always in the battery, and this seized some of the liberated gold and silver particles and held on to them;

quicksilver was shaken in a fine shower into the pans, also, about every half hour, through a buckskin sack.

Quantities of coarse salt and sulphate of copper were added, from time to time to assist the amalgamation by

destroying base metals which coated the gold and silver and would not let it unite with the quicksilver.

All these tiresome things we had to attend to constantly. Streams of dirty water flowed always from the pans

and were carried off in broad wooden troughs to the ravine. One would not suppose that atoms of gold and

silver would float on top of six inches of water, but they did; and in order to catch them, coarse blankets were

laid in the troughs, and little obstructing "riffles" charged with quicksilver were placed here and there across

the troughs also. These riffles had to be cleaned and the blankets washed out every evening, to get their

precious accumulationsand after all this eternity of trouble one third of the silver and gold in a ton of rock

would find its way to the end of the troughs in the ravine at last and have to be worked over again some day.

There is nothing so aggravating as silver milling. There never was any idle time in that mill. There was

always something to do. It is a pity that Adam could not have gone straight out of Eden into a quartz mill, in

order to understand the full force of his doom to "earn his bread by the sweat of his brow." Every now and

then, during the day, we had to scoop some pulp out of the pans, and tediously "wash" it in a horn

spoonwash it little by little over the edge till at last nothing was left but some little dull globules of

quicksilver in the bottom. If they were soft and yielding, the pan needed some salt or some sulphate of copper

or some other chemical rubbish to assist digestion; if they were crisp to the touch and would retain a dint,

they were freighted with all the silver and gold they could seize and hold, and consequently the pan needed a

fresh charge of quicksilver. When there was nothing else to do, one could always "screen tailings." That is to

say, he could shovel up the dried sand that had washed down to the ravine through the troughs and dash it

against an upright wire screen to free it from pebbles and prepare it for working over.

The process of amalgamation differed in the various mills, and this included changes in style of pans and

other machinery, and a great diversity of opinion existed as to the best in use, but none of the methods

employed, involved the principle of milling ore without "screening the tailings." Of all recreations in the

world, screening tailings on a hot day, with a longhandled shovel, is the most undesirable.

At the end of the week the machinery was stopped and we "cleaned up." That is to say, we got the pulp out of

the pans and batteries, and washed the mud patiently away till nothing was left but the long accumulating

mass of quicksilver, with its imprisoned treasures. This we made into heavy, compact snowballs, and piled

them up in a bright, luxurious heap for inspection. Making these snowballs cost me a fine gold ringthat

and ignorance together; for the quicksilver invaded the ring with the same facility with which water saturates

We put our pile of quicksilver balls into an iron retort that had a pipe leading from it to a pail of water, and

then applied a roasting heat. The quicksilver turned to vapor, escaped through the pipe into the pail, and the

water turned it into good wholesome quicksilver again. Quicksilver is very costly, and they never waste it. On

opening the retort, there was our week's worka lump of pure white, frosty looking silver, twice as large as

a man's head. Perhaps a fifth of the mass was gold, but the color of it did not showwould not have shown if

two thirds of it had been gold. We melted it up and made a solid brick of it by pouring it into an iron

By such a tedious and laborious process were silver bricks obtained. This mill was but one of many others in

operation at the time. The first one in Nevada was built at Egan Canyon and was a small insignificant affair

and compared most unfavorably with some of the immense establishments afterwards located at Virginia City

From our bricks a little corner was chipped off for the "fireassay"a method used to determine the

proportions of gold, silver and base metals in the mass. This is an interesting process. The chip is hammered

out as thin as paper and weighed on scales so fine and sensitive that if you weigh a twoinch scrap of paper

on them and then write your name on the paper with a course, soft pencil and weigh it again, the scales will

Then a little lead (also weighed) is rolled up with the flake of silver and the two are melted at a great heat in a

small vessel called a cupel, made by compressing bone ashes into a cupshape in a steel mold. The base

metals oxydize and are absorbed with the lead into the pores of the cupel. A button or globule of perfectly

pure gold and silver is left behind, and by weighing it and noting the loss, the assayer knows the proportion of

base metal the brick contains. He has to separate the gold from the silver now. The button is hammered out

flat and thin, put in the furnace and kept some time at a red heat; after cooling it off it is rolled up like a quill

and heated in a glass vessel containing nitric acid; the acid dissolves the silver and leaves the gold pure and

ready to be weighed on its own merits. Then salt water is poured into the vessel containing the dissolved

silver and the silver returns to palpable form again and sinks to the bottom. Nothing now remains but to

weigh it; then the proportions of the several metals contained in the brick are known, and the assayer stamps

The sagacious reader will know now, without being told, that the speculative miner, in getting a "fireassay"

made of a piece of rock from his mine (to help him sell the same), was not in the habit of picking out the least

valuable fragment of rock on his dumppile, but quite the contrary. I have seen men hunt over a pile of nearly

worthless quartz for an hour, and at last find a little piece as large as a filbert, which was rich in gold and

silverand this was reserved for a fireassay! Of course the fireassay would demonstrate that a ton of such

rock would yield hundreds of dollarsand on such assays many an utterly worthless mine was sold.

Assaying was a good business, and so some men engaged in it, occasionally, who were not strictly scientific

and capable. One assayer got such rich results out of all specimens brought to him that in time he acquired

almost a monopoly of the business. But like all men who achieve success, he became an object of envy and

suspicion. The other assayers entered into a conspiracy against him, and let some prominent citizens into the

secret in order to show that they meant fairly. Then they broke a little fragment off a carpenter's grindstone

and got a stranger to take it to the popular scientist and get it assayed. In the course of an hour the result

camewhereby it appeared that a ton of that rock would yield $1,184.40 in silver and $366.36 in gold!

Due publication of the whole matter was made in the paper, and the popular assayer left town "between two

I will remark, in passing, that I only remained in the milling business one week. I told my employer I could

not stay longer without an advance in my wages; that I liked quartz milling, indeed was infatuated with it;

that I had never before grown so tenderly attached to an occupation in so short a time; that nothing, it seemed

to me, gave such scope to intellectual activity as feeding a battery and screening tailings, and nothing so

stimulated the moral attributes as retorting bullion and washing blanketsstill, I felt constrained to ask an

increase of salary. He said he was paying me ten dollars a week, and thought it a good round sum. How much

I said about four hundred thousand dollars a month, and board, was about all I could reasonably ask,

I was ordered off the premises! And yet, when I look back to those days and call to mind the exceeding

hardness of the labor I performed in that mill, I only regret that I did not ask him seven hundred thousand.

Shortly after this I began to grow crazy, along with the rest of the population, about the mysterious and

wonderful "cement mine," and to make preparations to take advantage of any opportunity that might offer to

It was somewhere in the neighborhood of Mono Lake that the marvellous Whiteman cement mine was

supposed to lie. Every now and then it would be reported that Mr. W. had passed stealthily through

Esmeralda at dead of night, in disguise, and then we would have a wild excitementbecause he must be

steering for his secret mine, and now was the time to follow him. In less than three hours after daylight all the

horses and mules and donkeys in the vicinity would be bought, hired or stolen, and half the community would

be off for the mountains, following in the wake of Whiteman. But W. would drift about through the mountain

gorges for days together, in a purposeless sort of way, until the provisions of the miners ran out, and they

would have to go back home. I have known it reported at eleven at night, in a large mining camp, that

Whiteman had just passed through, and in two hours the streets, so quiet before, would be swarming with

men and animals. Every individual would be trying to be very secret, but yet venturing to whisper to just one

neighbor that W. had passed through. And long before daylightthis in the dead of Winterthe stampede

would be complete, the camp deserted, and the whole population gone chasing after W.

The tradition was that in the early immigration, more than twenty years ago, three young Germans, brothers,

who had survived an Indian massacre on the Plains, wandered on foot through the deserts, avoiding all trails

and roads, and simply holding a westerly direction and hoping to find California before they starved, or died

of fatigue. And in a gorge in the mountains they sat down to rest one day, when one of them noticed a curious

vein of cement running along the ground, shot full of lumps of dull yellow metal. They saw that it was gold,

and that here was a fortune to be acquired in a single day. The vein was about as wide as a curbstone, and

fully two thirds of it was pure gold. Every pound of the wonderful cement was worth wellnigh $200.

Each of the brothers loaded himself with about twentyfive pounds of it, and then they covered up all traces

of the vein, made a rude drawing of the locality and the principal landmarks in the vicinity, and started

westward again. But troubles thickened about them. In their wanderings one brother fell and broke his leg,

and the others were obliged to go on and leave him to die in the wilderness. Another, worn out and starving,

gave up by and by, and laid down to die, but after two or three weeks of incredible hardships, the third

reached the settlements of California exhausted, sick, and his mind deranged by his sufferings. He had thrown

away all his cement but a few fragments, but these were sufficient to set everybody wild with excitement.

However, he had had enough of the cement country, and nothing could induce him to lead a party thither. He

was entirely content to work on a farm for wages. But he gave Whiteman his map, and described the cement

region as well as he could and thus transferred the curse to that gentlemanfor when I had my one

accidental glimpse of Mr. W. in Esmeralda he had been hunting for the lost mine, in hunger and thirst,

poverty and sickness, for twelve or thirteen years. Some people believed he had found it, but most people

believed he had not. I saw a piece of cement as large as my fist which was said to have been given to

Whiteman by the young German, and it was of a seductive nature. Lumps of virgin gold were as thick in it as

raisins in a slice of fruit cake. The privilege of working such a mine one week would be sufficient for a man

A new partner of ours, a Mr. Higbie, knew Whiteman well by sight, and a friend of ours, a Mr. Van Dorn,

was well acquainted with him, and not only that, but had Whiteman's promise that he should have a private

hint in time to enable him to join the next cement expedition. Van Dorn had promised to extend the hint to us.

One evening Higbie came in greatly excited, and said he felt certain he had recognized Whiteman, up town,

disguised and in a pretended state of intoxication. In a little while Van Dorn arrived and confirmed the news;

and so we gathered in our cabin and with heads close together arranged our plans in impressive whispers.

We were to leave town quietly, after midnight, in two or three small parties, so as not to attract attention, and

meet at dawn on the "divide" overlooking Mono Lake, eight or nine miles distant. We were to make no noise

after starting, and not speak above a whisper under any circumstances. It was believed that for once

Whiteman's presence was unknown in the town and his expedition unsuspected. Our conclave broke up at

nine o'clock, and we set about our preparation diligently and with profound secrecy. At eleven o'clock we

saddled our horses, hitched them with their long riatas (or lassos), and then brought out a side of bacon, a

sack of beans, a small sack of coffee, some sugar, a hundred pounds of flour in sacks, some tin cups and a

coffee pot, frying pan and some few other necessary articles. All these things were "packed" on the back of a

led horseand whoever has not been taught, by a Spanish adept, to pack an animal, let him never hope to do

the thing by natural smartness. That is impossible. Higbie had had some experience, but was not perfect. He

put on the pack saddle (a thing like a sawbuck), piled the property on it and then wound a rope all over and

about it and under it, "every which way," taking a hitch in it every now and then, and occasionally surging

back on it till the horse's sides sunk in and he gasped for breathbut every time the lashings grew tight in

one place they loosened in another. We never did get the load tight all over, but we got it so that it would do,

after a fashion, and then we started, in single file, close order, and without a word. It was a dark night. We

kept the middle of the road, and proceeded in a slow walk past the rows of cabins, and whenever a miner

came to his door I trembled for fear the light would shine on us an excite curiosity. But nothing happened.

We began the long winding ascent of the canyon, toward the "divide," and presently the cabins began to grow

infrequent, and the intervals between them wider and wider, and then I began to breathe tolerably freely and

feel less like a thief and a murderer. I was in the rear, leading the pack horse. As the ascent grew steeper he

grew proportionately less satisfied with his cargo, and began to pull back on his riata occasionally and delay

progress. My comrades were passing out of sight in the gloom. I was getting anxious. I coaxed and bullied

the pack horse till I presently got him into a trot, and then the tin cups and pans strung about his person

frightened him and he ran. His riata was wound around the pummel of my saddle, and so, as he went by he

dragged me from my horse and the two animals traveled briskly on without me. But I was not alonethe

loosened cargo tumbled overboard from the pack horse and fell close to me. It was abreast of almost the last

I was thirty steps from him, and knew he could not see me, it was so very dark in the shadow of the

mountain. So I lay still. Another head appeared in the light of the cabin door, and presently the two men

I could not have been in a more distressed state if I had been escaping justice with a price on my head. Then

the miners appeared to sit down on a boulder, though I could not see them distinctly enough to be very sure

"I heard a noise, as plain as I ever heard anything. It seemed to be about there"

A stone whizzed by my head. I flattened myself out in the dust like a postage stamp, and thought to myself if

he mended his aim ever so little he would probably hear another noise. In my heart, now, I execrated secret

expeditions. I promised myself that this should be my last, though the Sierras were ribbed with cement veins.

"I'll tell you what! Welch knew what he was talking about when he said he saw Whiteman today. I heard

They left and I was glad. I did not care whither they went, so they went. I was willing they should visit

As soon as they closed their cabin door my comrades emerged from the gloom; they had caught the horses

and were waiting for a clear coast again. We remounted the cargo on the pack horse and got under way, and

as day broke we reached the "divide" and joined Van Dorn. Then we journeyed down into the valley of the

Lake, and feeling secure, we halted to cook breakfast, for we were tired and sleepy and hungry. Three hours

later the rest of the population filed over the "divide" in a long procession, and drifted off out of sight around

Whether or not my accident had produced this result we never knew, but at least one thing was certainthe

secret was out and Whiteman would not enter upon a search for the cement mine this time. We were filled

We held a council and decided to make the best of our misfortune and enjoy a week's holiday on the borders

of the curious Lake. Mono, it is sometimes called, and sometimes the "Dead Sea of California." It is one of

the strangest freaks of Nature to be found in any land, but it is hardly ever mentioned in print and very

seldom visited, because it lies away off the usual routes of travel and besides is so difficult to get at that only

men content to endure the roughest life will consent to take upon themselves the discomforts of such a trip.

On the morning of our second day, we traveled around to a remote and particularly wild spot on the borders

of the Lake, where a stream of fresh, icecold water entered it from the mountain side, and then we went

regularly into camp. We hired a large boat and two shotguns from a lonely ranchman who lived some ten

miles further on, and made ready for comfort and recreation. We soon got thoroughly acquainted with the

Mono Lake lies in a lifeless, treeless, hideous desert, eight thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is

guarded by mountains two thousand feet higher, whose summits are always clothed in clouds. This solemn,

silent, sailless seathis lonely tenant of the loneliest spot on earth is little graced with the picturesque. It

is an unpretending expanse of grayish water, about a hundred miles in circumference, with two islands in its

centre, mere upheavals of rent and scorched and blistered lava, snowed over with gray banks and drifts of

pumicestone and ashes, the winding sheet of the dead volcano, whose vast crater the lake has seized upon

The lake is two hundred feet deep, and its sluggish waters are so strong with alkali that if you only dip the

most hopelessly soiled garment into them once or twice, and wring it out, it will be found as clean as if it had

been through the ablest of washerwomen's hands. While we camped there our laundry work was easy. We

tied the week's washing astern of our boat, and sailed a quarter of a mile, and the job was complete, all to the

wringing out. If we threw the water on our heads and gave them a rub or so, the white lather would pile up

three inches high. This water is not good for bruised places and abrasions of the skin. We had a valuable dog.

He had raw places on him. He had more raw places on him than sound ones. He was the rawest dog I almost

ever saw. He jumped overboard one day to get away from the flies. But it was bad judgment. In his condition,

The alkali water nipped him in all the raw places simultaneously, and he struck out for the shore with

considerable interest. He yelped and barked and howled as he wentand by the time he got to the shore

there was no bark to himfor he had barked the bark all out of his inside, and the alkali water had cleaned

the bark all off his outside, and he probably wished he had never embarked in any such enterprise. He ran

round and round in a circle, and pawed the earth and clawed the air, and threw double somersaults,

sometimes backward and sometimes forward, in the most extraordinary manner. He was not a demonstrative

dog, as a general thing, but rather of a grave and serious turn of mind, and I never saw him take so much

interest in anything before. He finally struck out over the mountains, at a gait which we estimated at about

two hundred and fifty miles an hour, and he is going yet. This was about nine years ago. We look for what is

A white man cannot drink the water of Mono Lake, for it is nearly pure lye. It is said that the Indians in the

vicinity drink it sometimes, though. It is not improbable, for they are among the purest liars I ever saw.

[There will be no additional charge for this joke, except to parties requiring an explanation of it. This joke has

There are no fish in Mono Lakeno frogs, no snakes, no polliwigs nothing, in fact, that goes to make life

desirable. Millions of wild ducks and seagulls swim about the surface, but no living thing exists under the

surface, except a white feathery sort of worm, one half an inch long, which looks like a bit of white thread

frayed out at the sides. If you dip up a gallon of water, you will get about fifteen thousand of these. They give

to the water a sort of grayishwhite appearance. Then there is a fly, which looks something like our house

fly. These settle on the beach to eat the worms that wash ashoreand any time, you can see there a belt of

flies an inch deep and six feet wide, and this belt extends clear around the lakea belt of flies one hundred

miles long. If you throw a stone among them, they swarm up so thick that they look dense, like a cloud. You

can hold them under water as long as you pleasethey do not mind itthey are only proud of it. When you

let them go, they pop up to the surface as dry as a patent office report, and walk off as unconcernedly as if

they had been educated especially with a view to affording instructive entertainment to man in that particular

way. Providence leaves nothing to go by chance. All things have their uses and their part and proper place in

Nature's economy: the ducks eat the fliesthe flies eat the wormsthe Indians eat all threethe wild cats

Mono Lake is a hundred miles in a straight line from the oceanand between it and the ocean are one or two

ranges of mountainsyet thousands of seagulls go there every season to lay their eggs and rear their young.

One would as soon expect to find seagulls in Kansas. And in this connection let us observe another instance

of Nature's wisdom. The islands in the lake being merely huge masses of lava, coated over with ashes and

pumicestone, and utterly innocent of vegetation or anything that would burn; and seagull's eggs being

entirely useless to anybody unless they be cooked, Nature has provided an unfailing spring of boiling water

on the largest island, and you can put your eggs in there, and in four minutes you can boil them as hard as any

statement I have made during the past fifteen years. Within ten feet of the boiling spring is a spring of pure

So, in that island you get your board and washing free of chargeand if nature had gone further and

furnished a nice American hotel clerk who was crusty and disobliging, and didn't know anything about the

time tables, or the railroad routesoranythingand was proud of itI would not wish for a more

Half a dozen little mountain brooks flow into Mono Lake, but not a stream of any kind flows out of it. It

neither rises nor falls, apparently, and what it does with its surplus water is a dark and bloody mystery.

There are only two seasons in the region round about Mono Lakeand these are, the breaking up of one

Winter and the beginning of the next. More than once (in Esmeralda) I have seen a perfectly blistering

morning open up with the thermometer at ninety degrees at eight o'clock, and seen the snow fall fourteen

inches deep and that same identical thermometer go down to fortyfour degrees under shelter, before nine

o'clock at night. Under favorable circumstances it snows at least once in every single month in the year, in the

little town of Mono. So uncertain is the climate in Summer that a lady who goes out visiting cannot hope to

be prepared for all emergencies unless she takes her fan under one arm and her snow shoes under the other.

When they have a Fourth of July procession it generally snows on them, and they do say that as a general

thing when a man calls for a brandy toddy there, the bar keeper chops it off with a hatchet and wraps it up in

a paper, like maple sugar. And it is further reported that the old soakers haven't any teethwore them out

eating gin cocktails and brandy punches. I do not endorse that statementI simply give it for what it is

worthand it is worthwell, I should say, millions, to any man who can believe it without straining

himself. But I do endorse the snow on the Fourth of Julybecause I know that to be true.

About seven o'clock one blistering hot morningfor it was now dead summer timeHigbie and I took the

boat and started on a voyage of discovery to the two islands. We had often longed to do this, but had been

deterred by the fear of storms; for they were frequent, and severe enough to capsize an ordinary rowboat

like ours without great difficultyand once capsized, death would ensue in spite of the bravest swimming,

for that venomous water would eat a man's eyes out like fire, and burn him out inside, too, if he shipped a sea.

It was called twelve miles, straight out to the islandsa long pull and a warm onebut the morning was so

quiet and sunny, and the lake so smooth and glassy and dead, that we could not resist the temptation. So we

filled two large tin canteens with water (since we were not acquainted with the locality of the spring said to

exist on the large island), and started. Higbie's brawny muscles gave the boat good speed, but by the time we

reached our destination we judged that we had pulled nearer fifteen miles than twelve.

We landed on the big island and went ashore. We tried the water in the canteens, now, and found that the sun

had spoiled it; it was so brackish that we could not drink it; so we poured it out and began a search for the

springfor thirst augments fast as soon as it is apparent that one has no means at hand of quenching it. The

island was a long, moderately high hill of ashesnothing but gray ashes and pumicestone, in which we

sunk to our knees at every stepand all around the top was a forbidding wall of scorched and blasted rocks.

When we reached the top and got within the wall, we found simply a shallow, farreaching basin, carpeted

with ashes, and here and there a patch of fine sand. In places, picturesque jets of steam shot up out of

crevices, giving evidence that although this ancient crater had gone out of active business, there was still

some fire left in its furnaces. Close to one of these jets of steam stood the only tree on the islanda small

pine of most graceful shape and most faultless symmetry; its color was a brilliant green, for the steam drifted

unceasingly through its branches and kept them always moist. It contrasted strangely enough, did this

vigorous and beautiful outcast, with its dead and dismal surroundings. It was like a cheerful spirit in a

We hunted for the spring everywhere, traversing the full length of the island (two or three miles), and

crossing it twiceclimbing ashhills patiently, and then sliding down the other side in a sitting posture,

plowing up smothering volumes of gray dust. But we found nothing but solitude, ashes and a heartbreaking

silence. Finally we noticed that the wind had risen, and we forgot our thirst in a solicitude of greater

importance; for, the lake being quiet, we had not taken pains about securing the boat. We hurried back to a

point overlooking our landing place, and thenbut mere words cannot describe our dismaythe boat was

gone! The chances were that there was not another boat on the entire lake. The situation was not

comfortablein truth, to speak plainly, it was frightful. We were prisoners on a desolate island, in

aggravating proximity to friends who were for the present helpless to aid us; and what was still more

uncomfortable was the reflection that we had neither food nor water. But presently we sighted the boat. It was

drifting along, leisurely, about fifty yards from shore, tossing in a foamy sea. It drifted, and continued to drift,

but at the same safe distance from land, and we walked along abreast it and waited for fortune to favor us. At

the end of an hour it approached a jutting cape, and Higbie ran ahead and posted himself on the utmost verge

and prepared for the assault. If we failed there, there was no hope for us. It was driving gradually shoreward

all the time, now; but whether it was driving fast enough to make the connection or not was the momentous

question. When it got within thirty steps of Higbie I was so excited that I fancied I could hear my own heart

beat. When, a little later, it dragged slowly along and seemed about to go by, only one little yard out of reach,

it seemed as if my heart stood still; and when it was exactly abreast him and began to widen away, and he still

standing like a watching statue, I knew my heart did stop. But when he gave a great spring, the next instant,

But it dulled my enthusiasm, presently, when he told me he had not been caring whether the boat came within

jumping distance or not, so that it passed within eight or ten yards of him, for he had made up his mind to

shut his eyes and mouth and swim that trifling distance. Imbecile that I was, I had not thought of that. It was

The sea was running high and the storm increasing. It was growing late, toothree or four in the afternoon.

Whether to venture toward the mainland or not, was a question of some moment. But we were so distressed

by thirst that we decide to try it, and so Higbie fell to work and I took the steeringoar. When we had pulled a

mile, laboriously, we were evidently in serious peril, for the storm had greatly augmented; the billows ran

very high and were capped with foaming crests, the heavens were hung with black, and the wind blew with

great fury. We would have gone back, now, but we did not dare to turn the boat around, because as soon as

she got in the trough of the sea she would upset, of course. Our only hope lay in keeping her headon to the

seas. It was hard work to do this, she plunged so, and so beat and belabored the billows with her rising and

falling bows. Now and then one of Higbie's oars would trip on the top of a wave, and the other one would

snatch the boat half around in spite of my cumbersome steering apparatus. We were drenched by the sprays

constantly, and the boat occasionally shipped water. By and by, powerful as my comrade was, his great

exertions began to tell on him, and he was anxious that I should change places with him till he could rest a

little. But I told him this was impossible; for if the steering oar were dropped a moment while we changed,

the boat would slue around into the trough of the sea, capsize, and in less than five minutes we would have a

hundred gallons of soap suds in us and be eaten up so quickly that we could not even be present at our own

But things cannot last always. Just as the darkness shut down we came booming into port, head on. Higbie

dropped his oars to hurrahI dropped mine to helpthe sea gave the boat a twist, and over she went!

The agony that alkali water inflicts on bruises, chafes and blistered hands, is unspeakable, and nothing but

greasing all over will modify it but we ate, drank and slept well, that night, notwithstanding.

In speaking of the peculiarities of Mono Lake, I ought to have mentioned that at intervals all around its shores

stand picturesque turretlooking masses and clusters of a whitish, coarsegrained rock that resembles inferior

mortar dried hard; and if one breaks off fragments of this rock he will find perfectly shaped and thoroughly

petrified gulls' eggs deeply imbedded in the mass. How did they get there? I simply state the fact for it is a

factand leave the geological reader to crack the nut at his leisure and solve the problem after his own

At the end of a week we adjourned to the Sierras on a fishing excursion, and spent several days in camp

under snowy Castle Peak, and fished successfully for trout in a bright, miniature lake whose surface was

between ten and eleven thousand feet above the level of the sea; cooling ourselves during the hot August

noons by sitting on snow banks ten feet deep, under whose sheltering edges fine grass and dainty flowers

flourished luxuriously; and at night entertaining ourselves by almost freezing to death. Then we returned to

Mono Lake, and finding that the cement excitement was over for the present, packed up and went back to

Esmeralda. Mr. Ballou reconnoitred awhile, and not liking the prospect, set out alone for Humboldt.

About this time occurred a little incident which has always had a sort of interest to me, from the fact that it

came so near "instigating" my funeral. At a time when an Indian attack had been expected, the citizens hid

their gunpowder where it would be safe and yet convenient to hand when wanted. A neighbor of ours hid six

cans of rifle powder in the bakeoven of an old discarded cooking stove which stood on the open ground near

a frame outhouse or shed, and from and after that day never thought of it again. We hired a halftamed

Indian to do some washing for us, and he took up quarters under the shed with his tub. The ancient stove

reposed within six feet of him, and before his face. Finally it occurred to him that hot water would be better

than cold, and he went out and fired up under that forgotten powder magazine and set on a kettle of water.

I entered the shed presently and threw down some more clothes, and was about to speak to him when the

stove blew up with a prodigious crash, and disappeared, leaving not a splinter behind. Fragments of it fell in

the streets full two hundred yards away. Nearly a third of the shed roof over our heads was destroyed, and

one of the stove lids, after cutting a small stanchion half in two in front of the Indian, whizzed between us and

drove partly through the weatherboarding beyond. I was as white as a sheet and as weak as a kitten and

speechless. But the Indian betrayed no trepidation, no distress, not even discomfort. He simply stopped

washing, leaned forward and surveyed the clean, blank ground a moment, and then remarked:

"Mph! Dam stove heap gone!"and resumed his scrubbing as placidly as if it were an entirely customary

thing for a stove to do. I will explain, that "heap" is "InjunEnglish" for "very much." The reader will

I now come to a curious episodethe most curious, I think, that had yet accented my slothful, valueless,

heedless career. Out of a hillside toward the upper end of the town, projected a wall of reddish looking

quartzcroppings, the exposed comb of a silverbearing ledge that extended deep down into the earth, of

course. It was owned by a company entitled the "Wide West." There was a shaft sixty or seventy feet deep on

the under side of the croppings, and everybody was acquainted with the rock that came from itand

tolerably rich rock it was, too, but nothing extraordinary. I will remark here, that although to the

inexperienced stranger all the quartz of a particular "district" looks about alike, an old resident of the camp

can take a glance at a mixed pile of rock, separate the fragments and tell you which mine each came from, as

easily as a confectioner can separate and classify the various kinds and qualities of candy in a mixed heap of

All at once the town was thrown into a state of extraordinary excitement. In mining parlance the Wide West

had "struck it rich!" Everybody went to see the new developments, and for some days there was such a crowd

of people about the Wide West shaft that a stranger would have supposed there was a mass meeting in session

there. No other topic was discussed but the rich strike, and nobody thought or dreamed about anything else.

Every man brought away a specimen, ground it up in a hand mortar, washed it out in his horn spoon, and

glared speechless upon the marvelous result. It was not hard rock, but black, decomposed stuff which could

be crumbled in the hand like a baked potato, and when spread out on a paper exhibited a thick sprinkling of

gold and particles of "native" silver. Higbie brought a handful to the cabin, and when he had washed it out his

amazement was beyond description. Wide West stock soared skywards. It was said that repeated offers had

been made for it at a thousand dollars a foot, and promptly refused. We have all had the "blues"the mere

sky bluesbut mine were indigo, nowbecause I did not own in the Wide West. The world seemed

hollow to me, and existence a grief. I lost my appetite, and ceased to take an interest in anything. Still I had to

stay, and listen to other people's rejoicings, because I had no money to get out of the camp with.

The Wide West company put a stop to the carrying away of "specimens," and well they might, for every

handful of the ore was worth a sun of some consequence. To show the exceeding value of the ore, I will

remark that a sixteenhundredpounds parcel of it was sold, just as it lay, at the mouth of the shaft, at one

dollar a pound; and the man who bought it "packed" it on mules a hundred and fifty or two hundred miles,

over the mountains, to San Francisco, satisfied that it would yield at a rate that would richly compensate him

for his trouble. The Wide West people also commanded their foreman to refuse any but their own operatives

permission to enter the mine at any time or for any purpose. I kept up my "blue" meditations and Higbie kept

up a deal of thinking, too, but of a different sort. He puzzled over the "rock," examined it with a glass,

inspected it in different lights and from different points of view, and after each experiment delivered himself,

in soliloquy, of one and the same unvarying opinion in the same unvarying formula:

He said once or twice that he meant to have a look into the Wide West shaft if he got shot for it. I was

wretched, and did not care whether he got a look into it or not. He failed that day, and tried again at night;

failed again; got up at dawn and tried, and failed again. Then he lay in ambush in the sage brush hour after

hour, waiting for the two or three hands to adjourn to the shade of a boulder for dinner; made a start once, but

was prematureone of the men came back for something; tried it again, but when almost at the mouth of the

shaft, another of the men rose up from behind the boulder as if to reconnoitre, and he dropped on the ground

and lay quiet; presently he crawled on his hands and knees to the mouth of the shaft, gave a quick glance

He disappeared in the gloom of a "side drift" just as a head appeared in the mouth of the shaft and somebody

shouted "Hello!"which he did not answer. He was not disturbed any more. An hour later he entered the

cabin, hot, red, and ready to burst with smothered excitement, and exclaimed in a stage whisper:

I thought the very earth reeled under me. Doubtconvictiondoubt againexultationhope, amazement,

belief, unbeliefevery emotion imaginable swept in wild procession through my heart and brain, and I could

not speak a word. After a moment or two of this mental fury, I shook myself to rights, and said:

"Cal, let'slet's burn the houseor kill somebody! Let's get out where there's room to hurrah! But what is

"It's a blind lead, for a million!hanging wallfoot wallclay casingseverything complete!" He swung

his hat and gave three cheers, and I cast doubt to the winds and chimed in with a will. For I was worth a

But perhaps I ought to explain. A "blind lead" is a lead or ledge that does not "crop out" above the surface. A

miner does not know where to look for such leads, but they are often stumbled upon by accident in the course

of driving a tunnel or sinking a shaft. Higbie knew the Wide West rock perfectly well, and the more he had

examined the new developments the more he was satisfied that the ore could not have come from the Wide

West vein. And so had it occurred to him alone, of all the camp, that there was a blind lead down in the shaft,

and that even the Wide West people themselves did not suspect it. He was right. When he went down the

shaft, he found that the blind lead held its independent way through the Wide West vein, cutting it diagonally,

and that it was enclosed in its own welldefined casingrocks and clay. Hence it was public property. Both

leads being perfectly well defined, it was easy for any miner to see which one belonged to the Wide West and

We thought it well to have a strong friend, and therefore we brought the foreman of the Wide West to our

"We are going to take possession of this blind lead, record it and establish ownership, and then forbid the

Wide West company to take out any more of the rock. You cannot help your company in this matter

nobody can help them. I will go into the shaft with you and prove to your entire satisfaction that it is a blind

lead. Now we propose to take you in with us, and claim the blind lead in our three names. What do you say?"

What could a man say who had an opportunity to simply stretch forth his hand and take possession of a

fortune without risk of any kind and without wronging any one or attaching the least taint of dishonor to his

The notice was put up that night, and duly spread upon the recorder's books before ten o'clock. We claimed

two hundred feet eachsix hundred feet in allthe smallest and compactest organization in the district, and

No one can be so thoughtless as to suppose that we slept, that night. Higbie and I went to bed at midnight, but

it was only to lie broad awake and think, dream, scheme. The floorless, tumbledown cabin was a palace, the

ragged gray blankets silk, the furniture rosewood and mahogany. Each new splendor that burst out of my

visions of the future whirled me bodily over in bed or jerked me to a sitting posture just as if an electric

battery had been applied to me. We shot fragments of conversation back and forth at each other. Once Higbie

"Tomorrow!"with an evolution or two, ending with a sitting position. "Wellnobut next month, at

"Brown stone frontFrench plate glassbilliardroom off the dining roomstatuary and

paintingsshrubbery and twoacre grass plat greenhouseiron dog on the front stoopgray

"All parts. France, England, GermanySpain, Italy, Switzerland, Syria, Greece, Palestine, Arabia, Persia,

"Higbie, we owe the butcher six dollars, and he has been threatening to stop our"

And so it went on. By three o'clock we found it was no use, and so we got up and played cribbage and

smoked pipes till sunrise. It was my week to cook. I always hated cookingnow, I abhorred it.

The news was all over town. The former excitement was greatthis one was greater still. I walked the streets

serene and happy. Higbie said the foreman had been offered two hundred thousand dollars for his third of the

mine. I said I would like to see myself selling for any such price. My ideas were lofty. My figure was a

million. Still, I honestly believe that if I had been offered it, it would have had no other effect than to make

I found abundant enjoyment in being rich. A man offered me a three hundreddollar horse, and wanted to

take my simple, unendorsed note for it. That brought the most realizing sense I had yet had that I was actually

rich, beyond shadow of doubt. It was followed by numerous other evidences of a similar natureamong

which I may mention the fact of the butcher leaving us a double supply of meat and saying nothing about

By the laws of the district, the "locators" or claimants of a ledge were obliged to do a fair and reasonable

amount of work on their new property within ten days after the date of the location, or the property was

forfeited, and anybody could go and seize it that chose. So we determined to go to work the next day. About

the middle of the afternoon, as I was coming out of the post office, I met a Mr. Gardiner, who told me that

Capt. John Nye was lying dangerously ill at his place (the "NineMile Ranch"), and that he and his wife were

not able to give him nearly as much care and attention as his case demanded. I said if he would wait for me a

moment, I would go down and help in the sick room. I ran to the cabin to tell Higbie. He was not there, but I

left a note on the table for him, and a few minutes later I left town in Gardiner's wagon.

Captain Nye was very ill indeed, with spasmodic rheumatism. But the old gentleman was himselfwhich is

to say, he was kindhearted and agreeable when comfortable, but a singularly violent wildcat when things

did not go well. He would be smiling along pleasantly enough, when a sudden spasm of his disease would

take him and he would go out of his smile into a perfect fury. He would groan and wail and howl with the

anguish, and fill up the odd chinks with the most elaborate profanity that strong convictions and a fine fancy

could contrive. With fair opportunity he could swear very well and handle his adjectives with considerable

judgment; but when the spasm was on him it was painful to listen to him, he was so awkward. However, I

had seen him nurse a sick man himself and put up patiently with the inconveniences of the situation, and

consequently I was willing that he should have full license now that his own turn had come. He could not

disturb me, with all his raving and ranting, for my mind had work on hand, and it labored on diligently, night

and day, whether my hands were idle or employed. I was altering and amending the plans for my house, and

thinking over the propriety of having the billardroom in the attic, instead of on the same floor with the

diningroom; also, I was trying to decide between green and blue for the upholstery of the drawingroom,

for, although my preference was blue I feared it was a color that would be too easily damaged by dust and

sunlight; likewise while I was content to put the coachman in a modest livery, I was uncertain about a

footmanI needed one, and was even resolved to have one, but wished he could properly appear and

perform his functions out of livery, for I somewhat dreaded so much show; and yet, inasmuch as my late

grandfather had had a coachman and such things, but no liveries, I felt rather drawn to beat him;or beat his

ghost, at any rate; I was also systematizing the European trip, and managed to get it all laid out, as to route

and length of time to be devoted to it everything, with one exceptionnamely, whether to cross the desert

from Cairo to Jerusalem per camel, or go by sea to Beirut, and thence down through the country per caravan.

Meantime I was writing to the friends at home every day, instructing them concerning all my plans and

intentions, and directing them to look up a handsome homestead for my mother and agree upon a price for it

against my coming, and also directing them to sell my share of the Tennessee land and tender the proceeds to

the widows' and orphans' fund of the typographical union of which I had long been a member in good

standing. [This Tennessee land had been in the possession of the family many years, and promised to confer

high fortune upon us some day; it still promises it, but in a less violent way.]

When I had been nursing the Captain nine days he was somewhat better, but very feeble. During the

afternoon we lifted him into a chair and gave him an alcoholic vapor bath, and then set about putting him on

the bed again. We had to be exceedingly careful, for the least jar produced pain. Gardiner had his shoulders

and I his legs; in an unfortunate moment I stumbled and the patient fell heavily on the bed in an agony of

torture. I never heard a man swear so in my life. He raved like a maniac, and tried to snatch a revolver from

the tablebut I got it. He ordered me out of the house, and swore a world of oaths that he would kill me

wherever he caught me when he got on his feet again. It was simply a passing fury, and meant nothing. I

knew he would forget it in an hour, and maybe be sorry for it, too; but it angered me a little, at the moment.

So much so, indeed, that I determined to go back to Esmeralda. I thought he was able to get along alone, now,

since he was on the war path. I took supper, and as soon as the moon rose, began my ninemile journey, on

Even millionaires needed no horses, in those days, for a mere ninemile jaunt without baggage.

As I "raised the hill" overlooking the town, it lacked fifteen minutes of twelve. I glanced at the hill over

beyond the canyon, and in the bright moonlight saw what appeared to be about half the population of the

village massed on and around the Wide West croppings. My heart gave an exulting bound, and I said to

myself, "They have made a new strike to nightand struck it richer than ever, no doubt." I started over

there, but gave it up. I said the "strick" would keep, and I had climbed hill enough for one night. I went on

down through the town, and as I was passing a little German bakery, a woman ran out and begged me to

come in and help her. She said her husband had a fit. I went in, and judged she was righthe appeared to

have a hundred of them, compressed into one. Two Germans were there, trying to hold him, and not making

much of a success of it. I ran up the street half a block or so and routed out a sleeping doctor, brought him

down half dressed, and we four wrestled with the maniac, and doctored, drenched and bled him, for more

than an hour, and the poor German woman did the crying. He grew quiet, now, and the doctor and I withdrew

It was a little after one o'clock. As I entered the cabin door, tired but jolly, the dingy light of a tallow candle

revealed Higbie, sitting by the pine table gazing stupidly at my note, which he held in his fingers, and looking

pale, old, and haggard. I halted, and looked at him. He looked at me, stolidly. I said:

It was enough. I sat down sick, grievedbrokenhearted, indeed. A minute before, I was rich and brimful of

vanity; I was a pauper now, and very meek. We sat still an hour, busy with thought, busy with vain and

useless selfupbraidings, busy with "Why didn't I do this, and why didn't I do that," but neither spoke a word.

Then we dropped into mutual explanations, and the mystery was cleared away. It came out that Higbie had

depended on me, as I had on him, and as both of us had on the foreman. The folly of it! It was the first time

that ever staid and steadfast Higbie had left an important matter to chance or failed to be true to his full share

But he had never seen my note till this moment, and this moment was the first time he had been in the cabin

since the day he had seen me last. He, also, had left a note for me, on that same fatal afternoonhad ridden

up on horseback, and looked through the window, and being in a hurry and not seeing me, had tossed the note

into the cabin through a broken pane. Here it was, on the floor, where it had remained undisturbed for nine

That was the way of it. An old miner, like Higbie, could no more withstand the fascination of a mysterious

mining excitement like this "cement" foolishness, than he could refrain from eating when he was famishing.

Higbie had been dreaming about the marvelous cement for months; and now, against his better judgment, he

had gone off and "taken the chances" on my keeping secure a mine worth a million undiscovered cement

veins. They had not been followed this time. His riding out of town in broad daylight was such a

commonplace thing to do that it had not attracted any attention. He said they prosecuted their search in the

fastnesses of the mountains during nine days, without success; they could not find the cement. Then a ghastly

fear came over him that something might have happened to prevent the doing of the necessary work to hold

the blind lead (though indeed he thought such a thing hardly possible), and forthwith he started home with all

speed. He would have reached Esmeralda in time, but his horse broke down and he had to walk a great part of

the distance. And so it happened that as he came into Esmeralda by one road, I entered it by another. His was

the superior energy, however, for he went straight to the Wide West, instead of turning aside as I had

doneand he arrived there about five or ten minutes too late! The "notice" was already up, the "relocation"

of our mine completed beyond recall, and the crowd rapidly dispersing. He learned some facts before he left

the ground. The foreman had not been seen about the streets since the night we had located the minea

telegram had called him to California on a matter of life and death, it was said. At any rate he had done no

work and the watchful eyes of the community were taking note of the fact. At midnight of this woful tenth

day, the ledge would be "relocatable," and by eleven o'clock the hill was black with men prepared to do the

relocating. That was the crowd I had seen when I fancied a new "strike" had been madeidiot that I was.

[We three had the same right to relocate the lead that other people had, provided we were quick enough.] As

midnight was announced, fourteen men, duly armed and ready to back their proceedings, put up their "notice"

and proclaimed their ownership of the blind lead, under the new name of the "Johnson." But A. D. Allen our

partner (the foreman) put in a sudden appearance about that time, with a cocked revolver in his hand, and said

his name must be added to the list, or he would "thin out the Johnson company some." He was a manly,

splendid, determined fellow, and known to be as good as his word, and therefore a compromise was effected.

They put in his name for a hundred feet, reserving to themselves the customary two hundred feet each. Such

was the history of the night's events, as Higbie gathered from a friend on the way home.

Higbie and I cleared out on a new mining excitement the next morning, glad to get away from the scene of

our sufferings, and after a month or two of hardship and disappointment, returned to Esmeralda once more.

Then we learned that the Wide West and the Johnson companies had consolidated; that the stock, thus united,

comprised five thousand feet, or shares; that the foreman, apprehending tiresome litigation, and considering

such a huge concern unwieldy, had sold his hundred feet for ninety thousand dollars in gold and gone home

to the States to enjoy it. If the stock was worth such a gallant figure, with five thousand shares in the

corporation, it makes me dizzy to think what it would have been worth with only our original six hundred in

it. It was the difference between six hundred men owning a house and five thousand owning it. We would

have been millionaires if we had only worked with pick and spade one little day on our property and so

It reads like a wild fancy sketch, but the evidence of many witnesses, and likewise that of the official records

of Esmeralda District, is easily obtainable in proof that it is a true history. I can always have it to say that I

A year ago my esteemed and in every way estimable old millionaire partner, Higbie, wrote me from an

obscure little mining camp in California that after nine or ten years of buffetings and hard striving, he was at

last in a position where he could command twentyfive hundred dollars, and said he meant to go into the fruit

business in a modest way. How such a thought would have insulted him the night we lay in our cabin

It was a momentous question. I had gone out into the world to shift for myself, at the age of thirteen (for my

father had endorsed for friends; and although he left us a sumptuous legacy of pride in his fine Virginian

stock and its national distinction, I presently found that I could not live on that alone without occasional

bread to wash it down with). I had gained a livelihood in various vocations, but had not dazzled anybody with

my successes; still the list was before me, and the amplest liberty in the matter of choosing, provided I

wanted to workwhich I did not, after being so wealthy. I had once been a grocery clerk, for one day, but

had consumed so much sugar in that time that I was relieved from further duty by the proprietor; said he

wanted me outside, so that he could have my custom. I had studied law an entire week, and then given it up

because it was so prosy and tiresome. I had engaged briefly in the study of blacksmithing, but wasted so

much time trying to fix the bellows so that it would blow itself, that the master turned me adrift in disgrace,

and told me I would come to no good. I had been a bookseller's clerk for awhile, but the customers bothered

me so much I could not read with any comfort, and so the proprietor gave me a furlough and forgot to put a

limit to it. I had clerked in a drug store part of a summer, but my prescriptions were unlucky, and we

appeared to sell more stomach pumps than soda water. So I had to go. I had made of myself a tolerable

printer, under the impression that I would be another Franklin some day, but somehow had missed the

connection thus far. There was no berth open in the Esmeralda Union, and besides I had always been such a

slow compositor that I looked with envy upon the achievements of apprentices of two years' standing; and

when I took a "take," foremen were in the habit of suggesting that it would be wanted "some time during the

I was a good average St. Louis and New Orleans pilot and by no means ashamed of my abilities in that line;

wages were two hundred and fifty dollars a month and no board to pay, and I did long to stand behind a

wheel again and never roam any morebut I had been making such an ass of myself lately in grandiloquent

letters home about my blind lead and my European excursion that I did what many and many a poor

disappointed miner had done before; said "It is all over with me now, and I will never go back home to be

pitiedand snubbed." I had been a private secretary, a silver miner and a silver mill operative, and amounted

I yielded to Higbie's appeals and consented to try the mining once more. We climbed far up on the mountain

side and went to work on a little rubbishy claim of ours that had a shaft on it eight feet deep. Higbie

descended into it and worked bravely with his pick till he had loosened up a deal of rock and dirt and then I

went down with a longhandled shovel (the most awkward invention yet contrived by man) to throw it out.

You must brace the shovel forward with the side of your knee till it is full, and then, with a skilful toss, throw

it backward over your left shoulder. I made the toss, and landed the mess just on the edge of the shaft and it

all came back on my head and down the back of my neck. I never said a word, but climbed out and walked

home. I inwardly resolved that I would starve before I would make a target of myself and shoot rubbish at it

I sat down, in the cabin, and gave myself up to solid miseryso to speak. Now in pleasanter days I had

amused myself with writing letters to the chief paper of the Territory, the Virginia Daily Territorial

Enterprise, and had always been surprised when they appeared in print. My good opinion of the editors had

steadily declined; for it seemed to me that they might have found something better to fill up with than my

literature. I had found a letter in the post office as I came home from the hill side, and finally I opened it.

Eureka! [I never did know what Eureka meant, but it seems to be as proper a word to heave in as any when

no other that sounds pretty offers.] It was a deliberate offer to me of TwentyFive Dollars a week to come up

I would have challenged the publisher in the "blind lead" daysI wanted to fall down and worship him, now.

TwentyFive Dollars a weekit looked like bloated luxurya fortune a sinful and lavish waste of money.

But my transports cooled when I thought of my inexperience and consequent unfitness for the positionand

straightway, on top of this, my long array of failures rose up before me. Yet if I refused this place I must

presently become dependent upon somebody for my bread, a thing necessarily distasteful to a man who had

never experienced such a humiliation since he was thirteen years old. Not much to be proud of, since it is so

commonbut then it was all I had to be proud of. So I was scared into being a city editor. I would have

declined, otherwise. Necessity is the mother of "taking chances." I do not doubt that if, at that time, I had

been offered a salary to translate the Talmud from the original Hebrew, I would have acceptedalbeit with

diffidence and some misgivingsand thrown as much variety into it as I could for the money.

I went up to Virginia and entered upon my new vocation. I was a rusty looking city editor, I am free to

confesscoatless, slouch hat, blue woolen shirt, pantaloons stuffed into boottops, whiskered half down to

the waist, and the universal navy revolver slung to my belt. But I secured a more Christian costume and

I had never had occasion to kill anybody, nor ever felt a desire to do so, but had worn the thing in deference

to popular sentiment, and in order that I might not, by its absence, be offensively conspicuous, and a subject

of remark. But the other editors, and all the printers, carried revolvers. I asked the chief editor and proprietor

(Mr. Goodman, I will call him, since it describes him as well as any name could do) for some instructions

with regard to my duties, and he told me to go all over town and ask all sorts of people all sorts of questions,

make notes of the information gained, and write them out for publication. And he added:

"Never say 'We learn' soandso, or 'It is reported, or 'It is rumored,' or 'We understand' soandso, but go to

headquarters and get the absolute facts, and then speak out and say 'It is soandso." Otherwise, people will

not put confidence in your news. Unassailable certainly is the thing that gives a newspaper the firmest and

It was the whole thing in a nutshell; and to this day when I find a reporter commencing his article with "We

understand," I gather a suspicion that he has not taken as much pains to inform himself as he ought to have

done. I moralize well, but I did not always practise well when I was a city editor; I let fancy get the upper

hand of fact too often when there was a dearth of news. I can never forget my first day's experience as a

reporter. I wandered about town questioning everybody, boring everybody, and finding out that nobody knew

anything. At the end of five hours my notebook was still barren. I spoke to Mr. Goodman. He said:

"Dan used to make a good thing out of the hay wagons in a dry time when there were no fires or inquests. Are

there no hay wagons in from the Truckee? If there are, you might speak of the renewed activity and all that

I canvassed the city again and found one wretched old hay truck dragging in from the country. But I made

affluent use of it. I multiplied it by sixteen, brought it into town from sixteen different directions, made

sixteen separate items out of it, and got up such another sweat about hay as Virginia City had never seen in

This was encouraging. Two nonpareil columns had to be filled, and I was getting along. Presently, when

things began to look dismal again, a desperado killed a man in a saloon and joy returned once more. I never

"Sir, you are a stranger to me, but you have done me a kindness this day which I can never forget. If whole

years of gratitude can be to you any slight compensation, they shall be yours. I was in trouble and you have

relieved me nobly and at a time when all seemed dark and drear. Count me your friend from this time forth,

If I did not really say that to him I at least felt a sort of itching desire to do it. I wrote up the murder with a

hungry attention to details, and when it was finished experienced but one regretnamely, that they had not

Next I discovered some emigrant wagons going into camp on the plaza and found that they had lately come

through the hostile Indian country and had fared rather roughly. I made the best of the item that the

circumstances permitted, and felt that if I were not confined within rigid limits by the presence of the

reporters of the other papers I could add particulars that would make the article much more interesting.

However, I found one wagon that was going on to California, and made some judicious inquiries of the

proprietor. When I learned, through his short and surly answers to my crossquestioning, that he was

certainly going on and would not be in the city next day to make trouble, I got ahead of the other papers, for I

took down his list of names and added his party to the killed and wounded. Having more scope here, I put

My two columns were filled. When I read them over in the morning I felt that I had found my legitimate

occupation at last. I reasoned within myself that news, and stirring news, too, was what a paper needed, and I

felt that I was peculiarly endowed with the ability to furnish it. Mr. Goodman said that I was as good a

reporter as Dan. I desired no higher commendation. With encouragement like that, I felt that I could take my

pen and murder all the immigrants on the plains if need be and the interests of the paper demanded it.

However, as I grew better acquainted with the business and learned the run of the sources of information I

ceased to require the aid of fancy to any large extent, and became able to fill my columns without diverging

I struck up friendships with the reporters of the other journals, and we swapped "regulars" with each other

and thus economized work. "Regulars" are permanent sources of news, like courts, bullion returns,

"cleanups" at the quartz mills, and inquests. Inasmuch as everybody went armed, we had an inquest about

every day, and so this department was naturally set down among the "regulars." We had lively papers in those

days. My great competitor among the reporters was Boggs of the Union. He was an excellent reporter. Once

in three or four months he would get a little intoxicated, but as a general thing he was a wary and cautious

drinker although always ready to tamper a little with the enemy. He had the advantage of me in one thing; he

could get the monthly public school report and I could not, because the principal hated the Enterprise. One

snowy night when the report was due, I started out sadly wondering how I was going to get it. Presently, a

few steps up the almost deserted street I stumbled on Boggs and asked him where he was going.

A saloonkeeper's boy passed by with a steaming pitcher of hot punch, and Boggs snuffed the fragrance

gratefully. He gazed fondly after the boy and saw him start up the Enterprise stairs. I said:

"I wish you could help me get that school business, but since you can't, I must run up to the Union office and

see if I can get them to let me have a proof of it after they have set it up, though I don't begin to suppose they

"Hold on a minute. I don't mind getting the report and sitting around with the boys a little, while you copy it,

We plowed a couple of blocks through the snow, got the report and returned to our office. It was a short

document and soon copied. Meantime Boggs helped himself to the punch. I gave the manuscript back to him

and we started out to get an inquest, for we heard pistol shots near by. We got the particulars with little loss

of time, for it was only an inferior sort of barroom murder, and of little interest to the public, and then we

separated. Away at three o'clock in the morning, when we had gone to press and were having a relaxing

concert as usual for some of the printers were good singers and others good performers on the guitar and

on that atrocity the accordionthe proprietor of the Union strode in and desired to know if anybody had

heard anything of Boggs or the school report. We stated the case, and all turned out to help hunt for the

delinquent. We found him standing on a table in a saloon, with an old tin lantern in one hand and the school

report in the other, haranguing a gang of intoxicated Cornish miners on the iniquity of squandering the public

moneys on education "when hundreds and hundreds of honest hardworking men are literally starving for

whiskey." [Riotous applause.] He had been assisting in a regal spree with those parties for hours. We dragged

Of course there was no school report in the Union, and Boggs held me accountable, though I was innocent of

any intention or desire to compass its absence from that paper and was as sorry as any one that the misfortune

But we were perfectly friendly. The day that the school report was next due, the proprietor of the "Genessee"

mine furnished us a buggy and asked us to go down and write something about the propertya very

common request and one always gladly acceded to when people furnished buggies, for we were as fond of

pleasure excursions as other people. In due time we arrived at the "mine"nothing but a hole in the ground

ninety feet deep, and no way of getting down into it but by holding on to a rope and being lowered with a

windlass. The workmen had just gone off somewhere to dinner. I was not strong enough to lower Boggs's

bulk; so I took an unlighted candle in my teeth, made a loop for my foot in the end of the rope, implored

Boggs not to go to sleep or let the windlass get the start of him, and then swung out over the shaft. I reached

the bottom muddy and bruised about the elbows, but safe. I lit the candle, made an examination of the rock,

selected some specimens and shouted to Boggs to hoist away. No answer. Presently a head appeared in the

And he did. I staid down there an hour, and surprised the workmen when they hauled up and found a man on

the rope instead of a bucket of rock. I walked home, toofive milesup hill. We had no school report next

Six months after my entry into journalism the grand "flush times" of Silverland began, and they continued

with unabated splendor for three years. All difficulty about filling up the "local department" ceased, and the

only trouble now was how to make the lengthened columns hold the world of incidents and happenings that

came to our literary net every day. Virginia had grown to be the "livest" town, for its age and population, that

America had ever produced. The sidewalks swarmed with peopleto such an extent, indeed, that it was

generally no easy matter to stem the human tide. The streets themselves were just as crowded with quartz

wagons, freight teams and other vehicles. The procession was endless. So great was the pack, that buggies

frequently had to wait half an hour for an opportunity to cross the principal street. Joy sat on every

countenance, and there was a glad, almost fierce, intensity in every eye, that told of the moneygetting

schemes that were seething in every brain and the high hope that held sway in every heart. Money was as

plenty as dust; every individual considered himself wealthy, and a melancholy countenance was nowhere to

be seen. There were military companies, fire companies, brass bands, banks, hotels, theatres, "hurdy gurdy

houses," wideopen gambling palaces, political powwows, civic processions, street fights, murders,

inquests, riots, a whiskey mill every fifteen steps, a Board of Aldermen, a Mayor, a City Surveyor, a City

Engineer, a Chief of the Fire Department, with First, Second and Third Assistants, a Chief of Police, City

Marshal and a large police force, two Boards of Mining Brokers, a dozen breweries and half a dozen jails and

stationhouses in full operation, and some talk of building a church. The "flush times" were in magnificent

flower! Large fireproof brick buildings were going up in the principal streets, and the wooden suburbs were

spreading out in all directions. Town lots soared up to prices that were amazing.

The great "Comstock lode" stretched its opulent length straight through the town from north to south, and

every mine on it was in diligent process of development. One of these mines alone employed six hundred and

seventyfive men, and in the matter of elections the adage was, "as the 'Gould and Curry' goes, so goes the

city." Laboring men's wages were four and six dollars a day, and they worked in three "shifts" or gangs, and

The "city" of Virginia roosted royally midway up the steep side of Mount Davidson, seven thousand two

hundred feet above the level of the sea, and in the clear Nevada atmosphere was visible from a distance of

fifty miles! It claimed a population of fifteen thousand to eighteen thousand, and all day long half of this little

army swarmed the streets like bees and the other half swarmed among the drifts and tunnels of the

"Comstock," hundreds of feet down in the earth directly under those same streets. Often we felt our chairs jar,

and heard the faint boom of a blast down in the bowels of the earth under the office.

The mountain side was so steep that the entire town had a slant to it like a roof. Each street was a terrace, and

from each to the next street below the descent was forty or fifty feet. The fronts of the houses were level with

the street they faced, but their rear first floors were propped on lofty stilts; a man could stand at a rear first

floor window of a C street house and look down the chimneys of the row of houses below him facing D

street. It was a laborious climb, in that thin atmosphere, to ascend from D to A street, and you were panting

and out of breath when you got there; but you could turn around and go down again like a house afireso

to speak. The atmosphere was so rarified, on account of the great altitude, that one's blood lay near the

surface always, and the scratch of a pin was a disaster worth worrying about, for the chances were that a

grievous erysipelas would ensue. But to offset this, the thin atmosphere seemed to carry healing to gunshot

wounds, and therefore, to simply shoot your adversary through both lungs was a thing not likely to afford you

any permanent satisfaction, for he would be nearly certain to be around looking for you within the month, and

From Virginia's airy situation one could look over a vast, farreaching panorama of mountain ranges and

deserts; and whether the day was bright or overcast, whether the sun was rising or setting, or flaming in the

zenith, or whether night and the moon held sway, the spectacle was always impressive and beautiful. Over

your head Mount Davidson lifted its gray dome, and before and below you a rugged canyon clove the

battlemented hills, making a sombre gateway through which a softtinted desert was glimpsed, with the

silver thread of a river winding through it, bordered with trees which many miles of distance diminished to a

delicate fringe; and still further away the snowy mountains rose up and stretched their long barrier to the

filmy horizonfar enough beyond a lake that burned in the desert like a fallen sun, though that, itself, lay

fifty miles removed. Look from your window where you would, there was fascination in the picture. At rare

intervalsbut very rarethere were clouds in our skies, and then the setting sun would gild and flush and

glorify this mighty expanse of scenery with a bewildering pomp of color that held the eye like a spell and

My salary was increased to forty dollars a week. But I seldom drew it. I had plenty of other resources, and

what were two broad twentydollar gold pieces to a man who had his pockets full of such and a cumbersome

abundance of bright half dollars besides? [Paper money has never come into use on the Pacific coast.]

Reporting was lucrative, and every man in the town was lavish with his money and his "feet." The city and all

the great mountain side were riddled with mining shafts. There were more mines than miners. True, not ten of

these mines were yielding rock worth hauling to a mill, but everybody said, "Wait till the shaft gets down

where the ledge comes in solid, and then you will see!" So nobody was discouraged. These were nearly all

"wild cat" mines, and wholly worthless, but nobody believed it then. The "Ophir," the "Gould Curry," the

"Mexican," and other great mines on the Comstock lead in Virginia and Gold Hill were turning out huge piles

of rich rock every day, and every man believed that his little wild cat claim was as good as any on the "main

lead" and would infallibly be worth a thousand dollars a foot when he "got down where it came in solid."

Poor fellow, he was blessedly blind to the fact that he never would see that day. So the thousand wild cat

shafts burrowed deeper and deeper into the earth day by day, and all men were beside themselves with hope

and happiness. How they labored, prophesied, exulted! Surely nothing like it was ever seen before since the

world began. Every one of these wild cat minesnot mines, but holes in the ground over imaginary

mineswas incorporated and had handsomely engraved "stock" and the stock was salable, too. It was bought

and sold with a feverish avidity in the boards every day. You could go up on the mountain side, scratch

around and find a ledge (there was no lack of them), put up a "notice" with a grandiloquent name in it, start a

shaft, get your stock printed, and with nothing whatever to prove that your mine was worth a straw, you could

put your stock on the market and sell out for hundreds and even thousands of dollars. To make money, and

Every man owned "feet" in fifty different wild cat mines and considered his fortune made. Think of a city

with not one solitary poor man in it! One would suppose that when month after month went by and still not a

wild cat mine (by wild cat I mean, in general terms, any claim not located on the mother vein, i.e., the

"Comstock") yielded a ton of rock worth crushing, the people would begin to wonder if they were not putting

too much faith in their prospective riches; but there was not a thought of such a thing. They burrowed away,

New claims were taken up daily, and it was the friendly custom to run straight to the newspaper offices, give

the reporter forty or fifty "feet," and get them to go and examine the mine and publish a notice of it. They did

not care a fig what you said about the property so you said something. Consequently we generally said a

word or two to the effect that the "indications" were good, or that the ledge was "six feet wide," or that the

rock "resembled the Comstock" (and so it didbut as a general thing the resemblance was not startling

enough to knock you down). If the rock was moderately promising, we followed the custom of the country,

used strong adjectives and frothed at the mouth as if a very marvel in silver discoveries had transpired. If the

mine was a "developed" one, and had no pay ore to show (and of course it hadn't), we praised the tunnel; said

it was one of the most infatuating tunnels in the land; driveled and driveled about the tunnel till we ran

entirely out of ecstasiesbut never said a word about the rock. We would squander half a column of

adulation on a shaft, or a new wire rope, or a dressed pine windlass, or a fascinating force pump, and close

with a burst of admiration of the "gentlemanly and efficient Superintendent" of the mine but never utter a

whisper about the rock. And those people were always pleased, always satisfied. Occasionally we patched up

and varnished our reputation for discrimination and stern, undeviating accuracy, by giving some old

abandoned claim a blast that ought to have made its dry bones rattleand then somebody would seize it and

There was nothing in the shape of a mining claim that was not salable. We received presents of "feet" every

day. If we needed a hundred dollars or so, we sold some; if not, we hoarded it away, satisfied that it would

ultimately be worth a thousand dollars a foot. I had a trunk about half full of "stock." When a claim made a

stir in the market and went up to a high figure, I searched through my pile to see if I had any of its stock

The prices rose and fell constantly; but still a fall disturbed us little, because a thousand dollars a foot was our

figure, and so we were content to let it fluctuate as much as it pleased till it reached it. My pile of stock was

not all given to me by people who wished their claims "noticed." At least half of it was given me by persons

who had no thought of such a thing, and looked for nothing more than a simple verbal "thank you;" and you

were not even obliged by law to furnish that. If you are coming up the street with a couple of baskets of

apples in your hands, and you meet a friend, you naturally invite him to take a few. That describes the

condition of things in Virginia in the "flush times." Every man had his pockets full of stock, and it was the

actual custom of the country to part with small quantities of it to friends without the asking.

Very often it was a good idea to close the transaction instantly, when a man offered a stock present to a

friend, for the offer was only good and binding at that moment, and if the price went to a high figure shortly

afterward the procrastination was a thing to be regretted. Mr. Stewart (Senator, now, from Nevada) one day

told me he would give me twenty feet of "Justis" stock if I would walk over to his office. It was worth five or

ten dollars a foot. I asked him to make the offer good for next day, as I was just going to dinner. He said he

would not be in town; so I risked it and took my dinner instead of the stock. Within the week the price went

up to seventy dollars and afterward to a hundred and fifty, but nothing could make that man yield. I suppose

he sold that stock of mine and placed the guilty proceeds in his own pocket. [My revenge will be found in the

accompanying portrait.] I met three friends one afternoon, who said they had been buying "Overman" stock

at auction at eight dollars a foot. One said if I would come up to his office he would give me fifteen feet;

another said he would add fifteen; the third said he would do the same. But I was going after an inquest and

could not stop. A few weeks afterward they sold all their "Overman" at six hundred dollars a foot and

generously came around to tell me about itand also to urge me to accept of the next fortyfive feet of it

These are actual facts, and I could make the list a long one and still confine myself strictly to the truth. Many

a time friends gave us as much as twentyfive feet of stock that was selling at twentyfive dollars a foot, and

they thought no more of it than they would of offering a guest a cigar. These were "flush times" indeed! I

thought they were going to last always, but somehow I never was much of a prophet.

To show what a wild spirit possessed the mining brain of the community, I will remark that "claims" were

actually "located" in excavations for cellars, where the pick had exposed what seemed to be quartz

veinsand not cellars in the suburbs, either, but in the very heart of the city; and forthwith stock would be

issued and thrown on the market. It was small matter who the cellar belonged tothe "ledge" belonged to the

finder, and unless the United States government interfered (inasmuch as the government holds the primary

right to mines of the noble metals in Nevadaor at least did then), it was considered to be his privilege to

work it. Imagine a stranger staking out a mining claim among the costly shrubbery in your front yard and

calmly proceeding to lay waste the ground with pick and shovel and blasting powder! It has been often done

in California. In the middle of one of the principal business streets of Virginia, a man "located" a mining

claim and began a shaft on it. He gave me a hundred feet of the stock and I sold it for a fine suit of clothes

because I was afraid somebody would fall down the shaft and sue for damages. I owned in another claim that

was located in the middle of another street; and to show how absurd people can be, that "East India" stock (as

it was called) sold briskly although there was an ancient tunnel running directly under the claim and any man

could go into it and see that it did not cut a quartz ledge or anything that remotely resembled one.

One plan of acquiring sudden wealth was to "salt" a wild cat claim and sell out while the excitement was up.

The schemer located a worthless ledge, sunk a shaft on it, bought a wagon load of rich "Comstock" ore,

dumped a portion of it into the shaft and piled the rest by its side, above ground. Then he showed the property

to a simpleton and sold it to him at a high figure. Of course the wagon load of rich ore was all that the victim

ever got out of his purchase. A most remarkable case of "salting" was that of the "North Ophir." It was

claimed that this vein was a remote extension" of the original "Ophir," a valuable mine on the "Comstock."

For a few days everybody was talking about the rich developments in the North Ophir. It was said that it

yielded perfectly pure silver in small, solid lumps. I went to the place with the owners, and found a shaft six

or eight feet deep, in the bottom of which was a badly shattered vein of dull, yellowish, unpromising rock.

One would as soon expect to find silver in a grindstone. We got out a pan of the rubbish and washed it in a

puddle, and sure enough, among the sediment we found half a dozen black, bullet looking pellets of

unimpeachable "native" silver. Nobody had ever heard of such a thing before; science could not account for

such a queer novelty. The stock rose to sixtyfive dollars a foot, and at this figure the worldrenowned

tragedian, McKean Buchanan, bought a commanding interest and prepared to quit the stage once morehe

was always doing that. And then it transpired that the mine had been "salted"and not in any hackneyed

way, either, but in a singularly bold, barefaced and peculiarly original and outrageous fashion. On one of the

lumps of "native" silver was discovered the minted legend, "TED STATES OF," and then it was plainly

apparent that the mine had been "salted" with melted halfdollars! The lumps thus obtained had been

blackened till they resembled native silver, and were then mixed with the shattered rock in the bottom of the

shaft. It is literally true. Of course the price of the stock at once fell to nothing, and the tragedian was ruined.

The "flush times" held bravely on. Something over two years before, Mr. Goodman and another journeyman

printer, had borrowed forty dollars and set out from San Francisco to try their fortunes in the new city of

Virginia. They found the Territorial Enterprise, a povertystricken weekly journal, gasping for breath and

likely to die. They bought it, type, fixtures, goodwill and all, for a thousand dollars, on long time. The

editorial sanctum, newsroom, pressroom, publication office, bed chamber, parlor, and kitchen were all

compressed into one apartment and it was a small one, too. The editors and printers slept on the floor, a

Chinaman did their cooking, and the "imposingstone" was the general dinner table. But now things were

changed. The paper was a great daily, printed by steam; there were five editors and twentythree

compositors; the subscription price was sixteen dollars a year; the advertising rates were exorbitant, and the

columns crowded. The paper was clearing from six to ten thousand dollars a month, and the "Enterprise

Building" was finished and ready for occupationa stately fireproof brick. Every day from five all the way

up to eleven columns of "live" advertisements were left out or crowded into spasmodic and irregular

The "Gould Curry" company were erecting a monster hundredstamp mill at a cost that ultimately fell little

short of a million dollars. Gould Curry stock paid heavy dividendsa rare thing, and an experience confined

to the dozen or fifteen claims located on the "main lead," the "Comstock." The Superintendent of the Gould

Curry lived, rent free, in a fine house built and furnished by the company. He drove a fine pair of horses

which were a present from the company, and his salary was twelve thousand dollars a year. The

superintendent of another of the great mines traveled in grand state, had a salary of twentyeight thousand

dollars a year, and in a law suit in after days claimed that he was to have had one per cent. on the gross yield

Money was wonderfully plenty. The trouble was, not how to get it,but how to spend it, how to lavish it, get

rid of it, squander it. And so it was a happy thing that just at this juncture the news came over the wires that a

great United States Sanitary Commission had been formed and money was wanted for the relief of the

wounded sailors and soldiers of the Union languishing in the Eastern hospitals. Right on the heels of it came

word that San Francisco had responded superbly before the telegram was half a day old. Virginia rose as one

man! A Sanitary Committee was hurriedly organized, and its chairman mounted a vacant cart in C street and

tried to make the clamorous multitude understand that the rest of the committee were flying hither and thither

and working with all their might and main, and that if the town would only wait an hour, an office would be

ready, books opened, and the Commission prepared to receive contributions. His voice was drowned and his

information lost in a ceaseless roar of cheers, and demands that the money be received now they swore

they would not wait. The chairman pleaded and argued, but, deaf to all entreaty, men plowed their way

through the throng and rained checks of gold coin into the cart and skurried away for more. Hands clutching

money, were thrust aloft out of the jam by men who hoped this eloquent appeal would cleave a road their

strugglings could not open. The very Chinamen and Indians caught the excitement and dashed their half

dollars into the cart without knowing or caring what it was all about. Women plunged into the crowd, trimly

attired, fought their way to the cart with their coin, and emerged again, by and by, with their apparel in a state

of hopeless dilapidation. It was the wildest mob Virginia had ever seen and the most determined and

ungovernable; and when at last it abated its fury and dispersed, it had not a penny in its pocket.

After that, the Commission got itself into systematic working order, and for weeks the contributions flowed

into its treasury in a generous stream. Individuals and all sorts of organizations levied upon themselves a

regular weekly tax for the sanitary fund, graduated according to their means, and there was not another grand

universal outburst till the famous "Sanitary Flour Sack" came our way. Its history is peculiar and interesting.

A former schoolmate of mine, by the name of Reuel Gridley, was living at the little city of Austin, in the

Reese river country, at this time, and was the Democratic candidate for mayor. He and the Republican

candidate made an agreement that the defeated man should be publicly presented with a fiftypound sack of

flour by the successful one, and should carry it home on his shoulder. Gridley was defeated. The new mayor

gave him the sack of flour, and he shouldered it and carried it a mile or two, from Lower Austin to his home

in Upper Austin, attended by a band of music and the whole population. Arrived there, he said he did not

need the flour, and asked what the people thought he had better do with it. A voice said:

The suggestion was greeted with a round of applause, and Gridley mounted a drygoods box and assumed

the role of auctioneer. The bids went higher and higher, as the sympathies of the pioneers awoke and

expanded, till at last the sack was knocked down to a mill man at two hundred and fifty dollars, and his check

Now the cheers went up royally, and the multitude were fairly in the spirit of the thing. So Gridley stood

there and shouted and perspired till the sun went down; and when the crowd dispersed he had sold the sack to

three hundred different people, and had taken in eight thousand dollars in gold. And still the flour sack was in

Thirtysix hours afterward Gridley arrived, and an afternoon mass meeting was held in the Opera House, and

the auction began. But the sack had come sooner than it was expected; the people were not thoroughly

aroused, and the sale dragged. At nightfall only five thousand dollars had been secured, and there was a

crestfallen feeling in the community. However, there was no disposition to let the matter rest here and

acknowledge vanquishment at the hands of the village of Austin. Till late in the night the principal citizens

were at work arranging the morrow's campaign, and when they went to bed they had no fears for the result.

At eleven the next morning a procession of open carriages, attended by clamorous bands of music and

adorned with a moving display of flags, filed along C street and was soon in danger of blockade by a

huzzaing multitude of citizens. In the first carriage sat Gridley, with the flour sack in prominent view, the

latter splendid with bright paint and gilt lettering; also in the same carriage sat the mayor and the recorder.

The other carriages contained the Common Council, the editors and reporters, and other people of imposing

consequence. The crowd pressed to the corner of C and Taylor streets, expecting the sale to begin there, but

they were disappointed, and also unspeakably surprised; for the cavalcade moved on as if Virginia had ceased

to be of importance, and took its way over the "divide," toward the small town of Gold Hill. Telegrams had

gone ahead to Gold Hill, Silver City and Dayton, and those communities were at fever heat and rife for the

conflict. It was a very hot day, and wonderfully dusty. At the end of a short half hour we descended into Gold

Hill with drums beating and colors flying, and enveloped in imposing clouds of dust. The whole

populationmen, women and children, Chinamen and Indians, were massed in the main street, all the flags

in town were at the mast head, and the blare of the bands was drowned in cheers. Gridley stood up and asked

who would make the first bid for the National Sanitary Flour Sack. Gen. W. said:

A tempest of applause followed. A telegram carried the news to Virginia, and fifteen minutes afterward that

city's population was massed in the streets devouring the tidingsfor it was part of the programme that the

bulletin boards should do a good work that day. Every few minutes a new dispatch was bulletined from Gold

Hill, and still the excitement grew. Telegrams began to return to us from Virginia beseeching Gridley to bring

back the flour sack; but such was not the plan of the campaign. At the end of an hour Gold Hill's small

population had paid a figure for the flour sack that awoke all the enthusiasm of Virginia when the grand total

was displayed upon the bulletin boards. Then the Gridley cavalcade moved on, a giant refreshed with new

lager beer and plenty of itfor the people brought it to the carriages without waiting to measure itand

within three hours more the expedition had carried Silver City and Dayton by storm and was on its way back

covered with glory. Every move had been telegraphed and bulletined, and as the procession entered Virginia

and filed down C street at half past eight in the evening the town was abroad in the thoroughfares, torches

were glaring, flags flying, bands playing, cheer on cheer cleaving the air, and the city ready to surrender at

discretion. The auction began, every bid was greeted with bursts of applause, and at the end of two hours and

a half a population of fifteen thousand souls had paid in coin for a fiftypound sack of flour a sum equal to

forty thousand dollars in greenbacks! It was at a rate in the neighborhood of three dollars for each man,

woman and child of the population. The grand total would have been twice as large, but the streets were very

narrow, and hundreds who wanted to bid could not get within a block of the stand, and could not make

themselves heard. These grew tired of waiting and many of them went home long before the auction was

Gridley sold the sack in Carson city and several California towns; also in San Francisco. Then he took it east

and sold it in one or two Atlantic cities, I think. I am not sure of that, but I know that he finally carried it to

St. Louis, where a monster Sanitary Fair was being held, and after selling it there for a large sum and helping

on the enthusiasm by displaying the portly silver bricks which Nevada's donation had produced, he had the

It was estimated that when the flour sack's mission was ended it had been sold for a grand total of a hundred

and fifty thousand dollars in greenbacks! This is probably the only instance on record where common family

It is due to Mr. Gridley's memory to mention that the expenses of his sanitary flour sack expedition of fifteen

thousand miles, going and returning, were paid in large part if not entirely, out of his own pocket. The time

he gave to it was not less than three months. Mr. Gridley was a soldier in the Mexican war and a pioneer

Californian. He died at Stockton, California, in December, 1870, greatly regretted.

There were nabobs in those daysin the "flush times," I mean. Every rich strike in the mines created one or

two. I call to mind several of these. They were careless, easygoing fellows, as a general thing, and the

community at large was as much benefited by their riches as they were themselvespossibly more, in some

Two cousins, teamsters, did some hauling for a man and had to take a small segregated portion of a silver

mine in lieu of $300 cash. They gave an outsider a third to open the mine, and they went on teaming. But not

long. Ten months afterward the mine was out of debt and paying each owner $8,000 to $10,000 a

One of the earliest nabobs that Nevada was delivered of wore $6,000 worth of diamonds in his bosom, and

swore he was unhappy because he could not spend his money as fast as he made it.

Another Nevada nabob boasted an income that often reached $16,000 a month; and he used to love to tell

how he had worked in the very mine that yielded it, for five dollars a day, when he first came to the country.

The silver and sagebrush State has knowledge of another of these pets of fortunelifted from actual

poverty to affluence almost in a single nightwho was able to offer $100,000 for a position of high official

distinction, shortly afterward, and did offer itbut failed to get it, his politics not being as sound as his bank

Then there was John Smith. He was a good, honest, kindhearted soul, born and reared in the lower ranks of

life, and miraculously ignorant. He drove a team, and owned a small rancha ranch that paid him a

comfortable living, for although it yielded but little hay, what little it did yield was worth from $250 to $300

in gold per ton in the market. Presently Smith traded a few acres of the ranch for a small undeveloped silver

mine in Gold Hill. He opened the mine and built a little unpretending tenstamp mill. Eighteen months

afterward he retired from the hay business, for his mining income had reached a most comfortable figure.

Some people said it was $30,000 a month, and others said it was $60,000. Smith was very rich at any rate.

And then he went to Europe and traveled. And when he came back he was never tired of telling about the fine

hogs he had seen in England, and the gorgeous sheep he had seen in Spain, and the fine cattle he had noticed

in the vicinity of Rome. He was full of wonders of the old world, and advised everybody to travel. He said a

man never imagined what surprising things there were in the world till he had traveled.

One day, on board ship, the passengers made up a pool of $500, which was to be the property of the man who

should come nearest to guessing the run of the vessel for the next twentyfour hours. Next day, toward noon,

the figures were all in the purser's hands in sealed envelopes. Smith was serene and happy, for he had been

The purser said, "Mr. Smith, you missed it further than any man on board. We traveled two hundred and eight

"Well, sir," said Smith, "that's just where I've got you, for I guessed two hundred and nine. If you'll look at

my figgers again you'll find a 2 and two 0's, which stands for 200, don't it?and after 'em you'll find a 9

(2009), which stands for two hundred and nine. I reckon I'll take that money, if you please."

The Gould Curry claim comprised twelve hundred feet, and it all belonged originally to the two men whose

names it bears. Mr. Curry owned two thirds of itand he said that he sold it out for twentyfive hundred

dollars in cash, and an old plug horse that ate up his market value in hay and barley in seventeen days by the

watch. And he said that Gould sold out for a pair of secondhand government blankets and a bottle of whisky

that killed nine men in three hours, and that an unoffending stranger that smelt the cork was disabled for life.

Four years afterward the mine thus disposed of was worth in the San Francisco market seven millions six

In the early days a povertystricken Mexican who lived in a canyon directly back of Virginia City, had a

stream of water as large as a man's wrist trickling from the hillside on his premises. The Ophir Company

segregated a hundred feet of their mine and traded it to him for the stream of water. The hundred feet proved

to be the richest part of the entire mine; four years after the swap, its market value (including its mill) was

An individual who owned twenty feet in the Ophir mine before its great riches were revealed to men, traded it

for a horse, and a very sorry looking brute he was, too. A year or so afterward, when Ophir stock went up to

$3,000 a foot, this man, who had not a cent, used to say he was the most startling example of magnificence

and misery the world had ever seenbecause he was able to ride a sixtythousanddollar horseyet could

not scrape up cash enough to buy a saddle, and was obliged to borrow one or ride bareback. He said if fortune

A youth of nineteen, who was a telegraph operator in Virginia on a salary of a hundred dollars a month, and

who, when he could not make out German names in the list of San Francisco steamer arrivals, used to

ingeniously select and supply substitutes for them out of an old Berlin city directory, made himself rich by

watching the mining telegrams that passed through his hands and buying and selling stocks accordingly,

through a friend in San Francisco. Once when a private dispatch was sent from Virginia announcing a rich

strike in a prominent mine and advising that the matter be kept secret till a large amount of the stock could be

secured, he bought forty "feet" of the stock at twenty dollars a foot, and afterward sold half of it at eight

hundred dollars a foot and the rest at double that figure. Within three months he was worth $150,000, and had

Another telegraph operator who had been discharged by the company for divulging the secrets of the office,

agreed with a moneyed man in San Francisco to furnish him the result of a great Virginia mining lawsuit

within an hour after its private reception by the parties to it in San Francisco. For this he was to have a large

percentage of the profits on purchases and sales made on it by his fellowconspirator. So he went, disguised

as a teamster, to a little wayside telegraph office in the mountains, got acquainted with the operator, and sat in

the office day after day, smoking his pipe, complaining that his team was fagged out and unable to

traveland meantime listening to the dispatches as they passed clicking through the machine from Virginia.

Finally the private dispatch announcing the result of the lawsuit sped over the wires, and as soon as he heard

It was the signal agreed upon. The word "waiting" left out, would have signified that the suit had gone the

The mock teamster's friend picked up a deal of the mining stock, at low figures, before the news became

For a long time after one of the great Virginia mines had been incorporated, about fifty feet of the original

location were still in the hands of a man who had never signed the incorporation papers. The stock became

very valuable, and every effort was made to find this man, but he had disappeared. Once it was heard that he

was in New York, and one or two speculators went east but failed to find him. Once the news came that he

was in the Bermudas, and straightway a speculator or two hurried east and sailed for Bermudabut he was

not there. Finally he was heard of in Mexico, and a friend of his, a barkeeper on a salary, scraped together a

little money and sought him out, bought his "feet" for a hundred dollars, returned and sold the property for

But why go on? The traditions of Silverland are filled with instances like these, and I would never get

through enumerating them were I to attempt do it. I only desired to give, the reader an idea of a peculiarity of

the "flush times" which I could not present so strikingly in any other way, and which some mention of was

I was personally acquainted with the majority of the nabobs I have referred to, and so, for old acquaintance

sake, I have shifted their occupations and experiences around in such a way as to keep the Pacific public from

recognizing these once notorious men. No longer notorious, for the majority of them have drifted back into

In Nevada there used to be current the story of an adventure of two of her nabobs, which may or may not

Col. Jim had seen somewhat of the world, and knew more or less of its ways; but Col. Jack was from the back

settlements of the States, had led a life of arduous toil, and had never seen a city. These two, blessed with

sudden wealth, projected a visit to New York,Col. Jack to see the sights, and Col. Jim to guard his

unsophistication from misfortune. They reached San Francisco in the night, and sailed in the morning.

"I've heard tell of carriages all my life, and now I mean to have a ride in one; I don't care what it costs. Come

They stepped out on the sidewalk, and Col. Jim called a stylish barouche. But Col. Jack said:

"No, sir! None of your cheapJohn turnouts for me. I'm here to have a good time, and money ain't any

object. I mean to have the nobbiest rig that's going. Now here comes the very trick. Stop that yaller one with

"Ain't it gay, though? Oh, no, I reckon not! Cushions, and windows, and pictures, till you can't rest. What

would the boys say if they could see us cutting a swell like this in New York? By George, I wish they could

"Say, Johnny, this suits me!suits yours truly, you bet, you! I want this shebang all day. I'm on it, old man!

The driver passed his hand through the straphole, and tapped for his fareit was before the gongs came

"You twig me, old pard! All right between gents. Smell of that, and see how you like it!"

And he put a twentydollar gold piece in the driver's hand. After a moment the driver said he could not make

"Ain't it style, though? Hanged if I don't hire this thing every day for a week."

The omnibus stopped, and a young lady got in. Col. Jack stared a moment, then nudged Col. Jim with his

"Don't say a word," he whispered. "Let her ride, if she wants to. Gracious, there's room enough."

"Take back your money, madam. We can't allow it. You're welcome to ride here as long as you please, but

The girl shrunk into a corner, bewildered. An old lady with a basket climbed in, and proffered her fare.

"Excuse me," said Col. Jack. "You're perfectly welcome here, madam, but we can't allow you to pay. Set

right down there, mum, and don't you be the least uneasy. Make yourself just as free as if you was in your

Within two minutes, three gentlemen, two fat women, and a couple of children, entered.

"Come right along, friends," said Col. Jack; "don't mind us. This is a free blowout." Then he whispered to

He resisted every effort to pass fares to the driver, and made everybody cordially welcome. The situation

dawned on the people, and they pocketed their money, and delivered themselves up to covert enjoyment of

"Oh, there's plenty of room," said Col. Jack. "Walk right in, and make yourselves at home. A blowout ain't

worth anything as a blowout, unless a body has company." Then in a whisper to Col. Jim: "But ain't these

New Yorkers friendly? And ain't they cool about it, too? Icebergs ain't anywhere. I reckon they'd tackle a

More passengers got in; more yet, and still more. Both seats were filled, and a file of men were standing up,

holding on to the cleats overhead. Parties with baskets and bundles were climbing up on the roof.

"Well, for clean, cool, outandout cheek, if this don't bang anything that ever I saw, I'm an Injun!"

"I weaken!" said Col. Jack. "Hold on, driver! Keep your seats, ladies, and gents. Just make yourselves

freeeverything's paid for. Driver, rustle these folks around as long as they're a mind to gofriends of ours,

you know. Take them everywheresand if you want more money, come to the St. Nicholas, and we'll make

it all right. Pleasant journey to you, ladies and gentsgo it just as long as you pleaseit shan't cost you a

"Jimmy, it's the sociablest place I ever saw. The Chinaman waltzed in as comfortable as anybody. If we'd

staid awhile, I reckon we'd had some niggers. B' George, we'll have to barricade our doors tonight, or some

Somebody has said that in order to know a community, one must observe the style of its funerals and know

what manner of men they bury with most ceremony. I cannot say which class we buried with most eclat in

our "flush times," the distinguished public benefactor or the distinguished roughpossibly the two chief

grades or grand divisions of society honored their illustrious dead about equally; and hence, no doubt the

philosopher I have quoted from would have needed to see two representative funerals in Virginia before

There was a grand time over Buck Fanshaw when he died. He was a representative citizen. He had "killed his

man"not in his own quarrel, it is true, but in defence of a stranger unfairly beset by numbers. He had kept a

sumptuous saloon. He had been the proprietor of a dashing helpmeet whom he could have discarded without

the formality of a divorce. He had held a high position in the fire department and been a very Warwick in

politics. When he died there was great lamentation throughout the town, but especially in the vast

On the inquest it was shown that Buck Fanshaw, in the delirium of a wasting typhoid fever, had taken

arsenic, shot himself through the body, cut his throat, and jumped out of a fourstory window and broken his

neckand after due deliberation, the jury, sad and tearful, but with intelligence unblinded by its sorrow,

brought in a verdict of death "by the visitation of God." What could the world do without juries?

Prodigious preparations were made for the funeral. All the vehicles in town were hired, all the saloons put in

mourning, all the municipal and firecompany flags hung at halfmast, and all the firemen ordered to muster

in uniform and bring their machines duly draped in black. Now let us remark in parenthesisas all the

peoples of the earth had representative adventurers in the Silverland, and as each adventurer had brought the

slang of his nation or his locality with him, the combination made the slang of Nevada the richest and the

most infinitely varied and copious that had ever existed anywhere in the world, perhaps, except in the mines

of California in the "early days." Slang was the language of Nevada. It was hard to preach a sermon without

it, and be understood. Such phrases as "You bet!" "Oh, no, I reckon not!" "No Irish need apply," and a

hundred others, became so common as to fall from the lips of a speaker unconsciouslyand very often when

they did not touch the subject under discussion and consequently failed to mean anything.

After Buck Fanshaw's inquest, a meeting of the shorthaired brotherhood was held, for nothing can be done

on the Pacific coast without a public meeting and an expression of sentiment. Regretful resolutions were

passed and various committees appointed; among others, a committee of one was deputed to call on the

minister, a fragile, gentle, spiritual new fledgling from an Eastern theological seminary, and as yet

unacquainted with the ways of the mines. The committeeman, "Scotty" Briggs, made his visit; and in after

days it was worth something to hear the minister tell about it. Scotty was a stalwart rough, whose customary

suit, when on weighty official business, like committee work, was a fire helmet, flaming red flannel shirt,

patent leather belt with spanner and revolver attached, coat hung over arm, and pants stuffed into boot tops.

He formed something of a contrast to the pale theological student. It is fair to say of Scotty, however, in

passing, that he had a warm heart, and a strong love for his friends, and never entered into a quarrel when he

could reasonably keep out of it. Indeed, it was commonly said that whenever one of Scotty's fights was

investigated, it always turned out that it had originally been no affair of his, but that out of native

goodheartedness he had dropped in of his own accord to help the man who was getting the worst of it. He

and Buck Fanshaw were bosom friends, for years, and had often taken adventurous "potluck" together. On

one occasion, they had thrown off their coats and taken the weaker side in a fight among strangers, and after

gaining a hardearned victory, turned and found that the men they were helping had deserted early, and not

only that, but had stolen their coats and made off with them! But to return to Scotty's visit to the minister. He

was on a sorrowful mission, now, and his face was the picture of woe. Being admitted to the presence he sat

down before the clergyman, placed his firehat on an unfinished manuscript sermon under the minister's

nose, took from it a red silk handkerchief, wiped his brow and heaved a sigh of dismal impressiveness,

He choked, and even shed tears; but with an effort he mastered his voice and said in lugubrious tones:

"Why you see we are in a bit of trouble, and the boys thought maybe you would give us a lift, if we'd tackle

youthat is, if I've got the rights of it and you are the head clerk of the doxologyworks next door."

"The spiritual adviser of the little company of believers whose sanctuary adjoins these premises."

"You ruther hold over me, pard. I reckon I can't call that hand. Ante and pass the buck."

"Well, you've ruther got the bulge on me. Or maybe we've both got the bulge, somehow. You don't smoke me

and I don't smoke you. You see, one of the boys has passed in his checks and we want to give him a good

send off, and so the thing I'm on now is to roust out somebody to jerk a little chinmusic for us and waltz

"My friend, I seem to grow more and more bewildered. Your observations are wholly incomprehensible to

me. Cannot you simplify them in some way? At first I thought perhaps I understood you, but I grope now.

Would it not expedite matters if you restricted yourself to categorical statements of fact unencumbered with

"Why, that last lead of yourn is too many for methat's the idea. I can't neithertrump nor follow suit."

The clergyman sank back in his chair perplexed. Scotty leaned his head on his hand and gave himself up to

"I've got it now, so's you can savvy," he said. "What we want is a gospelsharp. See?"

"Now you talk! You see my blind and straddle it like a man. Put it there!"extending a brawny paw, which

closed over the minister's small hand and gave it a shake indicative of fraternal sympathy and fervent

"Now we're all right, pard. Let's start fresh. Don't you mind my snuffling a littlebecuz we're in a power of

"Ahhas departed to that mysterious country from whose bourne no traveler returns."

"Oh, you do? Well I thought maybe you might be getting tangled some more. Yes, you see he's dead

"Dead before? No! Do you reckon a man has got as many lives as a cat? But you bet you he's awful dead

now, poor old boy, and I wish I'd never seen this day. I don't want no better friend than Buck Fanshaw. I

knowed him by the back; and when I know a man and like him, I freeze to himyou hear me. Take him all

round, pard, there never was a bullier man in the mines. No man ever knowed Buck Fanshaw to go back on a

friend. But it's all up, you know, it's all up. It ain't no use. They've scooped him."

"Yesdeath has. Well, well, well, we've got to give him up. Yes indeed. It's a kind of a hard world, after all,

ain't it? But pard, he was a rustler! You ought to seen him get started once. He was a bully boy with a glass

eye! Just spit in his face and give him room according to his strength, and it was just beautiful to see him peel

and go in. He was the worst son of a thief that ever drawed breath. Pard, he was on it! He was on it bigger

"On the shoot. On the shoulder. On the fight, you understand. He didn't give a continental for any body. Beg

your pardon, friend, for coming so near saying a cusswordbut you see I'm on an awful strain, in this

palaver, on account of having to cramp down and draw everything so mild. But we've got to give him up.

There ain't any getting around that, I don't reckon. Now if we can get you to help plant him"

"Obs'quies is good. Yes. That's itthat's our little game. We are going to get the thing up regardless, you

know. He was always nifty himself, and so you bet you his funeral ain't going to be no slouch solid silver

doorplate on his coffin, six plumes on the hearse, and a nigger on the box in a biled shirt and a plug

hathow's that for high? And we'll take care of you, pard. We'll fix you all right. There'll be a kerridge for

you; and whatever you want, you just 'scape out and we'll 'tend to it. We've got a shebang fixed up for you to

stand behind, in No. 1's house, and don't you be afraid. Just go in and toot your horn, if you don't sell a clam.

Put Buck through as bully as you can, pard, for anybody that knowed him will tell you that he was one of the

whitest men that was ever in the mines. You can't draw it too strong. He never could stand it to see things

going wrong. He's done more to make this town quiet and peaceable than any man in it. I've seen him lick

four Greasers in eleven minutes, myself. If a thing wanted regulating, he warn't a man to go browsing around

after somebody to do it, but he would prance in and regulate it himself. He warn't a Catholic. Scasely. He was

down on 'em. His word was, 'No Irish need apply!' But it didn't make no difference about that when it came

down to what a man's rights wasand so, when some roughs jumped the Catholic boneyard and started in

to stake out townlots in it he went for 'em! And he cleaned 'em, too! I was there, pard, and I seen it myself."

"That was very well indeedat least the impulse waswhether the act was strictly defensible or not. Had

deceased any religious convictions? That is to say, did he feel a dependence upon, or acknowledge allegiance

"I reckon you've stumped me again, pard. Could you say it over once more, and say it slow?"

"Well, to simplify it somewhat, was he, or rather had he ever been connected with any organization

sequestered from secular concerns and devoted to selfsacrifice in the interests of morality?"

"Why, you're most too many for me, you know. When you get in with your left I hunt grass every time. Every

time you draw, you fill; but I don't seem to have any luck. Lets have a new deal."

"ThereI see that; don't put up another chip till I look at my hand. A good man, says you? Pard, it ain't no

name for it. He was the best man that everpard, you would have doted on that man. He could lam any

galoot of his inches in America. It was him that put down the riot last election before it got a start; and

everybody said he was the only man that could have done it. He waltzed in with a spanner in one hand and a

trumpet in the other, and sent fourteen men home on a shutter in less than three minutes. He had that riot all

broke up and prevented nice before anybody ever got a chance to strike a blow. He was always for peace, and

he would have peacehe could not stand disturbances. Pard, he was a great loss to this town. It would please

the boys if you could chip in something like that and do him justice. Here once when the Micks got to

throwing stones through the Methodis' Sunday school windows, Buck Fanshaw, all of his own notion, shut up

his saloon and took a couple of sixshooters and mounted guard over the Sunday school. Says he, 'No Irish

need apply!' And they didn't. He was the bulliest man in the mountains, pard! He could run faster, jump

higher, hit harder, and hold more tanglefoot whisky without spilling it than any man in seventeen counties.

Put that in, pardit'll please the boys more than anything you could say. And you can say, pard, that he

"In my opinion the man that would offer personal violence to his own mother, ought to"

"Cheese it, pard; you've banked your ball clean outside the string. What I was a drivin' at, was, that he never

throwed off on his mother don't you see? No indeedy. He give her a house to live in, and town lots, and

plenty of money; and he looked after her and took care of her all the time; and when she was down with the

smallpox I'm dd if he didn't set up nights and nuss her himself! Beg your pardon for saying it, but it

You've treated me like a gentleman, pard, and I ain't the man to hurt your feelings intentional. I think you're

white. I think you're a square man, pard. I like you, and I'll lick any man that don't. I'll lick him till he can't

tell himself from a last year's corpse! Put it there!" [Another fraternal handshakeand exit.]

The obsequies were all that "the boys" could desire. Such a marvel of funeral pomp had never been seen in

Virginia. The plumed hearse, the dirgebreathing brass bands, the closed marts of business, the flags

drooping at half mast, the long, plodding procession of uniformed secret societies, military battalions and fire

companies, draped engines, carriages of officials, and citizens in vehicles and on foot, attracted multitudes of

spectators to the sidewalks, roofs and windows; and for years afterward, the degree of grandeur attained by

any civic display in Virginia was determined by comparison with Buck Fanshaw's funeral.

Scotty Briggs, as a pallbearer and a mourner, occupied a prominent place at the funeral, and when the

sermon was finished and the last sentence of the prayer for the dead man's soul ascended, he responded, in a

As the bulk of the response was without apparent relevancy, it was probably nothing more than a humble

tribute to the memory of the friend that was gone; for, as Scotty had once said, it was "his word."

Scotty Briggs, in after days, achieved the distinction of becoming the only convert to religion that was ever

gathered from the Virginia roughs; and it transpired that the man who had it in him to espouse the quarrel of

the weak out of inborn nobility of spirit was no mean timber whereof to construct a Christian. The making

him one did not warp his generosity or diminish his courage; on the contrary it gave intelligent direction to

If his Sundayschool class progressed faster than the other classes, was it matter for wonder? I think not. He

talked to his pioneer smallfry in a language they understood! It was my large privilege, a month before he

died, to hear him tell the beautiful story of Joseph and his brethren to his class "without looking at the book."

I leave it to the reader to fancy what it was like, as it fell, riddled with slang, from the lips of that grave,

earnest teacher, and was listened to by his little learners with a consuming interest that showed that they were

as unconscious as he was that any violence was being done to the sacred proprieties!

The first twentysix graves in the Virginia cemetery were occupied by murdered men. So everybody said, so

everybody believed, and so they will always say and believe. The reason why there was so much slaughtering

done, was, that in a new mining district the rough element predominates, and a person is not respected until

If an unknown individual arrived, they did not inquire if he was capable, honest, industrious, buthad he

killed his man? If he had not, he gravitated to his natural and proper position, that of a man of small

consequence; if he had, the cordiality of his reception was graduated according to the number of his dead. It

was tedious work struggling up to a position of influence with bloodless hands; but when a man came with

the blood of half a dozen men on his soul, his worth was recognized at once and his acquaintance sought.

In Nevada, for a time, the lawyer, the editor, the banker, the chief desperado, the chief gambler, and the

saloon keeper, occupied the same level in society, and it was the highest. The cheapest and easiest way to

become an influential man and be looked up to by the community at large, was to stand behind a bar, wear a

clusterdiamond pin, and sell whisky. I am not sure but that the saloonkeeper held a shade higher rank than

any other member of society. His opinion had weight. It was his privilege to say how the elections should go.

No great movement could succeed without the countenance and direction of the saloon keepers. It was a

high favor when the chief saloonkeeper consented to serve in the legislature or the board of aldermen.

Youthful ambition hardly aspired so much to the honors of the law, or the army and navy as to the dignity of

To be a saloonkeeper and kill a man was to be illustrious. Hence the reader will not be surprised to learn

that more than one man was killed in Nevada under hardly the pretext of provocation, so impatient was the

slayer to achieve reputation and throw off the galling sense of being held in indifferent repute by his

associates. I knew two youths who tried to "kill their men" for no other reasonand got killed themselves for

their pains. "There goes the man that killed Bill Adams" was higher praise and a sweeter sound in the ears of

The men who murdered Virginia's original twentysix cemeteryoccupants were never punished. Why?

Because Alfred the Great, when he invented trial by jury and knew that he had admirably framed it to secure

justice in his age of the world, was not aware that in the nineteenth century the condition of things would be

so entirely changed that unless he rose from the grave and altered the jury plan to meet the emergency, it

would prove the most ingenious and infallible agency for defeating justice that human wisdom could

contrive. For how could he imagine that we simpletons would go on using his jury plan after circumstances

had stripped it of its usefulness, any more than he could imagine that we would go on using his candleclock

after we had invented chronometers? In his day news could not travel fast, and hence he could easily find a

jury of honest, intelligent men who had not heard of the case they were called to try but in our day of

telegraphs and newspapers his plan compels us to swear in juries composed of fools and rascals, because the

I remember one of those sorrowful farces, in Virginia, which we call a jury trial. A noted desperado killed

Mr. B., a good citizen, in the most wanton and coldblooded way. Of course the papers were full of it, and all

men capable of reading, read about it. And of course all men not deaf and dumb and idiotic, talked about it. A

jurylist was made out, and Mr. B. L., a prominent banker and a valued citizen, was questioned precisely as

A minister, intelligent, esteemed, and greatly respected; a merchant of high character and known probity; a

mining superintendent of intelligence and unblemished reputation; a quartz mill owner of excellent standing,

were all questioned in the same way, and all set aside. Each said the public talk and the newspaper reports

had not so biased his mind but that sworn testimony would overthrow his previously formed opinions and

enable him to render a verdict without prejudice and in accordance with the facts. But of course such men

could not be trusted with the case. Ignoramuses alone could mete out unsullied justice.

When the peremptory challenges were all exhausted, a jury of twelve men was impaneleda jury who swore

they had neither heard, read, talked about nor expressed an opinion concerning a murder which the very cattle

in the corrals, the Indians in the sagebrush and the stones in the streets were cognizant of! It was a jury

composed of two desperadoes, two low beerhouse politicians, three barkeepers, two ranchmen who could

not read, and three dull, stupid, human donkeys! It actually came out afterward, that one of these latter

The jury system puts a ban upon intelligence and honesty, and a premium upon ignorance, stupidity and

perjury. It is a shame that we must continue to use a worthless system because it was good a thousand years

ago. In this age, when a gentleman of high social standing, intelligence and probity, swears that testimony

given under solemn oath will outweigh, with him, street talk and newspaper reports based upon mere hearsay,

he is worth a hundred jurymen who will swear to their own ignorance and stupidity, and justice would be far

safer in his hands than in theirs. Why could not the jury law be so altered as to give men of brains and

honesty and equal chance with fools and miscreants? Is it right to show the present favoritism to one class of

men and inflict a disability on another, in a land whose boast is that all its citizens are free and equal? I am a

candidate for the legislature. I desire to tamper with the jury law. I wish to so alter it as to put a premium on

intelligence and character, and close the jury box against idiots, blacklegs, and people who do not read

newspapers. But no doubt I shall be defeated every effort I make to save the country "misses fire."

My idea, when I began this chapter, was to say something about desperadoism in the "flush times" of Nevada.

To attempt a portrayal of that era and that land, and leave out the blood and carnage, would be like portraying

Mormondom and leaving out polygamy. The desperado stalked the streets with a swagger graded according

to the number of his homicides, and a nod of recognition from him was sufficient to make a humble admirer

happy for the rest of the day. The deference that was paid to a desperado of wide reputation, and who "kept

his private graveyard," as the phrase went, was marked, and cheerfully accorded. When he moved along the

sidewalk in his excessively longtailed frock coat, shiny stumptoed boots, and with dainty little slouch hat

tipped over left eye, the smallfry roughs made room for his majesty; when he entered the restaurant, the

waiters deserted bankers and merchants to overwhelm him with obsequious service; when he shouldered his

way to a bar, the shouldered parties wheeled indignantly, recognized him, and apologized.

They got a look in return that froze their marrow, and by that time a curled and breastpinned bar keeper was

beaming over the counter, proud of the established acquaintanceship that permitted such a familiar form of

The best known names in the Territory of Nevada were those belonging to these longtailed heroes of the

revolver. Orators, Governors, capitalists and leaders of the legislature enjoyed a degree of fame, but it seemed

local and meagre when contrasted with the fame of such men as Sam Brown, Jack Williams, Billy Mulligan,

Farmer Pease, Sugarfoot Mike, Pock Marked Jake, El Dorado Johnny, Jack McNabb, Joe McGee, Jack

Harris, Sixfingered Pete, etc., etc. There was a long list of them. They were brave, reckless men, and

traveled with their lives in their hands. To give them their due, they did their killing principally among

themselves, and seldom molested peaceable citizens, for they considered it small credit to add to their

trophies so cheap a bauble as the death of a man who was "not on the shoot," as they phrased it. They killed

each other on slight provocation, and hoped and expected to be killed themselves for they held it almost

I remember an instance of a desperado's contempt for such small game as a private citizen's life. I was taking

a late supper in a restaurant one night, with two reporters and a little printer namedBrown, for

instanceany name will do. Presently a stranger with a longtailed coat on came in, and not noticing

Brown's hat, which was lying in a chair, sat down on it. Little Brown sprang up and became abusive in a

moment. The stranger smiled, smoothed out the hat, and offered it to Brown with profuse apologies couched

in caustic sarcasm, and begged Brown not to destroy him. Brown threw off his coat and challenged the man

to fight abused him, threatened him, impeached his courage, and urged and even implored him to fight;

and in the meantime the smiling stranger placed himself under our protection in mock distress. But presently

"Very well, gentlemen, if we must fight, we must, I suppose. But don't rush into danger and then say I gave

you no warning. I am more than a match for all of you when I get started. I will give you proofs, and then if

The table we were sitting at was about five feet long, and unusually cumbersome and heavy. He asked us to

put our hands on the dishes and hold them in their places a momentone of them was a large oval dish with

a portly roast on it. Then he sat down, tilted up one end of the table, set two of the legs on his knees, took the

end of the table between his teeth, took his hands away, and pulled down with his teeth till the table came up

to a level position, dishes and all! He said he could lift a keg of nails with his teeth. He picked up a common

glass tumbler and bit a semicircle out of it. Then he opened his bosom and showed us a network of knife

and bullet scars; showed us more on his arms and face, and said he believed he had bullets enough in his

body to make a pig of lead. He was armed to the teeth. He closed with the remark that he was Mr. of

Caribooa celebrated name whereat we shook in our shoes. I would publish the name, but for the suspicion

that he might come and carve me. He finally inquired if Brown still thirsted for blood. Brown turned the thing

With the permission of the reader, I will group together, in the next chapter, some samples of life in our small

mountain village in the old days of desperadoism. I was there at the time. The reader will observe

peculiarities in our official society; and he will observe also, an instance of how, in new countries, murders

An extract or two from the newspapers of the day will furnish a photograph that can need no embellishment:

Oh, there was no excitement about ithe merely "remarked" the small circumstance!

Four months later the following item appeared in the same paper (the Enterprise). In this item the name of

one of the city officers above referred to (Deputy Marshal Jack Williams) occurs again:

This efficient city officer, Jack Williams, had the common reputation of being a burglar, a highwayman and a

desperado. It was said that he had several times drawn his revolver and levied money contributions on

Five months after the above item appeared, Williams was assassinated while sitting at a card table one night;

a gun was thrust through the crack of the door and Williams dropped from his chair riddled with balls. It was

said, at the time, that Williams had been for some time aware that a party of his own sort (desperadoes) had

sworn away his life; and it was generally believed among the people that Williams's friends and enemies

would make the assassination memorableand useful, tooby a wholesale destruction of each other.

It did not so happen, but still, times were not dull during the next twentyfour hours, for within that time a

woman was killed by a pistol shot, a man was brained with a slung shot, and a man named Reeder was also

disposed of permanently. Some matters in the Enterprise account of the killing of Reeder are worth

nothingespecially the accommodating complaisance of a Virginia justice of the peace. The italics in the

Reederor at least what was left of himsurvived his wounds two days! Nothing was ever done with

Trial by jury is the palladium of our liberties. I do not know what a palladium is, having never seen a

palladium, but it is a good thing no doubt at any rate. Not less than a hundred men have been murdered in

Nevadaperhaps I would be within bounds if I said three hundredand as far as I can learn, only two

persons have suffered the death penalty there. However, four or five who had no money and no political

influence have been punished by imprisonmentone languished in prison as much as eight months, I think.

However, one prophecy was verified, at any rate. It was asserted by the desperadoes that one of their brethren

(Joe McGee, a special policeman) was known to be the conspirator chosen by lot to assassinate Williams; and

they also asserted that doom had been pronounced against McGee, and that he would be assassinated in

exactly the same manner that had been adopted for the destruction of Williamsa prophecy which came true

a year later. After twelve months of distress (for McGee saw a fancied assassin in every man that approached

him), he made the last of many efforts to get out of the country unwatched. He went to Carson and sat down

in a saloon to wait for the stageit would leave at four in the morning. But as the night waned and the crowd

thinned, he grew uneasy, and told the barkeeper that assassins were on his track. The barkeeper told him to

stay in the middle of the room, then, and not go near the door, or the window by the stove. But a fatal

fascination seduced him to the neighborhood of the stove every now and then, and repeatedly the bar keeper

brought him back to the middle of the room and warned him to remain there. But he could not. At three in the

morning he again returned to the stove and sat down by a stranger. Before the barkeeper could get to him

with another warning whisper, some one outside fired through the window and riddled McGee's breast with

slugs, killing him almost instantly. By the same discharge the stranger at McGee's side also received

These murder and jury statistics remind me of a certain very extraordinary trial and execution of twenty years

ago; it is a scrap of history familiar to all old Californians, and worthy to be known by other peoples of the

earth that love simple, straightforward justice unencumbered with nonsense. I would apologize for this

digression but for the fact that the information I am about to offer is apology enough in itself. And since I

digress constantly anyhow, perhaps it is as well to eschew apologies altogether and thus prevent their

Capt. Ned Blakelythat name will answer as well as any other fictitious one (for he was still with the living

at last accounts, and may not desire to be famous)sailed ships out of the harbor of San Francisco for many

years. He was a stalwart, warmhearted, eagleeyed veteran, who had been a sailor nearly fifty yearsa

sailor from early boyhood. He was a rough, honest creature, full of pluck, and just as full of hardheaded

simplicity, too. He hated trifling conventionalities"business" was the word, with him. He had all a sailor's

vindictiveness against the quips and quirks of the law, and steadfastly believed that the first and last aim and

He sailed for the Chincha Islands in command of a guano ship. He had a fine crew, but his negro mate was

his peton him he had for years lavished his admiration and esteem. It was Capt. Ned's first voyage to the

Chinchas, but his fame had gone before himthe fame of being a man who would fight at the dropping of a

handkerchief, when imposed upon, and would stand no nonsense. It was a fame well earned. Arrived in the

islands, he found that the staple of conversation was the exploits of one Bill Noakes, a bully, the mate of a

trading ship. This man had created a small reign of terror there. At nine o'clock at night, Capt. Ned, all alone,

was pacing his deck in the starlight. A form ascended the side, and approached him. Capt. Ned said:

"I've heard of Capt. Ned Blakely, and one of us is a better man than 'totherI'll know which, before I go

"You've come to the right shopI'm your man. I'll learn you to come aboard this ship without an invite."

He seized Noakes, backed him against the mainmast, pounded his face to a pulp, and then threw him

Noakes was not convinced. He returned the next night, got the pulp renewed, and went overboard head first,

A week after this, while Noakes was carousing with a sailor crowd on shore, at noonday, Capt. Ned's colored

mate came along, and Noakes tried to pick a quarrel with him. The negro evaded the trap, and tried to get

away. Noakes followed him up; the negro began to run; Noakes fired on him with a revolver and killed him.

Half a dozen seacaptains witnessed the whole affair. Noakes retreated to the small aftercabin of his ship,

with two other bullies, and gave out that death would be the portion of any man that intruded there. There

was no attempt made to follow the villains; there was no disposition to do it, and indeed very little thought of

such an enterprise. There were no courts and no officers; there was no government; the islands belonged to

Peru, and Peru was far away; she had no official representative on the ground; and neither had any other

However, Capt. Ned was not perplexing his head about such things. They concerned him not. He was boiling

with rage and furious for justice. At nine o'clock at night he loaded a doublebarreled gun with slugs, fished

out a pair of handcuffs, got a ship's lantern, summoned his quartermaster, and went ashore. He said:

"Very well, then. Take the lantern. Carry it just under your chin. I'll walk behind you and rest this gunbarrel

on your shoulder, p'inting forwardso. Keep your lantern well up so's I can see things ahead of you good.

I'm going to march in on Noakesand take himand jug the other chaps. If you flinchwell, you know

In this order they filed aboard softly, arrived at Noakes's den, the quartermaster pushed the door open, and the

"I'm Ned Blakely. I've got you under fire. Don't you move without ordersany of you. You two kneel down

in the corner; faces to the wall now. Bill Noakes, put these handcuffs on; now come up close.

Quartermaster, fasten 'em. All right. Don't stir, sir. Quartermaster, put the key in the outside of the door. Now,

men, I'm going to lock you two in; and if you try to burst through this doorwell, you've heard of me. Bill

Noakes spent the night on board Blakely's ship, a prisoner under strict guard. Early in the morning Capt. Ned

called in all the seacaptains in the harbor and invited them, with nautical ceremony, to be present on board

"Then I'm going to hang him, that's all. Everybody I've talked to talks just the same way you do. Everybody

says he killed the nigger, everybody knows he killed the nigger, and yet every lubber of you wants him tried

for it. I don't understand such bloody foolishness as that. Tried! Mind you, I don't object to trying him, if it's

got to be done to give satisfaction; and I'll be there, and chip in and help, too; but put it off till

afternoonput it off till afternoon, for I'll have my hands middling full till after the burying"

"Why, what do you mean? Are you going to hang him any howand try him afterward?"

"Didn't I say I was going to hang him? I never saw such people as you. What's the difference? You ask a

favor, and then you ain't satisfied when you get it. Before or after's all oneyou know how the trial will go.

He killed the nigger. SayI must be going. If your mate would like to come to the hanging, fetch him along.

There was a stir in the camp. The captains came in a body and pleaded with Capt. Ned not to do this rash

thing. They promised that they would create a court composed of captains of the best character; they would

empanel a jury; they would conduct everything in a way becoming the serious nature of the business in hand,

and give the case an impartial hearing and the accused a fair trial. And they said it would be murder, and

punishable by the American courts if he persisted and hung the accused on his ship. They pleaded hard. Capt.

"Gentlemen, I'm not stubborn and I'm not unreasonable. I'm always willing to do just as near right as I can.

"If he's proven guilty. Great Neptune, ain't he guilty? This beats my time. Why you all know he's guilty."

But at last they satisfied him that they were projecting nothing underhanded. Then he said:

"Well, all right. You go on and try him and I'll go down and overhaul his conscience and prepare him to

golike enough he needs it, and I don't want to send him off without a show for hereafter."

This was another obstacle. They finally convinced him that it was necessary to have the accused in court.

"No, sir, I prefer to fetch him myselfhe don't get out of my hands. Besides, I've got to go to the ship to get

The court assembled with due ceremony, empaneled a jury, and presently Capt. Ned entered, leading the

prisoner with one hand and carrying a Bible and a rope in the other. He seated himself by the side of his

captive and told the court to "up anchor and make sail." Then he turned a searching eye on the jury, and

"You're here to interfere, you see. Now you vote right, do you hear?or else there'll be a doublebarreled

inquest here when this trial's off, and your remainders will go home in a couple of baskets."

"Come alongyou're my meat now, my lad, anyway. Gentlemen you've done yourselves proud. I invite you

all to come and see that I do it all straight. Follow me to the canyon, a mile above here."

Capt. Ned's patience was at an end. His wrath was boundless. The subject of a sheriff was judiciously

When the crowd arrived at the canyon, Capt. Ned climbed a tree and arranged the halter, then came down and

noosed his man. He opened his Bible, and laid aside his hat. Selecting a chapter at random, he read it through,

"Lad, you are about to go aloft and give an account of yourself; and the lighter a man's manifest is, as far as

sin's concerned, the better for him. Make a clean breast, man, and carry a log with you that'll bear inspection.

The captain read another chapter, pausing, from time to time, to impress the effect. Then he talked an earnest,

No replyother than a malignant scowl. The captain now read the first and second chapters of Genesis, with

deep feelingpaused a moment, closed the book reverently, and said with a perceptible savor of satisfaction:

"There. Four chapters. There's few that would have took the pains with you that I have."

Then he swung up the condemned, and made the rope fast; stood by and timed him half an hour with his

watch, and then delivered the body to the court. A little after, as he stood contemplating the motionless

figure, a doubt came into his face; evidently he felt a twinge of consciencea misgivingand he said with a

"Well, p'raps I ought to burnt him, maybe. But I was trying to do for the best."

When the history of this affair reached California (it was in the "early days") it made a deal of talk, but did

not diminish the captain's popularity in any degree. It increased it, indeed. California had a population then

that "inflicted" justice after a fashion that was simplicity and primitiveness itself, and could therefore admire

Vice flourished luxuriantly during the heyday of our "flush times." The saloons were overburdened with

custom; so were the police courts, the gambling dens, the brothels and the jailsunfailing signs of high

prosperity in a mining regionin any region for that matter. Is it not so? A crowded police court docket is

the surest of all signs that trade is brisk and money plenty. Still, there is one other sign; it comes last, but

when it does come it establishes beyond cavil that the "flush times" are at the flood. This is the birth of the

"literary" paper. The Weekly Occidental, "devoted to literature," made its appearance in Virginia. All the

literary people were engaged to write for it. Mr. F. was to edit it. He was a felicitous skirmisher with a pen,

and a man who could say happy things in a crisp, neat way. Once, while editor of the Union, he had disposed

of a labored, incoherent, twocolumn attack made upon him by a contemporary, with a single line, which, at

first glance, seemed to contain a solemn and tremendous complimentviz.: "THE LOGIC OF OUR

afterthought to invest the remark with another and "more different" meaning by supplying for himself and at

his own leisure the rest of the Scripture" in that it passeth understanding." He once said of a little,

halfstarved, wayside community that had no subsistence except what they could get by preying upon chance

passengers who stopped over with them a day when traveling by the overland stage, that in their Church

service they had altered the Lord's Prayer to read: "Give us this day our daily stranger!"

We expected great things of the Occidental. Of course it could not get along without an original novel, and so

we made arrangements to hurl into the work the full strength of the company. Mrs. F. was an able romancist

of the ineffable schoolI know no other name to apply to a school whose heroes are all dainty and all

perfect. She wrote the opening chapter, and introduced a lovely blonde simpleton who talked nothing but

pearls and poetry and who was virtuous to the verge of eccentricity. She also introduced a young French

Duke of aggravated refinement, in love with the blonde. Mr. F. followed next week, with a brilliant lawyer

who set about getting the Duke's estates into trouble, and a sparkling young lady of high society who fell to

fascinating the Duke and impairing the appetite of the blonde. Mr. D., a dark and bloody editor of one of the

dailies, followed Mr. F., the third week, introducing a mysterious Roscicrucian who transmuted metals, held

consultations with the devil in a cave at dead of night, and cast the horoscope of the several heroes and

heroines in such a way as to provide plenty of trouble for their future careers and breed a solemn and awful

public interest in the novel. He also introduced a cloaked and masked melodramatic miscreant, put him on a

salary and set him on the midnight track of the Duke with a poisoned dagger. He also created an Irish

coachman with a rich brogue and placed him in the service of the societyyounglady with an ulterior

About this time there arrived in Virginia a dissolute stranger with a literary turn of mindrather seedy he

was, but very quiet and unassuming; almost diffident, indeed. He was so gentle, and his manners were so

pleasing and kindly, whether he was sober or intoxicated, that he made friends of all who came in contact

with him. He applied for literary work, offered conclusive evidence that he wielded an easy and practiced

pen, and so Mr. F. engaged him at once to help write the novel. His chapter was to follow Mr. D.'s, and mine

was to come next. Now what does this fellow do but go off and get drunk and then proceed to his quarters

and set to work with his imagination in a state of chaos, and that chaos in a condition of extravagant activity.

The result may be guessed. He scanned the chapters of his predecessors, found plenty of heroes and heroines

already created, and was satisfied with them; he decided to introduce no more; with all the confidence that

whisky inspires and all the easy complacency it gives to its servant, he then launched himself lovingly into

his work: he married the coachman to the societyyounglady for the sake of the scandal; married the Duke

to the blonde's stepmother, for the sake of the sensation; stopped the desperado's salary; created a

misunderstanding between the devil and the Roscicrucian; threw the Duke's property into the wicked lawyer's

hands; made the lawyer's upbraiding conscience drive him to drink, thence to delirium tremens, thence to

suicide; broke the coachman's neck; let his widow succumb to contumely, neglect, poverty and consumption;

caused the blonde to drown herself, leaving her clothes on the bank with the customary note pinned to them

forgiving the Duke and hoping he would be happy; revealed to the Duke, by means of the usual strawberry

mark on left arm, that he had married his own longlost mother and destroyed his longlost sister; instituted

the proper and necessary suicide of the Duke and the Duchess in order to compass poetical justice; opened

the earth and let the Roscicrucian through, accompanied with the accustomed smoke and thunder and smell of

brimstone, and finished with the promise that in the next chapter, after holding a general inquest, he would

take up the surviving character of the novel and tell what became of the devil! It read with singular

smoothness, and with a "dead" earnestness that was funny enough to suffocate a body. But there was war

when it came in. The other novelists were furious. The mild stranger, not yet more than half sober, stood

there, under a scathing fire of vituperation, meek and bewildered, looking from one to another of his

assailants, and wondering what he could have done to invoke such a storm. When a lull came at last, he said

his say gently and appealinglysaid he did not rightly remember what he had written, but was sure he had

tried to do the best he could, and knew his object had been to make the novel not only pleasant and plausible

The bombardment began again. The novelists assailed his illchosen adjectives and demolished them with a

storm of denunciation and ridicule. And so the siege went on. Every time the stranger tried to appease the

enemy he only made matters worse. Finally he offered to rewrite the chapter. This arrested hostilities. The

indignation gradually quieted down, peace reigned again and the sufferer retired in safety and got him to his

But on the way thither the evil angel tempted him and he got drunk again. And again his imagination went

mad. He led the heroes and heroines a wilder dance than ever; and yet all through it ran that same convincing

air of honesty and earnestness that had marked his first work. He got the characters into the most

extraordinary situations, put them through the most surprising performances, and made them talk the

strangest talk! But the chapter cannot be described. It was symmetrically crazy; it was artistically absurd; and

it had explanatory footnotes that were fully as curious as the text. I remember one of the "situations," and will

offer it as an example of the whole. He altered the character of the brilliant lawyer, and made him a

greathearted, splendid fellow; gave him fame and riches, and set his age at thirtythree years. Then he made

the blonde discover, through the help of the Roscicrucian and the melodramatic miscreant, that while the

Duke loved her money ardently and wanted it, he secretly felt a sort of leaning toward the

societyyounglady. Stung to the quick, she tore her affections from him and bestowed them with tenfold

power upon the lawyer, who responded with consuming zeal. But the parents would none of it. What they

wanted in the family was a Duke; and a Duke they were determined to have; though they confessed that next

to the Duke the lawyer had their preference. Necessarily the blonde now went into a decline. The parents

were alarmed. They pleaded with her to marry the Duke, but she steadfastly refused, and pined on. Then they

laid a plan. They told her to wait a year and a day, and if at the end of that time she still felt that she could not

marry the Duke, she might marry the lawyer with their full consent. The result was as they had foreseen:

gladness came again, and the flush of returning health. Then the parents took the next step in their scheme.

They had the family physician recommend a long sea voyage and much land travel for the thorough

restoration of the blonde's strength; and they invited the Duke to be of the party. They judged that the Duke's

constant presence and the lawyer's protracted absence would do the restfor they did not invite the lawyer.

So they set sail in a steamer for Americaand the third day out, when their seasickness called truce and

permitted them to take their first meal at the public table, behold there sat the lawyer! The Duke and party

made the best of an awkward situation; the voyage progressed, and the vessel neared America.

But, by and by, two hundred miles off New Bedford, the ship took fire; she burned to the water's edge; of all

her crew and passengers, only thirty were saved. They floated about the sea half an afternoon and all night

long. Among them were our friends. The lawyer, by superhuman exertions, had saved the blonde and her

parents, swimming back and forth two hundred yards and bringing one each time(the girl first). The Duke

had saved himself. In the morning two whale ships arrived on the scene and sent their boats. The weather was

stormy and the embarkation was attended with much confusion and excitement. The lawyer did his duty like

a man; helped his exhausted and insensible blonde, her parents and some others into a boat (the Duke helped

himself in); then a child fell overboard at the other end of the raft and the lawyer rushed thither and helped

half a dozen people fish it out, under the stimulus of its mother's screams. Then he ran backa few seconds

too latethe blonde's boat was under way. So he had to take the other boat, and go to the other ship. The

storm increased and drove the vessels out of sight of each otherdrove them whither it would.

When it calmed, at the end of three days, the blonde's ship was seven hundred miles north of Boston and the

other about seven hundred south of that port. The blonde's captain was bound on a whaling cruise in the

North Atlantic and could not go back such a distance or make a port without orders; such being nautical law.

The lawyer's captain was to cruise in the North Pacific, and he could not go back or make a port without

orders. All the lawyer's money and baggage were in the blonde's boat and went to the blonde's shipso his

captain made him work his passage as a common sailor. When both ships had been cruising nearly a year, the

one was off the coast of Greenland and the other in Behring's Strait. The blonde had long ago been wellnigh

persuaded that her lawyer had been washed overboard and lost just before the whale ships reached the raft,

and now, under the pleadings of her parents and the Duke she was at last beginning to nerve herself for the

But she would not yield a day before the date set. The weeks dragged on, the time narrowed, orders were

given to deck the ship for the weddinga wedding at sea among icebergs and walruses. Five days more and

all would be over. So the blonde reflected, with a sigh and a tear. Oh where was her true loveand why,

why did he not come and save her? At that moment he was lifting his harpoon to strike a whale in Behring's

Strait, five thousand miles away, by the way of the Arctic Ocean, or twenty thousand by the way of the

Hornthat was the reason. He struck, but not with perfect aimhis foot slipped and he fell in the whale's

mouth and went down his throat. He was insensible five days. Then he came to himself and heard voices;

daylight was streaming through a hole cut in the whale's roof. He climbed out and astonished the sailors who

were hoisting blubber up a ship's side. He recognized the vessel, flew aboard, surprised the wedding party at

There were footnotes to this extravagant piece of literature wherein the author endeavored to show that the

whole thing was within the possibilities; he said he got the incident of the whale traveling from Behring's

Strait to the coast of Greenland, five thousand miles in five days, through the Arctic Ocean, from Charles

Reade's "Love Me Little Love Me Long," and considered that that established the fact that the thing could be

done; and he instanced Jonah's adventure as proof that a man could live in a whale's belly, and added that if a

There was a fiercer storm than ever in the editorial sanctum now, and the stranger was peremptorily

discharged, and his manuscript flung at his head. But he had already delayed things so much that there was

not time for some one else to rewrite the chapter, and so the paper came out without any novel in it. It was but

a feeble, struggling, stupid journal, and the absence of the novel probably shook public confidence; at any

rate, before the first side of the next issue went to press, the Weekly Occidental died as peacefully as an

An effort was made to resurrect it, with the proposed advantage of a telling new title, and Mr. F. said that The

Phenix would be just the name for it, because it would give the idea of a resurrection from its dead ashes in a

new and undreamed of condition of splendor; but some low priced smarty on one of the dailies suggested

that we call it the Lazarus; and inasmuch as the people were not profound in Scriptural matters but thought

the resurrected Lazarus and the dilapidated mendicant that begged in the rich man's gateway were one and the

same person, the name became the laughing stock of the town, and killed the paper for good and all.

I was sorry enough, for I was very proud of being connected with a literary paperprouder than I have ever

been of anything since, perhaps. I had written some rhymes for itpoetry I considered itand it was a great

grief to me that the production was on the "first side" of the issue that was not completed, and hence did not

see the light. But time brings its revengesI can put it in here; it will answer in place of a tear dropped to the

memory of the lost Occidental. The idea (not the chief idea, but the vehicle that bears it) was probably

suggested by the old song called "The Raging Canal," but I cannot remember now. I do remember, though,

On the Erie Canal, it was, All on a summer's day, I sailed forth with my parents Far away to Albany.

From out the clouds at noon that day There came a dreadful storm, That piled the billows high about, And

A man came rushing from a house, Saying, "Snub up your boat I pray, [The customary canal technicality for

Our captain cast one glance astern, Then forward glanced he, And said, "My wife and little ones I never more

Said Dollinger the pilot man, In noble words, but few, "Fear not, but lean on Dollinger, And he will fetch

The boat drove on, the frightened mules Tore through the rain and wind, And bravely still, in danger's post,

"Come 'board, come 'board," the captain cried, "Nor tempt so wild a storm;" But still the raging mules

Then said the captain to us all, "Alas, 'tis plain to me, The greater danger is not there, But here upon the sea.

So let us strive, while life remains, To save all souls on board, And then if die at last we must, Let . . . . I

Said Dollinger the pilot man, Tow'ring above the crew, "Fear not, but trust in Dollinger, And he will fetch

"Low bridge! low bridge!" all heads went down, The laboring bark sped on; A mill we passed, we passed

church, Hamlets, and fields of corn; And all the world came out to see, And chased along the shore Crying,

"Alas, alas, the sheeted rain, The wind, the tempest's roar! Alas, the gallant ship and crew, Can nothing help

And from our deck sad eyes looked out Across the stormy scene: The tossing wake of billows aft, The

bending forests green, The chickens sheltered under carts In lee of barn the cows, The skurrying swine with

"She balances! She wavers! Now let her go about! If she misses stays and broaches to, We're all"then with

a shout,] "Huray! huray! Avast! belay! Take in more sail! Lord, what a gale! Ho, boy, haul taut on the hind

"A quarterthree!'tis shoaling fast! Three feet large!three feet! Three feet scant!" I cried in

Said Dollinger, the pilot man, As on the vessel flew, "Fear not, but trust in Dollinger, And he will fetch you

A panic struck the bravest hearts, The boldest cheek turned pale; For plain to all, this shoaling said A leak

had burst the ditch's bed! And, straight as bolt from crossbow sped, Our ship swept on, with shoaling lead,

"Sever the towline! Cripple the mules!" Too late! There comes a shock! Another length, and the fated craft

Then gathered together the shipwrecked crew And took one last embrace, While sorrowful tears from

despairing eyes Ran down each hopeless face; And some did think of their little ones Whom they never more

might see, And others of waiting wives at home, And mothers that grieved would be.

But of all the children of misery there On that poor sinking frame, But one spake words of hope and faith,

And I worshipped as they came: Said Dollinger the pilot man, (O brave heart, strong and true!) "Fear

Lo! scarce the words have passed his lips The dauntless prophet say'th, When every soul about him seeth A

And count ye all, both great and small, As numbered with the dead: For mariner for forty year, On Erie, boy

So overboard a keg of nails And anvils three we threw, Likewise four bales of gunnysacks, Two hundred

pounds of glue, Two sacks of corn, four ditto wheat, A box of books, a cow, A violin, Lord Byron's works, A

For straight a farmer brought a plank, (Mysteriously inspired) And laying it unto the ship, In silent awe

Then every sufferer stood amazed That pilot man before; A moment stood. Then wondering turned, And

Since I desire, in this chapter, to say an instructive word or two about the silver mines, the reader may take

this fair warning and skip, if he chooses. The year 1863 was perhaps the very top blossom and culmination of

the "flush times." Virginia swarmed with men and vehicles to that degree that the place looked like a very

hivethat is when one's vision could pierce through the thick fog of alkali dust that was generally blowing

in summer. I will say, concerning this dust, that if you drove ten miles through it, you and your horses would

be coated with it a sixteenth of an inch thick and present an outside appearance that was a uniform pale

yellow color, and your buggy would have three inches of dust in it, thrown there by the wheels. The delicate

scales used by the assayers were inclosed in glass cases intended to be airtight, and yet some of this dust

was so impalpable and so invisibly fine that it would get in, somehow, and impair the accuracy of those

Speculation ran riot, and yet there was a world of substantial business going on, too. All freights were

brought over the mountains from California (150 miles) by packtrain partly, and partly in huge wagons

drawn by such long mule teams that each team amounted to a procession, and it did seem, sometimes, that the

grand combined procession of animals stretched unbroken from Virginia to California. Its long route was

traceable clear across the deserts fo the Territory by the writhing serpent of dust it lifted up. By these wagons,

freights over that hundred and fifty miles were $200 a ton for small lots (same price for all express matter

brought by stage), and $100 a ton for full loads. One Virginia firm received one hundred tons of freight a

month, and paid $10,000 a month freightage. In the winter the freights were much higher. All the bullion was

shipped in bars by stage to San Francisco (a bar was usually about twice the size of a pig of lead and

contained from $1,500 to $3,000 according to the amount of gold mixed with the silver), and the freight on it

(when the shipment was large) was one and a quarter per cent. of its intrinsic value.

So, the freight on these bars probably averaged something more than $25 each. Small shippers paid two per

cent. There were three stages a day, each way, and I have seen the outgoing stages carry away a third of a

ton of bullion each, and more than once I saw them divide a twoton lot and take it off. However, these were

extraordinary events. [Mr. Valentine, Wells Fargo's agent, has handled all the bullion shipped through the

Virginia office for many a month. To his memorywhich is excellentwe are indebted for the following

exhibit of the company's business in the Virginia office since the first of January, 1862: From January 1st to

April 1st, about $270,000 worth of bullion passed through that office, during the next quarter, $570,000; next

quarter, $800,000; next quarter, $956,000; next quarter, $1,275,000; and for the quarter ending on the 30th of

last June, about $1,600,000. Thus in a year and a half, the Virginia office only shipped $5,330,000 in bullion.

During the year 1862 they shipped $2,615,000, so we perceive the average shipments have more than

doubled in the last six months. This gives us room to promise for the Virginia office $500,000 a month for

the year 1863 (though perhaps, judging by the steady increase in the business, we are under estimating,

somewhat). This gives us $6,000,000 for the year. Gold Hill and Silver City together can beat uswe will

give them $10,000,000. To Dayton, Empire City, Ophir and Carson City, we will allow an aggregate of

$8,000,000, which is not over the mark, perhaps, and may possibly be a little under it. To Esmeralda we give

$4,000,000. To Reese River and Humboldt $2,000,000, which is liberal now, but may not be before the year

is out. So we prognosticate that the yield of bullion this year will be about $30,000,000. Placing the number

of mills in the Territory at one hundred, this gives to each the labor of producing $300,000 in bullion during

the twelve months. Allowing them to run three hundred days in the year (which none of them more than do),

this makes their work average $1,000 a day. Say the mills average twenty tons of rock a day and this rock

worth $50 as a general thing, and you have the actual work of our one hundred mills figured down "to a

spot"$1,000 a day each, and $30,000,000 a year in the aggregate.Enterprise. [A considerable over

Two tons of silver bullion would be in the neighborhood of forty bars, and the freight on it over $1,000. Each

coach always carried a deal of ordinary express matter beside, and also from fifteen to twenty passengers at

from $25 to $30 a head. With six stages going all the time, Wells, Fargo and Co.'s Virginia City business was

All along under the centre of Virginia and Gold Hill, for a couple of miles, ran the great Comstock silver

lodea vein of ore from fifty to eighty feet thick between its solid walls of rocka vein as wide as some of

New York's streets. I will remind the reader that in Pennsylvania a coal vein only eight feet wide is

Virginia was a busy city of streets and houses above ground. Under it was another busy city, down in the

bowels of the earth, where a great population of men thronged in and out among an intricate maze of tunnels

and drifts, flitting hither and thither under a winking sparkle of lights, and over their heads towered a vast

web of interlocking timbers that held the walls of the gutted Comstock apart. These timbers were as large as a

man's body, and the framework stretched upward so far that no eye could pierce to its top through the closing

gloom. It was like peering up through the cleanpicked ribs and bones of some colossal skeleton. Imagine

such a framework two miles long, sixty feet wide, and higher than any church spire in America. Imagine this

stately lattice work stretching down Broadway, from the St. Nicholas to Wall street, and a Fourth of July

procession, reduced to pigmies, parading on top of it and flaunting their flags, high above the pinnacle of

Trinity steeple. One can imagine that, but he cannot well imagine what that forest of timbers cost, from the

time they were felled in the pineries beyond Washoe Lake, hauled up and around Mount Davidson at

atrocious rates of freightage, then squared, let down into the deep maw of the mine and built up there. Twenty

ample fortunes would not timber one of the greatest of those silver mines. The Spanish proverb says it

requires a gold mine to "run" a silver one, and it is true. A beggar with a silver mine is a pitiable pauper

I spoke of the underground Virginia as a city. The Gould and Curry is only one single mine under there,

among a great many others; yet the Gould and Curry's streets of dismal drifts and tunnels were five miles in

extent, altogether, and its population five hundred miners. Taken as a whole, the underground city had some

thirty miles of streets and a population of five or six thousand. In this present day some of those populations

are at work from twelve to sixteen hundred feet under Virginia and Gold Hill, and the signalbells that tell

them what the superintendent above ground desires them to do are struck by telegraph as we strike a fire

alarm. Sometimes men fall down a shaft, there, a thousand feet deep. In such cases, the usual plan is to hold

If you wish to visit one of those mines, you may walk through a tunnel about half a mile long if you prefer it,

or you may take the quicker plan of shooting like a dart down a shaft, on a small platform. It is like tumbling

down through an empty steeple, feet first. When you reach the bottom, you take a candle and tramp through

drifts and tunnels where throngs of men are digging and blasting; you watch them send up tubs full of great

lumps of stonesilver ore; you select choice specimens from the mass, as souvenirs; you admire the world

of skeleton timbering; you reflect frequently that you are buried under a mountain, a thousand feet below

daylight; being in the bottom of the mine you climb from "gallery" to "gallery," up endless ladders that stand

straight up and down; when your legs fail you at last, you lie down in a small boxcar in a cramped "incline"

like a halfupended sewer and are dragged up to daylight feeling as if you are crawling through a coffin that

has no end to it. Arrived at the top, you find a busy crowd of men receiving the ascending cars and tubs and

dumping the ore from an elevation into long rows of bins capable of holding half a dozen tons each; under the

bins are rows of wagons loading from chutes and trapdoors in the bins, and down the long street is a

procession of these wagons wending toward the silver mills with their rich freight. It is all "done," now, and

there you are. You need never go down again, for you have seen it all. If you have forgotten the process of

reducing the ore in the mill and making the silver bars, you can go back and find it again in my Esmeralda

Of course these mines cave in, in places, occasionally, and then it is worth one's while to take the risk of

descending into them and observing the crushing power exerted by the pressing weight of a settling

mountain. I published such an experience in the Enterprise, once, and from it I will take an extract:

Every now and then, in these days, the boys used to tell me I ought to get one Jim Blaine to tell me the

stirring story of his grandfather's old rambut they always added that I must not mention the matter unless

Jim was drunk at the timejust comfortably and sociably drunk. They kept this up until my curiosity was on

the rack to hear the story. I got to haunting Blaine; but it was of no use, the boys always found fault with his

condition; he was often moderately but never satisfactorily drunk. I never watched a man's condition with

such absorbing interest, such anxious solicitude; I never so pined to see a man uncompromisingly drunk

before. At last, one evening I hurried to his cabin, for I learned that this time his situation was such that even

the most fastidious could find no fault with ithe was tranquilly, serenely, symmetrically drunknot a

hiccup to mar his voice, not a cloud upon his brain thick enough to obscure his memory. As I entered, he was

sitting upon an empty powder keg, with a clay pipe in one hand and the other raised to command silence.

His face was round, red, and very serious; his throat was bare and his hair tumbled; in general appearance and

costume he was a stalwart miner of the period. On the pine table stood a candle, and its dim light revealed

"the boys" sitting here and there on bunks, candleboxes, powderkegs, etc. They said:

'I don't reckon them times will ever come again. There never was a more bullier old ram than what he was.

Grandfather fetched him from Illinois got him of a man by the name of YatesBill Yatesmaybe you

might have heard of him; his father was a deaconBaptistand he was a rustler, too; a man had to get up

ruther early to get the start of old Thankful Yates; it was him that put the Greens up to jining teams with my

Seth Green was prob'ly the pick of the flock; he married a Wilkerson Sarah Wilkersongood cretur, she

wasone of the likeliest heifers that was ever raised in old Stoddard, everybody said that knowed her. She

could heft a bar'l of flour as easy as I can flirt a flapjack. And spin? Don't mention it! Independent? Humph!

When Sile Hawkins come a browsing around her, she let him know that for all his tin he couldn't trot in

harness alongside of her. You see, Sile Hawkins wasno, it warn't Sile Hawkins, after allit was a galoot

by the name of Filkins I disremember his first name; but he was a stumpcome into pra'r meeting drunk,

one night, hooraying for Nixon, becuz he thought it was a primary; and old deacon Ferguson up and scooted

him through the window and he lit on old Miss Jefferson's head, poor old filly. She was a good soulhad a

glass eye and used to lend it to old Miss Wagner, that hadn't any, to receive company in; it warn't big enough,

and when Miss Wagner warn't noticing, it would get twisted around in the socket, and look up, maybe, or out

to one side, and every which way, while t' other one was looking as straight ahead as a spyglass.

Grown people didn't mind it, but it most always made the children cry, it was so sort of scary. She tried

packing it in raw cotton, but it wouldn't work, somehowthe cotton would get loose and stick out and look

so kind of awful that the children couldn't stand it no way. She was always dropping it out, and turning up her

old deadlight on the company empty, and making them oncomfortable, becuz she never could tell when it

hopped out, being blind on that side, you see. So somebody would have to hunch her and say, "Your game

eye has fetched loose. Miss Wagner dear" and then all of them would have to sit and wait till she jammed

it in againwrong side before, as a general thing, and green as a bird's egg, being a bashful cretur and easy

sot back before company. But being wrong side before warn't much difference, anyway; becuz her own eye

was sky blue and the glass one was yaller on the front side, so whichever way she turned it it didn't match

Old Miss Wagner was considerable on the borrow, she was. When she had a quilting, or Dorcas S'iety at her

house she gen'ally borrowed Miss Higgins's wooden leg to stump around on; it was considerable shorter than

her other pin, but much she minded that. She said she couldn't abide crutches when she had company, becuz

they were so slow; said when she had company and things had to be done, she wanted to get up and hump

herself. She was as bald as a jug, and so she used to borrow Miss Jacops's wig Miss Jacops was the

coffinpeddler's wifea ratty old buzzard, he was, that used to go roosting around where people was sick,

waiting for 'em; and there that old rip would sit all day, in the shade, on a coffin that he judged would fit the

can'idate; and if it was a slow customer and kind of uncertain, he'd fetch his rations and a blanket along and

sleep in the coffin nights. He was anchored out that way, in frosty weather, for about three weeks, once,

before old Robbins's place, waiting for him; and after that, for as much as two years, Jacops was not on

speaking terms with the old man, on account of his disapp'inting him. He got one of his feet froze, and lost

money, too, becuz old Robbins took a favorable turn and got well. The next time Robbins got sick, Jacops

tried to make up with him, and varnished up the same old coffin and fetched it along; but old Robbins was

too many for him; he had him in, and 'peared to be powerful weak; he bought the coffin for ten dollars and

Jacops was to pay it back and twentyfive more besides if Robbins didn't like the coffin after he'd tried it.

And then Robbins died, and at the funeral he bursted off the lid and riz up in his shroud and told the parson to

let up on the performances, becuz he could not stand such a coffin as that. You see he had been in a trance

once before, when he was young, and he took the chances on another, cal'lating that if he made the trip it was

money in his pocket, and if he missed fire he couldn't lose a cent. And by George he sued Jacops for the rhino

and got jedgment; and he set up the coffin in his back parlor and said he 'lowed to take his time, now. It was

always an aggravation to Jacops, the way that miserable old thing acted. He moved back to Indiany pretty

soonwent to Wellsville Wellsville was the place the Hogadorns was from. Mighty fine family. Old

Maryland stock. Old Squire Hogadorn could carry around more mixed licker, and cuss better than most any

man I ever see. His second wife was the widder Billingsshe that was Becky Martin; her dam was deacon

Dunlap's first wife. Her oldest child, Maria, married a missionary and died in graceet up by the savages.

They et him, too, poor feller biled him. It warn't the custom, so they say, but they explained to friends of

his'n that went down there to bring away his things, that they'd tried missionaries every other way and never

could get any good out of 'emand so it annoyed all his relations to find out that that man's life was fooled

away just out of a dern'd experiment, so to speak. But mind you, there ain't anything ever reely lost;

everything that people can't understand and don't see the reason of does good if you only hold on and give it a

fair shake; Prov'dence don't fire no blank ca'tridges, boys. That there missionary's substance, unbeknowns to

himself, actu'ly converted every last one of them heathens that took a chance at the barbacue. Nothing ever

fetched them but that. Don't tell me it was an accident that he was biled. There ain't no such a thing as an

When my uncle Lem was leaning up agin a scaffolding once, sick, or drunk, or suthin, an Irishman with a hod

full of bricks fell on him out of the third story and broke the old man's back in two places. People said it was

an accident. Much accident there was about that. He didn't know what he was there for, but he was there for a

good object. If he hadn't been there the Irishman would have been killed. Nobody can ever make me believe

anything different from that. Uncle Lem's dog was there. Why didn't the Irishman fall on the dog? Becuz the

dog would a seen him a coming and stood from under. That's the reason the dog warn't appinted. A dog can't

be depended on to carry out a special providence. Mark my words it was a putup thing. Accidents don't

happen, boys. Uncle Lem's dogI wish you could a seen that dog. He was a reglar shepherdor ruther he

was part bull and part shepherdsplendid animal; belonged to parson Hagar before Uncle Lem got him.

Parson Hagar belonged to the Western Reserve Hagars; prime family; his mother was a Watson; one of his

sisters married a Wheeler; they settled in Morgan county, and he got nipped by the machinery in a carpet

factory and went through in less than a quarter of a minute; his widder bought the piece of carpet that had his

remains wove in, and people come a hundred mile to 'tend the funeral. There was fourteen yards in the piece.

She wouldn't let them roll him up, but planted him just sofull length. The church was middling small

where they preached the funeral, and they had to let one end of the coffin stick out of the window. They

didn't bury himthey planted one end, and let him stand up, same as a monument. And they nailed a sign on

Jim Blaine had been growing gradually drowsy and drowsierhis head nodded, once, twice, three

timesdropped peacefully upon his breast, and he fell tranquilly asleep. The tears were running down the

boys' cheeks they were suffocating with suppressed laughterand had been from the start, though I had

never noticed it. I perceived that I was "sold." I learned then that Jim Blaine's peculiarity was that whenever

he reached a certain stage of intoxication, no human power could keep him from setting out, with impressive

unction, to tell about a wonderful adventure which he had once had with his grandfather's old ramand the

mention of the ram in the first sentence was as far as any man had ever heard him get, concerning it. He

always maundered off, interminably, from one thing to another, till his whisky got the best of him and he fell

asleep. What the thing was that happened to him and his grandfather's old ram is a dark mystery to this day,

Of course there was a large Chinese population in Virginiait is the case with every town and city on the

Pacific coast. They are a harmless race when white men either let them alone or treat them no worse than

dogs; in fact they are almost entirely harmless anyhow, for they seldom think of resenting the vilest insults or

the cruelest injuries. They are quiet, peaceable, tractable, free from drunkenness, and they are as industrious

as the day is long. A disorderly Chinaman is rare, and a lazy one does not exist. So long as a Chinaman has

strength to use his hands he needs no support from anybody; white men often complain of want of work, but

a Chinaman offers no such complaint; he always manages to find something to do. He is a great convenience

to everybodyeven to the worst class of white men, for he bears the most of their sins, suffering fines for

their petty thefts, imprisonment for their robberies, and death for their murders. Any white man can swear a

Chinaman's life away in the courts, but no Chinaman can testify against a white man. Ours is the "land of the

free"nobody denies thatnobody challenges it. [Maybe it is because we won't let other people testify.] As

I write, news comes that in broad daylight in San Francisco, some boys have stoned an inoffensive Chinaman

to death, and that although a large crowd witnessed the shameful deed, no one interfered.

There are seventy thousand (and possibly one hundred thousand) Chinamen on the Pacific coast. There were

about a thousand in Virginia. They were penned into a "Chinese quarter"a thing which they do not

particularly object to, as they are fond of herding together. Their buildings were of wood; usually only one

story high, and set thickly together along streets scarcely wide enough for a wagon to pass through. Their

quarter was a little removed from the rest of the town. The chief employment of Chinamen in towns is to

wash clothing. They always send a bill, like this below, pinned to the clothes. It is mere ceremony, for it does

not enlighten the customer much. Their price for washing was $2.50 per dozenrather cheaper than white

people could afford to wash for at that time. A very common sign on the Chinese houses was: "See Yup,

Washer and Ironer"; "Hong Wo, Washer"; "Sam Sing Ah Hop, Washing." The house servants, cooks, etc., in

California and Nevada, were chiefly Chinamen. There were few white servants and no Chinawomen so

employed. Chinamen make good house servants, being quick, obedient, patient, quick to learn and tirelessly

industrious. They do not need to be taught a thing twice, as a general thing. They are imitative. If a Chinaman

were to see his master break up a centre table, in a passion, and kindle a fire with it, that Chinaman would be

All Chinamen can read, write and cipher with easy facilitypity but all our petted voters could. In California

they rent little patches of ground and do a deal of gardening. They will raise surprising crops of vegetables on

a sand pile. They waste nothing. What is rubbish to a Christian, a Chinaman carefully preserves and makes

useful in one way or another. He gathers up all the old oyster and sardine cans that white people throw away,

and procures marketable tin and solder from them by melting. He gathers up old bones and turns them into

manure. In California he gets a living out of old mining claims that white men have abandoned as exhausted

and worthlessand then the officers come down on him once a month with an exorbitant swindle to which

the legislature has given the broad, general name of "foreign" mining tax, but it is usually inflicted on no

foreigners but Chinamen. This swindle has in some cases been repeated once or twice on the same victim in

the course of the same monthbut the public treasury was no additionally enriched by it, probably.

Chinamen hold their dead in great reverencethey worship their departed ancestors, in fact. Hence, in

China, a man's front yard, back yard, or any other part of his premises, is made his family burying ground, in

order that he may visit the graves at any and all times. Therefore that huge empire is one mighty cemetery; it

is ridged and wringled from its centre to its circumference with gravesand inasmuch as every foot of

ground must be made to do its utmost, in China, lest the swarming population suffer for food, the very graves

are cultivated and yield a harvest, custom holding this to be no dishonor to the dead. Since the departed are

held in such worshipful reverence, a Chinaman cannot bear that any indignity be offered the places where

they sleep. Mr. Burlingame said that herein lay China's bitter opposition to railroads; a road could not be built

anywhere in the empire without disturbing the graves of their ancestors or friends.

A Chinaman hardly believes he could enjoy the hereafter except his body lay in his beloved China; also, he

desires to receive, himself, after death, that worship with which he has honored his dead that preceded him.

Therefore, if he visits a foreign country, he makes arrangements to have his bones returned to China in case

he dies; if he hires to go to a foreign country on a labor contract, there is always a stipulation that his body

shall be taken back to China if he dies; if the government sells a gang of Coolies to a foreigner for the usual

fiveyear term, it is specified in the contract that their bodies shall be restored to China in case of death. On

the Pacific coast the Chinamen all belong to one or another of several great companies or organizations, and

these companies keep track of their members, register their names, and ship their bodies home when they die.

The See Yup Company is held to be the largest of these. The Ning Yeong Company is next, and numbers

eighteen thousand members on the coast. Its headquarters are at San Francisco, where it has a costly temple,

several great officers (one of whom keeps regal state in seclusion and cannot be approached by common

humanity), and a numerous priesthood. In it I was shown a register of its members, with the dead and the date

of their shipment to China duly marked. Every ship that sails from San Francisco carries away a heavy freight

of Chinese corpsesor did, at least, until the legislature, with an ingenious refinement of Christian cruelty,

forbade the shipments, as a neat underhanded way of deterring Chinese immigration. The bill was offered,

whether it passed or not. It is my impression that it passed. There was another billit became a

lawcompelling every incoming Chinaman to be vaccinated on the wharf and pay a duly appointed quack

(no decent doctor would defile himself with such legalized robbery) ten dollars for it. As few importers of

Chinese would want to go to an expense like that, the lawmakers thought this would be another heavy blow

What the Chinese quarter of Virginia was likeor, indeed, what the Chinese quarter of any Pacific coast

town was and is likemay be gathered from this item which I printed in the Enterprise while reporting for

Mr. Ah Sing keeps a general grocery and provision store at No. 13 Wang street. He lavished his hospitality

upon our party in the friendliest way. He had various kinds of colored and colorless wines and brandies, with

unpronouncable names, imported from China in little crockery jugs, and which he offered to us in dainty little

miniature washbasins of porcelain. He offered us a mess of birds'nests; also, small, neat sausages, of which

we could have swallowed several yards if we had chosen to try, but we suspected that each link contained the

corpse of a mouse, and therefore refrained. Mr. Sing had in his store a thousand articles of merchandise,

curious to behold, impossible to imagine the uses of, and beyond our ability to describe.

His ducks, however, and his eggs, we could understand; the former were split open and flattened out like

codfish, and came from China in that shape, and the latter were plastered over with some kind of paste which

We found Mr. Hong Wo, No. 37 Chowchow street, making up a lottery schemein fact we found a dozen

others occupied in the same way in various parts of the quarter, for about every third Chinaman runs a lottery,

and the balance of the tribe "buck" at it. "Tom," who speaks faultless English, and used to be chief and only

cook to the Territorial Enterprise, when the establishment kept bachelor's hall two years ago, said that

"Sometime Chinaman buy ticket one dollar hap, ketch um two tree hundred, sometime no ketch um anything;

lottery like one man fight um seventymaybe he whip, maybe he get whip heself, welly good."

However, the percentage being sixtynine against him, the chances are, as a general thing, that "he get whip

heself." We could not see that these lotteries differed in any respect from our own, save that the figures being

Chinese, no ignorant white man might ever hope to succeed in telling "t'other from which;" the manner of

Mr. See Yup keeps a fancy store on Live Fox street. He sold us fans of white feathers, gorgeously

ornamented; perfumery that smelled like Limburger cheese, Chinese pens, and watchcharms made of a

stone unscratchable with steel instruments, yet polished and tinted like the inner coat of a seashell. As

tokens of his esteem, See Yup presented the party with gaudy plumes made of gold tinsel and trimmed with

We ate chowchow with chopsticks in the celestial restaurants; our comrade chided the mooneyed damsels

in front of the houses for their want of feminine reserve; we received protecting Joshlights from our hosts

and "dickered" for a pagan God or two. Finally, we were impressed with the genius of a Chinese

bookkeeper; he figured up his accounts on a machine like a gridiron with buttons strung on its bars; the

different rows represented units, tens, hundreds and thousands. He fingered them with incredible rapidityin

fact, he pushed them from place to place as fast as a musical professor's fingers travel over the keys of a

They are a kindly disposed, wellmeaning race, and are respected and well treated by the upper classes, all

over the Pacific coast. No Californian gentleman or lady ever abuses or oppresses a Chinaman, under any

circumstances, an explanation that seems to be much needed in the East. Only the scum of the population do

itthey and their children; they, and, naturally and consistently, the policemen and politicians, likewise, for

these are the dustlicking pimps and slaves of the scum, there as well as elsewhere in America.

There was no longer satisfying variety in going down to Carson to report the proceedings of the legislature

once a year, and horseraces and pumpkinshows once in three months; (they had got to raising pumpkins

and potatoes in Washoe Valley, and of course one of the first achievements of the legislature was to institute

a tenthousanddollar Agricultural Fair to show off forty dollars' worth of those pumpkins inhowever, the

territorial legislature was usually spoken of as the "asylum"). I wanted to see San Francisco. I wanted to go

somewhere. I wantedI did not know what I wanted. I had the "spring fever" and wanted a change,

principally, no doubt. Besides, a convention had framed a State Constitution; nine men out of every ten

wanted an office; I believed that these gentlemen would "treat" the moneyless and the irresponsible among

the population into adopting the constitution and thus wellnigh killing the country (it could not well carry

such a load as a State government, since it had nothing to tax that could stand a tax, for undeveloped mines

could not, and there were not fifty developed ones in the land, there was but little realty to tax, and it did

seem as if nobody was ever going to think of the simple salvation of inflicting a money penalty on murder). I

believed that a State government would destroy the "flush times," and I wanted to get away. I believed that

the mining stocks I had on hand would soon be worth $100,000, and thought if they reached that before the

Constitution was adopted, I would sell out and make myself secure from the crash the change of government

was going to bring. I considered $100,000 sufficient to go home with decently, though it was but a small

amount compared to what I had been expecting to return with. I felt rather downhearted about it, but I tried

to comfort myself with the reflection that with such a sum I could not fall into want. About this time a

schoolmate of mine whom I had not seen since boyhood, came tramping in on foot from Reese River, a very

allegory of Poverty. The son of wealthy parents, here he was, in a strange land, hungry, bootless, mantled in

an ancient horseblanket, roofed with a brimless hat, and so generally and so extravagantly dilapidated that

he could have "taken the shine out of the Prodigal Son himself," as he pleasantly remarked.

He wanted to borrow fortysix dollarstwentysix to take him to San Francisco, and twenty for something

else; to buy some soap with, maybe, for he needed it. I found I had but little more than the amount wanted, in

my pocket; so I stepped in and borrowed fortysix dollars of a banker (on twenty days' time, without the

formality of a note), and gave it him, rather than walk half a block to the office, where I had some specie laid

up. If anybody had told me that it would take me two years to pay back that fortysix dollars to the banker

(for I did not expect it of the Prodigal, and was not disappointed), I would have felt injured. And so would the

I wanted a change. I wanted variety of some kind. It came. Mr. Goodman went away for a week and left me

the post of chief editor. It destroyed me. The first day, I wrote my "leader" in the forenoon. The second day, I

had no subject and put it off till the afternoon. The third day I put it off till evening, and then copied an

elaborate editorial out of the "American Cyclopedia," that steadfast friend of the editor, all over this land. The

fourth day I "fooled around" till midnight, and then fell back on the Cyclopedia again. The fifth day I

cudgeled my brain till midnight, and then kept the press waiting while I penned some bitter personalities on

six different people. The sixth day I labored in anguish till far into the night and brought forthnothing. The

paper went to press without an editorial. The seventh day I resigned. On the eighth, Mr. Goodman returned

Nobody, except he has tried it, knows what it is to be an editor. It is easy to scribble local rubbish, with the

facts all before you; it is easy to clip selections from other papers; it is easy to string out a correspondence

from any locality; but it is unspeakable hardship to write editorials. Subjects are the troublethe dreary lack

of them, I mean. Every day, it is drag, drag, dragthink, and worry and sufferall the world is a dull blank,

and yet the editorial columns must be filled. Only give the editor a subject, and his work is doneit is no

trouble to write it up; but fancy how you would feel if you had to pump your brains dry every day in the

week, fiftytwo weeks in the year. It makes one low spirited simply to think of it. The matter that each editor

of a daily paper in America writes in the course of a year would fill from four to eight bulky volumes like this

book! Fancy what a library an editor's work would make, after twenty or thirty years' service. Yet people

often marvel that Dickens, Scott, Bulwer, Dumas, etc., have been able to produce so many books. If these

authors had wrought as voluminously as newspaper editors do, the result would be something to marvel at,

indeed. How editors can continue this tremendous labor, this exhausting consumption of brain fibre (for their

work is creative, and not a mere mechanical layingup of facts, like reporting), day after day and year after

year, is incomprehensible. Preachers take two months' holiday in midsummer, for they find that to produce

two sermons a week is wearing, in the long run. In truth it must be so, and is so; and therefore, how an editor

can take from ten to twenty texts and build upon them from ten to twenty painstaking editorials a week and

keep it up all the year round, is farther beyond comprehension than ever. Ever since I survived my week as

editor, I have found at least one pleasure in any newspaper that comes to my hand; it is in admiring the long

Mr. Goodman's return relieved me of employment, unless I chose to become a reporter again. I could not do

that; I could not serve in the ranks after being General of the army. So I thought I would depart and go abroad

into the world somewhere. Just at this juncture, Dan, my associate in the reportorial department, told me,

casually, that two citizens had been trying to persuade him to go with them to New York and aid in selling a

rich silver mine which they had discovered and secured in a new mining district in our neighborhood. He said

they offered to pay his expenses and give him one third of the proceeds of the sale. He had refused to go. It

was the very opportunity I wanted. I abused him for keeping so quiet about it, and not mentioning it sooner.

He said it had not occurred to him that I would like to go, and so he had recommended them to apply to

Marshall, the reporter of the other paper. I asked Dan if it was a good, honest mine, and no swindle. He said

the men had shown him nine tons of the rock, which they had got out to take to New York, and he could

cheerfully say that he had seen but little rock in Nevada that was richer; and moreover, he said that they had

secured a tract of valuable timber and a millsite, near the mine. My first idea was to kill Dan. But I changed

my mind, notwithstanding I was so angry, for I thought maybe the chance was not yet lost. Dan said it was by

no means lost; that the men were absent at the mine again, and would not be in Virginia to leave for the East

for some ten days; that they had requested him to do the talking to Marshall, and he had promised that he

would either secure Marshall or somebody else for them by the time they got back; he would now say nothing

to anybody till they returned, and then fulfil his promise by furnishing me to them.

It was splendid. I went to bed all on fire with excitement; for nobody had yet gone East to sell a Nevada silver

mine, and the field was white for the sickle. I felt that such a mine as the one described by Dan would bring a

princely sum in New York, and sell without delay or difficulty. I could not sleep, my fancy so rioted through

Next day I got away, on the coach, with the usual eclat attending departures of old citizens,for if you have

only half a dozen friends out there they will make noise for a hundred rather than let you seem to go away

neglected and unregrettedand Dan promised to keep strict watch for the men that had the mine to sell.

The trip was signalized but by one little incident, and that occurred just as we were about to start. A very

seedy looking vagabond passenger got out of the stage a moment to wait till the usual ballast of silver bricks

was thrown in. He was standing on the pavement, when an awkward express employee, carrying a brick

weighing a hundred pounds, stumbled and let it fall on the bummer's foot. He instantly dropped on the ground

and began to howl in the most heartbreaking way. A sympathizing crowd gathered around and were going

to pull his boot off; but he screamed louder than ever and they desisted; then he fell to gasping, and between

the gasps ejaculated "Brandy! for Heaven's sake, brandy!" They poured half a pint down him, and it

wonderfully restored and comforted him. Then he begged the people to assist him to the stage, which was

done. The express people urged him to have a doctor at their expense, but he declined, and said that if he only

had a little brandy to take along with him, to soothe his paroxyms of pain when they came on, he would be

grateful and content. He was quickly supplied with two bottles, and we drove off. He was so smiling and

happy after that, that I could not refrain from asking him how he could possibly be so comfortable with a

"Well," said he, "I hadn't had a drink for twelve hours, and hadn't a cent to my name. I was most

perishingand so, when that duffer dropped that hundredpounder on my foot, I see my chance. Got a cork

He was as drunk as a lord all day long, and full of chucklings over his timely ingenuity.

One drunken man necessarily reminds one of another. I once heard a gentleman tell about an incident which

he witnessed in a Californian bar room. He entitled it "Ye Modest Man Taketh a Drink." It was nothing but

a bit of acting, but it seemed to me a perfect rendering, and worthy of Toodles himself. The modest man,

tolerably far gone with beer and other matters, enters a saloon (twentyfive cents is the price for anything and

everything, and specie the only money used) and lays down a half dollar; calls for whiskey and drinks it; the

barkeeper makes change and lays the quarter in a wet place on the counter; the modest man fumbles at it

with nerveless fingers, but it slips and the water holds it; he contemplates it, and tries again; same result;

observes that people are interested in what he is at, blushes; fumbles at the quarter againblushesputs his

forefinger carefully, slowly down, to make sure of his aimpushes the coin toward the barkeeper, and says

Naturally, another gentleman present told about another drunken man. He said he reeled toward home late at

night; made a mistake and entered the wrong gate; thought he saw a dog on the stoop; and it wasan iron

He stopped and considered; wondered if it was a dangerous dog; ventured to say "Be (hic) begone!" No

effect. Then he approached warily, and adopted conciliation; pursed up his lips and tried to whistle, but

failed; still approached, saying, "Poor dog!doggy, doggy, doggy!poor doggydog!" Got up on the stoop,

still petting with fond names; till master of the advantages; then exclaimed, "Leave, you thief!"planted a

vindictive kick in his ribs, and went headoverheels overboard, of course. A pause; a sigh or two of pain,

"Awful solid dog. What could he ben eating? ('ic!) Rocks, p'raps. Such animals is dangerous.' At's what I

saythey're dangerous. If a man('ic!)if a man wants to feed a dog on rocks, let him feed him on rocks;

'at's all right; but let him keep him at homenot have him layin' round promiscuous, where ('ic!) where

It was not without regret that I took a last look at the tiny flag (it was thirtyfive feet long and ten feet wide)

fluttering like a lady's handkerchief from the topmost peak of Mount Davidson, two thousand feet above

Virginia's roofs, and felt that doubtless I was bidding a permanent farewell to a city which had afforded me

the most vigorous enjoyment of life I had ever experienced. And this reminds me of an incident which the

dullest memory Virginia could boast at the time it happened must vividly recall, at times, till its possessor

That was astonishing enough, in itself, to set the whole town buzzing, for it only rains (during a week or two

weeks) in the winter in Nevada, and even then not enough at a time to make it worth while for any merchant

to keep umbrellas for sale. But the rain was not the chief wonder. It only lasted five or ten minutes; while the

people were still talking about it all the heavens gathered to themselves a dense blackness as of midnight. All

the vast eastern front of Mount Davidson, over looking the city, put on such a funereal gloom that only the

nearness and solidity of the mountain made its outlines even faintly distinguishable from the dead blackness

of the heavens they rested against. This unaccustomed sight turned all eyes toward the mountain; and as they

looked, a little tongue of rich golden flame was seen waving and quivering in the heart of the midnight, away

up on the extreme summit! In a few minutes the streets were packed with people, gazing with hardly an

uttered word, at the one brilliant mote in the brooding world of darkness. It flicked like a candleflame, and

looked no larger; but with such a background it was wonderfully bright, small as it was. It was the

flag!though no one suspected it at first, it seemed so like a supernatural visitor of some kinda

mysterious messenger of good tidings, some were fain to believe. It was the nation's emblem transfigured by

the departing rays of a sun that was entirely palled from view; and on no other object did the glory fall, in all

the broad panorama of mountain ranges and deserts. Not even upon the staff of the flagfor that, a needle in

the distance at any time, was now untouched by the light and undistinguishable in the gloom. For a whole

hour the weird visitor winked and burned in its lofty solitude, and still the thousands of uplifted eyes watched

it with fascinated interest. How the people were wrought up! The superstition grew apace that this was a

mystic courier come with great news from the warthe poetry of the idea excusing and commending

itand on it spread, from heart to heart, from lip to lip and from street to street, till there was a general

impulse to have out the military and welcome the bright waif with a salvo of artillery!

And all that time one sorely tried man, the telegraph operator sworn to official secrecy, had to lock his lips

and chain his tongue with a silence that was like to rend them; for he, and he only, of all the speculating

multitude, knew the great things this sinking sun had seen that day in the eastVicksburg fallen, and the

But for the journalistic monopoly that forbade the slightest revealment of eastern news till a day after its

publication in the California papers, the glorified flag on Mount Davidson would have been saluted and

resaluted, that memorable evening, as long as there was a charge of powder to thunder with; the city would

have been illuminated, and every man that had any respect for himself would have got drunk,as was the

custom of the country on all occasions of public moment. Even at this distant day I cannot think of this

needlessly marred supreme opportunity without regret. What a time we might have had!

We rumbled over the plains and valleys, climbed the Sierras to the clouds, and looked down upon

summerclad California. And I will remark here, in passing, that all scenery in California requires distance to

give it its highest charm. The mountains are imposing in their sublimity and their majesty of form and

altitude, from any point of viewbut one must have distance to soften their ruggedness and enrich their

tintings; a Californian forest is best at a little distance, for there is a sad poverty of variety in species, the trees

being chiefly of one monotonous familyredwood, pine, spruce, firand so, at a near view there is a

wearisome sameness of attitude in their rigid arms, stretched down ward and outward in one continued and

reiterated appeal to all men to "Sh! don't say a word!you might disturb somebody!" Close at hand, too,

there is a reliefless and relentless smell of pitch and turpentine; there is a ceaseless melancholy in their

sighing and complaining foliage; one walks over a soundless carpet of beaten yellow bark and dead spines of

the foliage till he feels like a wandering spirit bereft of a footfall; he tires of the endless tufts of needles and

yearns for substantial, shapely leaves; he looks for moss and grass to loll upon, and finds none, for where

there is no bark there is naked clay and dirt, enemies to pensive musing and clean apparel. Often a grassy

plain in California, is what it should be, but often, too, it is best contemplated at a distance, because although

its grass blades are tall, they stand up vindictively straight and selfsufficient, and are unsociably wide apart,

One of the queerest things I know of, is to hear tourists from "the States" go into ecstasies over the loveliness

of "everblooming California." And they always do go into that sort of ecstasies. But perhaps they would

modify them if they knew how old Californians, with the memory full upon them of the dustcovered and

questionable summer greens of Californian "verdure," stand astonished, and filled with worshipping

admiration, in the presence of the lavish richness, the brilliant green, the infinite freshness, the spendthrift

variety of form and species and foliage that make an Eastern landscape a vision of Paradise itself. The idea of

a man falling into raptures over grave and sombre California, when that man has seen New England's

meadowexpanses and her maples, oaks and cathedralwindowed elms decked in summer attire, or the

opaline splendors of autumn descending upon her forests, comes very near being funnywould be, in fact,

but that it is so pathetic. No land with an unvarying climate can be very beautiful. The tropics are not, for all

the sentiment that is wasted on them. They seem beautiful at first, but sameness impairs the charm by and by.

Change is the handmaiden Nature requires to do her miracles with. The land that has four welldefined

seasons, cannot lack beauty, or pall with monotony. Each season brings a world of enjoyment and interest in

the watching of its unfolding, its gradual, harmonious development, its culminating gracesand just as one

begins to tire of it, it passes away and a radical change comes, with new witcheries and new glories in its

train. And I think that to one in sympathy with nature, each season, in its turn, seems the loveliest.

San Francisco, a truly fascinating city to live in, is stately and handsome at a fair distance, but close at hand

one notes that the architecture is mostly oldfashioned, many streets are made up of decaying,

smokegrimed, wooden houses, and the barren sandhills toward the outskirts obtrude themselves too

prominently. Even the kindly climate is sometimes pleasanter when read about than personally experienced,

for a lovely, cloudless sky wears out its welcome by and by, and then when the longed for rain does come it

The climate of San Francisco is mild and singularly equable. The thermometer stands at about seventy

degrees the year round. It hardly changes at all. You sleep under one or two light blankets Summer and

Winter, and never use a mosquito bar. Nobody ever wears Summer clothing. You wear black broadclothif

you have itin August and January, just the same. It is no colder, and no warmer, in the one month than the

other. You do not use overcoats and you do not use fans. It is as pleasant a climate as could well be contrived,

take it all around, and is doubtless the most unvarying in the whole world. The wind blows there a good deal

in the summer months, but then you can go over to Oakland, if you choosethree or four miles awayit

does not blow there. It has only snowed twice in San Francisco in nineteen years, and then it only remained

on the ground long enough to astonish the children, and set them to wondering what the feathery stuff was.

During eight months of the year, straight along, the skies are bright and cloudless, and never a drop of rain

falls. But when the other four months come along, you will need to go and steal an umbrella. Because you

will require it. Not just one day, but one hundred and twenty days in hardly varying succession. When you

want to go visiting, or attend church, or the theatre, you never look up at the clouds to see whether it is likely

to rain or notyou look at the almanac. If it is Winter, it will rainand if it is Summer, it won't rain, and

you cannot help it. You never need a lightningrod, because it never thunders and it never lightens. And after

you have listened for six or eight weeks, every night, to the dismal monotony of those quiet rains, you will

wish in your heart the thunder would leap and crash and roar along those drowsy skies once, and make

everything aliveyou will wish the prisoned lightnings would cleave the dull firmament asunder and light it

with a blinding glare for one little instant. You would give anything to hear the old familiar thunder again and

see the lightning strike somebody. And along in the Summer, when you have suffered about four months of

lustrous, pitiless sunshine, you are ready to go down on your knees and plead for

rainhailsnowthunder and lightninganything to break the monotony you will take an earthquake,

San Francisco is built on sand hills, but they are prolific sand hills. They yield a generous vegetation. All the

rare flowers which people in "the States" rear with such patient care in parlor flowerpots and green houses,

flourish luxuriantly in the open air there all the year round. Calla lilies, all sorts of geraniums, passion

flowers, moss rosesI do not know the names of a tenth part of them. I only know that while New Yorkers

are burdened with banks and drifts of snow, Californians are burdened with banks and drifts of flowers, if

they only keep their hands off and let them grow. And I have heard that they have also that rarest and most

curious of all the flowers, the beautiful Espiritu Santo, as the Spaniards call itor flower of the Holy

Spiritthough I thought it grew only in Central Americadown on the Isthmus. In its cup is the daintiest

little facsimile of a dove, as pure as snow. The Spaniards have a superstitious reverence for it. The blossom

has been conveyed to the States, submerged in ether; and the bulb has been taken thither also, but every

I have elsewhere spoken of the endless Winter of Mono, California, and but this moment of the eternal Spring

of San Francisco. Now if we travel a hundred miles in a straight line, we come to the eternal Summer of

Sacramento. One never sees Summerclothing or mosquitoes in San Franciscobut they can be found in

Sacramento. Not always and unvaryingly, but about one hundred and fortythree months out of twelve years,

perhaps. Flowers bloom there, always, the reader can easily believepeople suffer and sweat, and swear,

morning, noon and night, and wear out their stanchest energies fanning themselves. It gets hot there, but if

you go down to Fort Yuma you will find it hotter. Fort Yuma is probably the hottest place on earth. The

thermometer stays at one hundred and twenty in the shade there all the timeexcept when it varies and goes

higher. It is a U.S. military post, and its occupants get so used to the terrific heat that they suffer without it.

There is a tradition (attributed to John Phenix [It has been purloined by fifty different scribblers who were too

poor to invent a fancy but not ashamed to steal one.M. T.]) that a very, very wicked soldier died there,

once, and of course, went straight to the hottest corner of perdition, and the next day he telegraphed back

for his blankets. There is no doubt about the truth of this statementthere can be no doubt about it. I have

seen the place where that soldier used to board. In Sacramento it is fiery Summer always, and you can gather

roses, and eat strawberries and icecream, and wear white linen clothes, and pant and perspire, at eight or

nine o'clock in the morning, and then take the cars, and at noon put on your furs and your skates, and go

skimming over frozen Donner Lake, seven thousand feet above the valley, among snow banks fifteen feet

deep, and in the shadow of grand mountain peaks that lift their frosty crags ten thousand feet above the level

There is a transition for you! Where will you find another like it in the Western hemisphere? And some of us

have swept around snowwalled curves of the Pacific Railroad in that vicinity, six thousand feet above the

sea, and looked down as the birds do, upon the deathless Summer of the Sacramento Valley, with its fruitful

fields, its feathery foliage, its silver streams, all slumbering in the mellow haze of its enchanted atmosphere,

and all infinitely softened and spiritualized by distancea dreamy, exquisite glimpse of fairyland, made all

the more charming and striking that it was caught through a forbidden gateway of ice and snow, and savage

It was in this Sacramento Valley, just referred to, that a deal of the most lucrative of the early gold mining

was done, and you may still see, in places, its grassy slopes and levels torn and guttered and disfigured by the

avaricious spoilers of fifteen and twenty years ago. You may see such disfigurements far and wide over

Californiaand in some such places, where only meadows and forests are visiblenot a living creature, not

a house, no stick or stone or remnant of a ruin, and not a sound, not even a whisper to disturb the Sabbath

stillnessyou will find it hard to believe that there stood at one time a fiercelyflourishing little city, of two

thousand or three thousand souls, with its newspaper, fire company, brass band, volunteer militia, bank,

hotels, noisy Fourth of July processions and speeches, gambling hells crammed with tobacco smoke,

profanity, and roughbearded men of all nations and colors, with tables heaped with gold dust sufficient for

the revenues of a German principalitystreets crowded and rife with businesstown lots worth four

hundred dollars a front footlabor, laughter, music, dancing, swearing, fighting, shooting, stabbinga

bloody inquest and a man for breakfast every morningeverything that delights and adorns existence all

the appointments and appurtenances of a thriving and prosperous and promising young city,and now

nothing is left of it all but a lifeless, homeless solitude. The men are gone, the houses have vanished, even the

name of the place is forgotten. In no other land, in modern times, have towns so absolutely died and

It was a driving, vigorous, restless population in those days. It was a curious population. It was the only

population of the kind that the world has ever seen gathered together, and it is not likely that the world will

ever see its like again. For observe, it was an assemblage of two hundred thousand young mennot

simpering, dainty, kidgloved weaklings, but stalwart, muscular, dauntless young braves, brimful of push and

energy, and royally endowed with every attribute that goes to make up a peerless and magnificent

manhoodthe very pick and choice of the world's glorious ones. No women, no children, no gray and

stooping veterans,none but erect, brighteyed, quickmoving, stronghanded young giantsthe strangest

population, the finest population, the most gallant host that ever trooped down the startled solitudes of an

unpeopled land. And where are they now? Scattered to the ends of the earthor prematurely aged and

decrepitor shot or stabbed in street affraysor dead of disappointed hopes and broken heartsall gone,

or nearly all victims devoted upon the altar of the golden calfthe noblest holocaust that ever wafted its

It was a splendid populationfor all the slow, sleepy, sluggishbrained sloths staid at homeyou never find

that sort of people among pioneers you cannot build pioneers out of that sort of material. It was that

population that gave to California a name for getting up astounding enterprises and rushing them through

with a magnificent dash and daring and a recklessness of cost or consequences, which she bears unto this

dayand when she projects a new surprise, the grave world smiles as usual, and says "Well, that is

But they were rough in those times! They fairly reveled in gold, whisky, fights, and fandangoes, and were

unspeakably happy. The honest miner raked from a hundred to a thousand dollars out of his claim a day, and

what with the gambling dens and the other entertainments, he hadn't a cent the next morning, if he had any

sort of luck. They cooked their own bacon and beans, sewed on their own buttons, washed their own shirts

blue woollen ones; and if a man wanted a fight on his hands without any annoying delay, all he had to do was

to appear in public in a white shirt or a stovepipe hat, and he would be accommodated. For those people

hated aristocrats. They had a particular and malignant animosity toward what they called a "biled shirt."

It was a wild, free, disorderly, grotesque society! Menonly swarming hosts of stalwart mennothing

In those days miners would flock in crowds to catch a glimpse of that rare and blessed spectacle, a woman!

Old inhabitants tell how, in a certain camp, the news went abroad early in the morning that a woman was

come! They had seen a calico dress hanging out of a wagon down at the campinggroundsign of emigrants

from over the great plains. Everybody went down there, and a shout went up when an actual, bona fide dress

was discovered fluttering in the wind! The male emigrant was visible. The miners said:

He said: "It is my wife, gentlemenshe is sickwe have been robbed of money, provisions, everything, by

He "fetched her out," and they swung their hats and sent up three rousing cheers and a tiger; and they

crowded around and gazed at her, and touched her dress, and listened to her voice with the look of men who

listened to a memory rather than a present realityand then they collected twenty five hundred dollars in

gold and gave it to the man, and swung their hats again and gave three more cheers, and went home satisfied.

Once I dined in San Francisco with the family of a pioneer, and talked with his daughter, a young lady whose

first experience in San Francisco was an adventure, though she herself did not remember it, as she was only

two or three years old at the time. Her father said that, after landing from the ship, they were walking up the

street, a servant leading the party with the little girl in her arms. And presently a huge miner, bearded, belted,

spurred, and bristling with deadly weaponsjust down from a long campaign in the mountains,

evidentlybarred the way, stopped the servant, and stood gazing, with a face all alive with gratification and

"Well, if it ain't a child!" And then he snatched a little leather sack out of his pocket and said to the servant:

"There's a hundred and fifty dollars in dust, there, and I'll give it to you to let me kiss the child!"

But see how things change. Sitting at that dinnertable, listening to that anecdote, if I had offered double the

money for the privilege of kissing the same child, I would have been refused. Seventeen added years have far

And while upon this subject I will remark that once in Star City, in the Humboldt Mountains, I took my place

in a sort of long, postoffice single file of miners, to patiently await my chance to peep through a crack in the

cabin and get a sight of the splendid new sensationa genuine, live Woman! And at the end of half of an

hour my turn came, and I put my eye to the crack, and there she was, with one arm akimbo, and tossing flap

And she was one hundred and sixtyfive [Being in calmer mood, now, I voluntarily knock off a hundred

For a few months I enjoyed what to me was an entirely new phase of existencea butterfly idleness; nothing

to do, nobody to be responsible to, and untroubled with financial uneasiness. I fell in love with the most

cordial and sociable city in the Union. After the sagebrush and alkali deserts of Washoe, San Francisco was

Paradise to me. I lived at the best hotel, exhibited my clothes in the most conspicuous places, infested the

opera, and learned to seem enraptured with music which oftener afflicted my ignorant ear than enchanted it, if

I had had the vulgar honesty to confess it. However, I suppose I was not greatly worse than the most of my

countrymen in that. I had longed to be a butterfly, and I was one at last. I attended private parties in

sumptuous evening dress, simpered and aired my graces like a born beau, and polkad and schottisched with a

step peculiar to myselfand the kangaroo. In a word, I kept the due state of a man worth a hundred thousand

dollars (prospectively,) and likely to reach absolute affluence when that silver mine sale should be

ultimately achieved in the East. I spent money with a free hand, and meantime watched the stock sales with

Something very important happened. The property holders of Nevada voted against the State Constitution;

but the folks who had nothing to lose were in the majority, and carried the measure over their heads. But after

all it did not immediately look like a disaster, though unquestionably it was one I hesitated, calculated the

chances, and then concluded not to sell. Stocks went on rising; speculation went mad; bankers, merchants,

lawyers, doctors, mechanics, laborers, even the very washerwomen and servant girls, were putting up their

earnings on silver stocks, and every sun that rose in the morning went down on paupers enriched and rich

men beggared. What a gambling carnival it was! Gould and Curry soared to six thousand three hundred

dollars a foot! And then all of a sudden, out went the bottom and everything and everybody went to ruin

The bubble scarcely left a microscopic moisture behind it. I was an early beggar and a thorough one. My

hoarded stocks were not worth the paper they were printed on. I threw them all away. I, the cheerful idiot that

had been squandering money like water, and thought myself beyond the reach of misfortune, had not now as

much as fifty dollars when I gathered together my various debts and paid them. I removed from the hotel to a

very private boarding house. I took a reporter's berth and went to work. I was not entirely broken in spirit, for

I was building confidently on the sale of the silver mine in the east. But I could not hear from Dan. My letters

One day I did not feel vigorous and remained away from the office. The next day I went down toward noon

as usual, and found a note on my desk which had been there twentyfour hours. It was signed

"Marshall"the Virginia reporterand contained a request that I should call at the hotel and see him and a

friend or two that night, as they would sail for the east in the morning. A postscript added that their errand

was a big mining speculation! I was hardly ever so sick in my life. I abused myself for leaving Virginia and

entrusting to another man a matter I ought to have attended to myself; I abused myself for remaining away

from the office on the one day of all the year that I should have been there. And thus berating myself I trotted

a mile to the steamer wharf and arrived just in time to be too late. The ship was in the stream and under way.

I comforted myself with the thought that may be the speculation would amount to nothingpoor comfort at

bestand then went back to my slavery, resolved to put up with my thirtyfive dollars a week and forget all

A month afterward I enjoyed my first earthquake. It was one which was long called the "great" earthquake,

and is doubtless so distinguished till this day. It was just after noon, on a bright October day. I was coming

down Third street. The only objects in motion anywhere in sight in that thickly built and populous quarter,

were a man in a buggy behind me, and a street car wending slowly up the cross street. Otherwise, all was

solitude and a Sabbath stillness. As I turned the corner, around a frame house, there was a great rattle and jar,

and it occurred to me that here was an item!no doubt a fight in that house. Before I could turn and seek the

door, there came a really terrific shock; the ground seemed to roll under me in waves, interrupted by a violent

joggling up and down, and there was a heavy grinding noise as of brick houses rubbing together. I fell up

against the frame house and hurt my elbow. I knew what it was, now, and from mere reportorial instinct,

nothing else, took out my watch and noted the time of day; at that moment a third and still severer shock

came, and as I reeled about on the pavement trying to keep my footing, I saw a sight! The entire front of a tall

fourstory brick building in Third street sprung outward like a door and fell sprawling across the street,

raising a dust like a great volume of smoke! And here came the buggyoverboard went the man, and in less

time than I can tell it the vehicle was distributed in small fragments along three hundred yards of street.

One could have fancied that somebody had fired a charge of chairrounds and rags down the thoroughfare.

The street car had stopped, the horses were rearing and plunging, the passengers were pouring out at both

ends, and one fat man had crashed half way through a glass window on one side of the car, got wedged fast

and was squirming and screaming like an impaled madman. Every door, of every house, as far as the eye

could reach, was vomiting a stream of human beings; and almost before one could execute a wink and begin

another, there was a massed multitude of people stretching in endless procession down every street my

Of the wonders wrought by "the great earthquake," these were all that came under my eye; but the tricks it

did, elsewhere, and far and wide over the town, made toothsome gossip for nine days.

The destruction of property was triflingthe injury to it was wide spread and somewhat serious.

The "curiosities" of the earthquake were simply endless. Gentlemen and ladies who were sick, or were taking

a siesta, or had dissipated till a late hour and were making up lost sleep, thronged into the public streets in all

sorts of queer apparel, and some without any at all. One woman who had been washing a naked child, ran

down the street holding it by the ankles as if it were a dressed turkey. Prominent citizens who were supposed

to keep the Sabbath strictly, rushed out of saloons in their shirtsleeves, with billiard cues in their hands.

Dozens of men with necks swathed in napkins, rushed from barbershops, lathered to the eyes or with one

cheek clean shaved and the other still bearing a hairy stubble. Horses broke from stables, and a frightened

dog rushed up a short attic ladder and out on to a roof, and when his scare was over had not the nerve to go

A prominent editor flew down stairs, in the principal hotel, with nothing on but one brief undergarmentmet

A certain foreign consul's lady was the acknowledged leader of fashion, and every time she appeared in

anything new or extraordinary, the ladies in the vicinity made a raid on their husbands' purses and arrayed

themselves similarly. One man who had suffered considerably and growled accordingly, was standing at the

window when the shocks came, and the next instant the consul's wife, just out of the bath, fled by with no

other apology for clothing thana bathtowel! The sufferer rose superior to the terrors of the earthquake,

The plastering that fell from ceilings in San Francisco that day, would have covered several acres of ground.

For some days afterward, groups of eyeing and pointing men stood about many a building, looking at long

zig zag cracks that extended from the eaves to the ground. Four feet of the tops of three chimneys on one

house were broken square off and turned around in such a way as to completely stop the draft.

A crack a hundred feet long gaped open six inches wide in the middle of one street and then shut together

again with such force, as to ridge up the meeting earth like a slender grave. A lady sitting in her rocking and

quaking parlor, saw the wall part at the ceiling, open and shut twice, like a mouth, and thendrop the end of a

brick on the floor like a tooth. She was a woman easily disgusted with foolishness, and she arose and went

out of there. One lady who was coming down stairs was astonished to see a bronze Hercules lean forward on

its pedestal as if to strike her with its club. They both reached the bottom of the flight at the same time,the

woman insensible from the fright. Her child, born some little time afterward, was clubfooted. Howeveron

second thought,if the reader sees any coincidence in this, he must do it at his own risk.

The first shock brought down two or three huge organpipes in one of the churches. The minister, with

uplifted hands, was just closing the services. He glanced up, hesitated, and said:

"However, we will omit the benediction!"and the next instant there was a vacancy in the atmosphere where

Such another destruction of mantel ornaments and toilet bottles as the earthquake created, San Francisco

never saw before. There was hardly a girl or a matron in the city but suffered losses of this kind. Suspended

pictures were thrown down, but oftener still, by a curious freak of the earthquake's humor, they were whirled

completely around with their faces to the wall! There was great difference of opinion, at first, as to the course

or direction the earthquake traveled, but water that splashed out of various tanks and buckets settled that.

Thousands of people were made so seasick by the rolling and pitching of floors and streets that they were

weak and bedridden for hours, and some few for even days afterward.Hardly an individual escaped

The queer earthquakeepisodes that formed the staple of San Francisco gossip for the next week would fill

By and by, in the due course of things, I picked up a copy of the Enterprise one day, and fell under this cruel

Once more native imbecility had carried the day, and I had lost a million! It was the "blind lead" over again.

Let us not dwell on this miserable matter. If I were inventing these things, I could be wonderfully humorous

over them; but they are too true to be talked of with hearty levity, even at this distant day. [True, and yet not

exactly as given in the above figures, possibly. I saw Marshall, months afterward, and although he had plenty

of money he did not claim to have captured an entire million. In fact I gathered that he had not then received

$50,000. Beyond that figure his fortune appeared to consist of uncertain vast expectations rather than

prodigious certainties. However, when the above item appeared in print I put full faith in it, and incontinently

wilted and went to seed under it.] Suffice it that I so lost heart, and so yielded myself up to repinings and

sighings and foolish regrets, that I neglected my duties and became about worthless, as a reporter for a brisk

newspaper. And at last one of the proprietors took me aside, with a charity I still remember with considerable

respect, and gave me an opportunity to resign my berth and so save myself the disgrace of a dismissal.

For a time I wrote literary screeds for the Golden Era. C. H. Webb had established a very excellent literary

weekly called the Californian, but high merit was no guaranty of success; it languished, and he sold out to

three printers, and Bret Harte became editor at $20 a week, and I was employed to contribute an article a

week at $12. But the journal still languished, and the printers sold out to Captain Ogden, a rich man and a

pleasant gentleman who chose to amuse himself with such an expensive luxury without much caring about

the cost of it. When he grew tired of the novelty, he resold to the printers, the paper presently died a

peaceful death, and I was out of work again. I would not mention these things but for the fact that they so

aptly illustrate the ups and downs that characterize life on the Pacific coast. A man could hardly stumble into

For two months my sole occupation was avoiding acquaintances; for during that time I did not earn a penny,

or buy an article of any kind, or pay my board. I became a very adept at "slinking." I slunk from back street to

back street, I slunk away from approaching faces that looked familiar, I slunk to my meals, ate them humbly

and with a mute apology for every mouthful I robbed my generous landlady of, and at midnight, after

wanderings that were but slinkings away from cheerfulness and light, I slunk to my bed. I felt meaner, and

lowlier and more despicable than the worms. During all this time I had but one piece of moneya silver ten

cent pieceand I held to it and would not spend it on any account, lest the consciousness coming strong

upon me that I was entirely penniless, might suggest suicide. I had pawned every thing but the clothes I had

However, I am forgetting. I did have one other occupation beside that of "slinking." It was the entertaining of

a collector (and being entertained by him,) who had in his hands the Virginia banker's bill for fortysix

dollars which I had loaned my schoolmate, the "Prodigal." This man used to call regularly once a week and

dun me, and sometimes oftener. He did it from sheer force of habit, for he knew he could get nothing. He

would get out his bill, calculate the interest for me, at five per cent a month, and show me clearly that there

was no attempt at fraud in it and no mistakes; and then plead, and argue and dun with all his might for any

sumany little trifleeven a dollareven half a dollar, on account. Then his duty was accomplished and

his conscience free. He immediately dropped the subject there always; got out a couple of cigars and divided,

put his feet in the window, and then we would have a long, luxurious talk about everything and everybody,

and he would furnish me a world of curious dunning adventures out of the ample store in his memory. By and

The idea of pining for a dun! And yet I used to long for him to come, and would get as uneasy as any mother

if the day went by without his visit, when I was expecting him. But he never collected that bill, at last nor any

Misery loves company. Now and then at night, in outofthe way, dimly lighted places, I found myself

happening on another child of misfortune. He looked so seedy and forlorn, so homeless and friendless and

forsaken, that I yearned toward him as a brother. I wanted to claim kinship with him and go about and enjoy

our wretchedness together. The drawing toward each other must have been mutual; at any rate we got to

falling together oftener, though still seemingly by accident; and although we did not speak or evince any

recognition, I think the dull anxiety passed out of both of us when we saw each other, and then for several

hours we would idle along contentedly, wide apart, and glancing furtively in at home lights and fireside

gatherings, out of the night shadows, and very much enjoying our dumb companionship.

Finally we spoke, and were inseparable after that. For our woes were identical, almost. He had been a

reporter too, and lost his berth, and this was his experience, as nearly as I can recollect it. After losing his

berth he had gone down, down, down, with never a halt: from a boarding house on Russian Hill to a boarding

house in Kearney street; from thence to Dupont; from thence to a low sailor den; and from thence to lodgings

in goods boxes and empty hogsheads near the wharves. Then; for a while, he had gained a meagre living by

sewing up bursted sacks of grain on the piers; when that failed he had found food here and there as chance

threw it in his way. He had ceased to show his face in daylight, now, for a reporter knows everybody, rich

and poor, high and low, and cannot well avoid familiar faces in the broad light of day.

This mendicant BlucherI call him that for conveniencewas a splendid creature. He was full of hope,

pluck and philosophy; he was well read and a man of cultivated taste; he had a bright wit and was a master of

satire; his kindliness and his generous spirit made him royal in my eyes and changed his curbstone seat to a

He had an adventure, once, which sticks fast in my memory as the most pleasantly grotesque that ever

touched my sympathies. He had been without a penny for two months. He had shirked about obscure streets,

among friendly dim lights, till the thing had become second nature to him. But at last he was driven abroad in

daylight. The cause was sufficient; he had not tasted food for fortyeight hours, and he could not endure the

misery of his hunger in idle hiding. He came along a back street, glowering at the loaves in bakeshop

windows, and feeling that he could trade his life away for a morsel to eat. The sight of the bread doubled his

hunger; but it was good to look at it, any how, and imagine what one might do if one only had it.

Presently, in the middle of the street he saw a shining spotlooked againdid not, and could not, believe

his eyesturned away, to try them, then looked again. It was a verityno vain, hungerinspired

He snatched itgloated over it; doubted itbit itfound it genuine choked his heart down, and

smothered a halleluiah. Then he looked aroundsaw that nobody was looking at himthrew the dime down

where it was beforewalked away a few steps, and approached again, pretending he did not know it was

there, so that he could reenjoy the luxury of finding it. He walked around it, viewing it from different points;

then sauntered about with his hands in his pockets, looking up at the signs and now and then glancing at it

and feeling the old thrill again. Finally he took it up, and went away, fondling it in his pocket. He idled

through unfrequented streets, stopping in doorways and corners to take it out and look at it. By and by he

went home to his lodgingsan empty queensware hogshead,and employed himself till night trying to

make up his mind what to buy with it. But it was hard to do. To get the most for it was the idea. He knew that

at the Miner's Restaurant he could get a plate of beans and a piece of bread for ten cents; or a fish ball and

some few trifles, but they gave "no bread with one fishball" there. At French Pete's he could get a veal

cutlet, plain, and some radishes and bread, for ten cents; or a cup of coffeea pint at least and a slice of

bread; but the slice was not thick enough by the eighth of an inch, and sometimes they were still more

criminal than that in the cutting of it. At seven o'clock his hunger was wolfish; and still his mind was not

made up. He turned out and went up Merchant street, still ciphering; and chewing a bit of stick, as is the way

He passed before the lights of Martin's restaurant, the most aristocratic in the city, and stopped. It was a place

where he had often dined, in better days, and Martin knew him well. Standing aside, just out of the range of

the light, he worshiped the quails and steaks in the show window, and imagined that may be the fairy times

were not gone yet and some prince in disguise would come along presently and tell him to go in there and

take whatever he wanted. He chewed his stick with a hungry interest as he warmed to his subject. Just at this

juncture he was conscious of some one at his side, sure enough; and then a finger touched his arm. He looked

up, over his shoulder, and saw an apparitiona very allegory of Hunger! It was a man six feet high, gaunt,

unshaven, hung with rags; with a haggard face and sunken cheeks, and eyes that pleaded piteously. This

He locked his arm in Blucher's and walked up the street to where the passengers were few and the light not

"Friendstrangerlook at me! Life is easy to youyou go about, placid and content, as I did once, in my

dayyou have been in there, and eaten your sumptuous supper, and picked your teeth, and hummed your

tune, and thought your pleasant thoughts, and said to yourself it is a good world but you've never suffered!

You don't know what trouble isyou don't know what misery isnor hunger! Look at me! Stranger have

pity on a poor friendless, homeless dog! As God is my judge, I have not tasted food for eight and forty

hours!look in my eyes and see if I lie! Give me the least trifle in the world to keep me from

starvinganything twentyfive cents! Do it, strangerdo it, please. It will be nothing to you, but life to

me. Do it, and I will go down on my knees and lick the dust before you! I will kiss your footprintsI will

worship the very ground you walk on! Only twentyfive cents! I am famishing perishingstarving by

Blucher was bewilderedand touched, toostirred to the depths. He reflected. Thought again. Then an idea

He took the outcast's arm, walked him down to Martin's restaurant, seated him at a marble table, placed the

Then Blucher stepped back and leaned against the counter and watched the man stow away cargo after cargo

of buckwheat cakes at seventyfive cents a plate; cup after cup of coffee, and porter house steaks worth two

dollars apiece; and when six dollars and a half's worth of destruction had been accomplished, and the

stranger's hunger appeased, Blucher went down to French Pete's, bought a veal cutlet plain, a slice of bread,

Take the episode all around, it was as odd as any that can be culled from the myriad curiosities of Californian

By and by, an old friend of mine, a miner, came down from one of the decayed mining camps of Tuolumne,

California, and I went back with him. We lived in a small cabin on a verdant hillside, and there were not five

other cabins in view over the wide expanse of hill and forest. Yet a flourishing city of two or three thousand

population had occupied this grassy dead solitude during the flush times of twelve or fifteen years before, and

where our cabin stood had once been the heart of the teeming hive, the centre of the city. When the mines

gave out the town fell into decay, and in a few years wholly disappearedstreets, dwellings, shops,

everythingand left no sign. The grassy slopes were as green and smooth and desolate of life as if they had

never been disturbed. The mere handful of miners still remaining, had seen the town spring up spread, grow

and flourish in its pride; and they had seen it sicken and die, and pass away like a dream. With it their hopes

had died, and their zest of life. They had long ago resigned themselves to their exile, and ceased to

correspond with their distant friends or turn longing eyes toward their early homes. They had accepted

banishment, forgotten the world and been forgotten of the world. They were far from telegraphs and

railroads, and they stood, as it were, in a living grave, dead to the events that stirred the globe's great

populations, dead to the common interests of men, isolated and outcast from brotherhood with their kind. It

was the most singular, and almost the most touching and melancholy exile that fancy can imagine.One of

my associates in this locality, for two or three months, was a man who had had a university education; but

now for eighteen years he had decayed there by inches, a bearded, rough clad, claystained miner, and at

times, among his sighings and soliloquizings, he unconsciously interjected vaguely remembered Latin and

Greek sentencesdead and musty tongues, meet vehicles for the thoughts of one whose dreams were all of

the past, whose life was a failure; a tired man, burdened with the present, and indifferent to the future; a man

In that one little corner of California is found a species of mining which is seldom or never mentioned in

print. It is called "pocket mining" and I am not aware that any of it is done outside of that little corner. The

gold is not evenly distributed through the surface dirt, as in ordinary placer mines, but is collected in little

spots, and they are very wide apart and exceedingly hard to find, but when you do find one you reap a rich

and sudden harvest. There are not now more than twenty pocket miners in that entire little region. I think I

know every one of them personally. I have known one of them to hunt patiently about the hillsides every

day for eight months without finding gold enough to make a snuffboxhis grocery bill running up

relentlessly all the timeand then find a pocket and take out of it two thousand dollars in two dips of his

shovel. I have known him to take out three thousand dollars in two hours, and go and pay up every cent of his

indebtedness, then enter on a dazzling spree that finished the last of his treasure before the night was gone.

And the next day he bought his groceries on credit as usual, and shouldered his pan and shovel and went off

to the hills hunting pockets again happy and content. This is the most fascinating of all the different kinds of

mining, and furnishes a very handsome percentage of victims to the lunatic asylum.

Pocket hunting is an ingenious process. You take a spadeful of earth from the hillside and put it in a large

tin pan and dissolve and wash it gradually away till nothing is left but a teaspoonful of fine sediment.

Whatever gold was in that earth has remained, because, being the heaviest, it has sought the bottom. Among

the sediment you will find half a dozen yellow particles no larger than pinheads. You are delighted. You

move off to one side and wash another pan. If you find gold again, you move to one side further, and wash a

third pan. If you find no gold this time, you are delighted again, because you know you are on the right scent.

You lay an imaginary plan, shaped like a fan, with its handle up the hillfor just where the end of the handle

is, you argue that the rich deposit lies hidden, whose vagrant grains of gold have escaped and been washed

down the hill, spreading farther and farther apart as they wandered. And so you proceed up the hill, washing

the earth and narrowing your lines every time the absence of gold in the pan shows that you are outside the

spread of the fan; and at last, twenty yards up the hill your lines have converged to a pointa single foot

from that point you cannot find any gold. Your breath comes short and quick, you are feverish with

excitement; the dinnerbell may ring its clapper off, you pay no attention; friends may die, weddings

transpire, houses burn down, they are nothing to you; you sweat and dig and delve with a frantic

interestand all at once you strike it! Up comes a spadeful of earth and quartz that is all lovely with soiled

lumps and leaves and sprays of gold. Sometimes that one spadeful is all$500. Sometimes the nest contains

$10,000, and it takes you three or four days to get it all out. The pocketminers tell of one nest that yielded

$60,000 and two men exhausted it in two weeks, and then sold the ground for $10,000 to a party who never

The hogs are good pocket hunters. All the summer they root around the bushes, and turn up a thousand little

piles of dirt, and then the miners long for the rains; for the rains beat upon these little piles and wash them

down and expose the gold, possibly right over a pocket. Two pockets were found in this way by the same

man in one day. One had $5,000 in it and the other $8,000. That man could appreciate it, for he hadn't had a

In Tuolumne lived two miners who used to go to the neighboring village in the afternoon and return every

night with household supplies. Part of the distance they traversed a trail, and nearly always sat down to rest

on a great boulder that lay beside the path. In the course of thirteen years they had worn that boulder tolerably

smooth, sitting on it. By and by two vagrant Mexicans came along and occupied the seat. They began to

amuse themselves by chipping off flakes from the boulder with a sledge hammer. They examined one of

these flakes and found it rich with gold. That boulder paid them $800 afterward. But the aggravating

circumstance was that these "Greasers" knew that there must be more gold where that boulder came from,

and so they went panning up the hill and found what was probably the richest pocket that region has yet

produced. It took three months to exhaust it, and it yielded $120,000. The two American miners who used to

sit on the boulder are poor yet, and they take turn about in getting up early in the morning to curse those

Mexicansand when it comes down to pure ornamental cursing, the native American is gifted above the

I have dwelt at some length upon this matter of pocket mining because it is a subject that is seldom referred to

in print, and therefore I judged that it would have for the reader that interest which naturally attaches to

One of my comrades thereanother of those victims of eighteen years of unrequited toil and blighted

hopeswas one of the gentlest spirits that ever bore its patient cross in a weary exile: grave and simple Dick

Baker, pocketminer of DeadHouse Gulch.He was fortysix, gray as a rat, earnest, thoughtful, slenderly

educated, slouchily dressed and clay soiled, but his heart was finer metal than any gold his shovel ever

Whenever he was out of luck and a little downhearted, he would fall to mourning over the loss of a

wonderful cat he used to own (for where women and children are not, men of kindly impulses take up with

pets, for they must love something). And he always spoke of the strange sagacity of that cat with the air of a

man who believed in his secret heart that there was something human about itmay be even supernatural.

"Gentlemen, I used to have a cat here, by the name of Tom Quartz, which you'd a took an interest in I

reckonmost any body would. I had him here eight yearand he was the remarkablest cat I ever see. He

was a large gray one of the Tom specie, an' he had more hard, natchral sense than any man in this camp'n'

a power of dignityhe wouldn't let the Gov'ner of Californy be familiar with him. He never ketched a rat in

his life'peared to be above it. He never cared for nothing but mining. He knowed more about mining, that

cat did, than any man I ever, ever see. You couldn't tell him noth'n 'bout placer diggin's'n' as for pocket

He would dig out after me an' Jim when we went over the hills prospect'n', and he would trot along behind us

for as much as five mile, if we went so fur. An' he had the best judgment about mining groundwhy you

never see anything like it. When we went to work, he'd scatter a glance around, 'n' if he didn't think much of

the indications, he would give a look as much as to say, 'Well, I'll have to get you to excuse me,' 'n' without

another word he'd hyste his nose into the air 'n' shove for home. But if the ground suited him, he would lay

low 'n' keep dark till the first pan was washed, 'n' then he would sidle up 'n' take a look, an' if there was about

six or seven grains of gold he was satisfiedhe didn't want no better prospect 'n' that'n' then he would lay

down on our coats and snore like a steamboat till we'd struck the pocket, an' then get up 'n' superintend. He

"Well, bye an' bye, up comes this yer quartz excitement. Every body was into itevery body was pick'n' 'n'

blast'n' instead of shovelin' dirt on the hill sideevery body was put'n' down a shaft instead of scrapin' the

surface. Noth'n' would do Jim, but we must tackle the ledges, too, 'n' so we did. We commenced put'n' down a

shaft, 'n' Tom Quartz he begin to wonder what in the Dickens it was all about. He hadn't ever seen any mining

like that before, 'n' he was all upset, as you may sayhe couldn't come to a right understanding of it no

wayit was too many for him. He was down on it, too, you bet youhe was down on it powerful 'n'

always appeared to consider it the cussedest foolishness out. But that cat, you know, was always agin new

fangled arrangementssomehow he never could abide'em. You know how it is with old habits. But by an' by

Tom Quartz begin to git sort of reconciled a little, though he never could altogether understand that eternal

sinkin' of a shaft an' never pannin' out any thing. At last he got to comin' down in the shaft, hisself, to try to

cipher it out. An' when he'd git the blues, 'n' feel kind o'scruffy, 'n' aggravated 'n' disgustedknowin' as he

did, that the bills was runnin' up all the time an' we warn't makin' a centhe would curl up on a gunny sack

in the corner an' go to sleep. Well, one day when the shaft was down about eight foot, the rock got so hard

that we had to put in a blastthe first blast'n' we'd ever done since Tom Quartz was born. An' then we lit the

fuse 'n' clumb out 'n' got off 'bout fifty yards'n' forgot 'n' left Tom Quartz sound asleep on the gunny sack.

In 'bout a minute we seen a puff of smoke bust up out of the hole, 'n' then everything let go with an awful

crash, 'n' about four million ton of rocks 'n' dirt 'n' smoke 'n; splinters shot up 'bout a mile an' a half into the

air, an' by George, right in the dead centre of it was old Tom Quartz a goin' end over end, an' a snortin' an' a

sneez'n', an' a clawin' an' a reachin' for things like all possessed. But it warn't no use, you know, it warn't no

use. An' that was the last we see of him for about two minutes 'n' a half, an' then all of a sudden it begin to

rain rocks and rubbage, an' directly he come down kerwhop about ten foot off f'm where we stood Well, I

reckon he was p'raps the orneriest lookin' beast you ever see. One ear was sot back on his neck, 'n' his tail was

stove up, 'n' his eyewinkers was swinged off, 'n' he was all blacked up with powder an' smoke, an' all sloppy

Well sir, it warn't no use to try to apologizewe couldn't say a word. He took a sort of a disgusted look at

hisself, 'n' then he looked at us an' it was just exactly the same as if he had said'Gents, may be you think

it's smart to take advantage of a cat that 'ain't had no experience of quartz minin', but I think different'an'

then he turned on his heel 'n' marched off home without ever saying another word.

"That was jest his style. An' may be you won't believe it, but after that you never see a cat so prejudiced agin

quartz mining as what he was. An' by an' bye when he did get to goin' down in the shaft agin, you'd 'a been

astonished at his sagacity. The minute we'd tetch off a blast 'n' the fuse'd begin to sizzle, he'd give a look as

much as to say: 'Well, I'll have to git you to excuse me,' an' it was surpris'n' the way he'd shin out of that hole

I said, "Well, Mr. Baker, his prejudice against quartzmining was remarkable, considering how he came by

"Cure him! No! When Tom Quartz was sot once, he was always sotand you might a blowed him up as

much as three million times 'n' you'd never a broken him of his cussed prejudice agin quartz mining."

The affection and the pride that lit up Baker's face when he delivered this tribute to the firmness of his

At the end of two months we had never "struck" a pocket. We had panned up and down the hillsides till they

looked plowed like a field; we could have put in a crop of grain, then, but there would have been no way to

get it to market. We got many good "prospects," but when the gold gave out in the pan and we dug down,

hoping and longing, we found only emptinessthe pocket that should have been there was as barren as our

own.At last we shouldered our pans and shovels and struck out over the hills to try new localities. We

prospected around Angel's Camp, in Calaveras county, during three weeks, but had no success. Then we

wandered on foot among the mountains, sleeping under the trees at night, for the weather was mild, but still

we remained as centless as the last rose of summer. That is a poor joke, but it is in pathetic harmony with the

circumstances, since we were so poor ourselves. In accordance with the custom of the country, our door had

always stood open and our board welcome to tramping minersthey drifted along nearly every day, dumped

their paust shovels by the threshold and took "pot luck" with usand now on our own tramp we never found

Our wanderings were wide and in many directions; and now I could give the reader a vivid description of the

Big Trees and the marvels of the Yo Semitebut what has this reader done to me that I should persecute

him? I will deliver him into the hands of less conscientious tourists and take his blessing. Let me be

Note: Some of the phrases in the above are mining technicalities, purely, and may be a little obscure to the

general reader. In "placer diggings" the gold is scattered all through the surface dirt; in "pocket" diggings it is

concentrated in one little spot; in "quartz" the gold is in a solid, continuous vein of rock, enclosed between

distinct walls of some other kind of stoneand this is the most laborious and expensive of all the different

kinds of mining. "Prospecting" is hunting for a "placer"; "indications" are signs of its presence; "panning out"

refers to the washing process by which the grains of gold are separated from the dirt; a "prospect" is what one

finds in the first panful of dirtand its value determines whether it is a good or a bad prospect, and whether

After a three months' absence, I found myself in San Francisco again, without a cent. When my credit was

about exhausted, (for I had become too mean and lazy, now, to work on a morning paper, and there were no

vacancies on the evening journals,) I was created San Francisco correspondent of the Enterprise, and at the

end of five months I was out of debt, but my interest in my work was gone; for my correspondence being a

daily one, without rest or respite, I got unspeakably tired of it. I wanted another change. The vagabond

instinct was strong upon me. Fortune favored and I got a new berth and a delightful one. It was to go down to

the Sandwich Islands and write some letters for the Sacramento Union, an excellent journal and liberal with

We sailed in the propeller Ajax, in the middle of winter. The almanac called it winter, distinctly enough, but

the weather was a compromise between spring and summer. Six days out of port, it became summer

altogether. We had some thirty passengers; among them a cheerful soul by the name of Williams, and three

seaworn old whaleship captains going down to join their vessels. These latter played euchre in the smoking

room day and night, drank astonishing quantities of raw whisky without being in the least affected by it, and

were the happiest people I think I ever saw. And then there was "the old Admiral" a retired whaleman. He

was a roaring, terrific combination of wind and lightning and thunder, and earnest, wholesouled profanity.

But nevertheless he was tender hearted as a girl. He was a raving, deafening, devastating typhoon, laying

waste the cowering seas but with an unvexed refuge in the centre where all comers were safe and at rest.

Nobody could know the "Admiral" without liking him; and in a sudden and dire emergency I think no friend

of his would know which to chooseto be cursed by him or prayed for by a less efficient person.

His Title of "Admiral" was more strictly "official" than any ever worn by a naval officer before or since,

perhapsfor it was the voluntary offering of a whole nation, and came direct from the people themselves

without any intermediate red tapethe people of the Sandwich Islands. It was a title that came to him

freighted with affection, and honor, and appreciation of his unpretending merit. And in testimony of the

genuineness of the title it was publicly ordained that an exclusive flag should be devised for him and used

solely to welcome his coming and wave him Godspeed in his going. From that time forth, whenever his ship

was signaled in the offing, or he catted his anchor and stood out to sea, that ensign streamed from the royal

halliards on the parliament house and the nation lifted their hats to it with spontaneous accord.

Yet he had never fired a gun or fought a battle in his life. When I knew him on board the Ajax, he was

seventytwo years old and had plowed the salt water sixtyone of them. For sixteen years he had gone in and

out of the harbor of Honolulu in command of a whaleship, and for sixteen more had been captain of a San

Francisco and Sandwich Island passenger packet and had never had an accident or lost a vessel. The simple

natives knew him for a friend who never failed them, and regarded him as children regard a father. It was a

Two years before I knew the Admiral, he had retired from the sea on a competence, and had sworn a colossal

ninejointed oath that he would "never go within smelling distance of the salt water again as long as he

lived." And he had conscientiously kept it. That is to say, he considered he had kept it, and it would have

been more than dangerous to suggest to him, even in the gentlest way, that making eleven long sea voyages,

as a passenger, during the two years that had transpired since he "retired," was only keeping the general spirit

The Admiral knew only one narrow line of conduct to pursue in any and all cases where there was a fight,

and that was to shoulder his way straight in without an inquiry as to the rights or the merits of it, and take the

part of the weaker side.And this was the reason why he was always sure to be present at the trial of any

universally execrated criminal to oppress and intimidate the jury with a vindictive pantomime of what he

would do to them if he ever caught them out of the box. And this was why harried cats and outlawed dogs

that knew him confidently took sanctuary under his chair in time of trouble. In the beginning he was the most

frantic and bloodthirsty Union man that drew breath in the shadow of the Flag; but the instant the Southerners

began to go down before the sweep of the Northern armies, he ran up the Confederate colors and from that

He hated intemperance with a more uncompromising animosity than any individual I have ever met, of either

sex; and he was never tired of storming against it and beseeching friends and strangers alike to be wary and

drink with moderation. And yet if any creature had been guileless enough to intimate that his absorbing nine

gallons of "straight" whiskey during our voyage was any fraction short of rigid or inflexible abstemiousness,

in that selfsame moment the old man would have spun him to the uttermost parts of the earth in the

whirlwind of his wrath. Mind, I am not saying his whisky ever affected his head or his legs, for it did not, in

even the slightest degree. He was a capacious container, but he did not hold enough for that. He took a level

tumblerful of whisky every morning before he put his clothes on"to sweeten his bilgewater," he said.He

took another after he got the most of his clothes on, "to settle his mind and give him his bearings." He then

shaved, and put on a clean shirt; after which he recited the Lord's Prayer in a fervent, thundering bass that

shook the ship to her kelson and suspended all conversation in the main cabin. Then, at this stage, being

invariably "by the head," or "by the stern," or "listed to port or starboard," he took one more to "put him on an

even keel so that he would mind his hellum and not miss stays and go about, every time he came up in the

wind."And now, his stateroom door swung open and the sun of his benignant face beamed redly out upon

men and women and children, and he roared his "Shipmets a'hoy!" in a way that was calculated to wake the

dead and precipitate the final resurrection; and forth he strode, a picture to look at and a presence to enforce

attention. Stalwart and portly; not a gray hair; broadbrimmed slouch hat; semisailor toggery of blue navy

flannelroomy and ample; a stately expanse of shirtfront and a liberal amount of black silk neckcloth tied

with a sailor knot; large chain and imposing seals impending from his fob; aweinspiring feet, and "a hand

like the hand of Providence," as his whaling brethren expressed it; wristbands and sleeves pushed back half

way to the elbow, out of respect for the warm weather, and exposing hairy arms, gaudy with red and blue

anchors, ships, and goddesses of liberty tattooed in India ink. But these details were only secondary

mattershis face was the lodestone that chained the eye. It was a sultry disk, glowing determinedly out

through a weather beaten mask of mahogany, and studded with warts, seamed with scars, "blazed" all over

with unfailing fresh slips of the razor; and with cheery eyes, under shaggy brows, contemplating the world

from over the back of a gnarled crag of a nose that loomed vast and lonely out of the undulating immensity

that spread away from its foundations. At his heels frisked the darling of his bachelor estate, his terrier "Fan,"

a creature no larger than a squirrel. The main part of his daily life was occupied in looking after "Fan," in a

motherly way, and doctoring her for a hundred ailments which existed only in his imagination.

The Admiral seldom read newspapers; and when he did he never believed anything they said. He read

nothing, and believed in nothing, but "The Old Guard," a secession periodical published in New York. He

carried a dozen copies of it with him, always, and referred to them for all required information. If it was not

there, he supplied it himself, out of a bountiful fancy, inventing history, names, dates, and every thing else

necessary to make his point good in an argument. Consequently he was a formidable antagonist in a dispute.

Whenever he swung clear of the record and began to create history, the enemy was helpless and had to

surrender. Indeed, the enemy could not keep from betraying some little spark of indignation at his

manufactured historyand when it came to indignation, that was the Admiral's very "best hold." He was

always ready for a political argument, and if nobody started one he would do it himself. With his third retort

his temper would begin to rise, and within five minutes he would be blowing a gale, and within fifteen his

smokingroom audience would be utterly stormed away and the old man left solitary and alone, banging the

table with his fist, kicking the chairs, and roaring a hurricane of profanity. It got so, after a while, that

whenever the Admiral approached, with politics in his eye, the passengers would drop out with quiet accord,

But he found his match at last, and before a full company. At one time or another, everybody had entered the

lists against him and been routed, except the quiet passenger Williams. He had never been able to get an

expression of opinion out of him on politics. But now, just as the Admiral drew near the door and the

"Admiral, are you certain about that circumstance concerning the clergymen you mentioned the other

Every one was amazed at the man's rashness. The idea of deliberately inviting annihilation was a thing

incomprehensible. The retreat came to a halt; then everybody sat down again wondering, to await the upshot

of it. The Admiral himself was as surprised as any one. He paused in the door, with his red handkerchief half

"Certain of it? Am I certain of it? Do you think I've been lying about it? What do you take me for? Anybody

that don't know that circumstance, don't know anything; a child ought to know it. Read up your history! Read

it up, and don't come asking a man if he's certain about a bit of ABC stuff that the very southern

Here the Admiral's fires began to wax hot, the atmosphere thickened, the coming earthquake rumbled, he

began to thunder and lighten. Within three minutes his volcano was in full irruption and he was discharging

flames and ashes of indignation, belching black volumes of foul history aloft, and vomiting redhot torrents

of profanity from his crater. Meantime Williams sat silent, and apparently deeply and earnestly interested in

what the old man was saying. By and by, when the lull came, he said in the most deferential way, and with

the gratified air of a man who has had a mystery cleared up which had been puzzling him uncomfortably:

"Now I understand it. I always thought I knew that piece of history well enough, but was still afraid to trust it,

because there was not that convincing particularity about it that one likes to have in history; but when you

mentioned every name, the other day, and every date, and every little circumstance, in their just order and

sequence, I said to myself, this sounds something likethis is historythis is putting it in a shape that gives

a man confidence; and I said to myself afterward, I will just ask the Admiral if he is perfectly certain about

the details, and if he is I will come out and thank him for clearing this matter up for me. And that is what I

want to do nowfor until you set that matter right it was nothing but just a confusion in my mind, without

Nobody ever saw the Admiral look so mollified before, and so pleased. Nobody had ever received his bogus

history as gospel before; its genuineness had always been called in question either by words or looks; but

here was a man that not only swallowed it all down, but was grateful for the dose. He was taken a back; he

hardly knew what to say; even his profanity failed him. Now, Williams continued, modestly and earnestly:

"But Admiral, in saying that this was the first stone thrown, and that this precipitated the war, you have

overlooked a circumstance which you are perfectly familiar with, but which has escaped your memory. Now

I grant you that what you have stated is correct in every detailto wit: that on the 16th of October, 1860, two

Massachusetts clergymen, named Waite and Granger, went in disguise to the house of John Moody, in

Rockport, at dead of night, and dragged forth two southern women and their two little children, and after

tarring and feathering them conveyed them to Boston and burned them alive in the State House square; and I

also grant your proposition that this deed is what led to the secession of South Carolina on the 20th of

December following. Very well." [Here the company were pleasantly surprised to hear Williams proceed to

come back at the Admiral with his own invincible weaponclean, pure, manufactured history, without a

word of truth in it.] "Very well, I say. But Admiral, why overlook the Willis and Morgan case in South

Carolina? You are too well informed a man not to know all about that circumstance. Your arguments and

your conversations have shown you to be intimately conversant with every detail of this national quarrel. You

develop matters of history every day that show plainly that you are no smatterer in it, content to nibble about

the surface, but a man who has searched the depths and possessed yourself of everything that has a bearing

upon the great question. Therefore, let me just recall to your mind that Willis and Morgan casethough I see

by your face that the whole thing is already passing through your memory at this moment. On the 12th of

August, 1860, two months before the Waite and Granger affair, two South Carolina clergymen, named John

H. Morgan and Winthrop L. Willis, one a Methodist and the other an Old School Baptist, disguised

themselves, and went at midnight to the house of a planter named ThompsonArchibald F. Thompson, Vice

President under Thomas Jefferson,and took thence, at midnight, his widowed aunt, (a Northern woman,)

and her adopted child, an orphannamed Mortimer Highie, afflicted with epilepsy and suffering at the time

from white swelling on one of his legs, and compelled to walk on crutches in consequence; and the two

ministers, in spite of the pleadings of the victims, dragged them to the bush, tarred and feathered them, and

afterward burned them at the stake in the city of Charleston. You remember perfectly well what a stir it made;

you remember perfectly well that even the Charleston Courier stigmatized the act as being unpleasant, of

questionable propriety, and scarcely justifiable, and likewise that it would not be matter of surprise if

retaliation ensued. And you remember also, that this thing was the cause of the Massachusetts outrage. Who,

indeed, were the two Massachusetts ministers? and who were the two Southern women they burned? I do not

need to remind you, Admiral, with your intimate knowledge of history, that Waite was the nephew of the

woman burned in Charleston; that Granger was her cousin in the second degree, and that the woman they

burned in Boston was the wife of John H. Morgan, and the still loved but divorced wife of Winthrop L.

Willis. Now, Admiral, it is only fair that you should acknowledge that the first provocation came from the

Southern preachers and that the Northern ones were justified in retaliating. In your arguments you never yet

have shown the least disposition to withhold a just verdict or be in anywise unfair, when authoritative history

condemned your position, and therefore I have no hesitation in asking you to take the original blame from the

Massachusetts ministers, in this matter, and transfer it to the South Carolina clergymen where it justly

The Admiral was conquered. This sweet spoken creature who swallowed his fraudulent history as if it were

the bread of life; basked in his furious blasphemy as if it were generous sunshine; found only calm,

evenhanded justice in his rampart partisanship; and flooded him with invented history so sugarcoated with

flattery and deference that there was no rejecting it, was "too many" for him. He stammered some awkward,

profane sentences about theWillis and Morgan business having escaped his memory, but that he

"remembered it now," and then, under pretence of giving Fan some medicine for an imaginary cough, drew

out of the battle and went away, a vanquished man. Then cheers and laughter went up, and Williams, the

ship's benefactor was a hero. The news went about the vessel, champagne was ordered, and enthusiastic

reception instituted in the smoking room, and everybody flocked thither to shake hands with the conqueror.

The wheelman said afterward, that the Admiral stood up behind the pilot house and "ripped and cursed all to

The Admiral's power was broken. After that, if he began argument, somebody would bring Williams, and the

old man would grow weak and begin to quiet down at once. And as soon as he was done, Williams in his

dulcet, insinuating way, would invent some history (referring for proof, to the old man's own excellent

memory and to copies of "The Old Guard" known not to be in his possession) that would turn the tables

completely and leave the Admiral all abroad and helpless. By and by he came to so dread Williams and his

gilded tongue that he would stop talking when he saw him approach, and finally ceased to mention politics

altogether, and from that time forward there was entire peace and serenity in the ship.

On a certain bright morning the Islands hove in sight, lying low on the lonely sea, and everybody climbed to

the upper deck to look. After two thousand miles of watery solitude the vision was a welcome one. As we

approached, the imposing promontory of Diamond Head rose up out of the ocean its rugged front softened by

the hazy distance, and presently the details of the land began to make themselves manifest: first the line of

beach; then the plumed coacoanut trees of the tropics; then cabins of the natives; then the white town of

Honolulu, said to contain between twelve and fifteen thousand inhabitants spread over a dead level; with

streets from twenty to thirty feet wide, solid and level as a floor, most of them straight as a line and few as

The further I traveled through the town the better I liked it. Every step revealed a new contrastdisclosed

something I was unaccustomed to. In place of the grand mudcolored brown fronts of San Francisco, I saw

dwellings built of straw, adobies, and creamcolored pebbleandshell conglomerated coral, cut into

oblong blocks and laid in cement; also a great number of neat white cottages, with green windowshutters; in

place of front yards like billiardtables with iron fences around them, I saw these homes surrounded by

ample yards, thickly clad with green grass, and shaded by tall trees, through whose dense foliage the sun

could scarcely penetrate; in place of the customary geranium, calla lily, etc., languishing in dust and general

debility, I saw luxurious banks and thickets of flowers, fresh as a meadow after a rain, and glowing with the

richest dyes; in place of the dingy horrors of San Francisco's pleasure grove, the "Willows," I saw

hugebodied, widespreading forest trees, with strange names and stranger appearancetrees that cast a

shadow like a thundercloud, and were able to stand alone without being tied to green poles; in place of gold

fish, wiggling around in glass globes, assuming countless shades and degrees of distortion through the

magnifying and diminishing qualities of their transparent prison houses, I saw cats Tomcats, Mary Ann

cats, longtailed cats, bobtailed cats, blind cats, oneeyed cats, walleyed cats, crosseyed cats, gray cats,

black cats, white cats, yellow cats, striped cats, spotted cats, tame cats, wild cats, singed cats, individual cats,

groups of cats, platoons of cats, companies of cats, regiments of cats, armies of cats, multitudes of cats,

millions of cats, and all of them sleek, fat, lazy and sound asleep. I looked on a multitude of people, some

white, in white coats, vests, pantaloons, even white cloth shoes, made snowy with chalk duly laid on every

morning; but the majority of the people were almost as dark as negroeswomen with comely features, fine

black eyes, rounded forms, inclining to the voluptuous, clad in a single bright red or white garment that fell

free and unconfined from shoulder to heel, long black hair falling loose, gypsy hats, encircled with wreaths of

natural flowers of a brilliant carmine tint; plenty of dark men in various costumes, and some with nothing on

but a battered stovepipe hat tilted on the nose, and a very scant breechclout;certain smokedried

children were clothed in nothing but sunshinea very neat fitting and picturesque apparel indeed.

In place of roughs and rowdies staring and blackguarding on the corners, I saw longhaired, saddlecolored

Sandwich Island maidens sitting on the ground in the shade of corner houses, gazing indolently at whatever

or whoever happened along; instead of wretched cobblestone pavements, I walked on a firm foundation of

coral, built up from the bottom of the sea by the absurd but persevering insect of that name, with a light layer

of lava and cinders overlying the coral, belched up out of fathomless perdition long ago through the seared

and blackened crater that stands dead and harmless in the distance now; instead of cramped and crowded

streetcars, I met dusky native women sweeping by, free as the wind, on fleet horses and astride, with gaudy

ridingsashes, streaming like banners behind them; instead of the combined stenches of Chinadom and

Brannan street slaughterhouses, I breathed the balmy fragrance of jessamine, oleander, and the Pride of

India; in place of the hurry and bustle and noisy confusion of San Francisco, I moved in the midst of a

Summer calm as tranquil as dawn in the Garden of Eden; in place of the Golden City's skirting sand hills and

the placid bay, I saw on the one side a framework of tall, precipitous mountains close at hand, clad in

refreshing green, and cleft by deep, cool, chasmlike valleysand in front the grand sweep of the ocean; a

brilliant, transparent green near the shore, bound and bordered by a long white line of foamy spray dashing

against the reef, and further out the dead blue water of the deep sea, flecked with "white caps," and in the far

horizon a single, lonely sail a mere accentmark to emphasize a slumberous calm and a solitude that were

without sound or limit. When the sun sunk downthe one intruder from other realms and persistent in

suggestions of themit was tranced luxury to sit in the perfumed air and forget that there was any world but

A scorpion bite. Then the first duty was to get up out of the grass and kill the scorpion; and the next to bathe

the bitten place with alcohol or brandy; and the next to resolve to keep out of the grass in future. Then came

an adjournment to the bedchamber and the pastime of writing up the day's journal with one hand and the

destruction of mosquitoes with the othera whole community of them at a slap. Then, observing an enemy

approaching,a hairy tarantula on stiltswhy not set the spittoon on him? It is done, and the projecting

ends of his paws give a luminous idea of the magnitude of his reach. Then to bed and become a promenade

for a centipede with fortytwo legs on a side and every foot hot enough to burn a hole through a rawhide.

More soaking with alcohol, and a resolution to examine the bed before entering it, in future. Then wait, and

suffer, till all the mosquitoes in the neighborhood have crawled in under the bar, then slip out quickly, shut

them in and sleep peacefully on the floor till morning. Meantime it is comforting to curse the tropics in

We had an abundance of fruit in Honolulu, of course. Oranges, pine apples, bananas, strawberries, lemons,

limes, mangoes, guavas, melons, and a rare and curious luxury called the chirimoya, which is deliciousness

itself. Then there is the tamarind. I thought tamarinds were made to eat, but that was probably not the idea. I

ate several, and it seemed to me that they were rather sour that year. They pursed up my lips, till they

resembled the stemend of a tomato, and I had to take my sustenance through a quill for twentyfour hours.

They sharpened my teeth till I could have shaved with them, and gave them a "wire edge" that I was afraid

would stay; but a citizen said "no, it will come off when the enamel does"which was comforting, at any

rate. I found, afterward, that only strangers eat tamarindsbut they only eat them once.

I am probably the most sensitive man in Hawaii tonightespecially about sitting down in the presence of

my betters. I have ridden fifteen or twenty miles on horseback since 5 P.M. and to tell the honest truth, I

An excursion to Diamond Head and the King's Coacoanut Grove was planned todaytime, 4:30 P.M.the

party to consist of half a dozen gentlemen and three ladies. They all started at the appointed hour except

myself. I was at the Government prison, (with Captain Fish and another whaleship skipper, Captain

Phillips,) and got so interested in its examination that I did not notice how quickly the time was passing.

Somebody remarked that it was twenty minutes past five o'clock, and that woke me up. It was a fortunate

circumstance that Captain Phillips was along with his "turn out," as he calls a topbuggy that Captain Cook

brought here in 1778, and a horse that was here when Captain Cook came. Captain Phillips takes a just pride

in his driving and in the speed of his horse, and to his passion for displaying them I owe it that we were only

sixteen minutes coming from the prison to the American Hotela distance which has been estimated to be

over half a mile. But it took some fearful driving. The Captain's whip came down fast, and the blows started

so much dust out of the horse's hide that during the last half of the journey we rode through an impenetrable

fog, and ran by a pocket compass in the hands of Captain Fish, a whaler of twentysix years experience, who

sat there through the perilous voyage as selfpossessed as if he had been on the euchredeck of his own ship,

and calmly said, "Port your helmport," from time to time, and "Hold her a little freesteadyso so,"

and "Luffhard down to starboard!" and never once lost his presence of mind or betrayed the least anxiety

by voice or manner. When we came to anchor at last, and Captain Phillips looked at his watch and said,

"Sixteen minutesI told you it was in her! that's over three miles an hour!" I could see he felt entitled to a

compliment, and so I said I had never seen lightning go like that horse. And I never had.

The landlord of the American said the party had been gone nearly an hour, but that he could give me my

choice of several horses that could overtake them. I said, never mindI preferred a safe horse to a fast

oneI would like to have an excessively gentle horsea horse with no spirit whatevera lame one, if he

had such a thing. Inside of five minutes I was mounted, and perfectly satisfied with my outfit. I had no time

to label him "This is a horse," and so if the public took him for a sheep I cannot help it. I was satisfied, and

that was the main thing. I could see that he had as many fine points as any man's horse, and so I hung my hat

on one of them, behind the saddle, and swabbed the perspiration from my face and started. I named him after

this island, "Oahu" (pronounced Owawhee). The first gate he came to he started in; I had neither whip nor

spur, and so I simply argued the case with him. He resisted argument, but ultimately yielded to insult and

abuse. He backed out of that gate and steered for another one on the other side of the street. I triumphed by

my former process. Within the next six hundred yards he crossed the street fourteen times and attempted

thirteen gates, and in the meantime the tropical sun was beating down and threatening to cave the top of my

head in, and I was literally dripping with perspiration. He abandoned the gate business after that and went

along peaceably enough, but absorbed in meditation. I noticed this latter circumstance, and it soon began to

fill me with apprehension. I said to my self, this creature is planning some new outrage, some fresh deviltry

or otherno horse ever thought over a subject so profoundly as this one is doing just for nothing. The more

this thing preyed upon my mind the more uneasy I became, until the suspense became almost unbearable and

I dismounted to see if there was anything wild in his eyefor I had heard that the eye of this noblest of our

I cannot describe what a load of anxiety was lifted from my mind when I found that he was only asleep. I

woke him up and started him into a faster walk, and then the villainy of his nature came out again. He tried to

climb over a stone wall, five or six feet high. I saw that I must apply force to this horse, and that I might as

well begin first as last. I plucked a stout switch from a tamarind tree, and the moment he saw it, he

surrendered. He broke into a convulsive sort of a canter, which had three short steps in it and one long one,

and reminded me alternately of the clattering shake of the great earthquake, and the sweeping plunging of the

And now there can be no fitter occasion than the present to pronounce a lefthanded blessing upon the man

who invented the American saddle. There is no seat to speak of about itone might as well sit in a shovel

and the stirrups are nothing but an ornamental nuisance. If I were to write down here all the abuse I

expended on those stirrups, it would make a large book, even without pictures. Sometimes I got one foot so

far through, that the stirrup partook of the nature of an anklet; sometimes both feet were through, and I was

handcuffed by the legs; and sometimes my feet got clear out and left the stirrups wildly dangling about my

shins. Even when I was in proper position and carefully balanced upon the balls of my feet, there was no

comfort in it, on account of my nervous dread that they were going to slip one way or the other in a moment.

A mile and a half from town, I came to a grove of tall cocoanut trees, with clean, branchless stems reaching

straight up sixty or seventy feet and topped with a spray of green foliage sheltering clusters of cocoa

nutsnot more picturesque than a forest of collossal ragged parasols, with bunches of magnified grapes

I once heard a gouty northern invalid say that a cocoanut tree might be poetical, possibly it was; but it looked

like a featherduster struck by lightning. I think that describes it better than a pictureand yet, without any

question, there is something fascinating about a cocoanut treeand graceful, too.

About a dozen cottages, some frame and the others of native grass, nestled sleepily in the shade here and

there. The grass cabins are of a grayish color, are shaped much like our own cottages, only with higher and

steeper roofs usually, and are made of some kind of weed strongly bound together in bundles. The roofs are

very thick, and so are the walls; the latter have square holes in them for windows. At a little distance these

cabins have a furry appearance, as if they might be made of bear skins. They are very cool and pleasant

inside. The King's flag was flying from the roof of one of the cottages, and His Majesty was probably within.

He owns the whole concern thereabouts, and passes his time there frequently, on sultry days "laying off." The

Near by is an interesting ruinthe meagre remains of an ancient heathen templea place where human

sacrifices were offered up in those old bygone days when the simple child of nature, yielding momentarily to

sin when sorely tempted, acknowledged his error when calm reflection had shown it him, and came forward

with noble frankness and offered up his grandmother as an atoning sacrificein those old days when the

luckless sinner could keep on cleansing his conscience and achieving periodical happiness as long as his

relations held out; long, long before the missionaries braved a thousand privations to come and make them

permanently miserable by telling them how beautiful and how blissful a place heaven is, and how nearly

impossible it is to get there; and showed the poor native how dreary a place perdition is and what

unnecessarily liberal facilities there are for going to it; showed him how, in his ignorance he had gone and

fooled away all his kinfolks to no purpose; showed him what rapture it is to work all day long for fifty cents

to buy food for next day with, as compared with fishing for pastime and lolling in the shade through eternal

Summer, and eating of the bounty that nobody labored to provide but Nature. How sad it is to think of the

multitudes who have gone to their graves in this beautiful island and never knew there was a hell!

This ancient temple was built of rough blocks of lava, and was simply a roofless inclosure a hundred and

thirty feet long and seventy wide nothing but naked walls, very thick, but not much higher than a man's

head. They will last for ages no doubt, if left unmolested. Its three altars and other sacred appurtenances have

crumbled and passed away years ago. It is said that in the old times thousands of human beings were

slaughtered here, in the presence of naked and howling savages. If these mute stones could speak, what tales

they could tell, what pictures they could describe, of fettered victims writhing under the knife; of massed

forms straining forward out of the gloom, with ferocious faces lit up by the sacrificial fires; of the background

of ghostly trees; of the dark pyramid of Diamond Head standing sentinel over the uncanny scene, and the

When Kamehameha (pronounced Kamayhamayah) the Greatwho was a sort of a Napoleon in

military genius and uniform successinvaded this island of Oahu three quarters of a century ago, and

exterminated the army sent to oppose him, and took full and final possession of the country, he searched out

the dead body of the King of Oahu, and those of the principal chiefs, and impaled their heads on the walls of

Those were savage times when this old slaughterhouse was in its prime. The King and the chiefs ruled the

common herd with a rod of iron; made them gather all the provisions the masters needed; build all the houses

and temples; stand all the expenses, of whatever kind; take kicks and cuffs for thanks; drag out lives well

flavored with misery, and then suffer death for trifling offences or yield up their lives on the sacrificial altars

to purchase favors from the gods for their hard rulers. The missionaries have clothed them, educated them,

broken up the tyrannous authority of their chiefs, and given them freedom and the right to enjoy whatever

their hands and brains produce with equal laws for all, and punishment for all alike who transgress them. The

contrast is so strongthe benefit conferred upon this people by the missionaries is so prominent, so palpable

and so unquestionable, that the frankest compliment I can pay them, and the best, is simply to point to the

condition of the Sandwich Islanders of Captain Cook's time, and their condition today.

By and by, after a rugged climb, we halted on the summit of a hill which commanded a farreaching view.

The moon rose and flooded mountain and valley and ocean with a mellow radiance, and out of the shadows

of the foliage the distant lights of Honolulu glinted like an encampment of fireflies. The air was heavy with

the fragrance of flowers. The halt was brief.Gayly laughing and talking, the party galloped on, and I clung

to the pommel and cantered after. Presently we came to a place where no grass grewa wide expanse of

deep sand. They said it was an old battle ground. All around everywhere, not three feet apart, the bleached

bones of men gleamed white in the moonlight. We picked up a lot of them for mementoes. I got quite a

number of arm bones and leg bones of great chiefs, may be, who had fought savagely in that fearful battle

in the old days, when blood flowed like wine where we now stoodand wore the choicest of them out on

Oahu afterward, trying to make him go. All sorts of bones could be found except skulls; but a citizen said,

irreverently, that there had been an unusual number of "skullhunters" there latelya species of sportsmen I

Nothing whatever is known about this placeits story is a secret that will never be revealed. The oldest

natives make no pretense of being possessed of its history. They say these bones were here when they were

children. They were here when their grandfathers were childrenbut how they came here, they can only

conjecture. Many people believe this spot to be an ancient battleground, and it is usual to call it so; and they

believe that these skeletons have lain for ages just where their proprietors fell in the great fight. Other people

believe that Kamehameha I. fought his first battle here. On this point, I have heard a story, which may have

been taken from one of the numerous books which have been written concerning these islandsI do not

know where the narrator got it. He said that when Kamehameha (who was at first merely a subordinate chief

on the island of Hawaii), landed here, he brought a large army with him, and encamped at Waikiki. The

Oahuans marched against him, and so confident were they of success that they readily acceded to a demand

of their priests that they should draw a line where these bones now lie, and take an oath that, if forced to

retreat at all, they would never retreat beyond this boundary. The priests told them that death and everlasting

punishment would overtake any who violated the oath, and the march was resumed. Kamehameha drove

them back step by step; the priests fought in the front rank and exhorted them both by voice and inspiriting

example to remember their oathto die, if need be, but never cross the fatal line. The struggle was manfully

maintained, but at last the chief priest fell, pierced to the heart with a spear, and the unlucky omen fell like a

blight upon the brave souls at his back; with a triumphant shout the invaders pressed forwardthe line was

crossedthe offended gods deserted the despairing army, and, accepting the doom their perjury had brought

upon them, they broke and fled over the plain where Honolulu stands nowup the beautiful Nuuanu

Valley paused a moment, hemmed in by precipitous mountains on either hand and the frightful precipice

of the Pari in front, and then were driven over a sheer plunge of six hundred feet!

The story is pretty enough, but Mr. Jarves' excellent history says the Oahuans were intrenched in Nuuanu

Valley; that Kamehameha ousted them, routed them, pursued them up the valley and drove them over the

Impressed by the profound silence and repose that rested over the beautiful landscape, and being, as usual, in

"What a picture is here slumbering in the solemn glory of the moon! How strong the rugged outlines of the

dead volcano stand out against the clear sky! What a snowy fringe marks the bursting of the surf over the

long, curved reef! How calmly the dim city sleeps yonder in the plain! How soft the shadows lie upon the

stately mountains that border the dreamhaunted Mauoa Valley! What a grand pyramid of billowy clouds

towers above the storied Pari! How the grim warriors of the past seem flocking in ghostly squadrons to their

At this point the horse called Oahu sat down in the sand. Sat down to listen, I suppose. Never mind what he

heard, I stopped apostrophising and convinced him that I was not a man to allow contempt of Court on the

part of a horse. I broke the backbone of a Chief over his rump and set out to join the cavalcade again.

Very considerably fagged out we arrived in town at 9 o'clock at night, myself in the leadfor when my horse

finally came to understand that he was homeward bound and hadn't far to go, he turned his attention strictly

This is a good time to drop in a paragraph of information. There is no regular livery stable in Honolulu, or,

indeed, in any part of the Kingdom of Hawaii; therefore unless you are acquainted with wealthy residents

(who all have good horses), you must hire animals of the wretchedest description from the Kanakas. (i.e.

natives.) Any horse you hire, even though it be from a white man, is not often of much account, because it

will be brought in for you from some ranch, and has necessarily been leading a hard life. If the Kanakas who

have been caring for him (inveterate riders they are) have not ridden him half to death every day themselves,

you can depend upon it they have been doing the same thing by proxy, by clandestinely hiring him out. At

least, so I am informed. The result is, that no horse has a chance to eat, drink, rest, recuperate, or look well or

In hiring a horse from a Kanaka, you must have all your eyes about you, because you can rest satisfied that

you are dealing with a shrewd unprincipled rascal. You may leave your door open and your trunk unlocked as

long as you please, and he will not meddle with your property; he has no important vices and no inclination

to commit robbery on a large scale; but if he can get ahead of you in the horse business, he will take a

genuine delight in doing it. This traits is characteristic of horse jockeys, the world over, is it not? He will

overcharge you if he can; he will hire you a finelooking horse at night (anybody'smay be the King's, if

the royal steed be in convenient view), and bring you the mate to my Oahu in the morning, and contend that it

is the same animal. If you make trouble, he will get out by saying it was not himself who made the bargain

with you, but his brother, "who went out in the country this morning." They have always got a "brother" to

"But I know I hired the horse of you, because I noticed that scar on your cheek."

A friend of mine, J. Smith, hired a horse yesterday, the Kanaka warranting him to be in excellent condition.

Smith had a saddle and blanket of his own, and he ordered the Kanaka to put these on the horse. The Kanaka

protested that he was perfectly willing to trust the gentleman with the saddle that was already on the animal,

but Smith refused to use it. The change was made; then Smith noticed that the Kanaka had only changed the

saddles, and had left the original blanket on the horse; he said he forgot to change the blankets, and so, to cut

the bother short, Smith mounted and rode away. The horse went lame a mile from town, and afterward got to

cutting up some extraordinary capers. Smith got down and took off the saddle, but the blanket stuck fast to

the horseglued to a procession of raw places. The Kanaka's mysterious conduct stood explained.

Another friend of mine bought a pretty good horse from a native, a day or two ago, after a tolerably thorough

examination of the animal. He discovered today that the horse was as blind as a bat, in one eye. He meant to

have examined that eye, and came home with a general notion that he had done it; but he remembers now that

every time he made the attempt his attention was called to something else by his victimizer.

One more instance, and then I will pass to something else. I am informed that when a certain Mr. L., a

visiting stranger, was here, he bought a pair of very respectablelooking match horses from a native. They

were in a little stable with a partition through the middle of itone horse in each apartment. Mr. L. examined

one of them critically through a window (the Kanaka's "brother" having gone to the country with the key),

and then went around the house and examined the other through a window on the other side. He said it was

the neatest match he had ever seen, and paid for the horses on the spot. Whereupon the Kanaka departed to

join his brother in the country. The fellow had shamefully swindled L. There was only one "match" horse,

and he had examined his starboard side through one window and his port side through another! I decline to

believe this story, but I give it because it is worth something as a fanciful illustration of a fixed factnamely,

You can buy a pretty good horse for forty or fifty dollars, and a good enough horse for all practical purposes

for two dollars and a half. I estimate "Oahu" to be worth somewhere in the neighborhood of thirtyfive cents.

A good deal better animal than he is was sold here day before yesterday for a dollar and seventyfive cents,

and sold again today for two dollars and twentyfive cents; Williams bought a handsome and lively little

pony yesterday for ten dollars; and about the best common horse on the island (and he is a really good one)

sold yesterday, with Mexican saddle and bridle, for seventy dollarsa horse which is well and widely

known, and greatly respected for his speed, good disposition and everlasting bottom.

You give your horse a little grain once a day; it comes from San Francisco, and is worth about two cents a

pound; and you give him as much hay as he wants; it is cut and brought to the market by natives, and is not

very good it is baled into long, round bundles, about the size of a large man; one of them is stuck by the

middle on each end of a six foot pole, and the Kanaka shoulders the pole and walks about the streets between

the upright bales in search of customers. These hay bales, thus carried, have a general resemblance to a

The haybundles cost twentyfive cents apiece, and one will last a horse about a day. You can get a horse for

a song, a week's hay for another song, and you can turn your animal loose among the luxuriant grass in your

neighbor's broad front yard without a song at allyou do it at midnight, and stable the beast again before

morning. You have been at no expense thus far, but when you come to buy a saddle and bridle they will cost

you from twenty to thirtyfive dollars. You can hire a horse, saddle and bridle at from seven to ten dollars a

It is time to close this day's recordbed time. As I prepare for sleep, a rich voice rises out of the still night,

and, far as this ocean rock is toward the ends of the earth, I recognize a familiar home air. But the words seem

Passing through the market place we saw that feature of Honolulu under its most favorable auspicesthat is,

in the full glory of Saturday afternoon, which is a festive day with the natives. The native girls by twos and

threes and parties of a dozen, and sometimes in whole platoons and companies, went cantering up and down

the neighboring streets astride of fleet but homely horses, and with their gaudy riding habits streaming like

banners behind them. Such a troop of free and easy riders, in their natural home, the saddle, makes a gay and

graceful spectacle. The riding habit I speak of is simply a long, broad scarf, like a tavern table cloth brilliantly

colored, wrapped around the loins once, then apparently passed between the limbs and each end thrown

backward over the same, and floating and flapping behind on both sides beyond the horse's tail like a couple

of fancy flags; then, slipping the stirrupirons between her toes, the girl throws her chest for ward, sits up like

The girls put on all the finery they can on Saturday afternoonfine black silk robes; flowing red ones that

nearly put your eyes out; others as white as snow; still others that discount the rainbow; and they wear their

hair in nets, and trim their jaunty hats with fresh flowers, and encircle their dusky throats with homemade

necklaces of the brilliant vermilliontinted blossom of the ohia; and they fill the markets and the adjacent

street with their bright presences, and smell like a rag factory on fire with their offensive cocoanut oil.

Occasionally you see a heathen from the sunny isles away down in the South Seas, with his face and neck

tatooed till he looks like the customary mendicant from Washoe who has been blown up in a mine. Some are

tattooed a dead blue color down to the upper lipmasked, as it were leaving the natural light yellow skin

of Micronesia unstained from thence down; some with broad marks drawn down from hair to neck, on both

sides of the face, and a strip of the original yellow skin, two inches wide, down the centera gridiron with a

spoke broken out; and some with the entire face discolored with the popular mortification tint, relieved only

by one or two thin, wavy threads of natural yellow running across the face from ear to ear, and eyes twinkling

out of this darkness, from under shadowing hatbrims, like stars in the dark of the moon.

Moving among the stirring crowds, you come to the poi merchants, squatting in the shade on their hams, in

true native fashion, and surrounded by purchasers. (The Sandwich Islanders always squat on their hams, and

who knows but they may be the old original "ham sandwiches?" The thought is pregnant with interest.) The

poi looks like common flour paste, and is kept in large bowls formed of a species of gourd, and capable of

holding from one to three or four gallons. Poi is the chief article of food among the natives, and is prepared

The taro root looks like a thick, or, if you please, a corpulent sweet potato, in shape, but is of a light purple

color when boiled. When boiled it answers as a passable substitute for bread. The buck Kanakas bake it under

ground, then mash it up well with a heavy lava pestle, mix water with it until it becomes a paste, set it aside

and let if ferment, and then it is poiand an unseductive mixture it is, almost tasteless before it ferments and

too sour for a luxury afterward. But nothing is more nutritious. When solely used, however, it produces acrid

humors, a fact which sufficiently accounts for the humorous character of the Kanakas. I think there must be

as much of a knack in handling poi as there is in eating with chopsticks. The forefinger is thrust into the mess

and stirred quickly round several times and drawn as quickly out, thickly coated, just as it it were poulticed;

the head is thrown back, the finger inserted in the mouth and the delicacy stripped off and swallowedthe

eye closing gently, meanwhile, in a languid sort of ecstasy. Many a different finger goes into the same bowl

and many a different kind of dirt and shade and quality of flavor is added to the virtues of its contents.

Around a small shanty was collected a crowd of natives buying the awa root. It is said that but for the use of

this root the destruction of the people in former times by certain imported diseases would have been far

greater than it was, and by others it is said that this is merely a fancy. All agree that poi will rejuvenate a man

who is used up and his vitality almost annihilated by hard drinking, and that in some kinds of diseases it will

restore health after all medicines have failed; but all are not willing to allow to the awa the virtues claimed for

it. The natives manufacture an intoxicating drink from it which is fearful in its effects when persistently

indulged in. It covers the body with dry, white scales, inflames the eyes, and causes premature decripitude.

Although the man before whose establishment we stopped has to pay a Government license of eight hundred

dollars a year for the exclusive right to sell awa root, it is said that he makes a small fortune every

twelvemonth; while saloon keepers, who pay a thousand dollars a year for the privilege of retailing whiskey,

We found the fish market crowded; for the native is very fond of fish, and eats the article raw and alive! Let

In old times here Saturday was a grand gala day indeed. All the native population of the town forsook their

labors, and those of the surrounding country journeyed to the city. Then the white folks had to stay indoors,

for every street was so packed with charging cavaliers and cavalieresses that it was next to impossible to

At night they feasted and the girls danced the lascivious hula hulaa dance that is said to exhibit the very

perfection of educated notion of limb and arm, hand, head and body, and the exactest uniformity of

movement and accuracy of "time." It was performed by a circle of girls with no raiment on them to speak of,

who went through an infinite variety of motions and figures without prompting, and yet so true was their

"time," and in such perfect concert did they move that when they were placed in a straight line, hands, arms,

bodies, limbs and heads waved, swayed, gesticulated, bowed, stooped, whirled, squirmed, twisted and

undulated as if they were part and parcel of a single individual; and it was difficult to believe they were not

Of late years, however, Saturday has lost most of its quondam gala features. This weekly stampede of the

natives interfered too much with labor and the interests of the white folks, and by sticking in a law here, and

preaching a sermon there, and by various other means, they gradually broke it up. The demoralizing hula hula

was forbidden to be performed, save at night, with closed doors, in presence of few spectators, and only by

permission duly procured from the authorities and the payment of ten dollars for the same. There are few girls

nowadays able to dance this ancient national dance in the highest perfection of the art.

The missionaries have christianized and educated all the natives. They all belong to the Church, and there is

not one of them, above the age of eight years, but can read and write with facility in the native tongue. It is

the most universally educated race of people outside of China. They have any quantity of books, printed in

the Kanaka language, and all the natives are fond of reading. They are inveterate churchgoers nothing can

keep them away. All this ameliorating cultivation has at last built up in the native women a profound respect

for chastityin other people. Perhaps that is enough to say on that head. The national sin will die out when

the race does, but perhaps not earlier.But doubtless this purifying is not far off, when we reflect that

contact with civilization and the whites has reduced the native population from four hundred thousand

(Captain Cook's estimate,) to fiftyfive thousand in something over eighty years!

Society is a queer medley in this notable missionary, whaling and governmental centre. If you get into

conversation with a stranger and experience that natural desire to know what sort of ground you are treading

on by finding out what manner of man your stranger is, strike out boldly and address him as "Captain."

Watch him narrowly, and if you see by his countenance that you are on the wrong tack, ask him where he

preaches. It is a safe bet that he is either a missionary or captain of a whaler. I am now personally acquainted

with seventytwo captains and ninetysix missionaries. The captains and ministers form onehalf of the

population; the third fourth is composed of common Kanakas and mercantile foreigners and their families,

and the final fourth is made up of high officers of the Hawaiian Government. And there are just about cats

"Really, I beg your pardon, Captain. I trust you had a good season. How much oil"

Major General in the household troops, no doubt? Minister of the Interior, likely? Secretary of war? First

"Bless my life! Then, who the mischief are you? what the mischief are you? and how the mischief did you get

"I'm only a private personagean unassuming strangerlately arrived from America."

"No? Not a missionary! Not a whaler! not a member of his Majesty's Government! not even Secretary of the

Navy! Ah, Heaven! it is too blissful to be true; alas, I do but dream. And yet that noble, honest

countenancethose oblique, ingenuous eyesthat massive head, incapable ofofanything; your hand;

give me your hand, bright waif. Excuse these tears. For sixteen weary years I have yearned for a moment like

Here his feelings were too much for him, and he swooned away. I pitied this poor creature from the bottom of

my heart. I was deeply moved. I shed a few tears on him and kissed him for his mother. I then took what

I found the national Legislature to consist of half a dozen white men and some thirty or forty natives. It was a

dark assemblage. The nobles and Ministers (about a dozen of them altogether) occupied the extreme left of

the hall, with David Kalakaua (the King's Chamberlain) and Prince William at the head. The President of the

Assembly, His Royal Highness M. Kekuanaoa, [Kekuanaoa is not of the blood royal. He derives his princely

rank from his wife, who was a daughter of Kamehameha the Great. Under other monarchies the male line

takes precedence of the female in tracing genealogies, but here the opposite is the casethe female line takes

precedence. Their reason for this is exceedingly sensible, and I recommend it to the aristocracy of Europe:

They say it is easy to know who a man's mother was, but, etc., etc.] and the Vice President (the latter a white

man,) sat in the pulpit, if I may so term it. The President is the King's father. He is an erect, strongly built,

massive featured, whitehaired, tawny old gentleman of eighty years of age or thereabouts. He was simply

but well dressed, in a blue cloth coat and white vest, and white pantaloons, without spot, dust or blemish

upon them. He bears himself with a calm, stately dignity, and is a man of noble presence. He was a young

man and a distinguished warrior under that terrific fighter, Kamehameha I., more than half a century ago. A

knowledge of his career suggested some such thought as this: "This man, naked as the day he was born, and

warclub and spear in hand, has charged at the head of a horde of savages against other hordes of savages

more than a generation and a half ago, and reveled in slaughter and carnage; has worshipped wooden images

on his devout knees; has seen hundreds of his race offered up in heathen temples as sacrifices to wooden

idols, at a time when no missionary's foot had ever pressed this soil, and he had never heard of the white

man's God; has believed his enemy could secretly pray him to death; has seen the day, in his childhood, when

it was a crime punishable by death for a man to eat with his wife, or for a plebeian to let his shadow fall upon

the Kingand now look at him; an educated Christian; neatly and handsomely dressed; a highminded,

elegant gentleman; a traveler, in some degree, and one who has been the honored guest of royalty in Europe;

a man practiced in holding the reins of an enlightened government, and well versed in the politics of his

country and in general, practical information. Look at him, sitting there presiding over the deliberations of a

legislative body, among whom are white mena grave, dignified, statesmanlike personage, and as

seemingly natural and fitted to the place as if he had been born in it and had never been out of it in his life

time. How the experiences of this old man's eventful life shame the cheap inventions of romance!"

The christianizing of the natives has hardly even weakened some of their barbarian superstitions, much less

destroyed them. I have just referred to one of these. It is still a popular belief that if your enemy can get hold

of any article belonging to you he can get down on his knees over it and pray you to death. Therefore many a

native gives up and dies merely because he imagines that some enemy is putting him through a course of

damaging prayer. This praying an individual to death seems absurb enough at a first glance, but then when

we call to mind some of the pulpit efforts of certain of our own ministers the thing looks plausible.

In former times, among the Islanders, not only a plurality of wives was customary, but a plurality of husbands

likewise. Some native women of noble rank had as many as six husbands. A woman thus supplied did not

reside with all her husbands at once, but lived several months with each in turn. An understood sign hung at

In those days woman was rigidly taught to "know her place." Her place was to do all the work, take all the

cuffs, provide all the food, and content herself with what was left after her lord had finished his dinner. She

was not only forbidden, by ancient law, and under penalty of death, to eat with her husband or enter a canoe,

but was debarred, under the same penalty, from eating bananas, pineapples, oranges and other choice fruits

at any time or in any place. She had to confine herself pretty strictly to "poi" and hard work. These poor

ignorant heathen seem to have had a sort of groping idea of what came of woman eating fruit in the garden of

Eden, and they did not choose to take any more chances. But the missionaries broke up this satisfactory

The natives had a romantic fashion of burying some of their children alive when the family became larger

To this day the natives are able to lie down and die whenever they want to, whether there is anything the

matter with them or not. If a Kanaka takes a notion to die, that is the end of him; nobody can persuade him to

A luxury which they enjoy more than anything else, is a large funeral. If a person wants to get rid of a

troublesome native, it is only necessary to promise him a fine funeral and name the hour and he will be on

All the natives are Christians, now, but many of them still desert to the Great Shark God for temporary succor

in time of trouble. An irruption of the great volcano of Kilauea, or an earthquake, always brings a deal of

latent loyalty to the Great Shark God to the surface. It is common report that the King, educated, cultivated

and refined Christian gentleman as he undoubtedly is, still turns to the idols of his fathers for help when

disaster threatens. A planter caught a shark, and one of his christianized natives testified his emancipation

from the thrall of ancient superstition by assisting to dissect the shark after a fashion forbidden by his

abandoned creed. But remorse shortly began to torture him. He grew moody and sought solitude; brooded

over his sin, refused food, and finally said he must die and ought to die, for he had sinned against the Great

Shark God and could never know peace any more. He was proof against persuasion and ridicule, and in the

course of a day or two took to his bed and died, although he showed no symptom of disease. His young

daughter followed his lead and suffered a like fate within the week. Superstition is ingrained in the native

blood and bone and it is only natural that it should crop out in time of distress. Wherever one goes in the

Islands, he will find small piles of stones by the wayside, covered with leafy offerings, placed there by the

natives to appease evil spirits or honor local deities belonging to the mythology of former days.

In the rural districts of any of the Islands, the traveler hourly comes upon parties of dusky maidens bathing in

the streams or in the sea without any clothing on and exhibiting no very intemperate zeal in the matter of

hiding their nakedness. When the missionaries first took up their residence in Honolulu, the native women

would pay their families frequent friendly visits, day by day, not even clothed with a blush. It was found a

hard matter to convince them that this was rather indelicate. Finally the missionaries provided them with

long, loose calico robes, and that ended the difficultyfor the women would troop through the town, stark

naked, with their robes folded under their arms, march to the missionary houses and then proceed to

dress!The natives soon manifested a strong proclivity for clothing, but it was shortly apparent that they

only wanted it for grandeur. The missionaries imported a quantity of hats, bonnets, and other male and female

wearing apparel, instituted a general distribution, and begged the people not to come to church naked, next

Sunday, as usual. And they did not; but the national spirit of unselfishness led them to divide up with

neighbors who were not at the distribution, and next Sabbath the poor preachers could hardly keep

countenance before their vast congregations. In the midst of the reading of a hymn a brown, stately dame

would sweep up the aisle with a world of airs, with nothing in the world on but a "stovepipe" hat and a pair of

cheap gloves; another dame would follow, tricked out in a man's shirt, and nothing else; another one would

enter with a flourish, with simply the sleeves of a bright calico dress tied around her waist and the rest of the

garment dragging behind like a peacock's tail off duty; a stately "buck" Kanaka would stalk in with a

woman's bonnet on, wrong side beforeonly this, and nothing more; after him would stride his fellow, with

the legs of a pair of pantaloons tied around his neck, the rest of his person untrammeled; in his rear would

The poor creatures were beaming with complacency and wholly unconscious of any absurdity in their

appearance. They gazed at each other with happy admiration, and it was plain to see that the young girls were

taking note of what each other had on, as naturally as if they had always lived in a land of Bibles and knew

what churches were made for; here was the evidence of a dawning civilization. The spectacle which the

congregation presented was so extraordinary and withal so moving, that the missionaries found it difficult to

keep to the text and go on with the services; and by and by when the simple children of the sun began a

general swapping of garments in open meeting and produced some irresistibly grotesque effects in the course

of redressing, there was nothing for it but to cut the thing short with the benediction and dismiss the

In our country, children play "keep house;" and in the same highsounding but miniature way the grown folk

here, with the poor little material of slender territory and meagre population, play "empire." There is his royal

Majesty the King, with a New York detective's income of thirty or thirtyfive thousand dollars a year from

the "royal civil list" and the "royal domain." He lives in a twostory frame "palace."

And there is the "royal family"the customary hive of royal brothers, sisters, cousins and other noble drones

and vagrants usual to monarchy, all with a spoon in the national papdish, and all bearing such titles as his

or her Royal Highness the Prince or Princess Soandso. Few of them can carry their royal splendors far

enough to ride in carriages, however; they sport the economical Kanaka horse or "hoof it" with the plebeians.

Then there is his Excellency the "royal Chamberlain"a sinecure, for his majesty dresses himself with his

own hands, except when he is ruralizing at Waikiki and then he requires no dressing.

Next we have his Excellency the Commanderinchief of the Household Troops, whose forces consist of

Next comes the royal Steward and the Grand Equerry in Waitinghigh dignitaries with modest salaries and

Then we have his Excellency the First Gentleman of the Bedchamberan office as easy as it is

Next we come to his Excellency the Prime Minister, a renegade American from New Hampshire, all jaw,

vanity, bombast and ignorance, a lawyer of "shyster" calibre, a fraud by nature, a humble worshiper of the

sceptre above him, a reptile never tired of sneering at the land of his birth or glorifying the tenacre kingdom

that has adopted himsalary, $4,000 a year, vast consequence, and no perquisites.

Then we have his Excellency the Imperial Minister of Finance, who handles a million dollars of public

money a year, sends in his annual "budget" with great ceremony, talks prodigiously of "finance," suggests

imposing schemes for paying off the "national debt" (of $150,000,) and does it all for $4,000 a year and

Next we have his Excellency the Minister of War, who holds sway over the royal armiesthey consist of

two hundred and thirty uniformed Kanakas, mostly Brigadier Generals, and if the country ever gets into

trouble with a foreign power we shall probably hear from them. I knew an American whose copperplate

visiting card bore this impressive legend: "LieutenantColonel in the Royal Infantry. To say that he was

proud of this distinction is stating it but tamely. The Minister of War has also in his charge some venerable

swivels on PunchBowl Hill wherewith royal salutes are fired when foreign vessels of war enter the port.

Next comes his Excellency the Minister of the Navya nabob who rules the "royal fleet," (a steamtug and

And next comes his Grace the Lord Bishop of Honolulu, the chief dignitary of the "Established Church"for

when the American Presbyterian missionaries had completed the reduction of the nation to a compact

condition of Christianity, native royalty stepped in and erected the grand dignity of an "Established

(Episcopal) Church" over it, and imported a cheap readymade Bishop from England to take charge. The

chagrin of the missionaries has never been comprehensively expressed, to this day, profanity not being

Next, their Excellencies the Governors of Oahu, Hawaii, etc., and after them a string of High Sheriffs and

Then there are their Excellencies the Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary of his Imperial

Majesty the Emperor of the French; her British Majesty's Minister; the Minister Resident, of the United

States; and some six or eight representatives of other foreign nations, all with sounding titles, imposing

Imagine all this grandeur in a playhouse "kingdom" whose population falls absolutely short of sixty

The people are so accustomed to ninejointed titles and colossal magnates that a foreign prince makes very

And let it be borne in mind that there is a strictly defined "court costume" of so "stunning" a nature that it

would make the clown in a circus look tame and commonplace by comparison; and each Hawaiian official

dignitary has a gorgeous varicolored, goldlaced uniform peculiar to his officeno two of them are alike,

and it is hard to tell which one is the "loudest." The King had a "drawingroom" at stated intervals, like other

monarchs, and when these varied uniforms congregate thereweakeyed people have to contemplate the

spectacle through smoked glass. Is there not a gratifying contrast between this latterday exhibition and the

one the ancestors of some of these magnates afforded the missionaries the Sunday after the oldtime

While I was in Honolulu I witnessed the ceremonious funeral of the King's sister, her Royal Highness the

Princess Victoria. According to the royal custom, the remains had lain in state at the palace thirty days,

watched day and night by a guard of honor. And during all that time a great multitude of natives from the

several islands had kept the palace grounds well crowded and had made the place a pandemonium every night

with their howlings and wailings, beating of tomtoms and dancing of the (at other times) forbidden

"hulahula" by halfclad maidens to the music of songs of questionable decency chanted in honor of the

deceased. The printed programme of the funeral procession interested me at the time; and after what I have

just said of Hawaiian grandiloquence in the matter of "playing empire," I am persuaded that a perusal of it

I resume my journal at the point where the procession arrived at the royal mausoleum:

The soldiers fired three volleys of musketrythe wailing being previously silenced to permit of the guns

being heard. His Highness Prince William, in a showy military uniform (the "true prince," this scion of the

house overthrown by the present dynastyhe was formerly betrothed to the Princess but was not allowed to

marry her), stood guard and paced back and forth within the door. The privileged few who followed the

coffin into the mausoleum remained sometime, but the King soon came out and stood in the door and near

one side of it. A stranger could have guessed his rank (although he was so simply and unpretentiously

dressed) by the profound deference paid him by all persons in his vicinity; by seeing his high officers receive

his quiet orders and suggestions with bowed and uncovered heads; and by observing how careful those

persons who came out of the mausoleum were to avoid "crowding" him (although there was room enough in

the doorway for a wagon to pass, for that matter); how respectfully they edged out sideways, scraping their

backs against the wall and always presenting a front view of their persons to his Majesty, and never putting

He was dressed entirely in blackdresscoat and silk hatand looked rather democratic in the midst of the

showy uniforms about him. On his breast he wore a large gold star, which was half hidden by the lapel of his

coat. He remained at the door a half hour, and occasionally gave an order to the men who were erecting the

kahilis [Ranks of longhandled mops made of gaudy featherssacred to royalty. They are stuck in the

ground around the tomb and left there.] before the tomb. He had the good taste to make one of them

substitute black crape for the ordinary hempen rope he was about to tie one of them to the framework with.

Finally he entered his carriage and drove away, and the populace shortly began to drop into his wake. While

he was in view there was but one man who attracted more attention than himself, and that was Harris (the

Yankee Prime Minister). This feeble personage had crape enough around his hat to express the grief of an

entire nation, and as usual he neglected no opportunity of making himself conspicuous and exciting the

It is interesting to contrast the funeral ceremonies of the Princess Victoria with those of her noted ancestor

Kamehameha the Conqueror, who died fifty years agoin 1819, the year before the first missionaries came.

The account of the circumstances of his death, as written by the native historians, is full of minute detail, but

there is scarcely a line of it which does not mention or illustrate some bygone custom of the country. In this

respect it is the most comprehensive document I have yet met with. I will quote it entire:

You have the contrast, now, and a strange one it is. This great Queen, Kaahumanu, who was "subjected to

abuse" during the frightful orgies that followed the King's death, in accordance with ancient custom,

afterward became a devout Christian and a steadfast and powerful friend of the missionaries.

Dogs were, and still are, reared and fattened for food, by the natives hence the reference to their value in

Forty years ago it was the custom in the Islands to suspend all law for a certain number of days after the death

of a royal personage; and then a saturnalia ensued which one may picture to himself after a fashion, but not in

the full horror of the reality. The people shaved their heads, knocked out a tooth or two, plucked out an eye

sometimes, cut, bruised, mutilated or burned their flesh, got drunk, burned each other's huts, maimed or

murdered one another according to the caprice of the moment, and both sexes gave themselves up to brutal

And after it all, came a torpor from which the nation slowly emerged bewildered and dazed, as if from a

hideous halfremembered nightmare. They were not the salt of the earth, those "gentle children of the sun."

The natives still keep up an old custom of theirs which cannot be comforting to an invalid. When they think a

sick friend is going to die, a couple of dozen neighbors surround his hut and keep up a deafening wailing

night and day till he either dies or gets well. No doubt this arrangement has helped many a subject to a shroud

They surround a hut and wail in the same heartbroken way when its occupant returns from a journey. This is

their dismal idea of a welcome. A very little of it would go a great way with most of us.

Bound for Hawaii (a hundred and fifty miles distant,) to visit the great volcano and behold the other notable

things which distinguish that island above the remainder of the group, we sailed from Honolulu on a certain

The Boomerang was about as long as two street cars, and about as wide as one. She was so small (though she

was larger than the majority of the interisland coasters) that when I stood on her deck I felt but little smaller

than the Colossus of Rhodes must have felt when he had a manof war under him. I could reach the water

when she lay over under a strong breeze. When the Captain and my comrade (a Mr. Billings), myself and

four other persons were all assembled on the little after portion of the deck which is sacred to the cabin

passengers, it was fullthere was not room for any more quality folks. Another section of the deck, twice as

large as ours, was full of natives of both sexes, with their customary dogs, mats, blankets, pipes, calabashes

of poi, fleas, and other luxuries and baggage of minor importance. As soon as we set sail the natives all lay

down on the deck as thick as negroes in a slavepen, and smoked, conversed, and spit on each other, and

The little lowceiled cabin below was rather larger than a hearse, and as dark as a vault. It had two coffins on

each sideI mean two bunks. A small table, capable of accommodating three persons at dinner, stood

against the forward bulkhead, and over it hung the dingiest whale oil lantern that ever peopled the obscurity

of a dungeon with ghostly shapes. The floor room unoccupied was not extensive. One might swing a cat in it,

perhaps, but not a long cat. The hold forward of the bulkhead had but little freight in it, and from morning till

night a portly old rooster, with a voice like Baalam's ass, and the same disposition to use it, strutted up and

down in that part of the vessel and crowed. He usually took dinner at six o'clock, and then, after an hour

devoted to meditation, he mounted a barrel and crowed a good part of the night. He got hoarser all the time,

but he scorned to allow any personal consideration to interfere with his duty, and kept up his labors in

Sleeping was out of the question when he was on watch. He was a source of genuine aggravation and

annoyance. It was worse than useless to shout at him or apply offensive epithets to himhe only took these

things for applause, and strained himself to make more noise. Occasionally, during the day, I threw potatoes

at him through an aperture in the bulkhead, but he only dodged and went on crowing.

The first night, as I lay in my coffin, idly watching the dim lamp swinging to the rolling of the ship, and

snuffing the nauseous odors of bilge water, I felt something gallop over me. I turned out promptly. However,

I turned in again when I found it was only a rat. Presently something galloped over me once more. I knew it

was not a rat this time, and I thought it might be a centipede, because the Captain had killed one on deck in

the afternoon. I turned out. The first glance at the pillow showed me repulsive sentinel perched upon each end

of itcockroaches as large as peach leavesfellows with long, quivering antennae and fiery, malignant

eyes. They were grating their teeth like tobacco worms, and appeared to be dissatisfied about something. I

had often heard that these reptiles were in the habit of eating off sleeping sailors' toe nails down to the quick,

and I would not get in the bunk any more. I lay down on the floor. But a rat came and bothered me, and

shortly afterward a procession of cockroaches arrived and camped in my hair. In a few moments the rooster

was crowing with uncommon spirit and a party of fleas were throwing double somersaults about my person in

the wildest disorder, and taking a bite every time they struck. I was beginning to feel really annoyed. I got up

The above is not overdrawn; it is a truthful sketch of interisland schooner life. There is no such thing as

It was compensation for my sufferings to come unexpectedly upon so beautiful a scene as met my eyeto

step suddenly out of the sepulchral gloom of the cabin and stand under the strong light of the moonin the

centre, as it were, of a glittering sea of liquid silverto see the broad sails straining in the gale, the ship

heeled over on her side, the angry foam hissing past her lee bulwarks, and sparkling sheets of spray dashing

high over her bows and raining upon her decks; to brace myself and hang fast to the first object that presented

itself, with hat jammed down and coat tails whipping in the breeze, and feel that exhilaration that thrills in

one's hair and quivers down his back bone when he knows that every inch of canvas is drawing and the vessel

cleaving through the waves at her utmost speed. There was no darkness, no dimness, no obscurity there. All

was brightness, every object was vividly defined. Every prostrate Kanaka; every coil of rope; every calabash

of poi; every puppy; every seam in the flooring; every bolthead; every object; however minute, showed sharp

and distinct in its every outline; and the shadow of the broad mainsail lay black as a pall upon the deck,

leaving Billings's white upturned face glorified and his body in a total eclipse. Monday morning we were

close to the island of Hawaii. Two of its high mountains were in viewMauna Loa and Hualaiai.

The latter is an imposing peak, but being only ten thousand feet high is seldom mentioned or heard of. Mauna

Loa is said to be sixteen thousand feet high. The rays of glittering snow and ice, that clasped its summit like a

claw, looked refreshing when viewed from the blistering climate we were in. One could stand on that

mountain (wrapped up in blankets and furs to keep warm), and while he nibbled a snowball or an icicle to

quench his thirst he could look down the long sweep of its sides and see spots where plants are growing that

grow only where the bitter cold of Winter prevails; lower down he could see sections devoted to production

that thrive in the temperate zone alone; and at the bottom of the mountain he could see the home of the tufted

cocoapalms and other species of vegetation that grow only in the sultry atmosphere of eternal Summer. He

could see all the climes of the world at a single glance of the eye, and that glance would only pass over a

By and by we took boat and went ashore at Kailua, designing to ride horseback through the pleasant orange

and coffee region of Kona, and rejoin the vessel at a point some leagues distant. This journey is well worth

taking. The trail passes along on high groundsay a thousand feet above sea leveland usually about a

mile distant from the ocean, which is always in sight, save that occasionally you find yourself buried in the

forest in the midst of a rank tropical vegetation and a dense growth of trees, whose great bows overarch the

road and shut out sun and sea and everything, and leave you in a dim, shady tunnel, haunted with invisible

singing birds and fragrant with the odor of flowers. It was pleasant to ride occasionally in the warm sun, and

feast the eye upon the ever changing panorama of the forest (beyond and below us), with its many tints, its

softened lights and shadows, its billowy undulations sweeping gently down from the mountain to the sea. It

was pleasant also, at intervals, to leave the sultry sun and pass into the cool, green depths of this forest and

indulge in sentimental reflections under the inspiration of its brooding twilight and its whispering foliage. We

rode through one orange grove that had ten thousand tree in it! They were all laden with fruit.

At one farmhouse we got some large peaches of excellent flavor. This fruit, as a general thing, does not do

well in the Sandwich Islands. It takes a sort of almond shape, and is small and bitter. It needs frost, they say,

and perhaps it does; if this be so, it will have a good opportunity to go on needing it, as it will not be likely to

get it. The trees from which the fine fruit I have spoken of, came, had been planted and replanted sixteen

times, and to this treatment the proprietor of the orchard attributed hissuccess.

We passed several sugar plantationsnew ones and not very extensive. The crops were, in most cases, third

rattoons. [NOTE.The first crop is called "plant cane;" subsequent crops which spring from the original

roots, without replanting, are called "rattoons."] Almost everywhere on the island of Hawaii sugarcane

matures in twelve months, both rattoons and plant, and although it ought to be taken off as soon as it tassels,

no doubt, it is not absolutely necessary to do it until about four months afterward. In Kona, the average yield

of an acre of ground is two tons of sugar, they say. This is only a moderate yield for these islands, but would

be astounding for Louisiana and most other sugar growing countries. The plantations in Kona being on pretty

high groundup among the light and frequent rainsno irrigation whatever is required.

We stopped some time at one of the plantations, to rest ourselves and refresh the horses. We had a chatty

conversation with several gentlemen present; but there was one person, a middle aged man, with an absent

look in his face, who simply glanced up, gave us goodday and lapsed again into the meditations which our

coming had interrupted. The planters whispered us not to mind himcrazy. They said he was in the Islands

for his health; was a preacher; his home, Michigan. They said that if he woke up presently and fell to talking

about a correspondence which he had some time held with Mr. Greeley about a trifle of some kind, we must

humor him and listen with interest; and we must humor his fancy that this correspondence was the talk of the

It was easy to see that he was a gentle creature and that his madness had nothing vicious in it. He looked pale,

and a little worn, as if with perplexing thought and anxiety of mind. He sat a long time, looking at the floor,

and at intervals muttering to himself and nodding his head acquiescingly or shaking it in mild protest. He was

lost in his thought, or in his memories. We continued our talk with the planters, branching from subject to

subject. But at last the word "circumstance," casually dropped, in the course of conversation, attracted his

attention and brought an eager look into his countenance. He faced about in his chair and said:

"Circumstance? What circumstance? Ah, I knowI know too well. So you have heard of it too." [With a

sigh.] "Well, no matterall the world has heard of it. All the world. The whole world. It is a large world,

too, for a thing to travel so far innow isn't it? Yes, yesthe Greeley correspondence with Erickson has

created the saddest and bitterest controversy on both sides of the oceanand still they keep it up! It makes us

famous, but at what a sorrowful sacrifice! I was so sorry when I heard that it had caused that bloody and

distressful war over there in Italy. It was little comfort to me, after so much bloodshed, to know that the

victors sided with me, and the vanquished with Greeley.It is little comfort to know that Horace Greeley is

"Queen Victoria wrote me that she felt just as I did about itshe said that as much as she was opposed to

Greeley and the spirit he showed in the correspondence with me, she would not have had Sadowa happen for

hundreds of dollars. I can show you her letter, if you would like to see it. But gentlemen, much as you may

think you know about that unhappy correspondence, you cannot know the straight of it till you hear it from

my lips. It has always been garbled in the journals, and even in history. Yes, even in historythink of it! Let

meplease let me, give you the matter, exactly as it occurred. I truly will not abuse your confidence."

Then he leaned forward, all interest, all earnestness, and told his storyand told it appealingly, too, and yet

in the simplest and most unpretentious way; indeed, in such a way as to suggest to one, all the time, that this

was a faithful, honorable witness, giving evidence in the sacred interest of justice, and under oath. He said:

"Mrs. BeazeleyMrs. Jackson Beazeley, widow, of the village of Campbellton, Kansas,wrote me about a

matter which was near her heart a matter which many might think trivial, but to her it was a thing of deep

concern. I was living in Michigan, thenserving in the ministry. She was, and is, an estimable womana

woman to whom poverty and hardship have proven incentives to industry, in place of discouragements. Her

only treasure was her son William, a youth just verging upon manhood; religious, amiable, and sincerely

attached to agriculture. He was the widow's comfort and her pride. And so, moved by her love for him, she

wrote me about a matter, as I have said before, which lay near her heart because it lay near her boy's. She

desired me to confer with Mr. Greeley about turnips. Turnips were the dream of her child's young ambition.

While other youths were frittering away in frivolous amusements the precious years of budding vigor which

God had given them for useful preparation, this boy was patiently enriching his mind with information

concerning turnips. The sentiment which he felt toward the turnip was akin to adoration. He could not think

of the turnip without emotion; he could not speak of it calmly; he could not contemplate it without exaltation.

He could not eat it without shedding tears. All the poetry in his sensitive nature was in sympathy with the

gracious vegetable. With the earliest pipe of dawn he sought his patch, and when the curtaining night drove

him from it he shut himself up with his books and garnered statistics till sleep overcame him. On rainy days

he sat and talked hours together with his mother about turnips. When company came, he made it his loving

duty to put aside everything else and converse with them all the day long of his great joy in the turnip.

And yet, was this joy rounded and complete? Was there no secret alloy of unhappiness in it? Alas, there was.

There was a canker gnawing at his heart; the noblest inspiration of his soul eluded his endeavorviz: he

could not make of the turnip a climbing vine. Months went by; the bloom forsook his cheek, the fire faded

out of his eye; sighings and abstraction usurped the place of smiles and cheerful converse. But a watchful eye

noted these things and in time a motherly sympathy unsealed the secret. Hence the letter to me. She pleaded

"I was a stranger to Mr. Greeley, but what of that? The matter was urgent. I wrote and begged him to solve

the difficult problem if possible and save the student's life. My interest grew, until it partook of the anxiety of

"I found that I could not read it readily, the handwriting being unfamiliar and my emotions somewhat

wrought up. It seemed to refer in part to the boy's case, but chiefly to other and irrelevant matterssuch as

pavingstones, electricity, oysters, and something which I took to be 'absolution' or 'agrarianism,' I could not

be certain which; still, these appeared to be simply casual mentions, nothing more; friendly in spirit, without

doubt, but lacking the connection or coherence necessary to make them useful.I judged that my

understanding was affected by my feelings, and so laid the letter away till morning.

"In the morning I read it again, but with difficulty and uncertainty still, for I had lost some little rest and my

mental vision seemed clouded. The note was more connected, now, but did not meet the emergency it was

expected to meet. It was too discursive. It appeared to read as follows, though I was not certain of some of the

"But there did not seem to be a word about turnips. There seemed to be no suggestion as to how they might

be made to grow like vines. There was not even a reference to the Beazeleys. I slept upon the matter; I ate no

supper, neither any breakfast next morning. So I resumed my work with a brain refreshed, and was very

hopeful. Now the letter took a different aspectall save the signature, which latter I judged to be only a

harmless affectation of Hebrew. The epistle was necessarily from Mr. Greeley, for it bore the printed heading

of The Tribune, and I had written to no one else there. The letter, I say, had taken a different aspect, but still

"I was evidently overworked. My comprehension was impaired. Therefore I gave two days to recreation, and

"I was still not satisfied. These generalities did not meet the question. They were crisp, and vigorous, and

delivered with a confidence that almost compelled conviction; but at such a time as this, with a human life at

stake, they seemed inappropriate, worldly, and in bad taste. At any other time I would have been not only

glad, but proud, to receive from a man like Mr. Greeley a letter of this kind, and would have studied it

earnestly and tried to improve myself all I could; but now, with that poor boy in his far home languishing for

"Three days passed by, and I read the note again. Again its tenor had changed. It now appeared to say:

"This was more like it. But I was unable to proceed. I was too much worn. The word 'turnips' brought

temporary joy and encouragement, but my strength was so much impaired, and the delay might be so perilous

for the boy, that I relinquished the idea of pursuing the translation further, and resolved to do what I ought to

"In the course of a few days, Mr. Greely did what would have saved a world of trouble, and much mental and

bodily suffering and misunderstanding, if he had done it sooner. To wit, he sent an intelligible rescript or

translation of his original note, made in a plain hand by his clerk. Then the mystery cleared, and I saw that his

heart had been right, all the time. I will recite the note in its clarified form:

"But alas, it was too late, gentlementoo late. The criminal delay had done its workyoung Beazely was

no more. His spirit had taken its flight to a land where all anxieties shall be charmed away, all desires

gratified, all ambitions realized. Poor lad, they laid him to his rest with a turnip in each hand."

So ended Erickson, and lapsed again into nodding, mumbling, and abstraction. The company broke up, and

left him so.... But they did not say what drove him crazy. In the momentary confusion, I forgot to ask.

At four o'clock in the afternoon we were winding down a mountain of dreary and desolate lava to the sea, and

closing our pleasant land journey. This lava is the accumulation of ages; one torrent of fire after another has

rolled down here in old times, and built up the island structure higher and higher. Underneath, it is

honeycombed with caves; it would be of no use to dig wells in such a place; they would not hold

wateryou would not find any for them to hold, for that matter. Consequently, the planters depend upon

The last lava flow occurred here so long ago that there are none now living who witnessed it. In one place it

enclosed and burned down a grove of cocoanut trees, and the holes in the lava where the trunks stood are

still visible; their sides retain the impression of the bark; the trees fell upon the burning river, and becoming

partly submerged, left in it the perfect counterpart of every knot and branch and leaf, and even nut, for

There were doubtless plenty of Kanaka sentinels on guard hereabouts at that time, but they did not leave casts

of their figures in the lava as the Roman sentinels at Herculaneum and Pompeii did. It is a pity it is so,

because such things are so interesting; but so it is. They probably went away. They went away early, perhaps.

However, they had their merits; the Romans exhibited the higher pluck, but the Kanakas showed the sounder

Shortly we came in sight of that spot whose history is so familiar to every schoolboy in the wide

worldKealakekua Baythe place where Captain Cook, the great circumnavigator, was killed by the

natives, nearly a hundred years ago. The setting sun was flaming upon it, a Summer shower was falling, and

it was spanned by two magnificent rainbows. Two men who were in advance of us rode through one of these

and for a moment their garments shone with a more than regal splendor. Why did not Captain Cook have

taste enough to call his great discovery the Rainbow Islands? These charming spectacles are present to you at

every turn; they are common in all the islands; they are visible every day, and frequently at night alsonot

the silvery bow we see once in an age in the States, by moonlight, but barred with all bright and beautiful

colors, like the children of the sun and rain. I saw one of them a few nights ago. What the sailors call

"raindogs"little patches of rainbow are often seen drifting about the heavens in these latitudes, like

Kealakekua Bay is a little curve like the last kink of a snailshell, winding deep into the land, seemingly not

more than a mile wide from shore to shore. It is bounded on one sidewhere the murder was doneby a

little flat plain, on which stands a cocoanut grove and some ruined houses; a steep wall of lava, a thousand

feet high at the upper end and three or four hundred at the lower, comes down from the mountain and bounds

the inner extremity of it. From this wall the place takes its name, Kealakekua, which in the native tongue

signifies "The Pathway of the Gods." They say, (and still believe, in spite of their liberal education in

Christianity), that the great god Lono, who used to live upon the hillside, always traveled that causeway when

urgent business connected with heavenly affairs called him down to the seashore in a hurry.

As the red sun looked across the placid ocean through the tall, clean stems of the cocoanut trees, like a

blooming whiskey bloat through the bars of a city prison, I went and stood in the edge of the water on the flat

rock pressed by Captain Cook's feet when the blow was dealt which took away his life, and tried to picture in

my mind the doomed man struggling in the midst of the multitude of exasperated savagesthe men in the

ship crowding to the vessel's side and gazing in anxious dismay toward the shorethebut I discovered

It was growing dark, the rain began to fall, we could see that the distant Boomerang was helplessly becalmed

at sea, and so I adjourned to the cheerless little box of a warehouse and sat down to smoke and think, and

wish the ship would make the landfor we had not eaten much for ten hours and were viciously hungry.

Plain unvarnished history takes the romance out of Captain Cook's assassination, and renders a deliberate

verdict of justifiable homicide. Wherever he went among the islands, he was cordially received and

welcomed by the inhabitants, and his ships lavishly supplied with all manner of food. He returned these

kindnesses with insult and ill treatment. Perceiving that the people took him for the long vanished and

lamented god Lono, he encouraged them in the delusion for the sake of the limitless power it gave him; but

during the famous disturbance at this spot, and while he and his comrades were surrounded by fifteen

thousand maddened savages, he received a hurt and betrayed his earthly origin with a groan. It was his

deathwarrant. Instantly a shout went up: "He groans!he is not a god!" So they closed in upon him and

His flesh was stripped from the bones and burned (except nine pounds of it which were sent on board the

ships). The heart was hung up in a native hut, where it was found and eaten by three children, who mistook it

for the heart of a dog. One of these children grew to be a very old man, and died in Honolulu a few years ago.

Some of Cook's bones were recovered and consigned to the deep by the officers of the ships.

Small blame should attach to the natives for the killing of Cook. They treated him well. In return, he abused

them. He and his men inflicted bodily injury upon many of them at different times, and killed at least three of

Near the shore we found "Cook's Monument"only a cocoanut stump, four feet high and about a foot in

diameter at the butt. It had lava boulders piled around its base to hold it up and keep it in its place, and it was

entirely sheathed over, from top to bottom, with rough, discolored sheets of copper, such as ships' bottoms

are coppered with. Each sheet had a rude inscription scratched upon itwith a nail, apparentlyand in

every case the execution was wretched. Most of these merely recorded the visits of British naval commanders

After Cook's murder, his second in command, on board the ship, opened fire upon the swarms of natives on

the beach, and one of his cannon balls cut this cocoanut tree short off and left this monumental stump

standing. It looked sad and lonely enough to us, out there in the rainy twilight. But there is no other

monument to Captain Cook. True, up on the mountain side we had passed by a large inclosure like an ample

hogpen, built of lava blocks, which marks the spot where Cook's flesh was stripped from his bones and

burned; but this is not properly a monument since it was erected by the natives themselves, and less to do

honor to the circumnavigator than for the sake of convenience in roasting him. A thing like a guideboard

was elevated above this pen on a tall pole, and formerly there was an inscription upon it describing the

memorable occurrence that had there taken place; but the sun and the wind have long ago so defaced it as to

Toward midnight a fine breeze sprang up and the schooner soon worked herself into the bay and cast anchor.

The boat came ashore for us, and in a little while the clouds and the rain were all gone. The moon was

beaming tranquilly down on land and sea, and we two were stretched upon the deck sleeping the refreshing

sleep and dreaming the happy dreams that are only vouchsafed to the weary and the innocent.

In the breezy morning we went ashore and visited the ruined temple of the last god Lono. The high chief cook

of this templethe priest who presided over it and roasted the human sacrificeswas uncle to Obookia, and

at one time that youth was an apprenticepriest under him. Obookia was a young native of fine mind, who,

together with three other native boys, was taken to New England by the captain of a whaleship during the

reign of Kamehameha I, and they were the means of attracting the attention of the religious world to their

country. This resulted in the sending of missionaries there. And this Obookia was the very same sensitive

savage who sat down on the church steps and wept because his people did not have the Bible. That incident

has been very elaborately painted in many a charming Sunday School bookaye, and told so plaintively and

so tenderly that I have cried over it in Sunday School myself, on general principles, although at a time when I

did not know much and could not understand why the people of the Sandwich Islands needed to worry so

Obookia was converted and educated, and was to have returned to his native land with the first missionaries,

had he lived. The other native youths made the voyage, and two of them did good service, but the third,

William Kanui, fell from grace afterward, for a time, and when the gold excitement broke out in California he

journeyed thither and went to mining, although he was fifty years old. He succeeded pretty well, but the

failure of Page, Bacon Co. relieved him of six thousand dollars, and then, to all intents and purposes, he was a

bankrupt in his old age and he resumed service in the pulpit again. He died in Honolulu in 1864.

Quite a broad tract of land near the temple, extending from the sea to the mountain top, was sacred to the god

Lono in olden timesso sacred that if a common native set his sacrilegious foot upon it it was judicious for

him to make his will, because his time had come. He might go around it by water, but he could not cross it. It

was well sprinkled with pagan temples and stocked with awkward, homely idols carved out of logs of wood.

There was a temple devoted to prayers for rainand with fine sagacity it was placed at a point so well up on

the mountain side that if you prayed there twentyfour times a day for rain you would be likely to get it every

time. You would seldom get to your Amen before you would have to hoist your umbrella.

And there was a large temple near at hand which was built in a single night, in the midst of storm and thunder

and rain, by the ghastly hands of dead men! Tradition says that by the weird glare of the lightning a noiseless

multitude of phantoms were seen at their strange labor far up the mountain side at dead of nightflitting

hither and thither and bearing great lavablocks clasped in their nerveless fingersappearing and

disappearing as the pallid lustre fell upon their forms and faded away again. Even to this day, it is said, the

natives hold this dread structure in awe and reverence, and will not pass by it in the night.

At noon I observed a bevy of nude native young ladies bathing in the sea, and went and sat down on their

clothes to keep them from being stolen. I begged them to come out, for the sea was rising and I was satisfied

that they were running some risk. But they were not afraid, and presently went on with their sport. They were

They swam races, splashed and ducked and tumbled each other about, and filled the air with their laughter. It

is said that the first thing an Islander learns is how to swim; learning to walk being a matter of smaller

consequence, comes afterward. One hears tales of native men and women swimming ashore from vessels

many miles at seamore miles, indeed, than I dare vouch for or even mention. And they tell of a native

diver who went down in thirty or fortyfoot waters and brought up an anvil! I think he swallowed the anvil

I have spoken, several times, of the god LonoI may as well furnish two or three sentences concerning him.

The idol the natives worshipped for him was a slender, unornamented staff twelve feet long. Tradition says he

was a favorite god on the Island of Hawaiia great king who had been deified for meritorious servicesjust

our own fashion of rewarding heroes, with the difference that we would have made him a Postmaster instead

of a god, no doubt. In an angry moment he slew his wife, a goddess named Kaikilani Aiii. Remorse of

conscience drove him mad, and tradition presents us the singular spectacle of a god traveling "on the

shoulder;" for in his gnawing grief he wandered about from place to place boxing and wrestling with all

whom he met. Of course this pastime soon lost its novelty, inasmuch as it must necessarily have been the

case that when so powerful a deity sent a frail human opponent "to grass" he never came back any more.

Therefore, he instituted games called makahiki, and ordered that they should be held in his honor, and then

sailed for foreign lands on a threecornered raft, stating that he would return some dayand that was the last

of Lono. He was never seen any more; his raft got swamped, perhaps. But the people always expected his

return, and thus they were easily led to accept Captain Cook as the restored god.

Some of the old natives believed Cook was Lono to the day of their death; but many did not, for they could

Only a mile or so from Kealakekua Bay is a spot of historic interestthe place where the last battle was

fought for idolatry. Of course we visited it, and came away as wise as most people do who go and gaze upon

While the first missionaries were on their way around the Horn, the idolatrous customs which had obtained in

the island, as far back as tradition reached were suddenly broken up. Old Kamehameha I., was dead, and his

son, Liholiho, the new King was a free liver, a roystering, dissolute fellow, and hated the restraints of the

ancient tabu. His assistant in the Government, Kaahumanu, the Queen dowager, was proud and highspirited,

and hated the tabu because it restricted the privileges of her sex and degraded all women very nearly to the

level of brutes. So the case stood. Liholiho had half a mind to put his foot down, Kaahumahu had a whole

mind to badger him into doing it, and whiskey did the rest. It was probably the rest. It was probably the first

time whiskey ever prominently figured as an aid to civilization. Liholiho came up to Kailua as drunk as a

piper, and attended a great feast; the determined Queen spurred his drunken courage up to a reckless pitch,

and then, while all the multitude stared in blank dismay, he moved deliberately forward and sat down with

They saw him eat from the same vessel with them, and were appalled! Terrible moments drifted slowly by,

and still the King ate, still he lived, still the lightnings of the insulted gods were withheld! Then conviction

came like a revelationthe superstitions of a hundred generations passed from before the people like a

Thus did King Liholiho and his dreadful whiskey preach the first sermon and prepare the way for the new

The tabu broken and destruction failing to follow the awful sacrilege, the people, with that childlike

precipitancy which has always characterized them, jumped to the conclusion that their gods were a weak and

wretched swindle, just as they formerly jumped to the conclusion that Captain Cook was no god, merely

because he groaned, and promptly killed him without stopping to inquire whether a god might not groan as

well as a man if it suited his convenience to do it; and satisfied that the idols were powerless to protect

themselves they went to work at once and pulled them downhacked them to piecesapplied the

The pagan priests were furious. And well they might be; they had held the fattest offices in the land, and now

they were beggared; they had been greatthey had stood above the chiefsand now they were vagabonds.

They raised a revolt; they scared a number of people into joining their standard, and Bekuokalani, an

In the first skirmish the idolaters triumphed over the royal army sent against them, and full of confidence they

resolved to march upon Kailua. The King sent an envoy to try and conciliate them, and came very near being

an envoy short by the operation; the savages not only refused to listen to him, but wanted to kill him. So the

King sent his men forth under Major General Kalaimoku and the two host met a Kuamoo. The battle was

long and fiercemen and women fighting side by side, as was the customand when the day was done the

rebels were flying in every direction in hopeless panic, and idolatry and the tabu were dead in the land!

The royalists marched gayly home to Kailua glorifying the new dispensation. "There is no power in the

gods," said they; "they are a vanity and a lie. The army with idols was weak; the army without idols was

The missionary ship arrived in safety shortly afterward, timed by providential exactness to meet the

At noon, we hired a Kanaka to take us down to the ancient ruins at Honaunan in his canoeprice two

The native canoe is an irresponsible looking contrivance. I cannot think of anything to liken it to but a boy's

sled runner hollowed out, and that does not quite convey the correct idea. It is about fifteen feet long, high

and pointed at both ends, is a foot and a half or two feet deep, and so narrow that if you wedged a fat man

into it you might not get him out again. It sits on top of the water like a duck, but it has an outrigger and does

not upset easily, if you keep still. This outrigger is formed of two long bent sticks like plow handles, which

project from one side, and to their outer ends is bound a curved beam composed of an extremely light wood,

which skims along the surface of the water and thus saves you from an upset on that side, while the

outrigger's weight is not so easily lifted as to make an upset on the other side a thing to be greatly feared.

Still, until one gets used to sitting perched upon this knifeblade, he is apt to reason within himself that it

would be more comfortable if there were just an outrigger or so on the other side also. I had the bow seat, and

Billings sat amidships and faced the Kanaka, who occupied the stern of the craft and did the paddling. With

the first stroke the trim shell of a thing shot out from the shore like an arrow. There was not much to see.

While we were on the shallow water of the reef, it was pastime to look down into the limpid depths at the

large bunches of branching coralthe unique shrubbery of the sea. We lost that, though, when we got out

into the dead blue water of the deep. But we had the picture of the surf, then, dashing angrily against the

There was interest in this beetling border, too, for it was honeycombed with quaint caves and arches and

tunnels, and had a rude semblance of the dilapidated architecture of ruined keeps and castles rising out of the

restless sea. When this novelty ceased to be a novelty, we turned our eyes shoreward and gazed at the long

mountain with its rich green forests stretching up into the curtaining clouds, and at the specks of houses in the

rearward distance and the diminished schooner riding sleepily at anchor. And when these grew tiresome we

dashed boldly into the midst of a school of huge, beastly porpoises engaged at their eternal game of arching

over a wave and disappearing, and then doing it over again and keeping it upalways circling over, in that

way, like so many well submerged wheels. But the porpoises wheeled themselves away, and then we were

thrown upon our own resources. It did not take many minutes to discover that the sun was blazing like a

bonfire, and that the weather was of a melting temperature. It had a drowsing effect, too. In one place we

came upon a large company of naked natives, of both sexes and all ages, amusing themselves with the

national pastime of surf bathing. Each heathen would paddle three or four hundred yards out to sea, (taking

a short board with him), then face the shore and wait for a particularly prodigious billow to come along; at the

right moment he would fling his board upon its foamy crest and himself upon the board, and here he would

come whizzing by like a bombshell! It did not seem that a lightning express train could shoot along at a more

hairlifting speed. I tried surfbathing once, subsequently, but made a failure of it. I got the board placed

right, and at the right moment, too; but missed the connection myself.The board struck the shore in three

quarters of a second, without any cargo, and I struck the bottom about the same time, with a couple of barrels

At the end of an hour, we had made the four miles, and landed on a level point of land, upon which was a

wide extent of old ruins, with many a tall cocoanut tree growing among them. Here was the ancient City of

Refugea vast inclosure, whose stone walls were twenty feet thick at the base, and fifteen feet high; an

oblong square, a thousand and forty feet one way and a fraction under seven hundred the other. Within this

inclosure, in early times, has been three rude temples; each two hundred and ten feet long by one hundred

In those days, if a man killed another anywhere on the island the relatives were privileged to take the

murderer's life; and then a chase for life and liberty beganthe outlawed criminal flying through pathless

forests and over mountain and plain, with his hopes fixed upon the protecting walls of the City of Refuge,

Sometimes the race was kept up to the very gates of the temple, and the panting pair sped through long files

of excited natives, who watched the contest with flashing eye and dilated nostril, encouraging the hunted

refugee with sharp, inspiriting ejaculations, and sending up a ringing shout of exultation when the saving

gates closed upon him and the cheated pursuer sank exhausted at the threshold. But sometimes the flying

criminal fell under the hand of the avenger at the very door, when one more brave stride, one more brief

second of time would have brought his feet upon the sacred ground and barred him against all harm. Where

did these isolated pagans get this idea of a City of Refugethis ancient Oriental custom?

This old sanctuary was sacred to alleven to rebels in arms and invading armies. Once within its walls, and

confession made to the priest and absolution obtained, the wretch with a price upon his head could go forth

without fear and without dangerhe was tabu, and to harm him was death. The routed rebels in the lost

battle for idolatry fled to this place to claim sanctuary, and many were thus saved.

Close to the corner of the great inclosure is a round structure of stone, some six or eight feet high, with a level

top about ten or twelve in diameter. This was the place of execution. A high palisade of cocoanut piles shut

out the cruel scenes from the vulgar multitude. Here criminals were killed, the flesh stripped from the bones

and burned, and the bones secreted in holes in the body of the structure. If the man had been guilty of a high

The walls of the temple are a study. The same food for speculation that is offered the visitor to the Pyramids

of Egypt he will find herethe mystery of how they were constructed by a people unacquainted with science

and mechanics. The natives have no invention of their own for hoisting heavy weights, they had no beasts of

burden, and they have never even shown any knowledge of the properties of the lever. Yet some of the lava

blocks quarried out, brought over rough, broken ground, and built into this wall, six or seven feet from the

ground, are of prodigious size and would weigh tons. How did they transport and how raise them?

Both the inner and outer surfaces of the walls present a smooth front and are very creditable specimens of

masonry. The blocks are of all manner of shapes and sizes, but yet are fitted together with the neatest

exactness. The gradual narrowing of the wall from the base upward is accurately preserved.

No cement was used, but the edifice is firm and compact and is capable of resisting storm and decay for

centuries. Who built this temple, and how was it built, and when, are mysteries that may never be unraveled.

Outside of these ancient walls lies a sort of coffinshaped stone eleven feet four inches long and three feet

square at the small end (it would weigh a few thousand pounds), which the high chief who held sway over

this district many centuries ago brought thither on his shoulder one day to use as a lounge! This circumstance

is established by the most reliable traditions. He used to lie down on it, in his indolent way, and keep an eye

on his subjects at work for him and see that there was no "soldiering" done. And no doubt there was not any

done to speak of, because he was a man of that sort of build that incites to attention to business on the part of

He was fourteen or fifteen feet high. When he stretched himself at full length on his lounge, his legs hung

down over the end, and when he snored he woke the dead. These facts are all attested by irrefragable

On the other side of the temple is a monstrous seventon rock, eleven feet long, seven feet wide and three

feet thick. It is raised a foot or a foot and a half above the ground, and rests upon half a dozen little stony

pedestals. The same old fourteenfooter brought it down from the mountain, merely for fun (he had his own

notions about fun), and propped it up as we find it now and as others may find it a century hence, for it would

take a score of horses to budge it from its position. They say that fifty or sixty years ago the proud Queen

Kaahumanu used to fly to this rock for safety, whenever she had been making trouble with her fierce

husband, and hide under it until his wrath was appeased. But these Kanakas will lie, and this statement is one

of their ablest effortsfor Kaahumanu was six feet highshe was bulkyshe was built like an oxand

she could no more have squeezed herself under that rock than she could have passed between the cylinders of

a sugar mill. What could she gain by it, even if she succeeded? To be chased and abused by a savage husband

could not be otherwise than humiliating to her high spirit, yet it could never make her feel so flat as an hour's

We walked a mile over a raised macadamized road of uniform width; a road paved with flat stones and

exhibiting in its every detail a considerable degree of engineering skill. Some say that that wise old pagan,

Kamehameha I planned and built it, but others say it was built so long before his time that the knowledge of

who constructed it has passed out of the traditions. In either case, however, as the handiwork of an untaught

and degraded race it is a thing of pleasing interest. The stones are worn and smooth, and pushed apart in

places, so that the road has the exact appearance of those ancient paved highways leading out of Rome which

The object of our tramp was to visit a great natural curiosity at the base of the foothillsa congealed cascade

of lava. Some old forgotten volcanic eruption sent its broad river of fire down the mountain side here, and it

poured down in a great torrent from an overhanging bluff some fifty feet high to the ground below. The

flaming torrent cooled in the winds from the sea, and remains there today, all seamed, and frothed and

rippled a petrified Niagara. It is very picturesque, and withal so natural that one might almost imagine it still

flowed. A smaller stream trickled over the cliff and built up an isolated pyramid about thirty feet high, which

has the semblance of a mass of large gnarled and knotted vines and roots and stems intricately twisted and

We passed in behind the cascade and the pyramid, and found the bluff pierced by several cavernous tunnels,

Two of these winding tunnels stand as proof of Nature's mining abilities. Their floors are level, they are seven

feet wide, and their roofs are gently arched. Their height is not uniform, however. We passed through one a

hundred feet long, which leads through a spur of the hill and opens out well up in the sheer wall of a precipice

whose foot rests in the waves of the sea. It is a commodious tunnel, except that there are occasional places in

it where one must stoop to pass under. The roof is lava, of course, and is thickly studded with little

lavapointed icicles an inch long, which hardened as they dripped. They project as closely together as the

iron teeth of a cornsheller, and if one will stand up straight and walk any distance there, he can get his hair

We got back to the schooner in good time, and then sailed down to Kau, where we disembarked and took

final leave of the vessel. Next day we bought horses and bent our way over the summerclad

mountainterraces, toward the great volcano of Kilauea (Kelowwayah). We made nearly a two days'

journey of it, but that was on account of laziness. Toward sunset on the second day, we reached an elevation

of some four thousand feet above sea level, and as we picked our careful way through billowy wastes of lava

long generations ago stricken dead and cold in the climax of its tossing fury, we began to come upon signs of

the near presence of the volcanosigns in the nature of ragged fissures that discharged jets of sulphurous

vapor into the air, hot from the molten ocean down in the bowels of the mountain.

Shortly the crater came into view. I have seen Vesuvius since, but it was a mere toy, a child's volcano, a

soupkettle, compared to this. Mount Vesuvius is a shapely cone thirtysix hundred feet high; its crater an

inverted cone only three hundred feet deep, and not more than a thousand feet in diameter, if as much as that;

its fires meagre, modest, and docile.But here was a vast, perpendicular, walled cellar, nine hundred feet

deep in some places, thirteen hundred in others, level floored, and ten miles in circumference! Here was a

yawning pit upon whose floor the armies of Russia could camp, and have room to spare.

Perched upon the edge of the crater, at the opposite end from where we stood, was a small lookout

housesay three miles away. It assisted us, by comparison, to comprehend and appreciate the great depth of

the basin it looked like a tiny martinbox clinging at the eaves of a cathedral. After some little time spent

By the path it is half a mile from the Volcano House to the lookout house. After a hearty supper we waited

until it was thoroughly dark and then started to the crater. The first glance in that direction revealed a scene of

wild beauty. There was a heavy fog over the crater and it was splendidly illuminated by the glare from the

fires below. The illumination was two miles wide and a mile high, perhaps; and if you ever, on a dark night

and at a distance beheld the light from thirty or forty blocks of distant buildings all on fire at once, reflected

strongly against overhanging clouds, you can form a fair idea of what this looked like.

A colossal column of cloud towered to a great height in the air immediately above the crater, and the outer

swell of every one of its vast folds was dyed with a rich crimson luster, which was subdued to a pale rose tint

in the depressions between. It glowed like a muffled torch and stretched upward to a dizzy height toward the

zenith. I thought it just possible that its like had not been seen since the children of Israel wandered on their

long march through the desert so many centuries ago over a path illuminated by the mysterious "pillar of

fire." And I was sure that I now had a vivid conception of what the majestic "pillar of fire" was like, which

Arrived at the little thatched lookout house, we rested our elbows on the railing in front and looked abroad

over the wide crater and down over the sheer precipice at the seething fires beneath us. The view was a

startling improvement on my daylight experience. I turned to see the effect on the balance of the company

and found the reddestfaced set of men I almost ever saw. In the strong light every countenance glowed like

redhot iron, every shoulder was suffused with crimson and shaded rearward into dingy, shapeless obscurity!

The place below looked like the infernal regions and these men like halfcooled devils just come up on a

I turned my eyes upon the volcano again. The "cellar" was tolerably well lighted up. For a mile and a half in

front of us and half a mile on either side, the floor of the abyss was magnificently illuminated; beyond these

limits the mists hung down their gauzy curtains and cast a deceptive gloom over all that made the twinkling

fires in the remote corners of the crater seem countless leagues removedmade them seem like the

campfires of a great army far away. Here was room for the imagination to work! You could imagine those

lights the width of a continent awayand that hidden under the intervening darkness were hills, and winding

rivers, and weary wastes of plain and desertand even then the tremendous vista stretched on, and on, and

on!to the fires and far beyond! You could not compass itit was the idea of eternity made tangibleand

The greater part of the vast floor of the desert under us was as black as ink, and apparently smooth and level;

but over a mile square of it was ringed and streaked and striped with a thousand branching streams of liquid

and gorgeously brilliant fire! It looked like a colossal railroad map of the State of Massachusetts done in

chain lightning on a midnight sky. Imagine itimagine a coalblack sky shivered into a tangled net work

Here and there were gleaming holes a hundred feet in diameter, broken in the dark crust, and in them the

melted lavathe color a dazzling white just tinged with yellowwas boiling and surging furiously; and

from these holes branched numberless bright torrents in many directions, like the spokes of a wheel, and kept

a tolerably straight course for a while and then swept round in huge rainbow curves, or made a long

succession of sharp wormfence angles, which looked precisely like the fiercest jagged lightning. These

streams met other streams, and they mingled with and crossed and recrossed each other in every conceivable

direction, like skate tracks on a popular skating ground. Sometimes streams twenty or thirty feet wide flowed

from the holes to some distance without dividing and through the operaglasses we could see that they ran

down small, steep hills and were genuine cataracts of fire, white at their source, but soon cooling and turning

to the richest red, grained with alternate lines of black and gold. Every now and then masses of the dark crust

broke away and floated slowly down these streams like rafts down a river. Occasionally the molten lava

flowing under the superincumbent crust broke throughsplit a dazzling streak, from five hundred to a

thousand feet long, like a sudden flash of lightning, and then acre after acre of the cold lava parted into

fragments, turned up edgewise like cakes of ice when a great river breaks up, plunged downward and were

swallowed in the crimson cauldron. Then the wide expanse of the "thaw" maintained a ruddy glow for a

while, but shortly cooled and became black and level again. During a "thaw," every dismembered cake was

marked by a glittering white border which was superbly shaded inward by aurora borealis rays, which were a

flaming yellow where they joined the white border, and from thence toward their points tapered into glowing

crimson, then into a rich, pale carmine, and finally into a faint blush that held its own a moment and then

dimmed and turned black. Some of the streams preferred to mingle together in a tangle of fantastic circles,

and then they looked something like the confusion of ropes one sees on a ship's deck when she has just taken

Through the glasses, the little fountains scattered about looked very beautiful. They boiled, and coughed, and

spluttered, and discharged sprays of stringy red fireof about the consistency of mush, for instancefrom

ten to fifteen feet into the air, along with a shower of brilliant white sparksa quaint and unnatural mingling

We had circles and serpents and streaks of lightning all twined and wreathed and tied together, without a

break throughout an area more than a mile square (that amount of ground was covered, though it was not

strictly "square"), and it was with a feeling of placid exultation that we reflected that many years had elapsed

since any visitor had seen such a splendid displaysince any visitor had seen anything more than the now

snubbed and insignificant "North" and "South" lakes in action. We had been reading old files of Hawaiian

I could see the North Lake lying out on the black floor away off in the outer edge of our panorama, and

knitted to it by a webwork of lava streams. In its individual capacity it looked very little more respectable

than a schoolhouse on fire. True, it was about nine hundred feet long and two or three hundred wide, but then,

under the present circumstances, it necessarily appeared rather insignificant, and besides it was so distant

I forgot to say that the noise made by the bubbling lava is not great, heard as we heard it from our lofty perch.

It makes three distinct soundsa rushing, a hissing, and a coughing or puffing sound; and if you stand on the

brink and close your eyes it is no trick at all to imagine that you are sweeping down a river on a large

lowpressure steamer, and that you hear the hissing of the steam about her boilers, the puffing from her

escapepipes and the churning rush of the water abaft her wheels. The smell of sulphur is strong, but not

We left the lookout house at ten o'clock in a half cooked condition, because of the heat from Pele's furnaces,

The next night was appointed for a visit to the bottom of the crater, for we desired to traverse its floor and see

the "North Lake" (of fire) which lay two miles away, toward the further wall. After dark half a dozen of us set

out, with lanterns and native guides, and climbed down a crazy, thousandfoot pathway in a crevice fractured

The irruption of the previous evening had spent its force and the floor looked black and cold; but when we

ran out upon it we found it hot yet, to the feet, and it was likewise riven with crevices which revealed the

underlying fires gleaming vindictively. A neighboring cauldron was threatening to overflow, and this added

to the dubiousness of the situation. So the native guides refused to continue the venture, and then every body

deserted except a stranger named Marlette. He said he had been in the crater a dozen times in daylight and

believed he could find his way through it at night. He thought that a run of three hundred yards would carry

us over the hottest part of the floor and leave us our shoesoles. His pluck gave me backbone. We took one

lantern and instructed the guides to hang the other to the roof of the lookout house to serve as a beacon for

us in case we got lost, and then the party started back up the precipice and Marlette and I made our run. We

skipped over the hot floor and over the red crevices with brisk dispatch and reached the cold lava safe but

with pretty warm feet. Then we took things leisurely and comfortably, jumping tolerably wide and probably

bottomless chasms, and threading our way through picturesque lava upheavals with considerable confidence.

When we got fairly away from the cauldrons of boiling fire, we seemed to be in a gloomy desert, and a

suffocatingly dark one, surrounded by dim walls that seemed to tower to the sky. The only cheerful objects

By and by Marlette shouted "Stop!" I never stopped quicker in my life. I asked what the matter was. He said

we were out of the path. He said we must not try to go on till we found it again, for we were surrounded with

beds of rotten lava through which we could easily break and plunge down a thousand feet. I thought eight

hundred would answer for me, and was about to say so when Marlette partly proved his statement by

He got out and we hunted for the path with the lantern. He said there was only one path and that it was but

vaguely defined. We could not find it. The lava surface was all alike in the lantern light. But he was an

ingenious man. He said it was not the lantern that had informed him that we were out of the path, but his feet.

He had noticed a crisp grinding of fine lavaneedles under his feet, and some instinct reminded him that in

the path these were all worn away. So he put the lantern behind him, and began to search with his boots

instead of his eyes. It was good sagacity. The first time his foot touched a surface that did not grind under it

he announced that the trail was found again; and after that we kept up a sharp listening for the rasping sound

It was a long tramp, but an exciting one. We reached the North Lake between ten and eleven o'clock, and sat

down on a huge overhanging lava shelf, tired but satisfied. The spectacle presented was worth coming

double the distance to see. Under us, and stretching away before us, was a heaving sea of molten fire of

seemingly limitless extent. The glare from it was so blinding that it was some time before we could bear to

It was like gazing at the sun at noonday, except that the glare was not quite so white. At unequal distances

all around the shores of the lake were nearly whitehot chimneys or hollow drums of lava, four or five feet

high, and up through them were bursting gorgeous sprays of lavagouts and gem spangles, some white, some

red and some goldena ceaseless bombardment, and one that fascinated the eye with its unapproachable

splendor. The mere distant jets, sparkling up through an intervening gossamer veil of vapor, seemed miles

away; and the further the curving ranks of fiery fountains receded, the more fairylike and beautiful they

Now and then the surging bosom of the lake under our noses would calm down ominously and seem to be

gathering strength for an enterprise; and then all of a sudden a red dome of lava of the bulk of an ordinary

dwelling would heave itself aloft like an escaping balloon, then burst asunder, and out of its heart would flit a

palegreen film of vapor, and float upward and vanish in the darknessa released soul soaring homeward

from captivity with the damned, no doubt. The crashing plunge of the ruined dome into the lake again would

send a world of seething billows lashing against the shores and shaking the foundations of our perch. By and

by, a loosened mass of the hanging shelf we sat on tumbled into the lake, jarring the surroundings like an

earthquake and delivering a suggestion that may have been intended for a hint, and may not. We did not wait

We got lost again on our way back, and were more than an hour hunting for the path. We were where we

could see the beacon lantern at the lookout house at the time, but thought it was a star and paid no attention

to it. We reached the hotel at two o'clock in the morning pretty well fagged out.

Kilauea never overflows its vast crater, but bursts a passage for its lava through the mountain side when relief

is necessary, and then the destruction is fearful. About 1840 it rent its overburdened stomach and sent a broad

river of fire careering down to the sea, which swept away forests, huts, plantations and every thing else that

lay in its path. The stream was five miles broad, in places, and two hundred feet deep, and the distance it

traveled was forty miles. It tore up and bore away acrepatches of land on its bosom like raftsrocks, trees

and all intact. At night the red glare was visible a hundred miles at sea; and at a distance of forty miles fine

print could be read at midnight. The atmosphere was poisoned with sulphurous vapors and choked with

falling ashes, pumice stones and cinders; countless columns of smoke rose up and blended together in a

tumbled canopy that hid the heavens and glowed with a ruddy flush reflected from the fires below; here and

there jets of lava sprung hundreds of feet into the air and burst into rocketsprays that returned to earth in a

crimson rain; and all the while the laboring mountain shook with Nature's great palsy and voiced its distress

Fishes were killed for twenty miles along the shore, where the lava entered the sea. The earthquakes caused

some loss of human life, and a prodigious tidal wave swept inland, carrying every thing before it and

drowning a number of natives. The devastation consummated along the route traversed by the river of lava

was complete and incalculable. Only a Pompeii and a Herculaneum were needed at the foot of Kilauea to

We rode horseback all around the island of Hawaii (the crooked road making the distance two hundred

miles), and enjoyed the journey very much. We were more than a week making the trip, because our Kanaka

horses would not go by a house or a hut without stoppingwhip and spur could not alter their minds about

it, and so we finally found that it economized time to let them have their way. Upon inquiry the mystery was

explained: the natives are such thoroughgoing gossips that they never pass a house without stopping to swap

news, and consequently their horses learn to regard that sort of thing as an essential part of the whole duty of

man, and his salvation not to be compassed without it. However, at a former crisis of my life I had once taken

an aristocratic young lady out driving, behind a horse that had just retired from a long and honorable career as

the moving impulse of a milk wagon, and so this present experience awoke a reminiscent sadness in me in

place of the exasperation more natural to the occasion. I remembered how helpless I was that day, and how

humiliated; how ashamed I was of having intimated to the girl that I had always owned the horse and was

accustomed to grandeur; how hard I tried to appear easy, and even vivacious, under suffering that was

consuming my vitals; how placidly and maliciously the girl smiled, and kept on smiling, while my hot

blushes baked themselves into a permanent bloodpudding in my face; how the horse ambled from one side

of the street to the other and waited complacently before every third house two minutes and a quarter while I

belabored his back and reviled him in my heart; how I tried to keep him from turning corners and failed; how

I moved heaven and earth to get him out of town, and did not succeed; how he traversed the entire settlement

and delivered imaginary milk at a hundred and sixtytwo different domiciles, and how he finally brought up

at a dairy depot and refused to budge further, thus rounding and completing the revealment of what the

plebeian service of his life had been; how, in eloquent silence, I walked the girl home, and how, when I took

leave of her, her parting remark scorched my soul and appeared to blister me all over: she said that my horse

was a fine, capable animal, and I must have taken great comfort in him in my timebut that if I would take

along some milktickets next time, and appear to deliver them at the various halting places, it might expedite

In one place in the island of Hawaii, we saw a laced and ruffled cataract of limpid water leaping from a sheer

precipice fifteen hundred feet high; but that sort of scenery finds its stanchest ally in the arithmetic rather than

in spectacular effect. If one desires to be so stirred by a poem of Nature wrought in the happily commingled

graces of picturesque rocks, glimpsed distances, foliage, color, shifting lights and shadows, and failing water,

that the tears almost come into his eyes so potent is the charm exerted, he need not go away from America to

enjoy such an experience. The Rainbow Fall, in Watkins Glen (N.Y.), on the Erie railway, is an example. It

would recede into pitiable insignificance if the callous tourist drew on arithmetic on it; but left to compete for

the honors simply on scenic grace and beautythe grand, the august and the sublime being barred the

In one locality, on our journey, we saw some horses that had been born and reared on top of the mountains,

above the range of running water, and consequently they had never drank that fluid in their lives, but had

been always accustomed to quenching their thirst by eating dewladen or showerwetted leaves. And now it

was destructively funny to see them sniff suspiciously at a pail of water, and then put in their noses and try to

take a bite out of the fluid, as if it were a solid. Finding it liquid, they would snatch away their heads and fall

to trembling, snorting and showing other evidences of fright. When they became convinced at last that the

water was friendly and harmless, they thrust in their noses up to their eyes, brought out a mouthful of water,

and proceeded to chew it complacently. We saw a man coax, kick and spur one of them five or ten minutes

before he could make it cross a running stream. It spread its nostrils, distended its eyes and trembled all over,

just as horses customarily do in the presence of a serpentand for aught I know it thought the crawling

In due course of time our journey came to an end at Kawaehae (usually pronounced Toahiand before we

find fault with this elaborate orthographical method of arriving at such an unostentatious result, let us lop off

the ugh from our word "though"). I made this horseback trip on a mule. I paid ten dollars for him at Kau

(Kahoo), added four to get him shod, rode him two hundred miles, and then sold him for fifteen dollars. I

mark the circumstance with a white stone (in the absence of chalkfor I never saw a white stone that a body

could mark anything with, though out of respect for the ancients I have tried it often enough); for up to that

day and date it was the first strictly commercial transaction I had ever entered into, and come out winner. We

returned to Honolulu, and from thence sailed to the island of Maui, and spent several weeks there very

pleasantly. I still remember, with a sense of indolent luxury, a picnicing excursion up a romantic gorge there,

called the Iao Valley. The trail lay along the edge of a brawling stream in the bottom of the gorgea shady

route, for it was well roofed with the verdant domes of forest trees. Through openings in the foliage we

glimpsed picturesque scenery that revealed ceaseless changes and new charms with every step of our

progress. Perpendicular walls from one to three thousand feet high guarded the way, and were sumptuously

plumed with varied foliage, in places, and in places swathed in waving ferns. Passing shreds of cloud trailed

their shadows across these shining fronts, mottling them with blots; billowy masses of white vapor hid the

turreted summits, and far above the vapor swelled a background of gleaming green crags and cones that came

and went, through the veiling mists, like islands drifting in a fog; sometimes the cloudy curtain descended till

half the canon wall was hidden, then shredded gradually away till only airy glimpses of the ferny front

appeared through itthen swept aloft and left it glorified in the sun again. Now and then, as our position

changed, rocky bastions swung out from the wall, a mimic ruin of castellated ramparts and crumbling towers

clothed with mosses and hung with garlands of swaying vines, and as we moved on they swung back again

and hid themselves once more in the foliage. Presently a verdureclad needle of stone, a thousand feet high,

stepped out from behind a corner, and mounted guard over the mysteries of the valley. It seemed to me that if

Captain Cook needed a monument, here was one ready madetherefore, why not put up his sign here, and

But the chief pride of Maui is her dead volcano of Haleakalawhich means, translated, "the house of the

sun." We climbed a thousand feet up the side of this isolated colossus one afternoon; then camped, and next

day climbed the remaining nine thousand feet, and anchored on the summit, where we built a fire and froze

and roasted by turns, all night. With the first pallor of dawn we got up and saw things that were new to us.

Mounted on a commanding pinnacle, we watched Nature work her silent wonders. The sea was spread abroad

on every hand, its tumbled surface seeming only wrinkled and dimpled in the distance. A broad valley below

appeared like an ample checkerboard, its velvety green sugar plantations alternating with dun squares of

barrenness and groves of trees diminished to mossy tufts. Beyond the valley were mountains picturesquely

grouped together; but bear in mind, we fancied that we were looking up at these thingsnot down. We

seemed to sit in the bottom of a symmetrical bowl ten thousand feet deep, with the valley and the skirting sea

lifted away into the sky above us! It was curious; and not only curious, but aggravating; for it was having our

trouble all for nothing, to climb ten thousand feet toward heaven and then have to look up at our scenery.

However, we had to be content with it and make the best of it; for, all we could do we could not coax our

landscape down out of the clouds. Formerly, when I had read an article in which Poe treated of this singular

fraud perpetrated upon the eye by isolated great altitudes, I had looked upon the matter as an invention of his

I have spoken of the outside viewbut we had an inside one, too. That was the yawning dead crater, into

which we now and then tumbled rocks, half as large as a barrel, from our perch, and saw them go careering

down the almost perpendicular sides, bounding three hundred feet at a jump; kicking up castclouds

wherever they struck; diminishing to our view as they sped farther into distance; growing invisible, finally,

and only betraying their course by faint little puffs of dust; and coming to a halt at last in the bottom of the

abyss, two thousand five hundred feet down from where they started! It was magnificent sport. We wore

The crater of Vesuvius, as I have before remarked, is a modest pit about a thousand feet deep and three

thousand in circumference; that of Kilauea is somewhat deeper, and ten miles in circumference. But what are

either of them compared to the vacant stomach of Haleakala? I will not offer any figures of my own, but give

official onesthose of Commander Wilkes, U.S.N., who surveyed it and testifies that it is twentyseven

miles in circumference! If it had a level bottom it would make a fine site for a city like London. It must have

afforded a spectacle worth contemplating in the old days when its furnaces gave full rein to their anger.

Presently vagrant white clouds came drifting along, high over the sea and the valley; then they came in

couples and groups; then in imposing squadrons; gradually joining their forces, they banked themselves

solidly together, a thousand feet under us, and totally shut out land and ocean not a vestige of anything was

left in view but just a little of the rim of the crater, circling away from the pinnacle whereon we sat (for a

ghostly procession of wanderers from the filmy hosts without had drifted through a chasm in the crater wall

and filed round and round, and gathered and sunk and blended together till the abyss was stored to the brim

with a fleecy fog). Thus banked, motion ceased, and silence reigned. Clear to the horizon, league on league,

the snowy floor stretched without a breaknot level, but in rounded folds, with shallow creases between,

and with here and there stately piles of vapory architecture lifting themselves aloft out of the common

plainsome near at hand, some in the middle distances, and others relieving the monotony of the remote

solitudes. There was little conversation, for the impressive scene overawed speech. I felt like the Last Man,

neglected of the judgment, and left pinnacled in midheaven, a forgotten relic of a vanished world.

While the hush yet brooded, the messengers of the coming resurrection appeared in the East. A growing

warmth suffused the horizon, and soon the sun emerged and looked out over the cloudwaste, flinging bars

of ruddy light across it, staining its folds and billowcaps with blushes, purpling the shaded troughs between,

and glorifying the massy vapor palaces and cathedrals with a wasteful splendor of all blendings and

It was the sublimest spectacle I ever witnessed, and I think the memory of it will remain with me always.

I stumbled upon one curious character in the Island of Mani. He became a sore annoyance to me in the course

of time. My first glimpse of him was in a sort of public room in the town of Lahaina. He occupied a chair at

the opposite side of the apartment, and sat eyeing our party with interest for some minutes, and listening as

critically to what we were saying as if he fancied we were talking to him and expecting him to reply. I

thought it very sociable in a stranger. Presently, in the course of conversation, I made a statement bearing

upon the subject under discussionand I made it with due modesty, for there was nothing extraordinary

about it, and it was only put forth in illustration of a point at issue. I had barely finished when this person

"Oh, that was certainly remarkable, after a fashion, but you ought to have seen my chimneyyou ought to

have seen my chimney, sir! Smoke! I wish I may hang ifMr. Jones, you remember that chimneyyou

must remember that chimney! No, noI recollect, now, you warn't living on this side of the island then. But

I am telling you nothing but the truth, and I wish I may never draw another breath if that chimney didn't

smoke so that the smoke actually got caked in it and I had to dig it out with a pickaxe! You may smile,

gentlemen, but the High Sheriff's got a hunk of it which I dug out before his eyes, and so it's perfectly easy

The interruption broke up the conversation, which had already begun to lag, and we presently hired some

natives and an outrigger canoe or two, and went out to overlook a grand surfbathing contest.

Two weeks after this, while talking in a company, I looked up and detected this same man boring through and

through me with his intense eye, and noted again his twitching muscles and his feverish anxiety to speak. The

"Beg your pardon, sir, beg your pardon, but it can only be considered remarkable when brought into strong

outline by isolation. Sir, contrasted with a circumstance which occurred in my own experience, it instantly

becomes commonplace. No, not thatfor I will not speak so discourteously of any experience in the career

of a stranger and a gentlemanbut I am obliged to say that you could not, and you would not ever again

refer to this tree as a large one, if you could behold, as I have, the great Yakmatack tree, in the island of

Ounaska, sea of Kamtchatkaa tree, sir, not one inch less than four hundred and fifteen feet in solid

diameter!and I wish I may die in a minute if it isn't so! Oh, you needn't look so questioning, gentlemen;

here's old Cap Saltmarsh can say whether I know what I'm talking about or not. I showed him the tree."

Captain Saltmarsh"Come, now, cat your anchor, ladyou're heaving too taut. You promised to show me

that stunner, and I walked more than eleven mile with you through the cussedest jungle I ever see, a hunting

for it; but the tree you showed me finally warn't as big around as a beer cask, and you know that your own

"Hear the man talk! Of course the tree was reduced that way, but didn't I explain it? Answer me, didn't I?

Didn't I say I wished you could have seen it when I first saw it? When you got up on your ear and called me

names, and said I had brought you eleven miles to look at a sapling, didn't I explain to you that all the

whaleships in the North Seas had been wooding off of it for more than twentyseven years? And did you

s'pose the tree could last forever, confound it? I don't see why you want to keep back things that way, and

Somehow this man's presence made me uncomfortable, and I was glad when a native arrived at that moment

to say that Muckawow, the most companionable and luxurious among the rude warchiefs of the Islands,

desired us to come over and help him enjoy a missionary whom he had found trespassing on his grounds.

I think it was about ten days afterward that, as I finished a statement I was making for the instruction of a

group of friends and acquaintances, and which made no pretence of being extraordinary, a familiar voice

"But, my dear sir, there was nothing remarkable about that horse, or the circumstance eithernothing in the

world! I mean no sort of offence when I say it, sir, but you really do not know anything whatever about

speed. Bless your heart, if you could only have seen my mare Margaretta; there was a beast!there was

lightning for you! Trot! Trot is no name for itshe flew! How she could whirl a buggy along! I started her

out once, sirColonel Bilgewater, you recollect that animal perfectly well I started her out about thirty or

thirtyfive yards ahead of the awfullest storm I ever saw in my life, and it chased us upwards of eighteen

miles! It did, by the everlasting hills! And I'm telling you nothing but the unvarnished truth when I say that

not one single drop of rain fell on menot a single drop, sir! And I swear to it! But my dog was

For a week or two I stayed mostly within doors, for I seemed to meet this person everywhere, and he had

become utterly hateful to me. But one evening I dropped in on Captain Perkins and his friends, and we had a

sociable time. About ten o'clock I chanced to be talking about a merchant friend of mine, and without really

intending it, the remark slipped out that he was a little mean and parsimonious about paying his workmen.

Instantly, through the steam of a hot whiskey punch on the opposite side of the room, a remembered voice

"Oh, my dear sir, really you expose yourself when you parade that as a surprising circumstance. Bless your

heart and hide, you are ignorant of the very A B C of meanness! ignorant as the unborn babe! ignorant as

unborn twins! You don't know anything about it! It is pitiable to see you, sir, a wellspoken and

prepossessing stranger, making such an enormous powwow here about a subject concerning which your

ignorance is perfectly humiliating! Look me in the eye, if you please; look me in the eye. John James Godfrey

was the son of poor but honest parents in the State of Mississippiboyhood friend of minebosom

comrade in later years. Heaven rest his noble spirit, he is gone from us now. John James Godfrey was hired

by the Hayblossom Mining Company in California to do some blasting for themthe "Incorporated

Well, one day he drilled a hole about four feet deep and put in an awful blast of powder, and was standing

over it ramming it down with an iron crowbar about nine foot long, when the cussed thing struck a spark and

fired the powder, and scat! away John Godfrey whizzed like a skyrocket, him and his crowbar! Well, sir, he

kept on going up in the air higher and higher, till he didn't look any bigger than a boyand he kept going on

up higher and higher, till he didn't look any bigger than a dolland he kept on going up higher and higher,

till he didn't look any bigger than a little small beeand then he went out of sight! Presently he came in sight

again, looking like a little small beeand he came along down further and further, till he looked as big as a

doll againand down further and further, till he was as big as a boy againand further and further, till he

was a fullsized man once more; and then him and his crowbar came a whizzing down and lit right exactly

in the same old tracks and went to rramming down, and rramming down, and rramming down again, just

the same as if nothing had happened! Now do you know, that poor cuss warn't gone only sixteen minutes, and

I said I had the headache, and so excused myself and went home. And on my diary I entered "another night

spoiled" by this offensive loafer. And a fervent curse was set down with it to keep the item company. And the

The line of points represents an interval of years. At the end of which time the opinion hazarded in that last

sentence came to be gratifyingly and remarkably endorsed, and by wholly disinterested persons. The man

Markiss was found one morning hanging to a beam of his own bedroom (the doors and windows securely

fastened on the inside), dead; and on his breast was pinned a paper in his own handwriting begging his

friends to suspect no innocent person of having any thing to do with his death, for that it was the work of his

own hands entirely. Yet the jury brought in the astounding verdict that deceased came to his death "by the

hands of some person or persons unknown!" They explained that the perfectly undeviating consistency of

Markiss's character for thirty years towered aloft as colossal and indestructible testimony, that whatever

statement he chose to make was entitled to instant and unquestioning acceptance as a lie. And they

furthermore stated their belief that he was not dead, and instanced the strong circumstantial evidence of his

own word that he was deadand beseeched the coroner to delay the funeral as long as possible, which was

done. And so in the tropical climate of Lahaina the coffin stood open for seven days, and then even the loyal

jury gave him up. But they sat on him again, and changed their verdict to "suicide induced by mental

aberration"because, said they, with penetration, "he said he was dead, and he was dead; and would he have

After half a year's luxurious vagrancy in the islands, I took shipping in a sailing vessel, and regretfully

returned to San Franciscoa voyage in every way delightful, but without an incident: unless lying two long

weeks in a dead calm, eighteen hundred miles from the nearest land, may rank as an incident. Schools of

whales grew so tame that day after day they played about the ship among the porpoises and the sharks

without the least apparent fear of us, and we pelted them with empty bottles for lack of better sport.

Twentyfour hours afterward these bottles would be still lying on the glassy water under our noses, showing

that the ship had not moved out of her place in all that time. The calm was absolutely breathless, and the

surface of the sea absolutely without a wrinkle. For a whole day and part of a night we lay so close to another

ship that had drifted to our vicinity, that we carried on conversations with her passengers, introduced each

other by name, and became pretty intimately acquainted with people we had never heard of before, and have

never heard of since. This was the only vessel we saw during the whole lonely voyage. We had fifteen

passengers, and to show how hard pressed they were at last for occupation and amusement, I will mention

that the gentlemen gave a good part of their time every day, during the calm, to trying to sit on an empty

champagne bottle (lying on its side), and thread a needle without touching their heels to the deck, or falling

over; and the ladies sat in the shade of the mainsail, and watched the enterprise with absorbing interest. We

were at sea five Sundays; and yet, but for the almanac, we never would have known but that all the other days

I was home again, in San Francisco, without means and without employment. I tortured my brain for a saving

scheme of some kind, and at last a public lecture occurred to me! I sat down and wrote one, in a fever of

hopeful anticipation. I showed it to several friends, but they all shook their heads. They said nobody would

They said that as I had never spoken in public, I would break down in the delivery, anyhow. I was

disconsolate now. But at last an editor slapped me on the back and told me to "go ahead." He said, "Take the

largest house in town, and charge a dollar a ticket." The audacity of the proposition was charming; it seemed

fraught with practical worldly wisdom, however. The proprietor of the several theatres endorsed the advice,

and said I might have his handsome new operahouse at half price fifty dollars. In sheer desperation I took

iton credit, for sufficient reasons. In three days I did a hundred and fifty dollars' worth of printing and

advertising, and was the most distressed and frightened creature on the Pacific coast. I could not sleepwho

could, under such circumstances? For other people there was facetiousness in the last line of my posters, but

That line has done good service since. Showmen have borrowed it frequently. I have even seen it appended to

a newspaper advertisement reminding school pupils in vacation what time next term would begin. As those

three days of suspense dragged by, I grew more and more unhappy. I had sold two hundred tickets among my

personal friends, but I feared they might not come. My lecture, which had seemed "humorous" to me, at first,

grew steadily more and more dreary, till not a vestige of fun seemed left, and I grieved that I could not bring

a coffin on the stage and turn the thing into a funeral. I was so panicstricken, at last, that I went to three old

"This thing is going to be a failure; the jokes in it are so dim that nobody will ever see them; I would like to

They said they would. Then I went to the wife of a popular citizen, and said that if she was willing to do me a

very great kindness, I would be glad if she and her husband would sit prominently in the lefthand stage

box, where the whole house could see them. I explained that I should need help, and would turn toward her

and smile, as a signal, when I had been delivered of an obscure joke"and then," I added, "don't wait to

She promised. Down the street I met a man I never had seen before. He had been drinking, and was beaming

"My name's Sawyer. You don't know me, but that don't matter. I haven't got a cent, but if you knew how bad

"Is your laugh hung on a hairtrigger?that is, is it critical, or can you get it off easy?"

My drawling infirmity of speech so affected him that he laughed a specimen or two that struck me as being

about the article I wanted, and I gave him a ticket, and appointed him to sit in the second circle, in the centre,

and be responsible for that division of the house. I gave him minute instructions about how to detect

indistinct jokes, and then went away, and left him chuckling placidly over the novelty of the idea.

I ate nothing on the last of the three eventful daysI only suffered. I had advertised that on this third day the

boxoffice would be opened for the sale of reserved seats. I crept down to the theater at four in the afternoon

to see if any sales had been made. The ticket seller was gone, the boxoffice was locked up. I had to swallow

suddenly, or my heart would have got out. "No sales," I said to myself; "I might have known it." I thought of

suicide, pretended illness, flight. I thought of these things in earnest, for I was very miserable and scared. But

of course I had to drive them away, and prepare to meet my fate. I could not wait for halfpast sevenI

wanted to face the horror, and end it the feeling of many a man doomed to hang, no doubt. I went down

back streets at six o'clock, and entered the theatre by the back door. I stumbled my way in the dark among the

ranks of canvas scenery, and stood on the stage. The house was gloomy and silent, and its emptiness

depressing. I went into the dark among the scenes again, and for an hour and a half gave myself up to the

horrors, wholly unconscious of everything else. Then I heard a murmur; it rose higher and higher, and ended

in a crash, mingled with cheers. It made my hair raise, it was so close to me, and so loud.

There was a pause, and then another; presently came a third, and before I well knew what I was about, I was

in the middle of the stage, staring at a sea of faces, bewildered by the fierce glare of the lights, and quaking in

every limb with a terror that seemed like to take my life away. The house was full, aisles and all!

The tummult in my heart and brain and legs continued a full minute before I could gain any command over

myself. Then I recognized the charity and the friendliness in the faces before me, and little by little my fright

melted away, and I began to talk Within three or four minutes I was comfortable, and even content. My three

chief allies, with three auxiliaries, were on hand, in the parquette, all sitting together, all armed with

bludgeons, and all ready to make an onslaught upon the feeblest joke that might show its head. And whenever

a joke did fall, their bludgeons came down and their faces seemed to split from ear to ear.

Sawyer, whose hearty countenance was seen looming redly in the centre of the second circle, took it up, and

the house was carried handsomely. Inferior jokes never fared so royally before. Presently I delivered a bit of

serious matter with impressive unction (it was my pet), and the audience listened with an absorbed hush that

gratified me more than any applause; and as I dropped the last word of the clause, I happened to turn and

catch Mrs.'s intent and waiting eye; my conversation with her flashed upon me, and in spite of all I could

do I smiled. She took it for the signal, and promptly delivered a mellow laugh that touched off the whole

audience; and the explosion that followed was the triumph of the evening. I thought that that honest man

Sawyer would choke himself; and as for the bludgeons, they performed like piledrivers. But my poor little

morsel of pathos was ruined. It was taken in good faith as an intentional joke, and the prize one of the

All the papers were kind in the morning; my appetite returned; I had a abundance of money. All's well that

I launched out as a lecturer, now, with great boldness. I had the field all to myself, for public lectures were

almost an unknown commodity in the Pacific market. They are not so rare, now, I suppose. I took an old

personal friend along to play agent for me, and for two or three weeks we roamed through Nevada and

California and had a very cheerful time of it. Two days before I lectured in Virginia City, two stagecoaches

were robbed within two miles of the town. The daring act was committed just at dawn, by six masked men,

who sprang up alongside the coaches, presented revolvers at the heads of the drivers and passengers, and

commanded a general dismount. Everybody climbed down, and the robbers took their watches and every cent

they had. Then they took gunpowder and blew up the express specie boxes and got their contents. The leader

of the robbers was a small, quickspoken man, and the fame of his vigorous manner and his intrepidity was

The night after instructing Virginia, I walked over the desolate "divide" and down to Gold Hill, and lectured

there. The lecture done, I stopped to talk with a friend, and did not start back till eleven. The "divide" was

high, unoccupied ground, between the towns, the scene of twenty midnight murders and a hundred robberies.

As we climbed up and stepped out on this eminence, the Gold Hill lights dropped out of sight at our backs,

and the night closed down gloomy and dismal. A sharp wind swept the place, too, and chilled our perspiring

"Well, don't speak so loud," I said. "You needn't remind anybody that we are here."

Just then a dim figure approached me from the direction of Virginiaa man, evidently. He came straight at

me, and I stepped aside to let him pass; he stepped in the way and confronted me again. Then I saw that he

had a mask on and was holding something in my faceI heard a clickclick and recognized a revolver in

"You can have them with pleasurebut take the pistol away from my face, please. It makes me shiver."

Are you going to hand out your money or not? Ahahagain? Put up your hands! By George, you want the

"Well, friend, I'm trying my best to please you. You tell me to give up my money, and when I reach for it you

tell me to put up my hands. If you would only. Oh, nowdon't! All six of you at me! That other man will

get away while.Now please take some of those revolvers out of my facedo, if you please! Every time

one of them clicks, my liver comes up into my throat! If you have a motherany of youor if any of you

"Cheese it! Will you give up your money, or have we got to. There therenone of that! Put up your

"Silence! If you want to be facetious, young man, there are times and places more fitting. This is a serious

"You prick the marrow of my opinion. The funerals I have attended in my time were comedies compared to

"Gentlemen, listen to reason. You see how I am situatednow don't put those pistols so closeI smell the

"Gentlemen, don't! Nobody's watching the other fellow. Why don't some of you. Ouch! Take it away,

Gentlemen, you see that I've got to hold up my hands; and so I can't take out my moneybut if you'll be so

"Search him Beauregardand stop his jaw with a bullet, quick, if he wags it again. Help Beauregard,

Then three of them, with the small, spry leader, adjourned to Mike and fell to searching him. I was so excited

that my lawless fancy tortured me to ask my two men all manner of facetious questions about their rebel

brothergenerals of the South, but, considering the order they had received, it was but common prudence to

keep still. When everything had been taken from me,watch, money, and a multitude of trifles of small

value,I supposed I was free, and forthwith put my cold hands into my empty pockets and began an

inoffensive jig to warm my feet and stir up some latent couragebut instantly all pistols were at my head,

They stood Mike up alongside of me, with strict orders to keep his hands above his head, too, and then the

"Beauregard, hide behind that boulder; Phil Sheridan, you hide behind that other one; Stonewall Jackson, put

yourself behind that sagebush there. Keep your pistols bearing on these fellows, and if they take down their

Then three disappeared in the gloom toward the several ambushes, and the other three disappeared down the

It was depressingly still, and miserably cold. Now this whole thing was a practical joke, and the robbers were

personal friends of ours in disguise, and twenty more lay hidden within ten feet of us during the whole

operation, listening. Mike knew all this, and was in the joke, but I suspected nothing of it. To me it was most

uncomfortably genuine. When we had stood there in the middle of the road five minutes, like a couple of

idiots, with our hands aloft, freezing to death by inches, Mike's interest in the joke began to wane. He said:

"No, you keep still. Do you want to take any chances with these bloody savages?"

"Well freeze. Better freeze than carry your brains home in a basket. Maybe the time is up, but how do we

know?got no watch to tell by. I mean to give them good measure. I calculate to stand here fifteen minutes

So, without knowing it, I was making one joker very sick of his contract. When we took our arms down at

last, they were aching with cold and fatigue, and when we went sneaking off, the dread I was in that the time

might not yet be up and that we would feel bullets in a moment, was not sufficient to draw all my attention

The joke of these highwayman friends of ours was mainly a joke upon themselves; for they had waited for me

on the cold hilltop two full hours before I came, and there was very little fun in that; they were so chilled

that it took them a couple of weeks to get warm again. Moreover, I never had a thought that they would kill

me to get money which it was so perfectly easy to get without any such folly, and so they did not really

frighten me bad enough to make their enjoyment worth the trouble they had taken. I was only afraid that their

weapons would go off accidentally. Their very numbers inspired me with confidence that no blood would be

intentionally spilled. They were not smart; they ought to have sent only one highwayman, with a

doublebarrelled shot gun, if they desired to see the author of this volume climb a tree.

However, I suppose that in the long run I got the largest share of the joke at last; and in a shape not foreseen

by the highwaymen; for the chilly exposure on the "divide" while I was in a perspiration gave me a cold

which developed itself into a troublesome disease and kept my hands idle some three months, besides costing

me quite a sum in doctor's bills. Since then I play no practical jokes on people and generally lose my temper

When I returned to San Francisco I projected a pleasure journey to Japan and thence westward around the

world; but a desire to see home again changed my mind, and I took a berth in the steamship, bade goodbye

to the friendliest land and livest, heartiest community on our continent, and came by the way of the Isthmus

to New Yorka trip that was not much of a picnic excursion, for the cholera broke out among us on the

passage and we buried two or three bodies at sea every day. I found home a dreary place after my long

absence; for half the children I had known were now wearing whiskers or waterfalls, and few of the grown

people I had been acquainted with remained at their hearthstones prosperous and happysome of them had

wandered to other scenes, some were in jail, and the rest had been hanged. These changes touched me deeply,

and I went away and joined the famous Quaker City European Excursion and carried my tears to foreign

Thus, after seven years of vicissitudes, ended a "pleasure trip" to the silver mines of Nevada which had

originally been intended to occupy only three months. However, I usually miss my calculations further than

If the reader thinks he is done, now, and that this book has no moral to it, he is in error. The moral of it is this:

If you are of any account, stay at home and make your way by faithful diligence; but if you are "no account,"

go away from home, and then you will have to work, whether you want to or not. Thus you become a

blessing to your friends by ceasing to be a nuisance to themif the people you go among suffer by the

Mormonism is only about forty years old, but its career has been full of stir and adventure from the

beginning, and is likely to remain so to the end. Its adherents have been hunted and hounded from one end of

the country to the other, and the result is that for years they have hated all "Gentiles" indiscriminately and

with all their might. Joseph Smith, the finder of the Book of Mormon and founder of the religion, was driven

from State to State with his mysterious copperplates and the miraculous stones he read their inscriptions with.

Finally he instituted his "church" in Ohio and Brigham Young joined it. The neighbors began to persecute,

and apostasy commenced. Brigham held to the faith and worked hard. He arrested desertion. He did

morehe added converts in the midst of the trouble. He rose in favor and importance with the brethren. He

was made one of the Twelve Apostles of the Church. He shortly fought his way to a higher post and a more

powerfulPresident of the Twelve. The neighbors rose up and drove the Mormons out of Ohio, and they

settled in Missouri. Brigham went with them. The Missourians drove them out and they retreated to Nauvoo,

Illinois. They prospered there, and built a temple which made some pretensions to architectural grace and

achieved some celebrity in a section of country where a brick courthouse with a tin dome and a cupola on it

was contemplated with reverential awe. But the Mormons were badgered and harried again by their

neighbors. All the proclamations Joseph Smith could issue denouncing polygamy and repudiating it as utterly

antiMormon were of no avail; the people of the neighborhood, on both sides of the Mississippi, claimed that

polygamy was practised by the Mormons, and not only polygamy but a little of everything that was bad.

Brigham returned from a mission to England, where he had established a Mormon newspaper, and he brought

back with him several hundred converts to his preaching. His influence among the brethren augmented with

every move he made. Finally Nauvoo was invaded by the Missouri and Illinois Gentiles, and Joseph Smith

killed. A Mormon named Rigdon assumed the Presidency of the Mormon church and government, in Smith's

place, and even tried his hand at a prophecy or two. But a greater than he was at hand. Brigham seized the

advantage of the hour and without other authority than superior brain and nerve and will, hurled Rigdon from

his high place and occupied it himself. He did more. He launched an elaborate curse at Rigdon and his

disciples; and he pronounced Rigdon's "prophecies" emanations from the devil, and ended by "handing the

false prophet over to the buffetings of Satan for a thousand years"probably the longest term ever inflicted

in Illinois. The people recognized their master. They straightway elected Brigham Young President, by a

prodigious majority, and have never faltered in their devotion to him from that day to this. Brigham had

forecasta quality which no other prominent Mormon has probably ever possessed. He recognized that it

was better to move to the wilderness than be moved. By his command the people gathered together their

meagre effects, turned their backs upon their homes, and their faces toward the wilderness, and on a bitter

night in February filed in sorrowful procession across the frozen Mississippi, lighted on their way by the

glare from their burning temple, whose sacred furniture their own hands had fired! They camped, several

days afterward, on the western verge of Iowa, and poverty, want, hunger, cold, sickness, grief and persecution

did their work, and many succumbed and diedmartyrs, fair and true, whatever else they might have been.

Two years the remnant remained there, while Brigham and a small party crossed the country and founded

Great Salt Lake City, purposely choosing a land which was outside the ownership and jurisdiction of the

hated American nation. Note that. This was in 1847. Brigham moved his people there and got them settled

just in time to see disaster fall again. For the war closed and Mexico ceded Brigham's refuge to the

enemythe United States! In 1849 the Mormons organized a "free and independent" government and

erected the "State of Deseret," with Brigham Young as its head. But the very next year Congress deliberately

snubbed it and created the "Territory of Utah" out of the same accumulation of mountains, sagebrush, alkali

and general desolation,but made Brigham Governor of it. Then for years the enormous migration across

the plains to California poured through the land of the Mormons and yet the church remained staunch and

true to its lord and master. Neither hunger, thirst, poverty, grief, hatred, contempt, nor persecution could drive

the Mormons from their faith or their allegiance; and even the thirst for gold, which gleaned the flower of the

youth and strength of many nations was not able to entice them! That was the final test. An experiment that

Great Salt Lake City throve finely, and so did Utah. One of the last things which Brigham Young had done

before leaving Iowa, was to appear in the pulpit dressed to personate the worshipped and lamented prophet

Smith, and confer the prophetic succession, with all its dignities, emoluments and authorities, upon "President

Brigham Young!" The people accepted the pious fraud with the maddest enthusiasm, and Brigham's power

was sealed and secured for all time. Within five years afterward he openly added polygamy to the tenets of

the church by authority of a "revelation" which he pretended had been received nine years before by Joseph

Smith, albeit Joseph is amply on record as denouncing polygamy to the day of his death.

Now was Brigham become a second Andrew Johnson in the small beginning and steady progress of his

official grandeur. He had served successively as a disciple in the ranks; home missionary; foreign missionary;

editor and publisher; Apostle; President of the Board of Apostles; President of all Mormondom, civil and

ecclesiastical; successor to the great Joseph by the will of heaven; "prophet," "seer," "revelator." There was

but one dignity higher which he could aspire to, and he reached out modestly and took thathe proclaimed

He claims that he is to have a heaven of his own hereafter, and that he will be its God, and his wives and

children its goddesses, princes and princesses. Into it all faithful Mormons will be admitted, with their

families, and will take rank and consequence according to the number of their wives and children. If a

disciple dies before he has had time to accumulate enough wives and children to enable him to be respectable

in the next world any friend can marry a few wives and raise a few children for him after he is dead, and they

Let it be borne in mind that the majority of the Mormons have always been ignorant, simple, of an inferior

order of intellect, unacquainted with the world and its ways; and let it be borne in mind that the wives of

these Mormons are necessarily after the same pattern and their children likely to be fit representatives of such

a conjunction; and then let it be remembered that for forty years these creatures have been driven, driven,

driven, relentlessly! and mobbed, beaten, and shot down; cursed, despised, expatriated; banished to a remote

desert, whither they journeyed gaunt with famine and disease, disturbing the ancient solitudes with their

lamentations and marking the long way with graves of their deadand all because they were simply trying

to live and worship God in the way which they believed with all their hearts and souls to be the true one. Let

all these things be borne in mind, and then it will not be hard to account for the deathless hatred which the

That hatred has "fed fat its ancient grudge" ever since Mormon Utah developed into a selfsupporting realm

and the church waxed rich and strong. Brigham as Territorial Governor made it plain that Mormondom was

for the Mormons. The United States tried to rectify all that by appointing territorial officers from New

England and other antiMormon localities, but Brigham prepared to make their entrance into his dominions

difficult. Three thousand United States troops had to go across the plains and put these gentlemen in office.

And after they were in office they were as helpless as so many stone images. They made laws which nobody

minded and which could not be executed. The federal judges opened court in a land filled with crime and

violence and sat as holiday spectacles for insolent crowds to gape atfor there was nothing to try, nothing to

do nothing on the dockets! And if a Gentile brought a suit, the Mormon jury would do just as it pleased about

bringing in a verdict, and when the judgment of the court was rendered no Mormon cared for it and no officer

could execute it. Our Presidents shipped one cargo of officials after another to Utah, but the result was always

the samethey sat in a blight for awhile they fairly feasted on scowls and insults day by day, they saw every

attempt to do their official duties find its reward in darker and darker looks, and in secret threats and

warnings of a more and more dismal natureand at last they either succumbed and became despised tools

and toys of the Mormons, or got scared and discomforted beyond all endurance and left the Territory. If a

brave officer kept on courageously till his pluck was proven, some pliant Buchanan or Pierce would remove

him and appoint a stick in his place. In 1857 General Harney came very near being appointed Governor of

Utah. And so it came very near being Harney governor and Cradlebaugh judge! two men who never had

any idea of fear further than the sort of murky comprehension of it which they were enabled to gather from

the dictionary. Simply (if for nothing else) for the variety they would have made in a rather monotonous

history of Federal servility and helplessness, it is a pity they were not fated to hold office together in Utah.

Up to the date of our visit to Utah, such had been the Territorial record. The Territorial government

established there had been a hopeless failure, and Brigham Young was the only real power in the land. He

was an absolute monarcha monarch who defied our Presidenta monarch who laughed at our armies

when they camped about his capitala monarch who received without emotion the news that the august

Congress of the United States had enacted a solemn law against polygamy, and then went forth calmly and

The persecutions which the Mormons suffered so longand which they consider they still suffer in not being

allowed to govern themselves they have endeavored and are still endeavoring to repay. The now almost

forgotten "Mountain Meadows massacre" was their work. It was very famous in its day. The whole United

States rang with its horrors. A few items will refresh the reader's memory. A great emigrant train from

Missouri and Arkansas passed through Salt Lake City and a few disaffected Mormons joined it for the sake of

the strong protection it afforded for their escape. In that matter lay sufficient cause for hot retaliation by the

Mormon chiefs. Besides, these one hundred and fortyfive or one hundred and fifty unsuspecting emigrants

being in part from Arkansas, where a noted Mormon missionary had lately been killed, and in part from

Missouri, a State remembered with execrations as a bitter persecutor of the saints when they were few and

poor and friendless, here were substantial additional grounds for lack of love for these wayfarers. And finally,

this train was rich, very rich in cattle, horses, mules and other propertyand how could the Mormons

consistently keep up their coveted resemblance to the Israelitish tribes and not seize the "spoil" of an enemy

Wherefore, according to Mrs. C. V. Waite's entertaining book, "The Mormon Prophet," it transpired that

"A 'revelation' from Brigham Young, as Great Grand Archee or God, was dispatched to President J. C.

Haight, Bishop Higbee and J. D. Lee (adopted son of Brigham), commanding them to raise all the forces they

could muster and trust, follow those cursed Gentiles (so read the revelation), attack them disguised as Indians,

and with the arrows of the Almighty make a clean sweep of them, and leave none to tell the tale; and if they

needed any assistance they were commanded to hire the Indians as their allies, promising them a share of the

booty. They were to be neither slothful nor negligent in their duty, and to be punctual in sending the teams

The command of the "revelation" was faithfully obeyed. A large party of Mormons, painted and tricked out

as Indians, overtook the train of emigrant wagons some three hundred miles south of Salt Lake City, and

made an attack. But the emigrants threw up earthworks, made fortresses of their wagons and defended

themselves gallantly and successfully for five days! Your Missouri or Arkansas gentleman is not much afraid

of the sort of scurvy apologies for "Indians" which the southern part of Utah affords. He would stand up and

At the end of the five days the Mormons tried military strategy. They retired to the upper end of the

"Meadows," resumed civilized apparel, washed off their paint, and then, heavily armed, drove down in

wagons to the beleaguered emigrants, bearing a flag of truce! When the emigrants saw white men coming

they threw down their guns and welcomed them with cheer after cheer! And, all unconscious of the poetry of

it, no doubt, they lifted a little child aloft, dressed in white, in answer to the flag of truce!

The leaders of the timely white "deliverers" were President Haight and Bishop John D. Lee, of the Mormon

Church. Mr. Cradlebaugh, who served a term as a Federal Judge in Utah and afterward was sent to Congress

from Nevada, tells in a speech delivered in Congress how these leaders next proceeded:

"They professed to be on good terms with the Indians, and represented them as being very mad. They also

proposed to intercede and settle the matter with the Indians. After several hours parley they, having

(apparently) visited the Indians, gave the ultimatum of the savages; which was, that the emigrants should

march out of their camp, leaving everything behind them, even their guns. It was promised by the Mormon

bishops that they would bring a force and guard the emigrants back to the settlements. The terms were agreed

to, the emigrants being desirous of saving the lives of their families. The Mormons retired, and subsequently

appeared with thirty or forty armed men. The emigrants were marched out, the women and children in front

and the men behind, the Mormon guard being in the rear. When they had marched in this way about a mile, at

a given signal the slaughter commenced. The men were almost all shot down at the first fire from the guard.

Two only escaped, who fled to the desert, and were followed one hundred and fifty miles before they were

overtaken and slaughtered. The women and children ran on, two or three hundred yards further, when they

were overtaken and with the aid of the Indians they were slaughtered. Seventeen individuals only, of all the

emigrant party, were spared, and they were little children, the eldest of them being only seven years old.

Thus, on the 10th day of September, 1857, was consummated one of the most cruel, cowardly and bloody

The number of persons butchered by the Mormons on this occasion was one hundred and twenty.

With unheardof temerity Judge Cradlebaugh opened his court and proceeded to make Mormondom answer

for the massacre. And what a spectacle it must have been to see this grim veteran, solitary and alone in his

pride and his pluck, glowering down on his Mormon jury and Mormon auditory, deriding them by turns, and

An editorial in the Territorial Enterprise of that day says of him and of the occasion:

"He spoke and acted with the fearlessness and resolution of a Jackson; but the jury failed to indict, or even

report on the charges, while threats of violence were heard in every quarter, and an attack on the U.S. troops

"Finding that nothing could be done with the juries, they were discharged with a scathing rebuke from the

judge. And then, sitting as a committing magistrate, he commenced his task alone. He examined witnesses,

made arrests in every quarter, and created a consternation in the camps of the saints greater than any they had

ever witnessed before, since Mormondom was born. At last accounts terrified elders and bishops were

decamping to save their necks; and developments of the most starling character were being made, implicating

the highest Church dignitaries in the many murders and robberies committed upon the Gentiles during the

Had Harney been Governor, Cradlebaugh would have been supported in his work, and the absolute proofs

adduced by him of Mormon guilt in this massacre and in a number of previous murders, would have

conferred gratuitous coffins upon certain citizens, together with occasion to use them. But Cumming was the

Federal Governor, and he, under a curious pretense of impartiality, sought to screen the Mormons from the

demands of justice. On one occasion he even went so far as to publish his protest against the use of the U.S.

Mrs. C. V. Waite closes her interesting detail of the great massacre with the following remark and

accompanying summary of the testimonyand the summary is concise, accurate and reliable:

"For the benefit of those who may still be disposed to doubt the guilt of Young and his Mormons in this

transaction, the testimony is here collated and circumstances given which go not merely to implicate but to

"1. The evidence of Mormons themselves, engaged in the affair, as shown by the statements of Judge

Cradlebaugh and Deputy U.S. Marshall Rodgers. "2. The failure of Brigham Young to embody any account

of it in his Report as Superintendent of Indian Affairs. Also his failure to make any allusion to it whatever

from the pulpit, until several years after the occurrence "3. The flight to the mountains of men high in

authority in the Mormon Church and State, when this affair was brought to the ordeal of a judicial

investigation. "4. The failure of the Deseret News, the Church organ, and the only paper then published in the

Territory, to notice the massacre until several months afterward, and then only to deny that Mormons were

engaged in it. "5. The testimony of the children saved from the massacre. "6. The children and the property of

the emigrants found in possession of the Mormons, and that possession traced back to the very day after the

massacre. "7. The statements of Indians in the neighborhood of the scene of the massacre: these statements

are shown, not only by Cradlebaugh and Rodgers, but by a number of military officers, and by J. Forney, who

was, in 1859, Superintendent of Indian Affairs for the Territory. To all these were such statements freely and

frequently made by the Indians. "8. The testimony of R. P. Campbell, Capt. 2d Dragoons, who was sent in the

Spring of 1859 to Santa Clara, to protect travelers on the road to California and to inquire into Indian

If ever there was a harmless man, it is Conrad Wiegand, of Gold Hill, Nevada. If ever there was a gentle spirit

that thought itself unfired gunpowder and latent ruin, it is Conrad Wiegand. If ever there was an oyster that

fancied itself a whale; or a jacko'lantern, confined to a swamp, that fancied itself a planet with a

billionmile orbit; or a summer zephyr that deemed itself a hurricane, it is Conrad Wiegand. Therefore, what

wonder is it that when he says a thing, he thinks the world listens; that when he does a thing the world stands

still to look; and that when he suffers, there is a convulsion of nature? When I met Conrad, he was

"Superintendent of the Gold Hill Assay Office"and he was not only its Superintendent, but its entire force.

And he was a street preacher, too, with a mongrel religion of his own invention, whereby he expected to

regenerate the universe. This was years ago. Here latterly he has entered journalism; and his journalism is

what it might be expected to be: colossal to ear, but pigmy to the eye. It is extravagant grandiloquence

confined to a newspaper about the size of a double letter sheet. He doubtless edits, sets the type, and prints his

paper, all alone; but he delights to speak of the concern as if it occupies a block and employs a thousand men.

[Something less than two years ago, Conrad assailed several people mercilessly in his little "People's

Tribune," and got himself into trouble. Straightway he airs the affair in the "Territorial Enterprise," in a

communication over his own signature, and I propose to reproduce it here, in all its native simplicity and

more than human candor. Long as it is, it is well worth reading, for it is the richest specimen of journalistic

TO THE EDITOR OF THE ENTERPRISE: Months ago, when Mr. Sutro incidentally exposed mining

management on the Comstock, and among others roused me to protest against its continuance, in great

kindness you warned me that any attempt by publications, by public meetings and by legislative action,

aimed at the correction of chronic mining evils in Storey County, must entail upon me (a) business ruin, (b)

the burden of all its costs, (c) personal violence, and if my purpose were persisted in, then (d) assassination,

YOUR PROPHECY FULFILLING. In large part at least your prophecies have been fulfilled, for (a)

assaying, which was well attended to in the Gold Hill Assay Office (of which I am superintendent), in

consequence of my publications, has been taken elsewhere, so the President of one of the companies assures

me. With no reason assigned, other work has been taken away. With but one or two important exceptions, our

assay business now consists simply of the gleanings of the vicinity. (b) Though my own personal donations to

the People's Tribune Association have already exceeded $1,500, outside of our own numbers we have

received (in money) less than $300 as contributions and subscriptions for the journal. (c) On Thursday last,

on the main street in Gold Hill, near noon, with neither warning nor cause assigned, by a powerful blow I was

felled to the ground, and while down I was kicked by a man who it would seem had been led to believe that I

had spoken derogatorily of him. By whom he was so induced to believe I am as yet unable to say. On

Saturday last I was again assailed and beaten by a man who first informed me why he did so, and who

persisted in making his assault even after the erroneous impression under which he also was at first laboring

had been clearly and repeatedly pointed out. This same man, after failing through intimidation to elicit from

me the names of our editorial contributors, against giving which he knew me to be pledged, beat himself

weary upon me with a raw hide, I not resisting, and then pantingly threatened me with permanent disfiguring

mayhem, if ever again I should introduce his name into print, and who but a few minutes before his attack

upon me assured me that the only reason I was "permitted" to reach home alive on Wednesday evening last

(at which time the PEOPLE'S TRIBUNE was issued) was, that he deems me only halfwitted, and be it

remembered the very next morning I was knocked down and kicked by a man who seemed to be prepared for

WHEN WILL THE CIRCLE JOIN? How long before the whole of your prophecy will be fulfilled I cannot

say, but under the shadow of so much fulfillment in so short a time, and with such threats from a man who is

one of the most prominent exponents of the San Francisco miningring staring me and this whole community

defiantly in the face and pointing to a completion of your augury, do you blame me for feeling that this

communication is the last I shall ever write for the Press, especially when a sense alike of personal self

respect, of duty to this moneyoppressed and fearridden community, and of American fealty to the spirit of

true Liberty all command me, and each more loudly than love of life itself, to declare the name of that

prominent man to be JOHN B. WINTERS, President of the Yellow Jacket Company, a political aspirant and

a military General? The name of his partially duped accomplice and abettor in this last marvelous assault, is

Despite the insult and wrong heaped upon me by John B. Winters, on Saturday afternoon, only a glimpse of

which I shall be able to afford your readers, so much do I deplore clinching (by publicity) a serious mistake

of any one, man or woman, committed under natural and not self wrought passion, in view of his great

apparent excitement at the time and in view of the almost perfect privacy of the assault, I am far from sure

that I should not have given him space for repentance before exposing him, were it not that he himself has so

far exposed the matter as to make it the common talk of the town that he has horsewhipped me. That fact

having been made public, all the facts in connection need to be also, or silence on my part would seem more

than singular, and with many would be proof either that I was conscious of some unworthy aim in publishing

the article, or else that my "noncombatant" principles are but a convenient cloak alike of physical and moral

cowardice. I therefore shall try to present a graphic but truthful picture of this whole affair, but shall forbear

all comments, presuming that the editors of our own journal, if others do not, will speak freely and fittingly

upon this subject in our next number, whether I shall then be dead or living, for my death will not stop,

though it may suspend, the publication of the PEOPLE'S TRIBUNE. [The "noncombatant" sticks to

THE TRAP SET. On Saturday morning John B. Winters sent verbal word to the Gold Hill Assay Office that

he desired to see me at the Yellow Jacket office. Though such a request struck me as decidedly cool in view

of his own recent discourtesies to me there alike as a publisher and as a stockholder in the Yellow Jacket

mine, and though it seemed to me more like a summons than the courteous request by one gentleman to

another for a favor, hoping that some conference with Sharon looking to the betterment of mining matters in

Nevada might arise from it, I felt strongly inclined to overlook what possibly was simply an oversight in

courtesy. But as then it had only been two days since I had been bruised and beaten under a hasty and false

apprehension of facts, my caution was somewhat aroused. Moreover I remembered sensitively his

contemptuousness of manner to me at my last interview in his office. I therefore felt it needful, if I went at

all, to go accompanied by a friend whom he would not dare to treat with incivility, and whose presence with

me might secure exemption from insult. Accordingly I asked a neighbor to accompany me.

THE TRAP ALMOST DETECTED. Although I was not then aware of this fact, it would seem that previous

to my request this same neighbor had heard Dr. Zabriskie state publicly in a saloon, that Mr. Winters had told

him he had decided either to kill or to horsewhip me, but had not finally decided on which. My neighbor,

therefore, felt unwilling to go down with me until he had first called on Mr. Winters alone. He therefore paid

him a visit. From that interview he assured me that he gathered the impression that he did not believe I would

have any difficulty with Mr. Winters, and that he (Winters) would call on me at four o'clock in my own

MY OWN PRECAUTIONS. As Sheriff Cummings was in Gold Hill that afternoon, and as I desired to

converse with him about the previous assault, I invited him to my office, and he came. Although a half hour

had passed beyond four o'clock, Mr. Winters had not called, and we both of us began preparing to go home.

Just then, Philip Lynch, Publisher of the Gold Hill News, came in and said, blandly and cheerily, as if

I replied, "Indeed! Why he sent me word that he would call on me here this afternoon at four o'clock!"

"O, well, it don't do to be too ceremonious just now, he's in my office, and that will do as wellcome on in,

Though slightly uneasy at this change of programme, yet believing that in an editor's house I ought to be safe,

and anyhow that I would be within hail of the street, I hurriedly, and but partially whispered my dim

apprehensions to Mr. Cummings, and asked him if he would not keep near enough to hear my voice in case I

should call. He consented to do so while waiting for some other parties, and to come in if he heard my voice

On reaching the editorial part of the News office, which viewed from the street is dark, I did not see Mr.

Winters, and again my misgivings arose. Had I paused long enough to consider the case, I should have

invited Sheriff Cummings in, but as Lynch went down stairs, he said: "This way, Wiegandit's best to be

[I do not desire to strain the reader's fancy, hurtfully, and yet it would be a favor to me if he would try to

fancy this lamb in battle, or the duelling ground or at the head of a vigilance committeeM. T.:]

I followed, and without Mr. Cummings, and without arms, which I never do or will carry, unless as a soldier

in war, or unless I should yet come to feel I must fight a duel, or to join and aid in the ranks of a necessary

Vigilance Committee. But by following I made a fatal mistake. Following was entering a trap, and whatever

animal suffers itself to be caught should expect the common fate of a caged rat, as I fear events to come will

THE TRAP INSIDE. I followed Lynch down stairs. At their foot a door to the left opened into a small room.

From that room another door opened into yet another room, and once entered I found myself inveigled into

what many will ever henceforth regard as a private subterranean Gold Hill den, admirably adapted in proper

hands to the purposes of murder, raw or disguised, for from it, with both or even one door closed, when too

late, I saw that I could not be heard by Sheriff Cummings, and from it, BY VIOLENCE AND BY FORCE, I

was prevented from making a peaceable exit, when I thought I saw the studious object of this "consultation"

was no other than to compass my killing, in the presence of Philip Lynch as a witness, as soon as by insult a

proverbially excitable man should be exasperated to the point of assailing Mr. Winters, so that Mr. Lynch, by

his conscience and by his well known tenderness of heart toward the rich and potent would be compelled to

testify that he saw Gen. John B. Winters kill Conrad Wiegand in "selfdefence." But I am going too fast.

OUR HOST. Mr. Lynch was present during the most of the time (say a little short of an hour), but three times

he left the room. His testimony, therefore, would be available only as to the bulk of what transpired. On

entering this carpeted den I was invited to a seat near one corner of the room. Mr. Lynch took a seat near the

window. J. B. Winters sat (at first) near the door, and began his remarks essentially as follows:

"I have come here to exact of you a retraction, in black and white, of those damnably false charges which you

have preferred against me in that infamous lying sheet of yours, and you must declare yourself their

author, that you published them knowing them to be false, and that your motives were malicious."

"Hold, Mr. Winters. Your language is insulting and your demand an enormity. I trust I was not invited here

either to be insulted or coerced. I supposed myself here by invitation of Mr. Lynch, at your request."

"Nor did I come here to insult you. I have already told you that I am here for a very different purpose."

"Yet your language has been offensive, and even now shows strong excitement. If insult is repeated I shall

either leave the room or call in Sheriff Cummings, whom I just left standing and waiting for me outside the

"No, you won't, sir. You may just as well understand it at once as not. Here you are my man, and I'll tell you

why! Months ago you put your property out of your hands, boasting that you did so to escape losing it on

"It is true that I did convert all my immovable property into personal property, such as I could trust safely to

"Very good, sir. Having placed yourself beyond the pale of the law, may God help your soul if you DON'T

make precisely such a retraction as I have demanded. I've got you now, and bybefore you can get out of

this room you've got to both write and sign precisely the retraction I have demanded, and before you go,

anyhowyoulowlivedlying, I'll teach you what personal responsibility is outside of the law;

and, by, Sheriff Cummings and all the friends you've got in the world besides, can't save you, you,

etc.! No, sir. I'm alone now, and I'm prepared to be shot down just here and now rather than be villified by

you as I have been, and suffer you to escape me after publishing those charges, not only here where I am

known and universally respected, but where I am not personally known and may be injured."

I confess this speech, with its terrible and but too plainly implied threat of killing me if I did not sign the

paper he demanded, terrified me, especially as I saw he was working himself up to the highest possible pitch

of passion, and instinct told me that any reply other than one of seeming concession to his demands would

"Well, if I've got to sign," and then I paused some time. Resuming, I said, "But, Mr. Winters, you are

greatly excited. Besides, I see you are laboring under a total misapprehension. It is your duty not to inflame

but to calm yourself. I am prepared to show you, if you will only point out the article that you allude to, that

you regard as 'charges' what no calm and logical mind has any right to regard as such. Show me the charges,

and I will try, at all events; and if it becomes plain that no charges have been preferred, then plainly there can

be nothing to retract, and no one could rightly urge you to demand a retraction. You should beware of making

so serious a mistake, for however honest a man may be, every one is liable to misapprehend. Besides you

assume that I am the author of some certain article which you have not pointed out. It is hasty to do so."

He then pointed to some numbered paragraphs in a TRIBUNE article, headed "What's the Matter with

To gain time for general reflection and resolution, I took up the paper and looked it over for awhile, he

remaining silent, and as I hoped, cooling. I then resumed saying, "As I supposed. I do not admit having

written that article, nor have you any right to assume so important a point, and then base important action

upon your assumption. You might deeply regret it afterwards. In my published Address to the People, I

notified the world that no information as to the authorship of any article would be given without the consent

of the writer. I therefore cannot honorably tell you who wrote that article, nor can you exact it."

"Passing that point, the most important misapprehension which I notice is, that you regard them as 'charges' at

all, when their context, both at their beginning and end, show they are not. These words introduce them:

'Such an investigation [just before indicated], we think MIGHT result in showing some of the following

points.' Then follow eleven specifications, and the succeeding paragraph shows that the suggested

investigation 'might EXONERATE those who are generally believed guilty.' You see, therefore, the context

proves they are not preferred as charges, and this you seem to have overlooked."

While making those comments, Mr. Winters frequently interrupted me in such a way as to convince me that

he was resolved not to consider candidly the thoughts contained in my words. He insisted upon it that they

were charges, and "By," he would make me take them back as charges, and he referred the question to

Philip Lynch, to whom I then appealed as a literary man, as a logician, and as an editor, calling his attention

especially to the introductory paragraph just before quoted. He replied, "if they are not charges, they certainly

are insinuations," whereupon Mr. Winters renewed his demands for retraction precisely such as he had before

named, except that he would allow me to state who did write the article if I did not myself, and this time

When he threatened me with his clenched fist, instinctively I tried to rise from my chair, but Winters then

forcibly thrust me down, as he did every other time (at least seven or eight), when under similar imminent

danger of bruising by his fist (or for aught I could know worse than that after the first stunning blow), which

he could easily and safely to himself have dealt me so long as he kept me down and stood over me.

This fact it was, which more than anything else, convinced me that by plan and plot I was purposely made

powerless in Mr. Winters' hands, and that he did not mean to allow me that advantage of being afoot, which

he possessed. Moreover, I then became convinced, that Philip Lynch (and for what reason I wondered) would

do absolutely nothing to protect me in his own house. I realized then the situation thoroughly. I had found it

equally vain to protest or argue, and I would make no unmanly appeal for pity, still less apologize. Yet my

life had been by the plainest possible implication threatened. I was a weak man. I was unarmed. I was

helplessly down, and Winters was afoot and probably armed. Lynch was the only "witness." The statements

demanded, if given and not explained, would utterly sink me in my own selfrespect, in my family's eyes,

and in the eyes of the community. On the other hand, should I give the author's name how could I ever expect

that confidence of the People which I should no longer deserve, and how much dearer to me and to my family

was my life than the life of the real author to his friends. Yet life seemed dear and each minute that remained

seemed precious if not solemn. I sincerely trust that neither you nor any of your readers, and especially none

with families, may ever be placed in such seeming direct proximity to death while obliged to decide the one

question I was compelled to, viz.: What should I doI, a man of family, and not as Mr. Winters is, "alone."

STRATEGY AND MESMERISM. To gain time for further reflection, and hoping that by a seeming

acquiescence I might regain my personal liberty, at least till I could give an alarm, or take advantage of some

momentary inadvertence of Winters, and then without a cowardly flight escape, I resolved to write a certain

First.That I would studiously avoid every action which might be construed into the drawing of a weapon,

even by a selfinfuriated man, no matter what amount of insult might be heaped upon me, for it seemed to

me that this great excess of compound profanity, foulness and epithet must be more than a mere indulgence,

and therefore must have some object. "Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird." Therefore, as

before without thought, I thereafter by intent kept my hands away from my pockets, and generally in sight

Second.I resolved to make no motion with my arms or hands which could possibly be construed into

Third.I resolved completely to govern my outward manner and suppress indignation. To do this, I must

govern my spirit. To do that, by force of imagination I was obliged like actors on the boards to resolve myself

into an unnatural mental state and see all things through the eyes of an assumed character.

Fourth.I resolved to try on Winters, silently, and unconsciously to himself a mesmeric power which I

possess over certain kinds of people, and which at times I have found to work even in the dark over the lower

Does any one smile at these last counts? God save you from ever being obliged to beat in a game of chess,

whose stake is your life, you having but four poor pawns and pieces and your adversary with his full force

unshorn. But if you are, provided you have any strength with breadth of will, do not despair. Though

mesmeric power may not save you, it may help you; try it at all events. In this instance I was conscious of

power coming into me, and by a law of nature, I know Winters was correspondingly weakened. If I could

It takes time both to form such resolutions and to recite them. That time, however, I gained while thinking of

my retraction, which I first wrote in pencil, altering it from time to time till I got it to suit me, my aim being

to make it look like a concession to demands, while in fact it should tersely speak the truth into Mr. Winters'

mind. When it was finished, I copied it in ink, and if correctly copied from my first draft it should read as

COPY. To Philip Lynch, Editor of the Gold Hill News: I learn that Gen. John B. Winters believes the

following (pasted on) clipping from the PEOPLE'S TRIBUNE of January to contain distinct charges of mine

against him personally, and that as such he desires me to retract them unqualifiedly.

In compliance with his request, permit me to say that, although Mr. Winters and I see this matter differently,

in view of his strong feelings in the premises, I hereby declare that I do not know those "charges" (if such

they are) to be true, and I hope that a critical examination would altogether disprove them.

I then read what I had written and handed it to Mr. Lynch, whereupon Mr. Winters said:

"That's not satisfactory, and it won't do;" and then addressing himself to Mr. Lynch, he further said: "How

"Nor do I," said Winters; "in fact, I regard it as adding insult to injury. Mr. Wiegand you've got to do better

"No it isn't, sir, and if you so much as say so again you do it at your peril, for I'll thrash you to within an inch

of your life, and, by, sir, I don't pledge myself to spare you even that inch either. I want you to understand

I have asked you for a very different paper, and that paper you've got to sign."

"Mr. Winters, I assure you that I do not wish to irritate you, but, at the same time, it is utterly impossible for

me to write any other paper than that which I have written. If you are resolved to compel me to sign

something, Philip Lynch's hand must write at your dictation, and if, when written, I can sign it I will do so,

but such a document as you say you must have from me, I never can sign. I mean what I say."

"Well, sir, what's to be done must be done quickly, for I've been here long enough already. I'll put the thing in

another shape (and then pointing to the paper); don't you know those charges to be false?"

"Because rightly considered in their connection they are not charges, but pertinent and useful suggestions in

answer to the queries of a correspondent who stated facts which are inexplicable."

"If you do, the proper course is simply to deny them and court an investigation."

"And do YOU claim the right to make ME come out and deny anything you may choose to write and print?"

"Come, now, we've talked about the matter long enough. I want your final answerdid you write that article

"Most assuredly, sir, or I would never have consented to its appearance. Of its authorship I can say nothing

whatever, but for its publication I assume full, sole and personal responsibility."

"Mr. Winters, if my refusal to sign such a paper as you have demanded must entail upon me all that your

"Prayer!you, this is not your hour for prayeryour time to pray was when you were writing

"Take that, then," and to my amazement and inexpressible relief he drew only a rawhide instead of what I

expecteda bludgeon or pistol. With it, as he spoke, he struck at my left ear downwards, as if to tear it off,

and afterwards on the side of the head. As he moved away to get a better chance for a more effective shot, for

the first time I gained a chance under peril to rise, and I did so pitying him from the very bottom of my soul,

to think that one so naturally capable of true dignity, power and nobility could, by the temptations of this

State, and by unfortunate associations and aspirations, be so deeply debased as to find in such brutality

anything which he could call satisfactionbut the great hope for us all is in progress and growth, and John

He continued to beat me with all his great force, until absolutely weary, exhausted and panting for breath. I

still adhered to my purpose of non aggressive defence, and made no other use of my arms than to defend my

head and face from further disfigurement. The mere pain arising from the blows he inflicted upon my person

was of course transient, and my clothing to some extent deadened its severity, as it now hides all remaining

When I supposed he was through, taking the butt end of his weapon and shaking it in my face, he warned me,

if I correctly understood him, of more yet to come, and furthermore said, if ever I again dared introduce his

name to print, in either my own or any other public journal, he would cut off my left ear (and I do not think

he was jesting) and send me home to my family a visibly mutilated man, to be a standing warning to all

lowlived puppies who seek to blackmail gentlemen and to injure their good names. And when he did so

When he had said this, unaccompanied by Mr. Lynch, as I remember it, he left the room, for I sat down by

Mr. Lynch, exclaiming: "The man is mad he is utterly madthis step is his ruinit is a mistakeit

would be ungenerous in me, despite of all the ill usage I have here received, to expose him, at least until he

"Winters is very mad just now," replied Mr. Lynch, "but when he is himself he is one of the finest men I ever

met. In fact, he told me the reason he did not meet you upstairs was to spare you the humiliation of a beating

I submit that that unguarded remark of Philip Lynch convicts him of having been privy in advance to Mr.

Winters' intentions whatever they may have been, or at least to his meaning to make an assault upon me, but I

leave to others to determine how much censure an editor deserves for inveigling a weak, noncombatant

man, also a publisher, to a pen of his own to be horsewhipped, if no worse, for the simple printing of what is

While writing this account two theories have occurred to me as possibly true respecting this most remarkable

assault: FirstThe aim may have been simply to extort from me such admissions as in the hands of money

and influence would have sent me to the Penitentiary for libel. This, however, seems unlikely, because any

statements elicited by fear or force could not be evidence in law or could be so explained as to have no force.

The statements wanted so badly must have been desired for some other purpose. SecondThe other theory

has so dark and wilfully murderous a look that I shrink from writing it, yet as in all probability my death at

the earliest practicable moment has already been decreed, I feel I should do all I can before my hour arrives,

at least to show others how to break up that aristocratic rule and combination which has robbed all Nevada of

true freedom, if not of manhood itself. Although I do not prefer this hypothesis as a "charge," I feel that as an

American citizen I still have a right both to think and to speak my thoughts even in the land of Sharon and

Winters, and as much so respecting the theory of a brutal assault (especially when I have been its subject) as

respecting any other apparent enormity. I give the matter simply as a suggestion which may explain to the

proper authorities and to the people whom they should represent, a well ascertained but notwithstanding a

FirstTo terrify me by making me conscious of my own helplessness after making actual though not legal

SecondTo imply that I could save my life only by writing or signing certain specific statements which if

not subsequently explained would eternally have branded me as infamous and would have consigned my

family to shame and want, and to the dreadful compassion and patronage of the rich.

ThirdTo blow my brains out the moment I had signed, thereby preventing me from making any subsequent

FourthPhilip Lynch to be compelled to testify that I was killed by John B. Winters in selfdefence, for the

conviction of Winters would bring him in as an accomplice. If that was the programme in John B. Winters'

mind nothing saved my life but my persistent refusal to sign, when that refusal seemed clearly to me to be the

The remarkable assertion made to me by Mr. Winters, that pity only spared my life on Wednesday evening

last, almost compels me to believe that at first he could not have intended me to leave that room alive; and

why I was allowed to, unless through mesmeric or some other invisible influence, I cannot divine. The more I

reflect upon this matter, the more probable as true does this horrible interpretation become.

The narration of these things I might have spared both to Mr. Winters and to the public had he himself

observed silence, but as he has both verbally spoken and suffered a thoroughly garbled statement of facts to

appear in the Gold Hill News I feel it due to myself no less than to this community, and to the entire

independent press of America and Great Britain, to give a true account of what even the Gold Hill News has

pronounced a disgraceful affair, and which it deeply regrets because of some alleged telegraphic mistake in

Though he may not deem it prudent to take my life just now, the publication of this article I feel sure must

compel Gen. Winters (with his peculiar views about his right to exemption from criticism by me) to resolve

on my violent death, though it may take years to compass it. Notwithstanding I bear him no ill will; and if W.

C. Ralston and William Sharon, and other members of the San Francisco mining and milling Ring feel that he

above all other men in this State and California is the most fitting man to supervise and control Yellow Jacket

matters, until I am able to vote more than half their stock I presume he will be retained to grace his present

Meantime, I cordially invite all who know of any sort of important villainy which only can be cured by

exposure (and who would expose it if they felt sure they would not be betrayed under bullying threats), to

communicate with the PEOPLE'S TRIBUNE; for until I am murdered, so long as I can raise the means to

publish, I propose to continue my efforts at least to revive the liberties of the State, to curb oppression, and to

[It does seem a pity that the Sheriff was shut out, since the good sense of a general of militia and of a

prominent editor failed to teach them that the merited castigation of this weak, halfwitted child was a thing

that ought to have been done in the street, where the poor thing could have a chance to run. When a journalist

maligns a citizen, or attacks his good name on hearsay evidence, he deserves to be thrashed for it, even if he

is a "noncombatant" weakling; but a generous adversary would at least allow such a lamb the use of his legs

87. C. CONCERNING A FRIGHTFUL ASSASSINATION THAT WAS NEVER CONSUMMATED, page = 224