Chapter VII

Monotonous Life at Weaver’s Creek--Dry Diggings
Uncertain--Discovery of a Rich Ravine--Great Results of One Day’s
Labour--Invasion of my Ravine--Weber and Dalor--The Indian Mode of
Trading--A Mystery--Settlement of Weaverville--Price of Gold-dust
in the Winter of 1848--Gambling--Cost of Provisions--Opening of the
Spring--Big Bar--Attack of the Land Scurvy--Symptoms and
Treatment--Lucky Discovery--Progress of Culoma--Arrival of the
First Steamer--Broadway Dandies wielding Pick and Shovel--Indian
Outrages--Capture and Execution of Redskins.

Our life at Weaver’s Creek became exceedingly monotonous. There were about three hundred people then at work at this point, and whenever a new ravine was opened, everybody swarmed to it, and in a few days it was “dug out.” Moreover, dry digging is exceedingly uncertain. Where it is necessary to search among the crevices of rocks to find the gold deposits, one may at times dig and delve through the whole day without striking a single deposit of gold. In this respect they are entirely different and far inferior in point of certainty to the wet diggings upon the banks of rivers. In the latter, where the gold is nearly equally distributed among the earth, a certain amount of labour will produce a certain reward; while in the former, success may not attend the operations of the gold-digger. There is a remarkable peculiarity in the gold of all dry diggings, which is, that the formation of gold in every ravine is different, so much so that one acquainted with the character of the gold in any certain region can easily tell by a glance at a piece of gold from what ravine it was extracted. This can only be accounted for on the theory, that in a narrow and deep ravine, where the water runs swiftly during the rainy season, the gold courses further over the rocks, and is more thoroughly washed, while in a shallow and wide ravine, where but little water runs, it settles upon the first rock on which it strikes, and retains its distinctive marks.

Tired of the old ravines, I started one morning into the hills, with the determination of finding a new place, where I could labour without being disturbed by the clang of picks and shovels around me. Striking in an easterly direction, I crossed a number of hills and gorges, until I found a little ravine about thirty feet in length embosomed amid low undulating hills. It attracted my attention, I know not why, and clearing off a place about a yard in length, I struck the soil which contained the gold. The earth on the top was a light black gravel, filled with pebbly stones, which apparently contained no gold. Below this was another gravel of a reddish colour, and in which the fine particles of gold were so mingled that they shone and sparkled through the whole of it. A little pool of water, which the rains had formed just below me, afforded a favourable place to test the earth, and scooping up a pan-ful, I took it down and washed it, and it turned out about two dollars. I continued digging and washing until I reached a slate rock, in the crevices of which I found many little nests or clusters of gold, some of them containing eight or ten dollars. These latter were intermixed with a heavy red clay from which the gold was almost inseparable. The gold was of the finest quality, both in size and richness, and I flattered myself that I had here at last found a quiet place, where I could labour alone and undisturbed, and appropriate to myself the entire riches of the whole ravine. When I reached and had explored the surface of the slate rock, I tried the experiment of breaking the rock itself into small pieces and washing it. This proved as rich as the red gravel, turning out two dollars to a pan-ful. The results of that day’s labour were one hundred and ninety dollars worth of gold dust, and I returned to the house with a most profound secrecy resting on my countenance, and took good care not to expose to my companions the good luck I had experienced. But either my eyes betrayed me, or some prying individual had watched me, for the next morning, when busily at work in my ravine, I found myself suddenly surrounded by twenty good stout fellows, all equipped with their implements of labour. I could say or do nothing. Pre-emption rights are things unknown here, and the result of the matter was, that in three days the little ravine, which I had so fondly hoped would be my own property, was turned completely upside down. About ten thousand dollars worth of gold dust was extracted from it, from which I realized a little over a thousand. Merely the body of the ravine, however, was dug, and after it was entirely deserted, many a day I went to it, solitary and alone, and took from one to three ounces out of its banks. In the early discovery of the mines, and the first working of the “dry diggings,” it was supposed that the gold existed only in the beds of the ravines. But since a more philosophical idea of the cause of gold deposits has been entertained, it is found that, in many cases, depending upon the character of the soil, the banks upon each side prove richer in gold than the ravines themselves. The gold having descended from the hillsides, should it before reaching the ravine strike a rocky gravel or hard clay, will remain there instead of descending farther; and thus it happens universally, that when gold is found upon the sides or banks of a ravine, the soil is of one of these descriptions. Accident has proved this oftener than scientific reasoning. When we first reached Weaver’s Creek, we found, in the very heart of the settlement, a ravine which seemed to have been completely “dug out,” so much so that, by labouring in it, it would not yield five dollars a day to a man. Report said that nearly one hundred thousand dollars had been taken from it about the time of its discovery, and it was supposed there was little or none remaining. One day, however, about the first of February, an ignorant Irishman sank a hole about six feet deep on the bank, twelve feet from the bed of the ravine. He struck a hard, solid white clay, through which gold could scarcely penetrate, and by washing it, took out the first day nearly one hundred dollars worth of gold. This, of course, attracted crowds to the old ravine, and before a week had elapsed, nearly fifteen thousand dollars had been taken from the place which was supposed to be entirely worthless. Among the prizes was one piece weighing twenty-eight ounces, and valued at four hundred and forty-eight dollars; and I have no doubt that to this day the banks of many of the ravines are as rich in the pure metal as were their beds on the first discovery.

The diggings upon Weaver’s Creek were first wrought by a German, Charles M. Weber, a _ranchero_ on the San Joaquin, who went thither in the early part of June. He carried with him articles of trade, and soon gathered around him a thousand Indians, who worked for him in consideration of the necessaries of life and of little trinkets that so win an Indian’s heart. He was soon joined by William Dalor, a _ranchero_ near Sutter’s Fort, and the two, together with the labour of the Indians, soon realized at least fifty thousand dollars. By this time, individual labourers began to come in, and one of Dalor’s men one morning started into the hills for newer and fresher diggings. He struck what was formerly called the “dry diggings,” but which now goes by the euphonious name of “Hang-town,” from the circumstance I have previously related as having occurred there.

Indians still frequent this vicinity in considerable numbers, having acquired a taste for the luxuries of mouldy bread, putrescent codfish, and jerked beef, which form so large a portion of the stock in trade of the provision-dealers who supply the miners. I have often been amused to witness the singular manner in which they make their purchases. When the gold was first discovered, they had very little conception of its value, and would readily exchange handfuls of it for any article of food they might desire, or any old garment gaudy enough to tickle their fancy. Latterly, however, they have become more careful, and exhibit a profounder appreciation of the worth of the precious metal. When they desire to make any purchases from a dealer, they usually go in a party of ten or twelve, and range themselves in a circle, sitting on the ground, a few yards distant from the shop, and then in a certain order of precedence, known to themselves, but not laid down in the learned Selden, they proceed to the counter in rotation, and make their purchases, as follows: placing on the palm of the hand a small leaf or piece of paper, on which is perhaps a tea-spoonful of gold dust, the Indian stalks up to the dealer, and pointing first at his _dust_ in hand, and then at whatever article he may desire, gives a peculiar grunt--_Ugh!_--which is understood to mean an offer; if the dealer shakes his head, the Indian retires, and returns with a little more gold dust, going through the same ceremony continually until a sufficient amount is offered, when the dealer takes it and hands over the coveted article. The only conceivable object of this mode of proceeding is that the poor creatures have been frequently plundered, and are afraid to trust themselves alone with a white man with too much gold upon their persons. Another peculiarity is, that if, for instance, they should purchase half a dozen hard biscuits for a teaspoonful of gold, and want several dozen, they will return with one tea-spoonful more, obtain six biscuits and retire, and then return again, and so on until they have obtained the desired quantity.

About the first of February, the rains and snows commenced again with four-fold vigour, and continued through the whole month with little or no interruption. Inured, however, by our previous experience, and stimulated by an ambition that will carry men through dangers and difficulties which else would appal them, we continued our labours in right good earnest, and returned many a night to our log hut drenched with the rains that had been pouring on us through the day. A blazing log fire, and a pipe of tobacco, compensated us for the hardships we had endured, and we were ready, the next morning, to undergo the same for the like object. One morning, after a severe rain storm and swell of the river, I was passing up its banks, and gazing earnestly upon it, when my attention was suddenly arrested by the sight of gold lying scattered over the surface of the shore. I commenced gathering it up, and soon had exhausted it. How it came there I was never able to satisfactorily determine. Some of the pieces, to the weight of two and three dollars, were lying ten feet above the edge of the river’s bank, and every little stone had gathered round it a greater or less quantity. The first day I picked up about four ounces, and waited for another rain. It came that night, and the next morning I found gold there again as plentiful as it had been the day before. In addition to this, I observed, in the crevice of a rock nearly in the centre of the stream, a large deposit; and though it was cold and wintry weather, I bared my nether limbs, and waded in to get it. With my sheath-knife I tore it from the crevice in a very few minutes, and hurried home to dry myself, and learn the extent of my good fortune. I found that the gold I had taken from the river’s bed weighed nearly three ounces. For several days I continued to find gold daily scattered over the surface of the bank, when it suddenly disappeared, and I never saw more of it. How it came there was a mystery which I have never been able to fathom. It was either rained down from the clouds, thrown up by the river in its course, or was washed by the rains from the banks. The latter theory, however, I proved to be incorrect by washing several pans of earth from the bank, which turned out little or nothing; and the only plausible idea I can entertain on the subject is, that it was gold which had been washed from the ravines, carried by the river in its course, and deposited by it on the banks, although this theory very unsatisfactorily accounts for the great distance from the river’s edge at which I found it. But if the latter theory be correct, what must be the richness of the bed of that river into which, for ages past, the ravines that open upon it have been pouring their treasures. As yet, no attempts have been made to dive into its bed,--and I doubt not, when capital and labour are combined for this purpose, immense profits will be realized.

The banks of the creek, which should be called “Weber’s” instead of “Weaver’s,” are well lined with lofty, magnificent oak and pine trees, and the soil along the banks is capable of producing the common articles of agriculture in great profusion. A town, with the name of “Weaverville,” has now been formed upon the direct site of the original settlement,--although there are miles of extent on the banks of the creek which are probably rich in gold, and will one day prove as great a fortune as already has the site of the present town of Weaverville.

Among the peculiarities consequent upon the extraction of gold, may be mentioned the fact, that in Weaver’s Creek, during the whole winter of 1848, the price paid in silver or gold coin for gold dust was from six to eight dollars per ounce. I, myself, bought some hundred ounces of a Mexican for six dollars and a half. The only object in selling gold for coin was to procure specie for gambling purposes,--and gambling was the life of two-thirds of the residents there at that period. At the same time, communication with San Francisco and Sacramento City having been closed by the rains, provisions were enormously high. A few items will give an idea of gold-mine prices. Flour was selling at one dollar per pound, dried beef at two dollars, sugar at a dollar, coffee seventy-five cents, molasses four dollars per gallon, pork two dollars per pound, miserable New England rum at fifty cents per glass or eight dollars per bottle, and tobacco at two dollars per pound. At these prices, the trader and transporter realized a greater profit from the miner’s labour than the miner himself; but provisions must be had, and no price, however great, could deter the labourer from purchasing the necessaries of life.

About the first of March, the long and severe winter broke up, and, tired of our winter quarters, our party made a division of the remaining provisions and cooking utensils, broke up housekeeping, and most of us started for the Middle Fork. Our travel was not diversified by anything new or strange, and, upon striking the river, we proceeded up it about eighteen miles above the “Spanish Bar” to a bar opposite the “Big Bar,” where we pitched our camp, constructed a machine, and commenced operations.

The soil on this bar was exceedingly sandy, and the surface was covered with huge imbedded rocks, which required an immense amount of severe manual labour to remove. Below this was a red gravel, which was united with gold, the washing of which turned out about four ounces per day to each man. I was again dreaming of fortune and success, when my hopes were blasted by an attack of a terrible scourge that wrought destruction through the northern mines during the winter of 1848. I allude to the land scurvy. The exposed and unaccustomed life of two-thirds of the miners, and their entire subsistence upon salt meat, without any mixture of vegetable matter, had produced this disease, which was experienced more or less by at least one-half of the miners within my knowledge. Its symptoms and progress may not be uninteresting. It was first noticed in the “Dry Diggings,” where, about the middle of February, many persons were rendered unable to walk by swellings of the lower limbs, and severe pains in them. It was at first supposed to be rheumatism, and was treated as such. But it withstood the most powerful applications used in that complaint, and was finally decided to be scurvy. So long as the circumstances which caused it continued, the disease made rapid progress. Many, who could obtain no vegetables, or vegetable acids, lingered out a miserable existence and died,--while others, fortunate enough to reach the settlements where potatoes and acids could be procured, recovered. I noticed its first attack upon myself by swelling and bleeding of the gums, which was followed by a swelling of both legs below the knee, which rendered me unable to walk; and for three weeks I was laid up in my tent, obliged to feed upon the very articles that had caused the disease, and growing daily weaker, without any reasonable prospect of relief. There were, at that time, about eight hundred persons at work on the river, and hoping to get some medicine, I despatched one of my companions one morning, with instructions to procure me, if possible, a dose of salts, and to pay for it any price that should be asked. He returned at night with the consoling news that he had failed, having found only two persons who had brought the article with them, and they refused to sell it at any price.

I was almost in despair: with only a blanket between myself and the damp, cold earth, and a thin canvass to protect me from the burning sun by day, and the heavy dews by night, I lay day after day enduring the most intense suffering from pain in my limbs, which were now becoming more swollen, and were turning completely black. Above me rose those formidable hills which I must ascend ere I could obtain relief. I believe I should have died, had not accident discovered the best remedy that could have been produced. In the second week of my illness, one of our party, in descending the hill on which he had been deer-hunting, found near its base, and strewn along the foot-track, a quantity of beans which sprouted from the ground, and were in leaf. Some one, in descending the hill with a bag of them on his back, had probably dropped them. My companion gathered a quantity and brought them into camp. I had them boiled, and lived entirely on them for several days, at the same time using a decoction of the bark of the Spruce tree. These seemed to operate magically, and in a week after commencing the use of them, I found myself able to walk,--and as soon as my strength was partially restored, I ascended the hill, and with two companions walked into Culoma, and by living principally upon a vegetable diet, which I procured by paying three dollars per pound for potatoes, in a very short time I recovered.

I found matters very much changed at Culoma; the little settlement of three houses had grown into a large town. Buildings were being erected in all parts of it, and hundreds of tents whitened the plain. The steamer Oregon had just arrived at San Francisco on her first trip upward from Panama; and the fleet of sailing vessels loaded with passengers, attracted by the report of the gold discovery in the United States, had begun to arrive. All sorts of people, from the polished Broadway dandy, who never handled an instrument heavier than a whalebone walking-stick, to the sturdy labourer who had spent his life in wielding the pickaxe and the shovel, had come to California, and all for one common object,--to dig gold; and one class was as enthusiastic, and anticipated as good success, as the other. As there were no such accommodations as hotels at Culoma, everybody was living in tents, cooking their own provisions, and getting ready to pack up and proceed to the Middle Fork. Some of them had commenced working on the banks of the South Fork in the immediate vicinity of the mill, and could be daily seen sweating (for the weather by this time had become exceedingly warm) under a load of tools sufficient to dig a whole canal, on their way to, or coming from their places of labour. As I have before said, very little gold has been found in the vicinity of the mill,--and the gold-diggers there, at that time, were rewarded by not more than five dollars per day.

Most of them had brought with them some one of the many newfangled machines that were manufactured in the United States, after the reports of the gold discovery reached there, like the razors of Pindar, “to sell.” They were of all imaginable shapes and sizes, some of them appearing most admirably adapted to the churning of butter. These were tried and found to fail, and have so far been invariably abandoned for the common rocker, which is, as I have before said, the best machine to be used in connexion with mere manual labour. Many of the new-comers were most wofully disappointed at the appearance of things, finding that gold, instead of lying scattered in “big lumps” over the earth’s surface, was only to be obtained by the most severe toil.

About this time, reports were daily arriving at the settlements of outrages committed by Indians upon whites in the vicinity of the North and Middle Forks. A report which afterwards proved to be strictly correct, came to the mill, that a party of Indians had descended to the camp of five white men on the North Fork, while the latter were engaged in labour, had broken the locks of their rifles which were in their tents, and then fallen upon and cruelly beaten and murdered them. A large party, headed by John Greenwood, a son of the celebrated mountaineer, was immediately mustered at the mill, and started in pursuit of the Indians, and tracked them to a large Indian _rancheria_ on Weaver’s Creek. This they attacked, and after killing about twenty of them, took thirty prisoners, and marched to the mill. Here they underwent a trial, and six of them, having been proved to have been connected with the party who killed the white men, were sentenced to be shot. They were taken out in the afternoon after their arrival, followed by a strong guard, and, as was anticipated, a little distance ahead being allowed them, they ran. They had no sooner started than the unerring aim of twenty mountaineers’ rifles was upon them, and the next moment five of the six lay weltering in their blood. Soon after this, several expeditions were fitted out, who scoured the country in quest of Indians, until now a redskin is scarcely ever seen in the inhabited portion of the northern mining region. Their _rancherias_ are deserted, the graves of their ancestors are left to be desecrated by the white man’s foot-print, and they have gone,--some of them to seek a home beyond the rugged crest of the Sierra Nevada, while others have emigrated to the valley of the Tulares, and the whole race is fast becoming extinct.

After having remained some time at the mill, I returned to my old residence at Weaver’s Creek. I found it deserted; the opening of the warm spring weather had drawn away the entire population, both of our settlement and the “Dry Diggings,” to the richer _placers_ of the golden rivers. I remained but a few days, when I proceeded to Sacramento City.