Chapter XVI: My Last Mining Adventure

More than satisfied with the experience I had acquired in mining operations in California, I found much difficulty in deciding upon my future course. At one time I made up my mind to try what the fickle jade fortune would do for me in Australia, and even went so far as to engage a passage on board of a ship that would sail for Sydney within a week. An acquaintance and friend, to whom I imparted my intentions, earnestly persuaded me to abandon my projected voyage, and urged me to accompany him to Columbia and take an interest in a very promising mining adventure. My friend said “he felt quite sure that we could make an ounce ($16) a day each with the utmost ease, provided we were favored with sufficient rain. And as the rainy season was close at hand, he was fully satisfied that we should have as plentiful a supply of water as our mining operations would require.” I had heard of these diggings frequently, and that gold was found there in great abundance, but as no stream watered these surface mines, they could only be worked during the rainy season. As my friend’s story was corroborated by my own knowledge of these things, I agreed without much hesitation to abandon my voyage to Australia, and join him in this new mining expedition--mentally resolving, however, that it should be the last of my efforts to become suddenly rich by delving for gold in the mines of California.

We left San Francisco in the latter part of the month of October, ran up the river San Joaquin to Stockton in a stern-wheel steamboat, so crowded with passengers that berths were entirely out of the question, and so we were doomed to get through the night as best we could. And such a night! It is my candid belief that for some unknown reason this particular night lasted as long as thirteen others combined together, and that during its continuance, I visited the infernal regions, upon the pressing invitation of a legion of fiends, all wearing Chinamen’s hats and long tails; moreover, I solemnly assert that almost every winged insect and other creeping thing within a circuit of fifty leagues paid their respects to us on board that miserable little steamboat. I have a faint recollection of invoking the aid of all the saints in the calendar for relief, but they would not hear me, and so I e’en concluded to imitate great Cæsar’s example at the base of Pompey’s statue,--wrap my head in my mantle, and thus resign myself to inexorable fate. As to my friend, I had lost sight of him almost as soon as we entered the boat, and it was no small gratification to think that remorse had caused him to commit suicide, or some such thing. I trusted he had leaped overboard from sheer compunction of conscience for having deluded me into this scrape, and hoped by drowning himself to atone in some measure for his atrocious conduct. Poor fellow! I forgave him, and mentally resolved to get up something pathetic in the shape of an obituary notice, as thus: Departed this life, on the evening of the 25th of October, 1853, by water, one Shad Back, (real name supposed to be Shadrach Bachus,) aged 34, or there-away. The immediate cause of his death was remorse of conscience for having decoyed an unsuspecting and virtuous youth on board of a poor miserable craft crowded with passengers, without berths, without seats, and swarming with vermin of every description, including Chinamen. It is supposed that, in a moment of despair, produced by witnessing the distress of his victim, he jumped into the river and was drowned. His numerous friends cannot but bewail his untimely end, although _some_ are of the opinion that it “sarved him right.” _Requiescat in pace._

I thought I would add to this a verse or so from some suitable ditty, but could hit upon nothing that would reach the case better than a portion of Gray’s Elegy, beginning: “Here rests his head upon this lap of earth,” &c. Now as I was not fully convinced that “his head _did_ rest upon this lap of earth,” I deemed it best to change the text slightly to meet the melancholy occasion, and make it read thus:

_There_ rests beneath the briny wave,
A youth to linen and to soap unknown;
Fair science frowned, but failed to save
This blessed youth, who then went down.

I confess my inability to state distinctly what is meant by the last line; it seemed to rhyme with “unknown,” and as I never had been guilty of an attempt of this kind before, I thought it would do very well as a first effort in the line of poetry. I may as well here explain also, that as I intended to have the whole thing painted upon a good sized shingle, and that nailed upon some tree near the sea shore, I thought it would be a good idea to have the hand with an extended finger painted conspicuously on the shingle, to serve as a pointer towards the ocean; this would sufficiently explain the meaning of “_there rests_,” and “_briny wave_.”

Notwithstanding the bodily torments I underwent during that livelong night, with my head wrapped in a mantle and all the rest of my person fairly given over to the tender mercies of thousands of mosquitos, gnats, sand-flies, ants, ticks, fleas and bed-bugs, I really experienced a strong sensation of relief upon reflecting how very handsomely I had disposed of my friend’s earthly affairs. At the same time I thought it quite possible that my good intentions towards his memory, coupled with the fact of my sufferings, and the pains and penalties I had undergone and was still enduring, would in a measure serve as a sort of atonement for my own sins of omission and commission, beginning far back, at a very early period of my life.

Morning dawned at last, and I was in the very act of gathering the remainder of my person into an upright position, when I heard a voice, proceeding from beneath an immense heap of Chinamen, Irishmen, and niggers, calling me by name, and entreating my assistance to get him upon his legs. I seemed to know the voice very well, but could not recall to mind the owner. Deeming it, however, the duty of a good Christian to help a distressed fellow-creature, I made my way through the crowd to the spot whence the voice issued, and there, to my intense grief and astonishment, I beheld my friend Shad upon his back, actively engaged in repelling, with hands and feet, the united assaults of a strong force, composed of three Irishmen and four Chinese fellows. I became convinced, the moment I saw his position, that if he escaped hanging for his misdemeanors in California, he would become a great general, and an ornament to the military profession. I came to this conclusion because, at the moment I saw him, he was preparing to repel the enemy in a most masterly manner. The allies were _en potence_, and had already attacked and dispersed Shad’s advanced guard, making prisoners of his outlying pickets (his boots and hat) in a gallant manner. Then with a determination to conquer or die, rushed upon the main body. Here, after a most desperate struggle, during which many great deeds of daring were exhibited, the enemy were repulsed with immense loss. Much as I deprecate war in any shape, yet I could not sufficiently admire the calm and collected appearance of Shad, even when in the heat of the _melee_. One particular feat performed by one of Shad’s feet, was observed by me with much astonishment, and it seemed to strike an Irishman very forcibly too, as he honored the performance by immediate prostration. The enemy had retired to a distance, and no doubt held a council of war, and from the disposition of his forces shortly after, I judged his intention was to make a demonstration upon Shad’s front, and then attack him with his whole concentrated force in the rear. My conjecture proved correct. I saw in a moment that this manœvre must prove successful, unless Shad could strengthen his flanks, or form himself into a hollow square. And here it soon became apparent how profoundly my friend had studied the art of attack and defence. A pocket edition of Vauban must have been his constant companion, or he never could have assumed such a formidable appearance as that which he now presented. Like an able general, he had divined the enemy’s intentions, and to meet the emergency, had disposed his person in such a manner that he could swing himself around like a teetotum while lying upon his back, much the same as a long eighteen upon a pivot. In this position, or rather with this rotary motion, Shad was invulnerable. He presented a front in every direction, and utterly defeated the enemy’s most strenuous efforts to capture him.

At this stage of the proceedings, I proposed mediating between the high contending parties, which proposal being acceded to, I forthwith decided the matter in difference, (of which I did not understand one word,) by decreeing a forfeiture of Shad’s boots, the restoration of his hat, and the payment by Shad for two gallons of _red-eye_, to regale the company. This last decision was received with marked respect by all but my poor friend. It was also decreed that the captured boots should belong hereafter to the most _devout_ of the belligerents. Thereupon they were deposited at the feet of a boy from the sod, who, since his prostration, had been seated on deck, curved up in a manner quite curious to behold. He resembled the capital letter G as much as any thing I could think of at the time. Peace having been solemnly proclaimed, I had now an opportunity of better observing my friend Back’s personal appearance. He had never been very remarkable for great personal beauty at any period of his life, and as the late battle had not left him wholly unscathed, it would have proved a great hit indeed to an artist, if he could have taken his likeness just then! When we came on board of this infernal boat, Mr. Shad Back possessed a pair of bright blue eyes, which by some uncommon process had been converted, during the night, into a pair (or rather one and a half) of dismal black ones; his nose, always flat, was now scarcely discernible at all--it had been absolutely beaten into his face; lips as thick and black as those of a Loango negro, and without a tooth in his head to save him from starvation. The fact is, my friend Shad had received as severe a mauling as one man could well stagger under; and although I pitied him truly and sincerely, yet I could not help feeling a sort of disappointment at knowing he was not drowned or dead in some way, and it _is_ a great disappointment to any one, after making extensive preparations to mourn the fate of a man who he hopes will commit suicide. After he has adjusted his face and his garments to represent a decent amount of grief, and above all, after he has composed his epitaph, including therein a scrap of touching poetry, to find that he is not dead nor drowned after all, I say again, _is_ a disappointment and a great shame.

But, supposing “all things are for the best,” I swallowed my chagrin and a cup of (stewed mud) coffee together, resolving to write no man’s epitaph until I had the sexton’s certificate, or officiated in person at the crowner’s or coroner’s inquest.

We landed in Stockton a little before noon of the same day, and thence took passage in a lumber wagon for Columbia, in or near which place the mines were situated. Columbia is in Tuolumne county, near the base of the Sierra Nevada, and contains about 2,000 inhabitants. Its mines are said to be the richest in the State. As we had come here for the express purpose of making a fortune without let or hindrance, and with as little labor as possible, we went to work at once, digging and toiling like men determined to become millionaires within a week at the farthest. In a few days we had collected a large mass of dirt together, and only waited for rain to afford us an opportunity of testing its value. But the rain would not come. Every morning, for at least a month, Shad predicted rain in torrents, and got drunk without delay, in order, as he said, to celebrate an event of so much consequence to our future fortunes. Sure enough, the rain did come at last. It continued to fall somewhat briskly for about an hour, then it ceased for an hour or so. Again it fell for another hour, and thus during the day we had rain and sunshine alternating very systematically indeed, and quite encouragingly.

The amount of water that had fallen barely sufficed to wet the thirsty earth, and it would therefore require just six such rainy days to give us water sufficient to commence our washing operations. Mr. Back’s extensive researches into the science of astronomy enabled him to predict an astonishing amount of wet weather; at least such, he said, was _prognoxicated_ by the _starring ferment_, that really the stars were looking so very wet and uncomfortable, that he could not but pity their condition, especially jolly old Aaron, with the belt. Shad had drunk a more than ordinary quantity of liquor that day, in commemoration, I suppose, of the beginning of the rainy season.

We were now well into the month of December. The rainy season usually commences about the middle of November, and continues almost without intermission until the latter part of February. The year previous it had rained for three months without cessation; now we had no rain. December passed away, and January had come, still the drought continued. Men and animals drooped, the earth had become baked, not a shrub, not a leaf, no, not even a blade of grass could be seen in any direction. A drier season had never been known in that region. Shad had been sober for several days upon compulsion entirely. He could get no more liquor, not because the fiery draught was scarce, but for want of money to pay for it. My own funds were out, gone to liquidate our daily expenses, so that the prospect before us looked gloomy enough. I think, had it been our good fortune to have water, we should have made a very handsome sum out of our large heap of dirt. Without water, to separate the precious metal from the dirt, we could do nothing. About the 20th of January it rained nearly all the morning. “Hope told a flattering tale.” Alas for us poor devils, the rain ceased at noon; this same half a day’s rain cost Shad the only shirt he had for liquor. He said he felt morally certain the rainy season had set in _now_, and that he would have a regular jollification upon the strength of it, if it cost him his shirt, and it _did_ cost him his shirt.

The season was now so far advanced that we could no longer hope for continuous rain, if it came at all; so I resolved, though with reluctance and after much deliberation, to abandon our _pile of gold_ and make the best of my way back to San Francisco. It was all well enough that I should make a resolve of this description, but the principal part of the affair would be to carry it into effect. The _primum mobile_, the _sinews of war_, the _wherewith_ must first be found before I could budge an inch. It was next to impossible to expect aid or counsel from poor Shad. He, good, susceptible soul, had fallen a willing victim to the artful blandishments of an ancient squaw, not so much on account of her great personal attractions as in consequence of her valuable possessions, which consisted of a dilapidated blanket and a keg of whiskey. I was quite charmed with the appearance of the squaw, she so strongly resembled a kangaroo; indeed it was quite a treat to see the pair together, it being problematical which was the most hideous, or the most beastly. I found it utterly useless to remonstrate with him; in fact, he never was in a fitting condition to understand me: so I made up my mind to leave him. Through the kindness of a friend, which was afterwards reciprocated, I was enabled to pay the few debts I had contracted, and to leave Columbia with a trifle of money, which, with economy, enabled me to reach San Francisco in due time.

Thus terminated my last mining adventure in the gold regions of California.