camping-ground, from the numbers of signs of old
fires. The mules seemed to know it too, for they all
stopped and commenced picking the grass. The
Mexicans, who were riding tough little Californian
horses, immediately dismounted and began to unpack,
working with such vigour that one might have thought
they were doing it for a wager.
Two men unpack a mule together. They first throw
over his head a broad leathern belt, which hangs over
his eyes to blind him and keep him quiet ; then, one
man standing on each side, they cast off the numerous
hide ropes with which the cargo is secured ; and when
all is cast loose, each man removes his half of the
cargo and places it on the ground. Another mule is
then led up to the same spot, and unpacked in like
manner ; the cargo being all ranged along the ground
in a row, and presenting a very miscellaneous assort-
ment of sacks of flour, barrels of pork or brandy, bags
of sugar, boxes of tobacco, and all sorts of groceries
and other articles. When all the cargoes have been
unpacked, they then take off the aparejos, or large
Mexican pack-saddles, examining the back of each
mule to see if it is galled. The pack-saddles are all set
down in a row parallel with the cargo, the girth and
saddle-cloth of each being neatly folded and laid on
the top of it. The place where the mules have been
unpacked, between the saddles and the cargo, is
covered with quantities of raw-hide ropes and other
lashings, which are all coiled up and stowed away in
a heap by themselves.
198 THE "BELL-HORSE."
Every mule, as his saddle is taken off, refreshes
himself by rolling about in the dust ; and when all are
unsaddled, the bell-horse is led away to water. The
mules all follow him, and are left to their own de-
vices till morning.
The bell-horse of a train of mules is a very curious
institution. He is generally an old white horse, with
a small bell hung round his neck. He carries no
cargo, but leads the van in tow of a Mexican. The
mules will follow him through thick and thin, but
without him they will not move a step.
In the morning the mules are hunted up and driven
into camp, when they are tied together in a row
behind their pack-saddles, and brought round one by
one to be saddled and packed. To pack a mule well,
considerable art is necessary. His load must be so
divided that there is an equal weight on each side,
else the mule works at great disadvantage. If his load
is not nicely balanced and tightly secured, he cannot
so well pick his way along the steep mountain trails,
and, as not unfrequently happens, topples over and
rolls down to some place from which no mule returns.
CHAPTER XII.
START FOR FOSTER'S BAR A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL PORTRAIT-
PAINTING FLATTERING LIKENESSES FOSTER'S BAR SLEEPING
UNDER DIFFICULTIES CAMPING OUT CAMP OF A FLAMING
COMPANY DANGERS OF SKETCHING TAKEN FOR A HIGHWAYMAN,
AND RAISED TO THE RANK OF COLONEL A LONG JOURNEY FOR
NOTHING A SOIREE MUSICALS IN THE FOREST.
I ARRIVED about dusk at a ranch called the " Grass
Valley House," situated in a forest of pines. It was
a clapboard house, built round an old log-cabin which
formed one corner of the building, and was now the
private apartment of the landlord and his wife. I
was here only six miles from Foster's Bar, and set out
for that place in the morning ; but I made a mistake
somewhere, and followed a wrong trail, which led me
to a river, after walking six or seven miles without
meeting any one of whom I could ascertain whether
I was going right or not. The descent to the river
was very steep, and as I went down I had misgivings
that I was all wrong, and should have to come up
again, but I expected at least to find some one there
who could put me right. After scrambling down the
200 A HARD ROAD TO TRAVEL.
best way I could, and reaching the river, I was dis-
appointed to find nothing but the remains of an old
tent ; there was not even a sign of any work having
been done there. The river flowed among huge
masses of rock, from which the banks rose so steep
and rugged, that to follow the course of the stream
seemed out of the question. I thought, however,
that I could distinguish marks here and there on the
rocks, as if caused by travelling over them, and these
I followed with considerable difficulty for about half
a mile, when they stopped at a place where the black-
ened rocks, the remains of burned wood, and a lot of
old sardine-boxes, showed that some one had been
camped. Here I fancied I could make out a trail
going straight up the face of the hill, on the same
side of the river by which I had come down. It
looked a hard road to travel, but I preferred trying
it to retracing my steps, especially as I judged it
would be a shorter way back to the house I had
started from.
I got on very well for a short distance, but very
soon lost all sign of a trail. I was determined, how-
ever, to make my way up, which I did by dint of
catching hold of branches of trees and bushes ; and on
my hands I had to place my greatest dependence, for
the loose soil was covered with large stones, which
gave way under my feet, and which I could hear
rolling down far below me. Sometimes I came to a
bare face of rock, up which I had to work my passage
by means of the crevices and projecting ledges. It
RATHER THIRSTY. 201
was useless to consider whether more formidable
obstacles were still before me; my only chance was
to go ahead, for if I had attempted to go down
again, I should have found the descent rather too easy,
and probably have broken my neck. It was dread-
fully hot, and I was carrying my blankets slung over
my shoulder, which, catching on trees and rocks,
impeded my progress considerably ; and though I was
in pretty good condition for this sort of work, I had
several times to get astride of a tree and take a
spell.
At last, after a great deal of scrambling and climb-
ing, my shins barked, my clothes nearly torn off my
back, and my eyes half scratched out by the bushes,
completely blown, and suffocated with the heat, I
arrived at a place where I considered that I had got
over the worst of it, as the ascent seemed to become
a little more practicable. I was dying of thirst, and
would have given a very long price for a drink of
water ; but the nearest water I expected to find was
at a spring about five miles off, which I had passed
in the morning. I could not help thinking what a
delightful thing a quart pot of Bass's pale ale would
be, with a lump of ice in it ; then I thought I would
prefer a sherry cobbler, but I could not drink that
fast enough ; and then it seemed that a quart pot of
ale would not be enough, that I would like to drink
it out of a bucket. I quaffed in imagination gigantic
goblets, one after another, of all sorts of delicious
fluids, but none of them did me any good ; and so I
202 PORTRAIT-PAINTING.
concluded that I had better think of something else
till I reached the spring.
The rest of the mountain was not very hard travel-
ling, and when once on the top of the range, I struck
off in a direction which I thought would hit my old
trail. I very soon got on to it, and after half an
hour's walking, I found the spring, where, as the Mis-
sourians say, "you may just bet your life," I did
drink.
It was about three o'clock, and I thought my safest
plan was to return to the house I had started from
in the morning, about six miles off, where, on my
arrival, I learned that I had been misled by an Indian
trail, and had travelled far out of the right direction.
It was too late to make a fresh start that day, so I
was doomed to pass another night here, and in the
evening amused myself by sketching a train of pack-
mules which had camped near the house.
I was just setting off in the morning, when two or
three men, who had seen me sketching the evening
before, came and asked me to take their likenesses for
them. As they were very anxious about it, I made
them sit down, and very soon polished them all off,
improving so much on their personal appearance, that
they evidently had no idea before that they were such
good-looking fellows, and expressed themselves highly
satisfied. As I was finishing the last one, an old
fellow came in, who, seeing what was up, was seized
with a violent desire to have his sweet countenance
" pictur'd off" likewise, to send to his wife. It struck
A FLATTEEING LIKENESS. 203
me that his wife must be a woman of singular taste
if she ever wished to see his face again. He was just
about the ugliest man I ever saw in my life. He
wanted to comb his hair, poor fellow, and make him-
self look as presentable as possible ; but I had no
mercy on him, and, making him sit down as he was,
I did my best to represent him about fifty per cent
uglier than he really was. He was in great distress
that he had not better clothes on for the occasion ;
so, to make up for caricaturing his features, I im-
proved his costume, and gave him a very spicy black
coat, black satin waistcoat, and very stiff" stand-up
collars. The fidelity of the likeness he never doubted,
being so lost in admiration of his dress, that he seemed
to think the face a matter of minor importance alto-
gether.
I did not take many portraits in the mines ; but,
from what little experience I had, I invariably found
that men of a lower class wanted to be shown in the
ordinary costume of the nineteenth century that is
to say, in a coat, waistcoat, white shirt and neckcloth ;
while gentlemen miners were anxious to appear in
character, in the most ragged style of California dress.
I went to Foster's Bar after dinner with a man
who was on his way there from Downieville, a town
about thirty miles up the river. He told me that he
and his partner had gone there a few months before,
and had worked together for some time, when they
separated, his partner joining a company which had
averaged a hundred dollars a-day to each man ever
204 SLEEPING UNDER DIFFICULTIES.
since, while my friend had bought a share in another
company, and, after working hard for six weeks, had
not, as he expressed it, made enough to pay for his
grub. Such is mining.
Foster's Bar is a place about half a mile long, with
the appearance of having slipped down off the face of
the mountains, and thus formed a flat along the side
of the river. The village or camp consisted of a few
huts and cabins ; and all around on the rocks, wherever
it suited their convenience, were parties of miners
camping out.
I could only see one place which purported to be a
hotel, and to it I went. It was a large canvass-house,
the front part of which was the bar-rooin, and behind
it the dining-room. Alongside of the former an addi-
tion had been made as a sleeping-apartment, and here,
when I felt inclined to turn in about ten o'clock, I
was accommodated with a cot.
A gambling-room in San Francisco is a tolerably
quiet place, where little else is heard but good music
or the chinking of dollars, and where, if it were neces-
sary, one could sleep comfortably enough. But a
gambling-room in a small camp in the mines is a very
different affair. There not so much ceremony is
observed, and the company are rather more apt to
devote themselves to the social enjoyment of drink-
ing, quarrelling, and kicking up a row generally. In
this instance the uproar beat all my previous expe-
rience, and sleeping was out of the question. The
bar-room, I found, was also the gambling-room of the
CAMPING OUT. 205
diggings. Four or five monte tables were in full blast,
and the room was crowded with all the rowdies of the
place. As the night wore on and the brandy began
to tell, they seemed to be having a general fight, and
I half expected to see some of them pitched through
the canvass into the sleeping apartment ; or perhaps
pistols might be used, in which case I should have
had as good a chance of being shot as any one else.
I managed to drop off asleep during a lull in the
storm ; but when I awoke at daylight, it was only
then finally subsiding. I found that some man had
broken a monte bank, and, on the strength of his good
fortune, had been treating the company to an unli-
mited supply of brandy all night, which fully account-
ed for the row ; but I did not fancy such sleeping-
quarters, and made up my mind to camp out while I
remained in those diggings.
I selected a very pretty spot at the foot of a ravine,
in which was a stream of water; and, buying a tin
coffee-pot and some tea and sugar, I was completely
set up. There was a baker and butcher in the camp,
so I had very little trouble in my cooking arrange-
ments, having merely to boil my pot, and then raking
down the fire with my foot, lay a steak on the embers.
The weather was very hot and dry; but it was
getting late in the season, and I generally awoke in
the morning like the flowers the Irishman sings about
to Molly Bawn, " with their rosy faces wet with dew."
At least as far as the dew is concerned for a rosy face
is a thing not seen in the mines, the usual colour of
206 A BED OF DAHLIAS.
men's faces being a good standard leathery hue, a very
little lighter than that of a penny-piece all rosiness
of cheek, where it ever existed, is driven out by the
hot sun and dry atmosphere.
I found camping out a very pleasant way of living.
With my blankets I made a first-rate awning during
the day ; and if I could not boast of a bed of roses, I
at least had one of dahlias, for numbers of large flowers
of that species grew in great profusion all round my
camp, and these I was so luxurious as to pluck and
strew thickly on the spot where I intended to sleep.
I remained here for about three weeks ; and for two
or three mornings before I left, I woke finding my
blankets quite white with frost. On such occasions
I was more active than usual in lighting my fire and
getting my coffee-pot under a full head of steam ; but
as soon as ever the sun was up, the frost was imme-
diately dispelled, and half an hour after sunrise one
was glad to get into the shade.
On leaving Foster's Bar, I went to a place a few
miles up the river, where some miners were at work,
who had asked me to visit their camp. The river
here flowed through a narrow rocky gorge (a sort of
place which, in California, is called by its Spanish
name a " canon"), and was flumed for a distance of
nearly half a mile ; that is to say, it was carried past
in an aqueduct supported on uprights, being raised
from its natural bed, which was thus laid bare and
rendered capable of being worked. It was late when
I arrived, and the party of miners had just stopped
A CAMP ON THE YUBA. 207
work for the day. Some were taking off their wet
boots, and washing their faces in the river; others
were lighting their pipes or cutting up tobacco ; and
the rest were collected round the fire, making bets as
to the quantity of gold which was being dried in an
old frying-pan. This was the result of their day's
work, and weighed four or five pounds. The banks
of the river were so rough and precipitous that, for
want of any level space on which to camp, they had
been obliged to raise a platform of stone and gravel.
On this stood a tent about twenty feet long, which
was strewed inside with blankets, boots, hats, old
newspapers, and such articles. In front of the tent
was a long rough table, on each side of which a young
pine-tree, with two or three legs stuck into it here and
there, did duty as a bench, some of the bark having
been chipped off the top side, by way of making it an
easy seat. At the foot of the rocks, close to the table,
an immense fire was blazing, presided over by a darky,
who was busy preparing supper; for where so many
men messed together, it was economy to have a pro-
fessional cook, though his wages were frequently higher
than those paid to a miner. A quarter of beef hung
from the limb of a tree ; and stowed away, in beautiful
confusion, among the nooks and crannies of the rocks,
were sacks, casks, and boxes containing various articles
of provisions.
Within a few feet of us, and above the level of the
camp, the river rushed past in its wooden bed, spin-
ning round, as it went, a large water-wheel, by means
208 A VERY SUSPICIOUS APPEARANCE.
of which a constant stream of water was pumped up
from the diggings and carried off in the flume. The
company consisted of eight members. They were all
New Yorkers, and had been brought up to professional
and mercantile pursuits. The rest of the party were
their hired men, who, however, were upon a perfect
social equality with their employers.
When it was time to turn in, I was shown a space
on the gravelly floor of the tent, about six feet by
one and a half, where I might stretch out and dream
that I dwelt in marble halls. About a dozen men slept
in the tent, the others lying outside on the rocks.
My intention was from this camp to go on to Downie-
ville, about forty miles up the river ; but I had first to
return to Foster's Bar for some drawing-paper which
I had ordered from Sacramento.
On my way I passed a most romantic little bridge,
formed by two pine trees, which had been felled so as
to span a deep and thickly wooded ravine. I sat
down among the bushes a short distance off the trail,
and was making a sketch of the place, when presently
a man came along riding on a mule. I was quite aware
that I should have a very suspicious appearance to a
passer-by, and I was in hopes he might not observe me.
I had no object in speaking to him, especially as, had
I hailed him from my ambuscade, he might have been
apt to reply with his revolver.
Just as he was passing, however, and when all I
could see of him was his head and shoulders, his eyes
wandered over the bank at the side of the trail, and
r
< ' \
A GOOD SHOT. 209
he caught sight of my head looking down on him over
the tops of the bushes. He gave a start, as I expected
he would, and addressed me with " Good morning,
Colonel." My promotion to the rank of colonel I
most probably owed to the fact that he thought it
advisable, under the circumstances, to be as concilia-
tory as possible until he knew my intentions. I saw
a good deal of the same man afterwards, but he never
again raised me above the rank of captain. I replied
to his salutation, and he then asked the very natural
question, "What are ye a-doin of over there 1 ?" I
gave an account of myself, which he did nob seem to
think altogether satisfactory, but, after making some
remark on the weather, he passed on.
About an hour later, when I arrived at Foster's
Bar, I found him sitting in a store with some half-
dozen miners, to whom he had been recounting how
he had seen a man concealed in the bushes off the
trail. He expressed himself as having been " awful
skeered," and said that he had his pistol out, and was
thinking of shooting all the time he was speaking to
me. I told him I had mine lying by my side, and
would have returned the compliment, when, by way
of showing me what sort of a chance I should have
stood, he stuck up a card on a tree at about twenty
paces, and put six balls into it one after another out
of his heavy navy revolver. I confessed I could not
beat such shooting as that, and was very well pleased
that he had not taken it into his head to make a
target of me.
210 MOUNTAIN TRAILS.
It seemed that he was an express carrier, and as
his partner had been robbed but a few days before,
very near the place of our meeting, his suspicions of
me were not at all unreasonable.
I was very desirous of seeing a friend of mine who
was mining at a place about twenty miles off, so,
having hired a mule for the journey, I set off early
next morning, intending to return the same night.
My way was through a part of the country very
little travelled, and the trails were consequently very
indistinct, but I got full directions how to find my
way, where to leave the main trail, which side to
take at a place where the trail forked, where I should
cross another, and so on ; also where I should pass an
old cabin, a forked pine-tree, and other objects, by
which I might know that I was on the right road.
The man who gave me my directions said he hardly
expected that I would be able to keep the right trail.
I had some doubts about it myself, but I was deter-
mined to try at all events, and for seven or eight
miles I got along very well, knowing I was right by
the landmarks which I had passed.
The numbers of Indian trails, however, branching
off to right and left were very confusing, being not
a bit less indistinct than the trail I was endea-
vouring to follow. At last I felt certain that I had
gone wrong, but as I fancied I was not going far
out of the right direction, I kept on, and shortly
afterwards came upon a small camp called Toole's
Diggings. I was told here that I had only come five
AN INDIAN CAMP. 211
miles out of my way ; and after dining and getting some
fresh directions, I set out again. Having ridden for
nearly an hour, I came to an Indian camp, situated by
the side of a small stream in a very dense part of the
forest. At first I could see no one but some children
amusing themselves with a swing hung from a branch
of an oak tree, but as I was going past, a number of
Indians came running out from their brush huts.
They were friendly Indians, and had picked up a few
words of English from loafing about the camps of the
miners. The usual style of salutation to them is,
" How d'ye do ' to which they reply in the same
words ; but if you repeat the question, as if you really
wanted to know the state of their health, they invari-
ably answer " fuss-rate." Accordingly, having ascer-
tained that they were all " fuss-rate," I mixed up a
little broken English, some mongrel Spanish, and a
word or two of Indian, and made inquiries as to my
way. In much the same sort of language they
directed me how to go ; and though they seemed dis-
posed to prolong the conversation, I very quickly
bade them adieu and moved on, not being at all
partial to such company.
I followed the dim trail up hill and down dale for
several hours without seeing a human being, and I
felt quite satisfied that I was again off my road, but
I pushed on in hopes of reaching some sort of habita-
tion before dark. At last, in travelling up the side
of a small creek, just as the sun was taking leave of
us, I caught sight of a log-cabin among the pine-
212 A MUSICAL PARTY.
trees. It seemed to have been quite recently built,
so I was pretty sure it was inhabited, and on riding
up I found two men in it, from whom I learned that
I was still five miles from my destination. They
recommended me to stop the night with them, as it
was nearly dark, and the trail was hard enough to find
by daylight.
I saw no help for it ; so, after staking out the mule
where he could pick some green stuff, I joined my
hosts, who were just sitting down to supper. It was
not a very elaborate affair nothing but tea and ham.
They apologised for the meagreness of the turn-out,
and especially for the want of bread, saying that they
had been away for a couple of days, and on their
return found that the Indians had taken the oppor-
tunity to steal all their flour.
We made the most of what we had, however, and
putting a huge log on the fire, we lighted our pipes,
and my entertainers, producing two violins, favoured
me with a selection of Nigger melodies.
They had been mining lately at the place which I
had been trying to reach all day, and in the course of
conversation I found that I had had all my trouble for
nothing, as the man whom I was in search of had a
few days before left the diggings for San Francisco.
The next morning I returned to Foster's Bar, my
friends putting me on a much shorter trail than the
roundabout road I had travelled the day before.
CHAPTER XIII.
STAET FOR DOWNIEVILLE SCENERY AND HABITATIONS ON THE WAY
- DOWNIEVILLE THE HOUSES, SALOONS RESTAURANTS
THEATRES CONCERTS " THE FORKS " " CAPE HORN."
FKOM Foster's Bar I set out for Downieville.
On leaving the river, I had as usual a long hill
to climb, but once on the top, the trail followed the
backbone of the ridge, and was comparatively easy
to travel. It was the main " pack- trail" to Downie-
ville, and, being travelled by all the trains of pack-
mules, was nearly ankle-deep in dust. The soil of
the California mountains is generally very red and
sterile, and has the property of being easily con-
verted into exceedingly fine dust, as red as brick-
dust, or into equally fine mud, according to the
season of the year. At the end of a day's journey
in summer, the colour of a man's face is hardly