I hadn’t forgotten my old mining habits. One day I picked up a number of fragments of quartz, broken by the weather from a ledge that had a likely look. I took these to our camp, crushed them in a primitive way, “panned” the product and stood aghast with astonishment at the result. A long, heavy “tail” of gold in the pan told that the rock must be worth hundreds of dollars a ton.
There is something about gold—just the metal—that makes people forget everything else in life. A little prospecting showed us that we were in the heart of a great gold-bearing district, with surface croppings of such value that all a man needed for working capital was a pick, a pan, a couple of hammers and a mule to carry the rock to water, where it could be hand-crushed and washed. Even the mule could be dispensed with if one did not mind the labor of shouldering an ore sack for a short distance every day. We were rich and gold-mad.
Realizing the importance of the discovery I sent one of my companions to collect enough men to form a mining district under the existing laws. These assembled, we perfected an organization and elected officers. Somewhere in the Book of Genesis mention is made of a river in Paradise running through the land of “Havilah, a country rich in gold.” We were shy on the river, but the balance of the quotation seemed appropriate enough, so I christened the proposed town “Havilah.” The district was called “Clear Creek,” under which title it was famous for many a year. Also I showed judgment and forethought in a real estate way, claiming and staking off a natural townsite.
I didn’t dare to go down into the settled district to purchase anything like machinery, for fear of arrest, but we constructed rude arastras, primitive Spanish quartz mills, and began to turn out gold bullion in astonishing amounts. Something concerning a new gold discovery began to leak out and occasional prospectors joined our camp. We had no end of provisions, plenty of fresh meat and sort of kept open house. All in all, it was about the best-ordered mining camp I ever saw.
But the big boom for the camp came through my old journalistic enemy, the American Flag. Word came to it somehow that I was located in the mountains back of Kern City, ostensibly engaged in mining. Straightway it gave me a terrific blast, claiming that mining was only a cloak for a new piece of deviltry I was hatching. The effect of this was that it located me for a lot of my Southern friends who really believed that I was organizing a band to fight through to Texas, and as a consequence they began to swarm into Havilah in large numbers. Nearly all my fighting men of the Chapman were among the first arrivals. Also several Northern men, fired by the word “gold,” took a chance of entering into an alleged stronghold of conspirators. They would have marched into hell, just the same, for gold. They had the same reception as anyone else. Far up in the mountains, away from strife and faction, these men mingled in perfect amity and good fellowship. It was another illustration of what I said before—that if the people had been left to settle matters in their own way there never would have been a Civil War. Chattel slavery in the South was fast dying at the root. Another decade or so would have seen its finish. And the real question of slavery was not settled at all. There have grown up other forms of slavery far more odious and soul-destroying than the mild system maintained, with very few exceptions, in the South. It was the agitators and demagogues on both sides, who never fought at all, upon whom must rest the responsibilities of our war, just the same as in nearly every other historic struggle. Strangely enough, these men are commonly canonized, instead of being held up to the execration of mankind.
Havilah was fast becoming a large proposition. Its trade was eagerly sought for and pack trains of supplies were arriving daily. But the more it grew, the louder and longer raved the American Flag about the band of outlaws in the mountains, headed by the piratical Harpending. So specific were the denunciations that at length they seriously attracted the notice of the Government. Finally a detachment of troops stationed at Visalia was dispatched to drive us out.
We had timely notice of this kindly intention. I had been recognized as a sort of leader, partly because of my position as the largest owner of the district, partly because of the newspaper notoriety, which had given me the character of a daring adventurer—the character that impresses the rough natures of a mining camp. All the miners were called together. Lookouts were stationed down the canyon to give notice of the approach of a hostile force. I had decided to adopt Albert Sidney Johnston’s strategy and try the moral effect of a surprise.
But the wily soldier in command did not come by the usual route. Early in the morning we heard the sound of cavalry tramping down the mountain side. We were prepared for that. The officer and his troopers, about eighty in all, walked into an ambuscade and suddenly found themselves confronted by four times their number, raw-boned, bearded, athletic miners, each armed to the teeth. I stepped forward, saluted the officer, who seemed a trifle rattled, congratulated him on being just in time for breakfast and carelessly asked him if he had lost his way.
The officer replied, in a surly fashion, that his business was to disperse a band of cut-throats and rebels. I answered that he could hardly mean us; that we were peacefully pursuing a lawful occupation; that we were ready to submit to legal authority, but must first know the nature of our offense. I urged him to examine the camp, interview some well-known Union men who were with us and satisfy himself that we were neither outlaws nor rebels. There was nothing for him to do but make the best of a bad bargain. The troopers rode to camp with their miner escort, had a jolly good breakfast, with more or less joshing on either side, and that part of the incident closed in a happy way. But the officer declined to be comforted. He was clearly mortified at our successful strategy.