For instance a sailor, who had just arrived from San Francisco, having deserted from his ship, strolled along up the creek one day where two miners were hard at work, and he stood silently watching them for a few minutes. Then transferring his cud of tobacco across from port to starboard, he remarked, in a coarse salt-water, tone of voice:
“Well shipmates, what’s the show for a fellow here, anyhow?”
They pointed out a vacant spot of ground a short distance above (near what is now called Cedar Ravine) and borrowing the necessary tools, Jack was soon at hard work.
Towards evening he returned again, and said that he didn’t know anything about the blasted bed rock, gold, or anything else, and wanted the shipmates to go and take a look at the blasted thing. They went to his claim and found it about five feet long and about three feet in width and four feet in depth. Near the center it was about six inches deeper, and in this depression, which was very rich, they washed out with their cradles for Jack in two hours about $3,500. He was only two days in the mines, for of course he returned to San Francisco immediately to enjoy himself.
Quite a number of similar instances might be given in elucidation of the fact as I have explained it, and if you wish for good luck in mining, always put in your time right where gold is, and nowhere else.
Another instance in illustration of the fact that Dame Fortune is impartial in the distribution of her favors was that of Portuguese Joe, a sailor who came up into the mines from San Francisco early in the spring of ’50. After working around for a few weeks in various localities with but poor success, he concluded to do a little prospecting in some less frequented locality. Purchasing a diminutive donkey, he packed the animal with all necessary tools and supplies and wandered forth. It was not long, however, before he returned to purchase further supplies, and it was surmised from the size and weight of his sack that he had struck it rich. But where? Not a word could be gotten from him, however. He was followed a number of times, but, suspecting it, would go miles out of his way upon his return to deceive them. But Yankee ingenuity could not be foiled by a Portuguese sailor; and one dark night, when he had started to his camp upon the donkey, two old miners followed his trail. The donkey and its rider suspected this, and consequently traveled nearly all night around among the hills, through rocky ravines and dark cañons, but only to find to their great astonishment, when, as they slid down the side of a steep hill near the dawn of day and landed upon a small bar upon the South Fork of the American River, that closely following them and sliding down the deep descent in their rear, were the two old miners.
Well, Joe was a good-natured fellow, and was rather glad of their company, for the bar was very rich and large enough for all. They found, on investigation, upon the richest part of the bar the sand and gravel was only from six inches to a foot in depth, and that the gold was coarse and easily found in the crevices of the slate bed rock, and from this time forward it was called “Portuguese Joe’s Bar.” How much this Portuguese sailor took from his bar was never exactly known, although it was estimated to be about $60,000; nor of his ultimate end, for, alas, his was a sad ending, and of the incidents, being an eye-witness, I have at this late day a very vivid recollection.