The Argonauts of California: being the reminiscenses of scenes and incidents that occurred in California in the early mining days

by Charles Warren Haskins

IN all mining excitements which have occurred upon the coast when new discoveries have been made, the forty-niner was as a general rule the first to be afflicted with the fever, and they would invariably be found in advance, leading their friends to victory or to ruin.

Great numbers caught the fever and stampeded during the Frazier River excitement, as well as of the Salmon River, Gold Bluff, Caribo, Alder Gulch and other occasions, but returned again from their useless search for new fields, not in despair, however, but only to make good preparations for the next occasion that should offer in some other section of the country. Many are at present trying their fortunes in Montana and among the rugged cliffs of the Coeur d’Alene silver regions, in the hope of yet being able to strike at least a paying mine of some kind, if it is nothing more than pewter, sheet-iron, soap, paint or putty, at any rate a paying mine, which will enable them to do once more, before they depart for that happy land where prospecting is an unnecessary business, a full suit of store clothes and a biled shirt, including the usual accompaniments known to civilized society. It is this incentive that gives energy to the old forty-niner, that gives strength and elasticity to his limbs, and which enables him to wander forth through deep and rocky cañons; to climb the steep and rugged cliffs of the mountain ranges, in many cases where younger prospectors are unable to follow, to discover if possible, some location where he can get several colors to pan, and find the bed rock pitching. But the old-timer, however, desires something more than this; for it is not altogether the discovery of a fair prospect, and with the bed rock pitching, that he wants. Not at all. But as Old Syd the Badger, as he was titled, remarked after his return from one of his excursions away north, at the time of the Frazier River excitement:

“Oh, yaas! Thar is gold along up thar, but dogearn it, a feller can’t go nowhar to prospect now, but that he will find that some sneaking tender-foot has been thar a little ahead of him; darned if I don’t hunt for some spot to prospect whar no miner’s pick was ever struck yet.”

When it was suggested to him that there was but one spot where no miner has ever prospected yet, and that that was at the North Pole, he remarked that he’d be dogearned if he didn’t go thar, then, and it was afterwards supposed that he did, for, some years afterwards, some miners upon the Yukon saw the apparition of an old veteran miner packing upon his back an immense roll of blankets, cooking utensils and mining tools, going in the direction of the Pole, and at a distance, the apparition, when seen through the fog, resembled in appearance to a native the huge form of a mastodon wandering in the forests. We have therefore every reason to believe that the first expedition which succeeds in reaching the Pole will find the remains of Old Syd, the Forty-niner, seated comfortably upon the top of the Pole upon which he has put his mining notice, and with his glass carefully examining a piece of it which he has broken off, to see if it contains mineral. The idea seems almost universal among the residents of the State, and in fact the coast, that the remnants of the Advance Guard of gold seekers, the Forty-niners, are at present the poorest class of men of any upon the coast; but this is a mistaken idea, for an investigation as to the facts of the case show conclusively that many of our wealthiest men were Forty-niners, although the great majority of them are now poor. That they were energetic and restless, as well as adventurous is evident, for it was the possession of these traits which made them Forty-niners; for without them, they would certainly have waited for others to take the lead. It is for these reasons that we now find them roaming around upon various portions of the coast for new mines, not that they care so much for the wealth buried there, but this restless spirit of adventure to find wealth is from force of habit, that others who follow them may enjoy the full benefit of it. And for these adventures they were always ready, and at the first alarm when there was wafted through the mining regions a bare suspicion that new diggings had been found somewhere, the blankets were bound up at once with all the necessary paraphernalia, ready at a moment’s notice; and in some cases, they (the blankets) had been so accustomed to be bound up, that (like the chickens of the man who was constantly moving with his family from place to place, whenever they saw the old familiar wagon at the door, would invariably lie down and cross their legs to be tied), upon the first appearance of any unusual noise or confusion, they would immediately roll up, the rope would wiggle and twist itself into a knot around them, and the old coffee-pot, the fry-pan, as well as the pick, pan and shovel from beneath the bunk, would all begin to crawl towards their accustomed place upon the top of the blankets, ready to be tied.

It is remarked throughout the mining regions that these ancient relics of a former period are a tough and a hardy race, healthy and vigorous, and are capable of standing as much fatigue and severe labor as the great majority of younger men; the reasons for this, of course, are that those who remain of that great multitude who first arrived here, took better care of themselves, as a rule; for if they had not, they would not now be here. This fact, therefore, is a fair illustration of the truth of the Darwinian theory of the survival of the fittest.

To an old-timer of this day, it is pleasant to wander amid the old scenes where we mined so many long years ago with the pan and cradle. The ravines and gulches have somewhat changed, it is true; for we find where once the ground was clear and free from trees is now a dense forest of thrifty pines. Yet the old localities have a familiar look, and sitting upon a large boulder, which we well remember working around and of panning from beneath it quite a respectable amount of gold, we can almost in imagination go back in time to work over again the events and scenes as they occurred in the past. In traveling among the ravines and cañons at this late day in some portions of the mining regions, the rambler will occasionally come across a log cabin hidden in some recess, or upon the side of the hills among the forest trees, and occupied by an old-timer. They once lived in camp or nearer to the town, but such changes in course of time occurred—the old-timers having scattered, whilst their places were occupied by strangers—that in a few years those old-timers who remained, and who still continued to linger around their old familiar haunts, were now in consequence of these changes dwelling among strangers. This was disagreeable, and could not be thought of. They therefore made their homes in these out-of-way places, and seldom visit the towns or villages, but hermit-like pass their time in company with their favorite cat or dog.

But a short time since, an old-timer having occasion to visit the mining region, traveled through a section of the country where he mined in early days, but which is now a lonely and desolate region. He was therefore greatly astonished to find two log cabins which were occupied in this deserted region; but he was much more surprised to find that the occupants of both of them were old-timers with whom he had been acquainted many long years before, and both were supposed to be dead. They seem to enjoy life. They cultivate small gardens, and by the use of a cradle, are enabled to find gold enough to furnish them with all the necessaries of life, which, as one of them stated, consisted of one part flour, two parts potatoes, two of bacon, and the balance in whiskey, as far as their claim would stand it; which meant of course about ninety-five parts of whiskey, with occasionally a dish of beans for variety.

It was with the greatest pleasure that I wandered a few years ago among the old ravines, across the flats, and through the cañons where we used to mine, and to visit the old cabins or the places where they used to stand, for the greater portion of them have gone to decay; but there upon that point under the big oak tree you can yet see a few decayed logs, all that now remains of a large cabin once occupied by a company of boys from Philadelphia, who came around Cape Horn in the good ship “Susan G. Owens;” while over there upon that bench above are the remains of a cabin that was occupied in the fall of ’49 by a French Count. He never spoke to anyone; neither did I ever see him smile; but he worked hard in the ravine below and was always dressed in real Paris style with plug hat, black dress coat buttoned up to his chin, and wearing upon his feet a pair of cloth gaiters.