Dr. Browne's whole time was to be occupied in amalgamating and weighing the gold; and, if practicable, casting it into ingots. Murray, the quiet Scotchman, had brought with him twelve tin boxes, each containing a quart of snuff; and he confidently expected, as fast as they were emptied, to fill them with another dust yet more precious and titillating. When I heard this story of their magnificent conceptions, I felt vexed and ashamed at my own comparatively grovelling notions; for it certainly must have been a fine thing to believe oneself, for ever so short a time, the possessor of such a princely fortune, and thus familiarize the mind to these ennobling contemplations. One could hardly fail to think and speak more loftily for it all his life, as the humblest individual who should become a lord or a king, even for a single day, could never lose the smack of greatness thus acquired.
Dinner was waiting when we entered, and we at once took our places, without loss of time in idle ceremony. A sailor's chest, covered with a real table-cloth, and raised to a convenient elevation by two low boxes, formed a very commodious table, the difficulty we experienced in disposing of our legs, and which compelled us to lean gracefully forward at an angle of forty-five degrees, being the only material objection. And this trifling annoyance was soon forgotten at sight of the truly royal banquet prepared by our munificent entertainers, and which I will describe at greater length, to remove, if possible, an odious impression, as I fear too generally prevalent, that the California miner absolutely eats nothing but pork and flapjacks.
The great advantages secured by division of labour were here apparent. Instead of each member of the company taking his turn, day by day or week by week, in performing all the culinary operations, as was the usual custom, each one had exclusive charge of some particular department. Oldbuck superintended the meats, the bread and pastry were confided to the doctor, while Murray, being only a noviciate and as yet unequal to the higher branches, was serving an apprenticeship at washing the dishes.
As might have been expected from so judicious an arrangement, everything was excellent and in perfect keeping. The first course consisted of boiled ham, roast venison, a venison stew or pasty (Friar Tuck's was not half so good, though, I take it, the best pasty in the world), and potatoes at a dollar a pound. After we had done ample justice to each of these dishes, and washed them down with a brimming cup of coffee, the plates—real china, by the way—were removed and expeditiously rinsed outside the tent by Murray, while we testified our growing complacency by a between-course of jests and sly allusions to the decidedly aristocratic pretensions of the colonel's establishment. The second course consisted of a huge platter of molasses gingerbread and indisputable peach-pie, accompanied by two bottles of wine; but where they came from, whether from Madeira or Kamtschatka, is beyond my conjecture. Colonel Oldbuck fidgetted a little at this unexpected apparition, for he was a teetotaller, and carried his principles with him to California, and, what is more, kept them there—an example that the great Kneel Down himself might have found it hard to follow.
Songs and stories now succeeded. "The youngest gentleman in company blew his melancholy into a flute," and fortunately managed also to blow considerable out of it, and about four o'clock we rose from table highly gratified with our first Thanksgiving in the mines.
[CHAPTER XII.]
It was now the beginning of winter, but the weather continued mild and favourable. The nights were cold, and the ground in the morning sometimes covered with frost; but our tent was always abundantly warm, and the sun no sooner rose above the hills than the whole atmosphere became of a most delightful temperature. The change was equally sudden at night, the disappearance of the sun being followed by an instant chill, that seemed to settle down upon the earth like a mantle, and drove us from our work at an early hour. During rainy weather the wind was invariably warm from the south-east.
Our life now moved on with great regularity. We rose at daybreak. The fire, which usually kept alive all night, was soon wide awake, and the coffee-pot sung cheerily on the stove. A little practice had enabled us to acquire a very tolerable proficiency in the noble and primitive art of cooking. A few weeks before, we had smacked our lips over certain flapjacks of the most amazing toughness and solidity, every one of which seemed to say, "Let me sit heavy on thy soul to-morrow," and seldom failed to attain its aspirations. They were made of unleavened flour, with a plentiful admixture of rice, the latter substance alone affording any reasonable hope of a speedy digestion. Yet even Mowbray condescended to express his approbation of them, and once manifested considerable curiosity to learn the secret of their composition. But they were only my first essay, as inferior to my subsequent productions as the first feeble rhymes of a fledgling poet to his maturer efforts, and I felt vexed that he should have gone away with such an inadequate estimate of my powers as these crude conceptions were calculated to produce. In the mean time, I extended my researches in every direction. Our little frying-pan was no longer large enough for the purpose. It answered very well for those earlier cakes, as round and thick as the shield of Ajax, but required too much time for the delicate, almost transparent wafers that now alone satisfied our refined palates. In going to and from our work, I had often passed an old Dutch oven, that, having a large hole in one side, was no longer fit for its legitimate purpose. One day a happy idea seized me. I took possession of the oven, and carrying it home, knocked off the remaining sides, and having cleaned it with fire, converted the bottom into a very commodious griddle.