As St. John's health was nearly restored by this week's rest, it seemed time to be looking about us in search of a favourable opening. The rivers, so far as we could learn, had not yet begun to fall, and the accounts we heard from Rector's were so discouraging that we abandoned all present thought of advancing any further into the mountains. There was no lack of ravines in the immediate neighbourhood, from some of which immense sums had been extracted; but almost every foot of ground was appropriated; and the labour, beside being far more toilsome and disagreeable, was entirely different from that to which we had been accustomed. Buried in those deep valleys, shut out from the wholesome light of the sun, breathing the pestilent damps of stagnant water, and a rank vegetation, the unlucky miners who worked there purchased their gold at the highest possible rate, in cramps, and agues, and premature old age.
Our old friend Dr. Browne was only seven miles off, at Ford's Bar; and no better alternative presenting itself, I set out early Monday morning to make him a visit and see what could be done at that point in the way of mining. My path ran at first through the open level of the pine forest, then cutting off the head of Oregon Cañon, made a sudden dive about three miles from Georgetown into Cañon Creek.
Capt. Fayreweather in his wanderings had come as far as this place, and had given us a marvellous account of the steepness of the hill, and the depth of the valley; where, he said, the sun never shone, even at midday, and the miners who entered into it were obliged to climb every evening to the upper air to expel and evaporate the noisome vapours they had absorbed. Perhaps a little incident that occurred at the time may partially explain this bitterness on the part of the too sensitive old patriarch.
One night, after a long and fatiguing day, he found himself far from home, and gladly accepted the invitation of some chance acquaintance to accompany them to their camp; but when, after a long tramp over two or three high hills, they at last reached the spot, instead of the snug log cabin he expected he found nothing but two big logs laid cornerwise; which, however it might suggest the first rudiments or tender shoot of what might in time grow into a royal palace, as yet afforded but little protection against the biting winds. His friends having ushered him into this truly aboriginal bed-chamber, set about preparing and eating their own supper without wasting a thought upon their unhappy visitor, who would undoubtedly have starved before morning with hunger and cold, if he had not fortunately had the precaution to fill his pockets with bread and cheese before leaving home.
Having descended the hill, not without several tumbles, I crossed the narrow stream running through the bottom, and which was diverted from its original channel in a hundred places by the indefatigable miners, and again ascending, came in less than an hour to the brow of the hill overlooking the Middle Fork. Much had already been told me of the rugged wildness of this river, but I was wholly unprepared for the scene that now so suddenly burst upon me. Two thousand feet below, but so near that it seemed as if a vigorous leap would land me in the middle, Ford's Bar, like a mighty wedding cake, lay sleeping in the sun: the stones on its surface dwindled into sugar plums and almonds—the tents into sugar houses, with almost invisible mites creeping among them. Directly opposite, rose a hill of still taller proportions, running in and out, in irregular phalanx, as far as the eye could see up and down the narrow crooked valley—so crooked that the first thought was of wonder how the river ever got in—the second of still greater wonder how it could ever get out. A solitary turkey-buzzard, sailing like a practised skater in long swinging curves down the stream, now grazed with his wing the stunted bushes on this hillside, and the next moment threw his shadow athwart the rugged slope of the other.
To venture into such a chasm was like the frogs jumping into the well; but fortifying myself with the reflection that we should never have heard of such a place unless some one had returned from it to the upper world, I commenced the descent. The narrow shelvy path ran in short zig-zags down the face of the mountain, and naturally supposing it to know best, I followed its example. I found this mode of progression much easier than walking, though I was often obliged to check my career by clutching at the low bushes that had thrust their roots among the disjointed rocks, and in half an hour reached the bottom, my knees trembling and knocking against each other so that I could hardly stand.
Dr. Browne was at the upper end of the bar engaged, so he informed me, in the erection of a hospital for the accommodation of his numerous patients; for since his arrival at this place, where he had no longer to divide his profits with the cunning Oldbuck, he had entered in earnest on the practice of his profession. The building or edifice honoured by this lofty appellation, was a tent about six feet square, and barely high enough in the middle for a man to stand upright. It stood in the midst of burning rocks without a rag of shade about it, and seemed in every respect well fitted to test the efficacy of fire-practice in the treatment of diseases.
The prospect on the Middle Fork was not encouraging, and when I left the bar, I fully intended never to return. I was an hour and a half in ascending the hill, whose slaty sides almost crackled under the intense heat of the sun; that now declining from the zenith, levelled his perpendicular rays full against the western slope. But this being past, and the mountain forest receiving me into its grateful shadow, I was able to give wider scope to the consideration of the important matter now before me. Wherever I turned, I was headed off by the ugly question, "If you don't go to Ford's Bar, where will you go?" There was no way of dodging it, so we effected a compromise, and I concluded to go over a few days to give the place a trial, the result of which would perhaps enable us to arrive at a final conclusion. So have I seen a long-headed rat arguing to himself the expediency of choosing a trap for his future residence, and finally concluding with equal sagacity to go in, just to give the place a trial.
However, my brothers inclining to the same opinion, early the next morning I quietly submitted to having packed on my back the fly of our tent and one of our cradles, a burden more inconvenient from its size than weight,—St. John was similarly equipped with our blankets,—we each carried in our dexter hand a shovel or a pick, and thus accoutred we went humping along the road, in a strain of the profoundest humility. Tertium accompanied us to the brow of the hill, with the sap yoke and two well-filled buckets; and then returned to Georgetown to wait, in solitary dignity, the arrival of a portion of our goods that had been left behind at Mormon Island.
In addition to our former burden, we now each took one of the buckets in his other hand, and committed ourselves to the descent. Subsequent experience made the difficulties of this passage seem trifling in comparison, but at the time they presented themselves with a most formidable aspect. The elevation, indeed, was inconsiderable, compared even with that of Mount Washington, but the steepness of the path, its uneven, slippery surface, broken into steps a yard high, or covered with minute fragments of slate that afforded no sure foothold, and, more than all, our awkward burdens that sadly dislocated our centre of gravity even on level ground, compelled us to proceed with the same high-strung intensity of muscle as a dancer on the tight rope.