At this the assembled Irish, Spanish, Dutch, and all the rest of the free and the brave aforesaid, who happened to be present, would express their admiring satisfaction each in his own fashion, while the natives, equally delighted, would applaud uproariously.
"And by the powers," cried a strapping Hibernian, who rejoiced in the honourable surname of The Tinker, and who was likewise reported to have a D branded somewhere on his person, "and that's what I call the right kind of talk any way."
"Yees," rejoined a paunchy little Dutchman, "me tinks so too; Meester Ting ish a very nice man;" while a dirty Mexican, adjusting his poncho, reiterated his Si Señor! muchas gracias! and other like points of admiration, with all the conscious dignity of a grandee of Old Castile.
But these scenes had sometimes a far more serious termination; and Sunday especially, when the miners came from every direction to buy provisions, seldom passed without a drunken frolic. The last Sunday in May was particularly distinguished in this manner; a new rum-shop had been opened, and all the hard drinkers in the neighbourhood signalized the event by swallowing a double allowance of liquor. They went from one store to another, drinking two or three times at each, till after several hours spent in this way, they reached that point when their natural inclinations manifested themselves without restraint.
An Irishman who, when sober, was a very clever fellow, first attacked me, as I sat on a pork-barrel, watching the progress of this strange drama, asserting that I had spoken of his countrymen the day before in a slighting and contemptuous manner, and challenging me to fight. While I was eagerly protesting my innocence, and assuring him that, on the contrary, no one had a better opinion of them than myself, The Tinker thrust himself into our party, and began, in a thick, drunken voice, to give an account of a fight in which he had been the hero, but whether in New York, or Mexico, or green Ireland, we could only conjecture. He illustrated his narrative by sundry vigorous passes in rather unpleasant proximity to the nose of his patriotic countryman, who thereupon taking sudden fire, knocked The Tinker behind a row of barrels that lined one side of the tent, where he lay a long time unable to extricate himself, his face only peering at intervals in drunken grimace over the wall of his prison. His antagonist was rendered almost frantic by this easy victory; he dashed his hat furiously on the ground, and rolling his eyes and twisting his face into horrible contortions, he flung his arms about like a stout-hearted old windmill, defying a thousand or more Don Quixotes to mortal combat.
A wiry little Scotchman, hugging his friend one moment in maudlin affection, and the next launching out into a strain of high moral eloquence—a doctor, young, handsome, and of good family, sitting on the ground and moaning to himself, the very picture of helpless imbecility,—a generous, highspirited volunteer, who had led on his company when three-fourths were cut down by the fire of the Mexicans, and who now whimperingly called on his friends to say if he was a coward,—together with half-a-score of more common soakers, quarrelsome and ill-tempered, were the principal actors; while among the crowd of spectators there was hardly one who was not, more or less, under the same influence.
They finally adjourned into the open air with the intention of going on to the next stopping-place at Dutch Tom's; but to do this it was necessary to cross the creek, here about four feet deep, and bridged only by a single log. All but one crossed in safety,—some running, some creeping on their hands and knees, and others, to show how entirely they were unaffected by the liquor, balancing along in a kind of country dance.
The dizzy pate who had fallen heels over head into the creek, no sooner recovered his footing than, seeing a number laughing at his catastrophe, he burst out with "I spose you think I'm drunk, eh? but it's all one for that; I only jumped in here acoz I was thirsty. Anybody that says I'm drunk,"—here he shook his head, with a look of direful meaning,—"I say, anybody that says I'm drunk—"
"Well," cried another, "what is it?—out with it, man."
"Well, anybody that says I'm drunk—I don't care who 'tis. You think I'm drunk?" he added, turning fiercely upon our little doctor, who had incautiously advanced too near the edge of the creek; "do you know, sir, that I was graduated, sir, at Edinboro'?"