[CHAPTER XVII.]
While St. John was occupied as narrated in the preceding chapter, we remained at Ford's Bar, and prayed that the river might speedily fall.
The same day on which we bought the armour I went with Dr. Browne to a spot not far from Jacob's Ladder, to put up a notice of our intention to construct a wing-dam at that place as soon as the water permitted. This simple bit of paper, with our names and signatures attached, was posted in a conspicuous position on a tree hard by, and secured to us possession of the territory therein described as effectually as all the sealed and witnessed and recorded formalities of more artificial society.
The spot we had selected had been found unusually rich the year before, and it was but natural to conclude that a great deal of the precious deposit still remained, which could be reached, however, only by a wing-dam. This is nothing but a thick mound or dike of stones and earth, projecting half way across the river, and then running down the stream fifty or perhaps several hundred feet. When possible, it is built just above a fall or rapid, which lowers the water in the partially enclosed space sufficiently to enable the miner with long-handled shovels to dig out the earth without much difficulty; but when no such rapids are to be found, the only advantage of a wing-dam consists in the stillness of the water, the current being generally so violent that it would be quite impossible, without some such expedient, to raise a shovelful of earth above the surface.
The miner then, standing in the water up to his middle, scoops up the gravel from the bottom, and either flings it on to the bank or empties it into a bucket held by one of his companions. Much of the gold is unavoidably lost by this imperfect process, but the labour is so slight compared with the ordinary method of damming, and requires so much less expenditure of time and money, that the miner can well afford to overlook its peculiar disadvantages.
With a wing-dam in prospect, and one fourth of a submarine armour in actual possession, we thought we might safely bid defiance to fortune. The water, however, was yet too high, and in the mean time we worked, though very interruptedly, here and there along the banks, sometimes making half an ounce apiece, and at others spending the whole day in prospecting without earning a dollar. The 12th of June was uncomfortably cool, and a slight shower fell in the morning, the first rain we had known for more than six weeks. The next day the river had contracted so much with the cold that we made a beginning in our claim at the lower end of the bar, but the water again rising, drove us out at thirty buckets.
In the afternoon we walked down to the store to see a wonderful instrument that had just been brought into the valley. On entering the store, we found a large crowd assembled, and in the midst a heavy-looking Dutchman, who held in his hands a strip of whalebone apparently taken from an umbrella, and split in two about half its length.