It again rained during the night, and I had ample time to repent my indiscretion, but the next day the sun shone with unusual brilliancy, and I finally disposed of my share for the same price as before.
We had now nothing to keep us any longer in California—we sold our tent with all its furniture for fifty dollars, and then began the most successful mining we had yet had any thing to do with. We closed the door of our tent, still ours until we had left it, and commenced digging in the floor in places whose position we discovered by certain marks upon the wooden framework of the walls. I first brought to light a mustard bottle, now full, however, of a far brighter and more pungent dust—St. John at the same moment displayed an ancient vinegar cruet without a neck, so that it gave up all the more readily its precious contents. I then produced from a third place of deposit a vial that once contained, as the words blown into its sides declared, a vegetable elixir of wonderful virtues; but few, I believe, who would not have found the mineral panacea far more agreeable, unless indeed administered on homœopathic principles. In no long time a whole apothecary's shop was arrayed on our little table, every vial, however different in shape, containing the same grand catholicon, that if it cannot cure all, will cure as many of the ills that flesh is heir to as all others put together.
We emptied the contents of these vials into The New York Tribune, and having transferred the shining heap into sundry leathern bags and belts, we carried our well-filled trunk, containing a variety of curiosities, out on to the bank before the tent,—came back to look once more at the table, the beds, the stove, that had so wrought themselves into our being—then softly closing the door for the last time, walked swiftly down the well known path, not daring to look behind us, and with a feeling of melancholy it was impossible to resist.
We slept that night at Number Four's, and the next morning started in a wagon for Sacramento, not without a sensation of regret at our final abandonment of a life that with all its hardships had yet yielded us so much enjoyment. We arrived at Sacramento only a few minutes before the boat started, and at 2 p. m. bid that city a final farewell, precisely two years to a day, and almost to an hour, since I first landed from the Patuxent. The contrast between the diminutive schooner and the spacious decks of the Senator was hardly greater than that between the squalid miners huddled together like a flock of sheep in the one, and the well dressed crowd of comfortable tradesmen in the other; and but for a single incident I might have supposed myself in one of the floating palaces of the Hudson. A handsome young man, who came out of the saloon while we were sitting on the quarter deck, attracted my attention by what I set down as the most ridiculous affectation. He was drest in the height of the fashion, with a superabundance of jewelry, and a pair of the very smallest boots, which I thought partially accounted for his peculiar mincing gait. I had begun to regard him with even painful aversion, when some one whispered to me that it was a woman, and my feelings underwent a sudden change. Whatever I might think of her moral character, I could no longer accuse her of inconsistency or affectation—her mincing gait became a swimming walk—her love of ornament, her little simpering ways, her downcast lids, were her hereditary, inalienable right, with which I had no more reason nor inclination to find fault than with her slight figure and delicate complexion. She promenaded the deck for hours in all the independence of her masculine assumed attire; but when the bell rang for supper, she slunk down with the petticoats, thus adroitly, like other apostles of woman's rights, reserving her own peculiar privileges while insisting upon her claim to ours.
On arriving at San Francisco we took lodgings at a hotel, where we remained until the sailing of the next steamer, in which we hastened to secure a passage. We spent the time pleasantly enough in walking about the city, visiting the various places of public amusement, and the magnificent clippers lying at the wharves, among which the Flying Cloud, lately arrived from the quickest passage on record, most attracted our attention.
Being now about to leave the shores of California, I wished to signalize the event by some deed of high emprise, or, in the words of the great captain, finish the campaign by a clap of thunder. My acquaintance in the city were constantly making fortunes by lucky speculations, and I saw no reason why I should not follow their example. Opportunities were not wanting—nearly every other building in San Francisco was occupied as a commission and auction store, where the most incredible bargains were offered every day and every hour.
I entered one of the largest of these establishments just as the auctioneer was bidding off some kind of under garment; and as he whirled them dexterously around, I observed that they had sleeves, and asked to know no more. Here was the opportunity for which I had panted. I pressed forward among the bidders, and the next moment, such was the rapidity of my conclusion and the prompt energy of my action, I found myself the happy owner of eight dozen ladies' undershirts. "What name?" says the auctioneer. "Mr. Cash." "Please step into the back part of the store, Mr. Cash, and receive your goods." While I stood, like Atlas or Teneriffe, unremoved, and the whole crowd of wondering bidders stared at me as who should say, "What under the canopy do you want of eight dozen ladies' undershirts?" St. John, who had hitherto stood a silent and bewildered spectator of the scene, the suddenness of the whole proceeding having given him no time to interfere, now recovered from his torpor, and taking me all unresisting by the arm he quietly led me to the back of the shop, and then, making a skilful detour round a counter, out into the street, where we never once stopped to look behind us till we had left the danger far behind, and I was able to thank St. John for my deliverance. When in answer to his very natural inquiries I gave him an explanation of what he had just witnessed, though he highly approved of my design, that is of making a fortune, he thought the manner in which I set about the execution of it hardly justified any very sanguine notions of success, and discouraged me to that degree that I had no heart for any farther experiment; and thus ended my first and last speculation. I have been since inclined to regret this result when I have considered that Wellington was defeated in his first battle, and that Frederick the Great even fled from the field; and in the same manner I, though my first essay terminated so disastrously, might have come in time to be the greatest merchant since Jacob Astor. But whatever business talent I possessed was then and there crushed in the bud—I have ever since shrunk from the sight of an auctioneer as a thief from the sight of an officer, and the merest glimpse of a lady's undershirt is enough to disturb my equanimity for a whole day—while I regard the mention of such an article in my hearing as an offence beyond the reach of forgiveness.