By means of the same conveyance that carried us to Marysville, we resumed our northern journey early in the morning of the succeeding day, and by twelve o’clock we reached the place of our destination. We were now on Long Bar, a popular mining place, divided and watered by the Yuba. Two miles beyond is Park’s Bar, which I had visited on a previous occasion; but this was the first time I had ever entered the mines for the purpose of digging gold. Now, however, I had come to try my luck, and to see what the gnomes and fairies would do for me.
Once fairly started in a miner’s life, I could not completely steel myself against the extravagant hopes which seemed to float in the very atmosphere of the mines. Wild and extravagant fancies would in spite of me obtrude themselves upon what I thought a well-balanced mind. Nor were these reveries by any means unnatural, unreasonable though they might be. Thousands of miners have, from time to time, indulged hopes equally impalpable and transitory. I was standing over deposits of gold, and who could tell how large they were, or how easily they might be found? Who knew but that I should dig from these hills more wealth than was ever locked up in the vaults of the Rothschilds?
I had supplied myself with abundance of provisions, a pair of good blankets, and every needful mining implement. Being in what is called surface diggings, that is, on a spot where the gold lies near the surface of the earth, I could perform all the necessary manipulations myself. I noticed that those around did not delve deeper than from three to four feet in this place. It did not pay to go lower; and whether it paid to dig at all, will be seen hereafter. My implements consisted of a pick, a spade, a pan, a bucket, a cradle and a wheelbarrow. The cradle, though rudely made and of rude material, was a very good one, and I have since regretted that I did not keep it and bring it with me, as it would have answered a domestic purpose quite as well as a more costly one. The modus operandi of single-handed mining may be described in a few words. The earth is loosened with the pick, thrown into the wheelbarrow with the spade, rolled to the river, emptied into the cradle, washed by pouring water over it from the bucket, and carefully rocked until the gold is separated from the dirt. The clods of earth, during this process of washing, slowly dissolve, or are suspended in the water, whereupon the gold, (if there is any,) being heaviest, sinks to the bottom. All the contents of the cradle are then turned out, except a thin layer at the bottom, which is supposed to contain the precious metal. The next and last process is to scoop this layer into the pan, and wash and rewash it until the dirt is entirely separated from the gold. A sieve, or rather a piece of punctured or perforated sheet-iron, which catches the larger stones and other insoluble substances, is fixed about midway the depth of the cradle. The gold is generally found in small particles about the size of grains of sand, sometimes not half so large, sometimes much larger. The size of the grains, as well as the quantity, depends very much upon the locality. No lumps larger than a small pea were obtained from this bar.
Fearing that I might make a fortune immediately, and return to the city without learning how the gold gleaners live, I determined not to commence operations until I had scrutinized the whole bar, tents, miners, mining and all. Indeed it was necessary for me to converse with some of the miners, in order to acquaint myself with their laws respecting claims, dams and water. All surface diggings, when marked out, or laid off in small plats, are called bars; and these bars are known by distinctive names, as, for instance, Rocky Bar, Steep Bar, Sandy Bar, &c. The name is not always derived from a peculiarity of the place. Frequently they are called by the names of the men who first discovered gold on them, as Brown’s Bar, Hall’s Bar, Drake’s Bar; and sometimes they take their names from an important event that occurred at or near them at the time they were opened, as Highwayman’s Bar, Rioter’s Bar, Murderer’s Bar. Among the more fanciful names that designate localities in various parts of the mines are the following: Whiskey Bar, Humbug Creek, One Horse Town, Mississippi Quarters, Mad Ox Ravine, Mad Mule Canon, Skunk Flat, Woodpecker Hill, Jesus Maria, Yankee Jim’s Diggings, Death Pass, Ignis Fatuus Placer, Devil’s Retreat, Bloody Bend, Jackass Gulch, Hell’s Half Acre.
Every Bar is governed by such laws as the majority of the miners see fit to enact, not by written or published documents, but by verbal understanding. All the mines are public property, that is, they belong to the United States government, which, in its suicidal liberality, exercises comparatively no jurisdiction over them. So far as the general government is concerned, Chinese marauders and foreign cut-throats have the same rights and privileges guaranteed to them, in this matter, as American citizens. Besides the enormous sums of money that the federal government paid for California, it did a great deal of hard fighting, and now has to keep a body of troops stationed there to prevent the Indians from desolating the country; but aliens, who bear no part of the burden, and who refuse to become permanent settlers or citizens, are permitted, nay, encouraged, to come in on an equal footing. No tax is levied upon them. They are protected from the Indians by our soldiery, and share all the benefits with the native citizens; yet they are not required to aid in defraying the common expenses. It can hardly be doubted that this is bad policy? Would it not be bad management in a father, after having bought a farm, to let strangers come in and carry off the fruits of the soil, to the detriment and impoverishment of his own children? If so, then our government, as a general mother, is doubly culpable.
Almost every Bar is governed by a different code of laws, and the sizes of the claims vary according to locality. In one place a man may hold twice, thrice, or even quadruple the number of feet that are allowed him in another. One fourth of an acre is an average-sized claim. The discoverer of new diggings is awarded a double or triple share, or only an equal part, as a majority of those on the ground shall determine. Two claims cannot be held by one person at the same time, except by purchase. If a man lets his claim go unworked a certain number of days, say five, eight or ten, he forfeits it, and any other person is at liberty to take possession of it. When a miner wishes to quit his claim only for a few days, he stacks his tools upon it, notifies two or three adjoining neighbors of his intention, and goes where he pleases. If he returns within the time prescribed by the laws of the Bar, he is entitled to resume his claim; but if he is absent a day longer, it falls to the first person, without a claim, who may happen to find it. There is more real honesty and fairness among the miners than any other class of people in California. Taken as a body, they are a plain, straight-forward, hard-working set of men, who attend to their own business without meddling in the affairs of others; and I have found as guileless hearts amongst them as ever throbbed in mortal bosom. Genuine magnanimity or nobleness of soul, when found at all in California, must be sought among the miners—especially among those who are farthest removed from the contaminating influences of idlers and gamblers.
Drones and sluggards—things in the shape of men, who are too lazy to work for an honest living—are the chief authors of the horrible crimes that have rendered this country so odious and despicable. They are the persons who are always creating disturbances; cheating, robbing and murdering; and there is such a legion of them that no place is exempt from their presence. Wherever there is money they may be seen skulking around it; and if they cannot filch it from the rightful owner by intrigue or artifice, they will do it by more violent measures. They lurk behind the poor drudging miner, even in the farthest gorges of the mountains, and there butcher him, that they may avail themselves of his hard-earned treasures. An incident of this nature, which terminated most admirably, occurred near this place but a few days before my arrival. A highwayman met a miner in an unfrequented place, and, with a cocked pistol pointing towards him, demanded, “Your gold this instant, sir, or your life!â€� “Hold! you shall have it,â€� exclaimed the miner, when quickly thrusting his hand into his breast pocket, as if feeling for his purse, he drew his own revolver and shot the would-be assassin dead upon the spot.
While reconnoitering the bar, I made excuses to call on several miners who happened to be in their tents. As for the tents themselves, though nearly all of the same size, they differ very much in appearance and quality. A great many are made of duck or white canvas; while others are built of stunted saplings, which grow sparsely throughout the mining region. Those constructed of the latter material are about the size and shape of a common hog-pen, with a stick and mud chimney, which very frequently has a headless whiskey barrel stuck in the top for a funnel. These are the best and most comfortable domicils about the mines; and it is only when miners, or a combination of miners, have large claims, which afford them steady employment for a considerable length of time, that they are enabled to build them. There being no planks, boards, slabs, nor other sawn or hewn timbers, the poles are covered with brush or coarse cloth, and sometimes with raw-hides. The ground is the floor in all cases. No chimney nor whiskey-barrel flue graces the gable-end of the canvas tent; it is merely a temporary shelter from the scorching rays of the sun and the chilling dews of the night. Until the miner is successful enough to secure a good claim and build himself a hovel, of course he is compelled to sleep under the roof which canopied Adam and Eve, and he must take his chances of the tarantula and of the assassin.
The interior of the miner’s tent corresponds to its exterior. Spread upon the ground, on one side, we see a pair of rumpled blankets, upon which he sleeps. They are thoroughly saturated with mud and dust, and have never been shaken, switched nor sunned since their place was assigned them. Scattered here and there, about the edges of the blankets, lie several of Paul de Kock’s and Eugene Sue’s yellow-backed novels, whose soiled margins and dog-eared leaves give evidence that they are not allowed to go unread. Something less than half a dozen packs of cards are within reach, while three or four old stumps or chunks of wood, employed as substitutes for chairs, occupy random positions about the floor. In one corner is a keg of brandy or whiskey, and in another the cooking apparatus and provisions. As for tables, delft-ware, knives and forks, or any thing of that kind, there are none. The miner always carries his pistol and bowie knife by his side day and night, and with the latter weapon, aided by his fingers, he reduces his food to convenient morsels.
His cooking utensils consist of a frying-pan and a pot, neither of which, except in rare instances, is ever washed. The pot is mostly used for boiling pork and beans, and the old scum and scales that accumulate on the inside from one ebullition serve as seasoning to the next. Pork and beans are two of the principal articles of diet with miners, partly because they are comparatively cheaper than other provisions, and partly on account of their being so nutritious and wholesome. The beans, especially, are very fine; they are imported from Chili, and are superior to any I ever saw in the Atlantic States. By boiling as much at one time as the pot will hold, the miner generally saves himself the trouble of preparing these articles of food oftener than twice a week. When cooked to suit him, he sets the pot on one side, leaving the contents in it uncovered; this is his pantry, and out of it he makes his meals from time to time, until all is consumed, when he replenishes it with a fresh supply of the same kind. Flap-jacks are very frequently used in lieu of bread. They are a combination of flour and water, fried in such grease as can be extracted from the pork; or, if the miner has no pork, he bakes them as he would other thin cakes of dough. If he is not too far removed from a depot of general provisions, he will probably keep a bottle of molasses, which may be seen by the side of the frying-pan, unstopped, and containing an amount of flies and ants nearly equal to that of the saccharine juice. These entrapped insects do not seem to come within the scope of his observation, as he never attempts to clear his bottle of them. He is not very squeamish about his diet.