It is but seldom that the miner suspends labor on Sunday if his claim is a rich one; but if it is poor, he usually lets it rest on that day, while he does his washing and mending. I have already said that he carries his bowie-knife and revolver with him day and night. There is scarcely an exception to this rule; ninety-nine out of every hundred are thus armed, and this accounts for the fatal result of almost every altercation. No matter what it is that occasions disputes between men, whether slight misunderstandings or grave difficulties, few words are bandied before they appeal to their weapons, and the life of one or the other is sure to be lost in the fracas,—sometimes both are killed. This barbarous practice of carrying deadly weapons is not alone confined to the miners; you rarely find a merchant, mechanic, lawyer doctor, or man of any other calling in California, who does not keep them concealed about him. By a calculation, based upon fair estimates, I learn that since California opened her mines to the world, she has invested upwards of six millions of dollars in bowie-knives and pistols—pretty playthings to give to her children!

Having surveyed and examined the bar, and all that pertained to it, to my satisfaction, I constructed a small canvas tent, and the next day began to search the earth in quest of gold. Though I was not reared in idleness, this was my first lesson in real hard labor. Here, in the summer season, the thermometer ranging from 90 to 105 degrees of Fahrenheit in the shade, mining, when diligently and assiduously prosecuted, is certainly the most toilsome employment in the world. I imagine that the tillage of sugar-fields is pastime compared with it, and that the African slaves who gather coffee in Brazil, have no adequate conception of hardwork.

For three months I applied myself to my tools and claim with all the energy of my nature—digging, shoveling and rocking, with the snarls of grizzly hears to lull me to sleep at night, and the howls of hungry wolves to regale my ears at the break of day. With all this wear and tear of body and mind, my account-current of proceeds and expenditures stood, at the expiration of that time, giving myself no credit for either loss of time or physical exhaustion, just ninety-three and three-quarter cents—balance on hand! This was building a palace with a vengeance! A net profit of ninety-three and a quarter cents in three months, being “two and six-penceâ€� per month, or a fraction over a cent a day.

Hope, however, did not forsake me, and besides that, (shall I confess it?) I felt a sort of malignant satisfaction that I was not alone in my disappointments. I found consolation in the misfortune of others! When I looked around me, and saw scores of dirty, hungry, ragged, long-haired miners, who had toiled and labored like plantation negroes, on this and other bars, for more than two years, and who could not command as much as five dollars to save their lives, it buoyed me up, and made me better satisfied with my own ill-luck. The feeling that thus manifested itself may have been worthy of censure, but I am sure it was natural, for no energetic or enterprising man likes to see his neighbor out-do him, or surpass him in the acquisition of wealth—especially if their chances and opportunities have always been the same. If I had not been unsuccessful myself, I should not have chuckled over the corresponding misfortunes of others; but, to be candid, feeling that my devotion and application to business entitled me to a reasonable share of prosperity, I had but little sympathy for my fellow-miners, who, being no more worthy of reward than myself, failed in their efforts to excel me. I said I had but little sympathy for them. I had some. It grieved me to see so many stout, athletic men undergoing so many privations and discomforts, wasting their time in unprofitable schemes, only to be at last subjected to the most galling disappointments.

The time had now come, however, for other thoughts and considerations. A change of location seemed to be necessary. The profits of mining did not warrant longer continuance at this place. It occurred to me that the sum of ninety-three and three-quarter cents was but indifferent remuneration for three months’ herculean labor. I wished to have nothing to do with this lying equivalent, so handing it over, with my compliments, to a poor, needy, hungry-looking neighbor, I shook the dust from my feet and departed, after the manner of Lot when he left Sodom, not deigning to look behind—not for fear, however, of being turned into a pillar of gold.

CHAPTER XIII.
STOCKTON AND SONORA.

I have perambulated the streets of San Francisco, Sacramento, Marysville and Stockton; but of all the California cities, after San Francisco, Stockton is my choice. It is named in honor of Commodore R. F. Stockton, and is situated on a tributary of the San Joaquin river, which empties into the Suisun Bay, opening into the Bay of San Francisco. Being but a little over one hundred miles to the east of San Francisco, it enjoys the advantages of daily steamboat communication with that place; but owing to the narrow banks of the stream and the shallowness of the water, the vessels are much smaller than those employed upon the Sacramento. It contains from six to seven thousand inhabitants. Though only the fourth city in the State in population, it is the third in business. All the residents of the southern mines draw their supplies from it; and as it is blessed with a mild climate, it is frequently resorted to by those who seek pastime or recreation.

The San Joaquin valley, in the midst of which this city is situated, would probably be the best agricultural land in the State, if the water could be drained from it; but in its present low and boggy condition, it is utterly unfit for cultivation. It takes its name from the low-banked river which meanders through it, and is as level as a garden. No vegetable production is found upon it, except the tule, a tall, pithy species of rush or calamus, which bears a more striking resemblance to the flag than to any thing else of Atlantic growth. This tule, which grows as thick as it can stand, and from six to eight foot in height, is an annual plant; and in the fall of the year, if fire be communicated to it during the night, when there is a light breeze stirring, it burns with an indescribable splendor. I have said that this aquatic weed is the only natural product of the valley; this is true, as regards all that part which is perfectly level, and which presents the appearance of a vast meadow; but as we approach the Coast Range on the south-west, or the Sierra Nevadas on the north-east, we come to slightly elevated knolls, upon which we find clumps of gnarled oaks. These trees all lean towards the east, as if bowing their heads in adoration, having grown in this reverential posture while under the influence of the winds from the west.

This valley affords another evidence of the unfavorable condition of the country. It shows conclusively that even the most valuable parts of the State are encumbered with insurmountable impediments. The bottom lands, which are mainly relied upon for agricultural purposes, are too wet to till, and too low to drain; while the uplands are so dry and sterile that neither grains, plants nor fruits can be raised upon them. There is either too much moisture or none at all. It is a land of mountains and mud-holes. Still, there are some extensive plains and valleys which might be successfully cultivated, if the seasons were adapted to them; but the absence of rain during the summer renders them of little or no value to the farmer. It is very probable, however, that in the progress of time, as the other members of the confederacy become burdened with population, the more eligible parts of this State will be settled and, by means of irrigation, made tolerably productive; but when California is thus peopled and converted into a place of permanent habitation, it will be by the force of destiny, rather than by any attractions it can offer to immigrants. They may make it their home as a dernier resort, but they will not do it as a matter of choice. So long as there is any unappropriated territory in other parts of the Union, California will not be in demand.

We shall find but few things deserving attention in the city of Stockton, having already examined its archetypes, San Francisco and Sacramento. It is due to this place to remark that, notwithstanding all its Peter Funk and Cheap John establishments, it sustains a better character than any other city in the State. Though it has its share of groggeries and gambling-houses, and is, in most respects, fitted out in true California style, it is not infested with so many drones and desperadoes as are usually met with in neighboring towns. I am well acquainted with many of its citizens and know them to be estimable men—not too lazy to work, nor too sour to laugh at a merry thing.