The gold hunters

by John David Borthwick

Other men, with more energy in their dissipation, and old sailors especially, would have periodical bursts, more intense but of shorter duration. After mining steadily for a month or two, and saving their money, they would set to work to get rid of it as fast as possible. An old sailor went about it most systematically. For the reason, as I supposed, that when going to have a “spree,” he imagined himself to have come ashore off a voyage, he generally commenced by going to a Jew’s slop-shop, where he rigged himself out in a new suit of clothes; he would then go the round of all the bar-rooms in the place, and insist on every one he found there drinking with him, informing them at the same time (though it was quite unnecessary, for the fact was very evident) that he was “on the spree.” Of course, he soon made himself drunk, but before being very far gone he would lose the greater part of his money to the gamblers. Cursing his bad luck, he would then console himself with a rapid succession of “drinks,” pick a quarrel with some one who was not interfering with him, get a licking, and be ultimately rolled into a corner to enjoy the more passive phase of his debauch. On waking in the morning he would not give himself time to get sober, but would go at it again, and keep at it for a week—most affectionately and confidentially drunk in the forenoon, fighting drunk in the afternoon, and dead-drunk at night. The next week he would get gradually sober, and, recovering his senses, would return to his work without a cent in his pocket, but quite contented and happy, with his mind relieved at having had what he considered a good spree. Four or five hundred dollars was by no means an unusual sum for such a man to spend on an occasion of this sort, even without losing much at the gaming-table. The greater part of it went to the bar-keepers for “drinks,” for the height of his enjoyment was every few minutes to ask half-a-dozen men to drink with him.

The amount of money thus spent at the bars in the mines must have been enormous; the system of “drinks” was carried still further than in San Francisco; and there were numbers of men of this description who were fortunate in their diggings, and became possessed of an amount of gold of which they could not realize the value. They only knew the difference between having money and having none; a hundred dollars was to them as good as a thousand, and a thousand was in their ideas about the same as a hundred. It did not matter how much they had saved; when the time came for them to reward themselves with a spree after a month or so of hard work, they made a clean sweep of everything, and spent their last dollar as readily as the first.

I did not remain in Nevada, being anxious to get down to the Yuba before the rainy season should set in and put a stop to mining operations on the river.

Foster’s Bar, about thirty miles off, was the nearest point on the Yuba, and for this place I started. I was joined on leaving the town by a German, carrying his gun and powder-horn: he was a hunter by profession, as he informed me, having followed that business for more than a year, finding ready sale for his game in Nevada.

The principal kinds of game in the mountains are deer, quail, hares, rabbits, and squirrels. The quails, which are very abundant, are beautiful birds, about the size of a pigeon, with a top-knot on their head; they are always in coveys, and rise with a whirr like partridges.

My hunting companion was at present going after deer, and, intending to stop out till he killed one, he carried his blanket and a couple of days’ provisions.

I arrived about noon at a very pretty place called Hunt’s Ranch. It was a large log house, with several well-cultivated fields around it, in which a number of men were at work. At dinner here there was the most extensive set-out of vegetables I ever saw in the country, consisting of green peas, French beans, cauliflower, tomatoes, onions, cucumbers, pumpkins, squash, and watermelons. It was a long time since I had seen such a display, and not knowing when I might have another opportunity, I pitched into them right and left.

I was lighting my pipe in the bar-room after dinner, when a man walked in whom I recognized at once as one of my fellow passengers from New York to Chagres. I was very glad to see him, as he was one of the most favorable specimens of that crowd; and according to the custom of the country, we immediately ratified our renewed acquaintance in a brandy cocktail. He was returning to his diggings about ten miles off, and our roads being the same, we set out together.

He gave me an account of his doings since he had been in the mines, from which he did not seem to have had much luck on his side, for most of the money he had made he had lost in buying claims which turned out valueless. He had owned a share in a company which was working a claim on the Yuba, but had sold it for a mere trifle before it was ascertained whether the claim was rich or not, and it was now yielding 150 dollars a day to the man.

We crossed the Middle Yuba, a small stream, at Emery’s Bridge, where my friend left me, and I went on alone, having six or seven miles to go to reach my resting-place for the night.