Of course, no ladies accompanied the expedition. Men who went West for gold did not take their families with them, as a rule, and the settlers of new mining towns were all of the masculine gender.

When a town had attained to the dignity of a hotel, members of the gentler sex occasionally appeared, but—with the exception of an occasional washerwoman—their influence was decidedly the reverse of that usually attributed to woman’s society.

For the privileges of their society, men fought with pistols and knives, and bought of them disgrace and sorrow for gold. But at first Happy Rest was unblessed and uncursed by the presence of any one who did not wear pantaloons.

On the fifth day of its existence, however, when the arrival of an express agent indicated that Capital had formally acknowledged the existence of Happy Rest, there was an unusual commotion in the never-quiet village.

An important rumor had spread among the tents and gopher-holes, and, one after another, the citizens visited the saloon, took the barkeeper mysteriously aside, and, with faces denoting the greatest concern, whispered earnestly to him. The barkeeper felt his importance as the sole custodian of all the village news, but he replied with affability to all questions:

“Well, yes; there hed a lady come; come by the same stage as the express agent. What kind?—Well, he really couldn’t say—some might think one way, an’ some another. He thought she was a real lady, though she wouldn’t ’low anything to be sent her from the bar, and she hedn’t brought no baggage. Thought so—knowed she was a lady—in fact, would bet drinks for the crowd on it. ’Cos why?—’Cos nobody heerd her cuss or seed her laugh. H’d bet three to two she was a lady—might bet two to one, ef he got his dander up on the subject. Then, on t’other hand, she’d axed for Major Axel, and the major, ez everybody know’d, was—well, he wasn’t ’xactly a saint. Besides, as the major hedn’t come to Happy Rest, nohow, it looked ez if he was dodgin’ her for somethin’. Where was she stopping?—up to Old Psalmsinger’s. Old Psalm hed turned himself out of house an’ home, and bought her a new tea-kettle to boot. If anybody know’d anybody that wanted to take three to two, send him along.”

A few men called to bet, and bets were exchanged all over the camp, but most of the excitement centred about the storekeeper’s.

Argonauts, pioneers, heroes, or whatever else the early gold-seekers were, they were likewise mortal men, so they competed vigorously for the few blacking-brushes, boxes of blacking, looking-glasses, pocket-combs and neckties which the store contained. They bought toilet-soap, and borrowed razors; and when they had improved their personal appearance to the fullest possible extent, they stood aimlessly about, like unemployed workmen in the market-place. Each one, however, took up a position which should rake the only entrance to old Psalmsinger’s tent.

Suddenly, two or three scores of men struck various attitudes, as if to be photographed, and exclaimed in unison:

“There she is!”