[No date.] Today we went up to Stockton again, the approach is through mud and mire, or rather water, reminding one of that at Houston from the south; the mud, if anything, more disagreeable to walk through. One wonders at the way in which men stay here day after day, gambling going on incessantly. Of course, the sharpers and experts get all the money, the poor dupes continue to put down gold-dust, even though every boat that leaves takes away professional card-players, and they have to return to the mines to dig. The craze for the mines is beyond all credence; mechanics refuse sixteen dollars a day, to go to the mines where half an ounce is the regular gain, though sometimes ten times that amount.
[No date.] We leave tomorrow for San Francisco; today I made a sketch of the east suburb of the town, and as a proof of the good intentions of the people to be honest, and keep up good principles, a gallows is the chief object in the foreground. It was erected to execute a man for murder and robbery.
A party here got up a club called the "Hounds," at first as a patrol, and were of real service, but later bad habits crept in, such as knocking up any bar-keeper at any hour of the night and making "a night of it." For some time they paid for this on the following day, always saying as they went out "To the charge of the Hounds," but at last the "charge" became the last of the matter; eventually thefts were committed, and the thief was convicted by a regular jury, and sentenced. The day for his execution came, and he felt assured that he would be rescued by his friends, and probably would have been, but for the arrival of a ship-load of emigrants, who, on being informed of the fact, marched out, fully armed, to see the law carried into effect.
The prices of everything here are beyond belief;
| Flour, | $40.00 per barrel. |
| Pork, | 65.00 per barrel. |
| Pilot bread, | .20 per pound. |
| India-rubber boots, | 50.00 to $60.00. |
| Flannel shirts, | 6.00 to $8.00. |
| Shot, | .30 per pound. |
| Powder, | 1.00 to $1.50 per lb. |
| Government tents, | 40.00, at home $12.00. |
| India-rubber, | 100.00. |
| Freight to the mines, | .50 per pound. |
and almost every other article in proportion; for cleaning my watch and putting on a new crystal, $16.00. Yet with these high prices scarcely one becomes rich. Board $3.00 to $6.00 a day, without lodging. Washing and ironing $6.00 a dozen.
We are in a forlorn condition, almost without clothes, and our mules broken down, yet wretched as we are no company coming by land has done better, and mine is only the second yet holding together. This shows how honorable the men are, for [with] wages from $5.00 to $10.00 per day, and mechanics (of which our company has several) [getting] from $10.00 to $16.00, these men stand by their contract.
[No date.] We none of us regret leaving Stockton, where we have been for four days delayed by the steamer, our ill-luck as regards waitings still follows us. We are going in the steamer Captain Southern. [?]
San Francisco. December 23d. The day we left Stockton we had one of the most violent gales I had seen for many a week, and our boat, a little steam side-wheeler, was so flat and so light that the strong wind from the south-east had us ashore twenty times in the first hour, on the banks of the slough which leads to the San Joaquin, the main stream leading to the upper bay, Suisun; finally anchors and all were dragged high on the bulrushes, and we were delayed two days more.
We reached San Francisco on Saturday night December 21st, and stayed in our blankets on the floor of the steamer until morning when we went off, on what is called "the long dock" into mud half-leg deep. We paid fifty cents for a cup of coffee and a bit of bread, and I went for my letters, but found none, so went off to hunt up my men, found them all right, and returned to Henry Mallory, who having received letters was able to set my anxieties about my family at rest; but I alone of all the company had no home news. I sat on the deck of the steamer, the most quiet place I could find, re-read my old letters, and went about my business with a heavy heart.