One morning about eleven o'clock they came in sight of Murphy's. It was only a mining-settlement of the most primitive description. A few tents and cabins, with rough, bearded men scattered here and there, intent upon working their claims, gave it a picturesque appearance, which it has lost now. It was then a more important place than at present, however, for the surface diggings are exhausted, and it is best known-to-day by its vicinity to the famous Calaveras grove of big trees.
"So this is Murphy's?" said Ben, rather disappointed. "It doesn't seem to be much of a place."
"You didn't expect to see a regular town, did you?" asked Bradley.
"I don't know. I hardly knew what to expect. It seems a rough place."
"And I suppose the people seem rough, too?"
"Yes."
"So they are in appearance; but you can't tell what a man has been, by his looks here. Why, the man that worked the next claim to me was a college graduate, and not far away was another who had been mayor of a Western city."
"And were they dressed like these men here?" asked Ben.
"Quite as roughly. It won't do to wear store-clothes at the mines."
"No, I suppose not; but these men look like immigrants just come over."