The river was swollen to such an extent that the bars along its shores were covered with water and could not be worked. The natural roads down the valley to Sacramento City became so very soft and muddy that pack mules could not travel them with packs, and provisions were boated up the river as far as possible, and then carried upon the miners’ backs.
The limited stock of provisions in the mines at the beginning of the rainy season was soon exhausted, and consequently food soon became very scarce and extremely high. Flour advanced from 40 cents to $1.50 per pound, and much of it that was sold at that exorbitant price was so badly hurt that it required the use of a hatchet to cut it in pieces to remove it from the barrel. Other provisions became equally as expensive in proportion, and were difficult to procure at any price.
When the rainy season commenced a great number began to prepare some protection or shelter. Some built themselves small cloth or canvas tents, others constructed small log huts, while a few dug holes in the ground and covered them over Indian fashion. Not a few left the mines for the city, where provisions could be had at a lower price. Gage, Pinney and myself, when the rains commenced, procured a shelter in a large tent that belonged to some New Yorkers, and which stood near where we had been camping.
We paid two dollars each per week for the privilege of sleeping in the tent, and found our own blankets, and we considered ourselves very fortunate in obtaining so good a shelter.
About the 10th of November, Mr. Gage being somewhat indisposed, left us and went down and joined the Pelham company, about two miles above Long’s Bar. They were engaged in building a log cabin and making other preparations for the long rainy season. Pinney and myself bought a claim in the bank of the river, for which we paid $40. It had formerly been quite productive, but had been worked back into the bank considerably. We found it to be very little, if any better, than our old claim where we began mining.
From the 30th of October to the 21st of November we labored as much as the state of the weather and the high stage of the water would admit, but owing to the large proportion of rainy weather and the many other discouragements under which we labored, and also to the high prices of provisions, we could no more than earn our expenses, and we were doing far better than the average of the miners about Bidwell’s at that time. Finally we concluded to leave the mines, for a time at least, to explore the valley and see if we could find anything to do. Accordingly we started on the afternoon of the 22nd of November and traveled down the river about 13 miles to Mayhew’s ranch, or rather tent, near the foothills.
Here we tried to procure something for supper, but all that could be bought in the line of provisions of any kind was some raw venison.
We started a fire under a tree and roasted our meat on a forked stick, and ate it without salt. This we found quite dry and not the best of living, but it was the best, and all, that our money would buy, consequently we were compelled to make the best of it. We slept under a large oak tree, and in the morning roasted and ate some more of our venison, after which we proceeded on our way down the valley.
After traveling about ten miles we came to the ranch of Charles H. Burch, where we found a boat ready to leave for Sacramento City early the next morning, and we concluded to engage a passage for that place. However, upon making application, we learned that the seats were all engaged. The boat was owned by Mr. Burch and was only a whaleboat which would seat about twenty persons.
Thomas D. Bonner was captain. Captain Bonner was formerly president of the New Hampshire Temperance Society, but had resided in Massachusetts. Some time previous to his embarkation for California he was said to be quite a poet in his way and composed many of the songs used at the temperance meetings, etc. He was formerly, according to his own account of his previous life, a real street drunkard—a mere sot. He called himself a reformed drunkard now.