Not long after, I was awakened by Mr. Jewett, who said he wanted my blankets to be packed. I told him he couldn’t have them any more, as I was going no farther that day. He inquired the reason, and I said I could go no farther until I had some rest. He asked me if I was sick, and I asked him if he had just learned the fact. I had supposed he knew it before we started, when he promised to be so kind to me if I would go with him. He desired that I would permit him to take my gun with him, and promised to leave it at the Pelham camp. I was glad to have him do this as it would release me of that much load, and I was no more afraid to travel there in the mountains unarmed at that time than I now fear to travel the streets of Nashua in broad daylight.
This was the last I saw of Mr. Jewett. I afterwards learned that he went to the Pelham camp, where he made a short stay. He soon after went to San Francisco and started for home, as I remember, by way of Mexico, but it was said he never reached his home. What his fate was I never knew. It seemed very certain that his cowardice was a much more prominent trait in his character than his hospitality. I remained over at the place during that afternoon and night, and the next day and night. I felt somewhat rested, but did not improve much in other respects. I didn’t quite enjoy the place and thought I would try to make a little progress toward the valley.
There were two or three stopping places on the road within eight or nine miles, one of which was Strawberry Valley. I believe the first one was about three miles distant. I settled my bill and started in the morning, traveling leisurely and reached the first station, where I rested a while. I then went to the next and also to the third. I had then made about nine miles in all. Here I rested again, and at first thought I would remain until the next day, the next stopping place being twelve miles distant. As I didn’t just fancy this place, I concluded to start for the next station, and should I become exhausted before reaching it I could lie down with my blankets for the night by the side of the road in the dense woods. These mountains were very heavily timbered.
I reached the place near night but I was very tired. This “ranch” consisted of a cloth house, which contained a “bar,” table, a cooking stove, with some other furnishings. Near by was a large tent in which travelers could sleep upon the ground by paying two dollars for the privilege.
I was glad to avail myself of even this meagre benefit, but I awoke during the night suffering excruciating pains in my body and limbs. I tried in vain to rise and stand upon my feet. I believe I never suffered more severe pains than during that night. The next forenoon I succeeded, after long and laborious efforts, to get upon my feet and move about a little.
I remained here four or five days and had mended somewhat, so I was contemplating resuming my journey, when I was surprised to see an old acquaintance enter the tent. His name was George Carlton and he was from Pelham, N. H., a man of somewhat rough manners but with a kind heart. He was as glad to see me as I was him. It seemed that Jewett had informed the party at Pelham camp of the fact that he had left me in the mountains sick. There was no Jewett about Mr. Carlton. The following morning, seeing that he was making preparations to leave, some one asked him where he was intending to go. He replied that he was going into the mountains to see if he could locate Webster. Some one of the company (one of the Pelham men, I will not mention his name) said he did not believe it to be wise for them to take into camp any more invalids. Mr. Carlton made the reply that they had learned that Webster was reported sick in the mountains, and that he was about to make an effort to find him, and that if he was dead he would bury him, but if found alive, he would bring him into camp. He started on foot and alone. At a station below the place where he found me, he observed a mule straying about the woods. It was a small animal, thin and of but little value. Mr. Carlton gave the proprietor the circumstances, and he said he did not apprehend that any owner would appear for the mule, and that he could take it if he desired to do so. He led the mule as he had no saddle, and the little brute was scarcely fit for a saddle animal. It was in the forenoon of his second day out that Mr. Carlton found me. I bought a saddle from the proprietor of the place, and we started for the Pelham camp. I rode the little mule. We reached camp the next evening. Dr. Batchelder prescribed some medicine for me, which I believe was the only time I employed a physician during my stay in California.
I remained with my Pelham friends five or six days, improving in health quite rapidly.
CHAPTER IX.
MINING ON THE YUBA RIVER
Some time after we had cut the hay I met Mr. Damon, my partner, when he said that he had concluded to go to his home in the East for a short stay, and he would return probably as early as the next winter or spring. He desired me to sell the hay before the rainy season should set in and retain his part of the proceeds until his return. I proposed to send his share of whatever I should receive for the hay to him in the East, but he said that it would be his wish that I would keep it until his return.
One object I had in view when I left Nelson’s Creek was to attend to selling the hay. While it would be some time before the rainy season would set it, there was danger from fire. Everything in the valley was as dry as tinder, and the hay was on the open plain where people were passing back and forth to the mines and cities.