The most simple of these was the pan process, which was much in favour, because the soil, or “dirt” was so rich in gold-dust that it “paid” well, and it only required that the miner should possess a pick, a shovel, and a tin pan. With this very limited stock in trade he could begin without delay, and earn at least a subsistence; perhaps even make “his pile,” or, in other words, his fortune.
One of the men connected with the party above referred to was engaged in pan-washing. He stood in a hole four feet deep, and had just filled a flat tin dish with dirt, as Frank and his companions stopped to observe him. Pouring water on the dirt, the miner set the pan down, dipped both hands into it and stirred the contents about until they became liquid mud—removing the stones in the process, and operating in such a manner that he caused some of the contents to escape, or spill, off the top at each revolution. More water was added from time to time, and the process continued until all the earthy matter was washed away, and nothing but a kind of black sand, which contained the gold, left at the bottom. The separation of the metal from the black sand was an after process, and a more difficult one. It was accomplished in some cases by means of a magnet which attracted the sand. In other cases this was blown carefully off from a sheet of paper, but a few of the miners, who managed matters in a more extensive and thorough manner, effected the separation by means of quicksilver. They mixed it with the sand, added a little water, and stirred it about until the gold amalgamated with the quicksilver, converting it into a little massive, tangible, and soft heap. It was then put into a buckskin cloth, through the pores of which the quicksilver was squeezed, leaving the pure gold behind. Any trifling quantity of the former that might still remain was afterwards evaporated on a heated shovel or pan.
An expert worker in average ground could gather and wash a panful of dirt every ten minutes. There were few places in Bigbear Gully that would not yield two shillings’ worth of gold to the panful, so that in those early days, while the surface soil was still fresh, a man could, by steady work alone—without incidental nuggets—work out gold-dust to the value of between five and six pounds sterling a day, while, occasionally, he came upon a lump, or nugget, equal, perhaps, to what he could procure by the labour of a week or more.
Many, however, of the more energetic miners worked in companies and used cradles, by means of which they washed out a much larger quantity of gold in shorter time; and in places which did not yield a sufficient return by the pan process to render it worth while working, the cradle owners obtained ample remuneration for their toil.
The cradle, which Frank and his comrades saw working not far from the pan-washer, was by no means a complex affair. It was a semi-circular trough hollowed out of a log six feet long by sixteen inches diameter. At one end of this was a perforated copper or iron plate, with a rim of iron or wood round it, on which the dirt was thrown, and water poured thereon, by one man, while the cradle was rocked by another. The gold, earth, and small gravel were thus separated from the larger stones, and washed down the trough, in which, at intervals, two tranverse bars were placed; the first of these arrested the gold, which from its great weight sunk to the bottom, while the gravel, and lighter substances, were swept away by the current. The lower bar caught any particles that, by awkward management, might have passed the upper one.
Having satisfied their curiosity, and learned from an obliging miner the method of washing the gold, our adventurers returned to Jeffson’s store, and there spent the night in discussing their plan of procedure. It was decided, first of all, that they should stick together and work in company.
“You see, mates,” observed Joe Graddy, after the others had given their opinions, “this is how it stands. I must stick by Mister Allfrey, ’cause why, we’ve bin pullin’ in the same boat together for some time past, an’ it’s nat’ral for to wish to continue so to do. Then Douglas and Meyer ought to stick to us, ’cause we have for so long stuck to them, an’ they ought to stick to one another ’cause they’re mootooally fond o’ misty-physical jabberin’ on religious subjects, which is greatly to our edification, seein’ that we don’t onderstand it, and finds it highly amoosin’ while we smoke our pipes after a hard day’s work, d’ye see? So, on them grounds, I votes that we j’ine company an’ go to work at seven o’clock to-morrow mornin’.”
“Das ist goot advise,” said the German, slapping Joe on the shoulder, “an’ I vould add mine vott, vich is, to make you commandair of de forces.”
“Very good, then I command you to shut your mouth, and go to bed.”
“Unpossabil,” replied Meyer, “for I do snor, an’ always do him troo de mout’.”