Sam thought the last night would never end. He walked the deck restlessly, and tried to plan what they were going to do. Colcord he knew had schemes of his own, that Mr. Gilman would be[107] sure to follow. But how were they to get to the mines to begin with? They had no money, no friends to apply to. The day broke over the broad swell of the bay, and lifted the heavy fog that obscured the new city of San Francisco. It was as yet a wilderness of tents and canvas-covered sheds, stretching along the beach without order or regularity. Here they dropped anchor at last, and another eager crowd of adventurers landed on the shores of California. Mr. Gilman planning the voyage in the bar-room of Mooney’s tavern, or talking it over, by his comfortable fireside, was a very different person from Mr. Gilman landed on the beach at San Francisco, not knowing where to get a breakfast, or the money to pay for it. Colcord too, was more crest-fallen than Sam ever saw him before or afterwards, and condescended to say, “Well, Sammy my boy, what are we going to do first?” That was the question, for they could not sit on their chests all day and watch the vessels anchored near their own, and Mr. Gilman found, to his dismay, that it would cost twenty dollars even to land his cherished gold rocker. Colcord[108] proposed that they should try to get an advance on it, and for this the two men left Sam to look after their baggage, a very useless precaution as he soon found. The whole shore was strewn with piles of goods far more valuable than a sea chest, and lighters were already coming and going from the different ships, adding to them. Sam strolled off towards one of these, as he thought he made out the ship from which it came. He was not mistaken; the Mermaid had arrived before them, and if the disheartened boy had suddenly been set down at home, he could scarcely have felt happier, than when he saw his Rio acquaintance, John, spring on shore. It was a most fortunate meeting. John had been a Californian three whole weeks, and gave Sam an astonishing account of what was going on in the country. People had to pay fifty dollars a week for board, and poor fare at that, John said; as for the gold-washer, on which so much depended, if they got themselves to the mines they would be fortunate, and nobody wanted to buy machinery on speculation for that reason. John had gone to work already, and advised Sam to do the same. He knew men were wanted to help unload the Mermaid,[109] and other vessels in port, and some of them had ten dollars a day; boys like themselves were earning six and eight. John had not much time to talk. He looked as important as any business man on the New-York Exchange, and bustled around among the sailors and porters, assisting the clerk who had come down to take charge of the Mermaid’s cargo. Fourth of July gave no respite from business here, and but for the national flag flying from every ship, and an