Four Months Among the Gold-Finders in Alta California: Being the Diary of an Expedition From San Francisco to the Gold DistrictsVizetelly, Henry
History
Four Months Among the Gold-Finders in Alta California: Being the Diary of an Expedition From San Francisco to the Gold Districts
Vizetelly, Henry
California -- Fiction; Gold mines and mining -- Fiction
We are now regularly settled on the Bear River, and have, as yet, seen
no signs of human life round about us. The reports, therefore, which we
heard at Weber's Creek, of the gold-finders having penetrated into this
valley, would appear to have been without foundation. We have observed
a fresh-made trail, which the old trapper seems to consider passes in
the direction of the Truckee Lake; and we have noticed the remains of
several camp-fires at different parts of the valley. In all probability
this trail has been made by the Mormon emigrants, who are reported to
have gone on a gold-hunting expedition across the salt desert to the
shores of the Great Salt Lake, a distance of seven or eight hundred
miles. The old trapper had some wonderful stories to tell about the
dangers of the journey across the Salt Plain. How that a man has to
travel, from the first faint break of grey light in the morning, as
hard as his horse will carry him, over a desert of white salt--which
crunches and crumbles beneath his horse's tread at every step he
takes--until the sun has gone down behind the tall peaks of the distant
Sierra Nevada. No water but of the most brackish kind can be procured
to refresh either horse or rider through the whole of this weary route,
while their lips are parched with thirst, and their eyes and nostrils
become choked from the effects of the saline exhalations rising up on
all sides from the desert over which they are passing. And as for the
Great Salt Lake, the desolate shores of this inland sea have been, for
the most part, carefully avoided by both Indians and trappers, and no
living being has yet been found daring enough to venture far on the
bosom of its dark turbid waters; for a belief exists that a terrible
whirlpool agitates their surface, ready to swallow up everything that
may venture within the bounds of its dangerous influence.
Our cradles were finished on Monday, and the shanty on Saturday
afternoon. It includes a sort of outhouse for cooking, and the rude
palisades around are quite sufficient protection for the horses against
any attempts the Indians are likely to make to drive them off. As soon
as our building labours were over yesterday, we set to work digging and
washing, and were very successful. The country about here is of course
much more rugged than in the lower diggings. Grass is plentiful in the
valley, but the rocky heights are covered with a stinted vegetation,
offering no food to our horses. The soil, mineralogically considered,
does not seem to vary materially from that in the neighbourhood of
Weber's Creek. If anything, it is more impregnated with gold. On
Friday, Don Luis discovered a large rough lump in a canone about a mile
from the shanty; and the next evening a similar lump, though rather
smaller, was picked up by Bradley in one of his hunting excursions.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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