On a knoll, not far from a running stream, was pitched a rough canvas
tent. It was of the "wall" sort, and was pegged to the ground with
strong fastenings. Inside were a hammock, a coarse table, two or three
stools, and some boxes and barrels. There were likewise a gridiron, a
"spider," an iron kettle, some tin dishes and cups, and a pair of
candlesticks of the same material. Outside there was a trench dug, by
way of drainage, so that the floor within was kept hard and dry; but the
floor was of earth merely. There was not a flower, or a picture, or the
least attempt at ornament whatever within the tent. Hence the interior
looked bare, sordid, and forbidding. And yet, grim as it was, the tent
had been the solitary abode of its occupant for many months. In the
midst of gold, in quantity outstripping the wildest dreams of his
boyhood, this man had chosen to be a miser. In the midst of a society
whose reckless joviality and wild profusion were perhaps without
precedent, he had chosen to be a recluse. For this self indulgence he
had to pay a price. But he consoled himself, remembering that a price
has to be paid for everything.
Chester Harding came to Bullion Flat about a year before. He had no
friends and no money. The former he could do without, he thought, but
the latter was indispensable. So he got work on the Flat, turning a
spade and plying a rocker for five dollars a day. Such work was then
better paid as a rule, but Harding, though diligent and strong, was not
used to toil, and hence was awkward and comparatively inefficient. He
improved with practice and strove doggedly on, never losing a day,
saving every penny, spending nothing for drink or good fellowship,
courting no man's smile, and indifferent to all men's frowns. He was
savagely bent on achieving independence, and in no long time, after a
fashion, he got it. Independence, in this sense, consisted in a share of
a paying claim, and in the whole of a "wall" tent. In the former he dug
and washed, morosely enough, with five or six partners; but he made up
for this enforced and distasteful social attrition by living in his tent
alone.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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