The gold hunters : $b A first-hand picture of life in California mining camps in the early fifties — John Shaqi
The gold hunters : $b A first-hand picture of life in California mining camps in the early fiftiesBorthwick, John David
History
The gold hunters : $b A first-hand picture of life in California mining camps in the early fifties
Borthwick, John David
California -- Gold discoveries; California -- Social life and customs -- 19th century; Mining camps -- California -- History
We made up for the loss of our supper by eating a hearty breakfast of
ham, beans, and eggs, and started again in company with our more
fortunate fellow-travelers. The weather was once more bright and clear,
and confined as we were between the densely wooded and steaming banks of
the river, we found the heat most oppressive.
We saw numbers of parrots of brilliant plumage, and a great many monkeys
and alligators, at which there was a constant discharge of pistols and
rifles, our passage being further enlivened by an occasional race with
some of the other boats.
The river still continued to become more rapid, and our progress was
consequently very slow. The two sailors were quite unable to work all
day at the oars; the owner of the boat was a useless encumbrance; he
could not even steer; so the gardener and myself were again obliged
occasionally to exert ourselves. The fact is, the boat was overloaded;
two men were not a sufficient crew; and if we had not worked ourselves,
we should never have got to Cruces. I wanted the other passengers to do
their share of work for the common good, but some protested they did not
know how to pull, others pleaded bad health, and the rest very coolly
said, that having paid their money to be taken to Cruces, they expected
to be taken there, and would not pull a stroke; they did not care how
long they might be on the river.
It was evident that we had made a bad bargain, and if these other
fellows would not lend a hand, it was only the more necessary that some
one else should. It was rather provoking to see them sitting doggedly
under their umbrellas, but we could not well pitch them overboard, or
put them ashore, and I comforted myself with the idea that their turn
would certainly come, notwithstanding their obstinacy.
After a tedious day, during which we had, as before, deluges of rain,
with intervals of scorching sunshine, we arrived about six o’clock at a
native settlement, where we were to spend the night.
It was a small clearing, with merely two or three huts, inhabited by
eight or ten miserable-looking natives, mostly women. Their lazy
listless way of doing things did not suit the humor we were in at all.
The invariable reply to all demands for something to eat and drink was
_poco tiempo_ (by-and-by), said in that sort of tone one would use to a
troublesome child. They knew very well we were at their mercy--we could
not go anywhere else for our supper--and they took it easy accordingly.
We succeeded at last in getting supper in instalments--now a mouthful of
ham, now an egg or a few beans, and then a cup of coffee, just as they
would make up their minds to the violent exertion of getting these
articles ready for us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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