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
I received several invitations to dinner, but declined the pleasure,
preferring to be a spectator. The rice looked well enough, and the rest
of their dishes were no doubt very clean, but they had a very dubious
appearance, and were far from suggesting the idea of being good to eat.
In the store I found the storekeeper lying asleep on a mat. He was a
sleek dirty-looking object, like a fat pig with the hair scalded off,
his head being all close shaved excepting the pigtail. His opium-pipe
lay in his hand, and the lamp still burned beside him, so I supposed he
was already in the seventh heaven. The store was like other stores in
the mines, inasmuch as it contained a higgledy-piggledy collection of
provisions and clothing, but everything was Chinese excepting the boots.
These are the only articles of barbarian costume which the Chinaman
adopts, and he always wears them of an enormous size, on a scale
commensurate with the ample capacity of his other garments.
The next place I visited was Wamba’s Bar, some miles lower down the
river; and from here I intended returning to Nevada, as the season was
far advanced, and fine weather could no longer be depended upon.
The very day, however, on which I was to start, the rain commenced, and
came down in such torrents that I postponed my departure. It continued
to rain heavily for several days, and I had no choice but to remain
where I was, as the river rose rapidly to such a height as to be
perfectly impassable. It was now about eighty yards wide, and rushed
past in a raging torrent, the waves rolling several feet high. Some of
the miners up above, trusting to a longer continuance of the dry season,
had not removed their flumes from the river, and these it was now
carrying down, all broken up into fragments, along with logs and whole
pine trees, which occasionally, as they got foul of other objects,
reared straight up out of the water. It was a grand sight; the river
seemed as if it had suddenly arisen to assert its independence, and take
vengeance for all the restraints which had been placed upon it, by
demolishing flumes, dams, and bridges, and carrying off everything
within its reach.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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