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
Out of sight of land at sea one experiences a certain feeling of
isolation: there is nothing to connect one’s ideas with the habitable
globe but the ship on which one stands; but there is also nothing to
carry the imagination beyond what one does see, and the view is limited
to a few miles. But here, we were upon an ocean of grass-covered earth,
dotted with trees, and sparkling in the sunshine with the gorgeous hues
of the dense patches of wild flowers; while far beyond the horizon of
the plains there rose mountains beyond mountains, all so distinctly seen
as to leave no uncertainty as to the shape or the relative position of
any one of them, and fading away in regular graduation till the most
distant, though clearly defined, seemed still to be the most natural and
satisfactory point at which the view should terminate. It was as if the
circumference of the earth had been lifted up to the utmost range of
vision, and there melted into air.
Such was the view ahead of us as we traveled towards the mines, where
wavy outlines of mountains appeared one above another, drawing together
as they vanished, and at last indenting the sky with the snowy peaks of
the Sierra Nevada. On either side of us the mountains, appearing above
the horizon, were hundreds of miles distant, and the view behind us was
more abruptly terminated by the Coast Range, which lies between the
Sacramento river and the Pacific.
It was the commencement of spring, and at that season the plains are
seen to advantage. But after a few weeks of dry weather the hot sun
burns up every blade of vegetation, the ground presents a cracked
surface of hard-baked earth, and the roads are ankle-deep in the finest
and most penetrating kind of dust, which rises in clouds like clouds of
smoke, saturating one’s clothes, and impregnating one’s whole system.
We made a straight course of it across the plains for about thirty
miles, changing horses occasionally at some of the numerous wayside
inns, and passing numbers of wagons drawn by teams of six or eight mules
or oxen, and laden with supplies for the mines.
The ascent from the plains was very gradual, over a hilly country, well
wooded with oaks and pines. Our pace here was not so killing as it had
been. We had frequently long hills to climb, where all hands were
obliged to get out and walk; but we made up for the delay by galloping
down the descent on the other side.
The road, which, though in some places very narrow, for the most part
spread out to two or three times the width of an ordinary road, was
covered with stumps and large rocks; it was full of deep ruts and
hollows, and roots of trees spread all over it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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