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
Not knowing how far we might be from a store, we had brought along with
us a supply of flour, ham, beans, and tea, with which we were quite
independent. After prospecting a little, we soon found a spot on the
bank of the stream which we judged would yield us pretty fair pay for
our labor. We had some difficulty at first in bringing water to the long
tom, having to lead our hose a considerable distance up the stream to
obtain sufficient elevation; but we soon got everything in working
order, and pitched in. The gold which we found here was of the finest
kind, and required great care in washing. It was in exceedingly small
thin scales--so thin, that in washing out in a pan at the end of the
day, a scale of gold would occasionally float for an instant on the
surface of the water. This is the most valuable kind of gold dust, and
is worth one or two dollars an ounce more than the coarse chunky dust.
It was a wild rocky place where we were now located. The steep
mountains, rising abruptly all round us, so confined the view that we
seemed to be shut out from the rest of the world. The nearest village or
settlement was about ten miles distant; and all the miners on the Creek
within four or five miles living in isolated cabins, tents, and
brush-houses, or camping out on the rocks, resorted for provisions to
the small store already mentioned, which was supplied with a general
assortment of provisions and clothing.
There had still been occasional heavy rains, from which our tent was but
poor protection, and we awoke sometimes in the morning, finding small
pools of water in the folds of our blankets, and everything so soaking
wet, inside the tent as well as outside, that it was hopeless to attempt
to light a fire. On such occasions, raw ham, hard bread, and cold water
was all the breakfast we could raise; eking it out however, with an
extra pipe, and relieving our feelings by laying in fiercely with pick
and shovel.
The weather very soon, however, became quite settled. The sky was always
bright and cloudless; all verdure was fast disappearing from the hills,
and they began to look brown and scorched. The heat in the mines during
summer is greater than in most tropical countries. I have in some parts
seen the thermometer as high as 120 degrees in the shade during the
greater part of the day for three weeks at a time; but the climate is
not by any means so relaxing and oppressive as in countries where,
though the range of the thermometer is much lower, the damp suffocating
atmosphere makes the heat more severely felt. In the hottest weather in
California, it is always agreeably cool at night--sufficiently so to
make a blanket acceptable, and to enable one to enjoy a sound sleep, in
which one recovers from all the evil effects of the previous day’s
baking; and even the extreme heat of the hottest hours of the day,
though it crisps up one’s hair like that of a nigger, is still light and
exhilarating, and by no means disinclines one for bodily exertion.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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