The story below is from the Overland Monthly, published in the Baltimore American on November 19, 1887:
On the Golden Shores – A California Pioneer’s Story
Two of us went to Sacramento again, where we met a darky who had come out from New York with George Hyatt, and he wished us to go immediately with him to Placer County. He said he had found a place where the gold could be taken out in large pieces. He had blazed the trees on the way out and could find the place again.
We started with him at once and came out at what is now called Todd’s Valley. Todd was then building his log cabin there for a store and tavern. From here we went up on the divide and, wandering about the woods, at last found the blazes on the trees, which finally led us into what is still known by the euphonious name of Shirt-tail Canon.
We camped here overnight, and in the morning set to prospecting with good results, proving the truth of our guide. We hastened back to the city, and when we returned we found a few other parties there at work. We could make four to six ounces a day, and many made as high as one thousand dollars a day with their pans.
Claims were here, as well as elsewhere, fifteen feet square. Water came in rapidly as we went down. This drove us away, and we returned for a while up to El Dorado County. This time we went high up, about fifteen miles from Johnson’s ranch on the emigrant road, intending to cross the river and go over towards Coloma after prospecting. But after we had crossed some very heavy canons and had come to the river, we found it impossible to ford it there.
About noon, one of our party fell into the river. After getting out, he spread his wet clothes on the rocks to dry, and when he went to get them, what was his astonishment to find shining in a crevice some particles of bright gold. We were not long in breaking open the rock and found that the crevice contained about sixty dollars, which we extracted with a knife and washed out in a pan.
We concluded to camp there; so, going up on the hill and staking our animals to good feed, we tried the bar. It was a small one, but we had to use crowbars and a hammer, a knife, and a pan—scarcely any dirt to wash; but we could get out from three to five pounds of gold in a day.
Every two or three days, I would saddle up and go down the old emigrant trail (then traversed daily by hundreds of emigrants from the States) and, wending my way to Johnson’s ranch, would deposit with him for safe-keeping our gold. He wished to find out where I got it, so when I started back, he would send someone to track me. I always started in the evening and camped on the road, somewhere where I found emigrants already camped so that if followed, I could manage before morning to slip away without being discovered by my shadow.
After I had done this a few times and had several thousand dollars in Johnson’s keeping, he became resolute to find out our whereabouts. So finally, he sent a lot of Indians, thirty-two in number, to track us up.
This they did the next day by following up the river and watching for some slight discoloration of the water, such as would be produced by washing the dirt. It so happened that upon going up this time, we had taken with us a Portuguese man who we wanted to do our cooking and packing, and as he was a good shot also for game.
About noon, while we were at the lower end of the bar, I heard Joe sing out, “Look out—there comes the Indians!”
And sure enough, they were approaching us from below on both sides of the river. They had no intent of harm, desiring only to find us and our whereabouts, but Portuguese Joe, without waiting for orders, opened fire.
The shot went whizzing by my head, aimed at the nearest Indian, but at the same instant, I motioned him to jump into the river, which he lost no time in doing.
The rest got away as fast as they came. I expostulated with Joe for his imprudence but he thought he knew what was right. I told him they would return and kill us all. He said, “No, Indian come no more.”
I told him we should have to look out now for they would be on us before we knew it, and where we were, it was impossible to get out except in one way, and that way these Indians knew as well as we did. Sure enough, not two hours later, the Indians made their appearance, and this time where they had the advantage on the bluff above our heads.
Our chance of getting away by the pass we had entered by was cut off, and we stood a poor showing of escaping their vengeance. Showers of arrows came down thick and fast, but by keeping up close under the hill, we managed to evade them as they overshot all the time.
We were now in a dilemma. We could not cross the river where we were, for it was a narrow channel between the sides of the gorge and the current ran very strong. As to anyone coming to our aid, that was not to be thought of, for we were miles ahead of where any prospecting had been done at that time, and there was no possibility of anyone finding us. We kept close up under the bluff all that afternoon but were kept in anxiety by the continuous rolling down of rock and stone upon us from above, and when we tried to escape these, the arrows would be brought into play.
Night came on, but we knew the darkness would not help us, for our only mode of egress was guarded by the Indians. One of our boys tried to clamber around at another place to get out and make known our situation, but failed to do so. The next morning, however, a little reconnoitering showed us one point where, by throwing a lasso up into a tree above, there might be a chance, but it would not do to try it in the daytime.
So, waiting till the dusk set in, my companion went to work to make his exit. The place was about a quarter of a mile above on the river and just where a projection of the wall of rock came down to the river, cutting off all further communication up the stream at that point. While he made the attempt, we moved about on the bar to attract attention that way in case the Indians should be on the watch. This time he succeeded, got out safely, and communicated with a body of men who came to our relief the next day—making indiscriminate war at the same time upon every Indian they met.
This was the beginning of the El Dorado Indian War in which Major McKinney and a portion of his command were killed — an incident in the history of that country that very few have ever known the cause of all — Portuguese Joe’s foolish and unprovoked shot. Many lost their lives by that Indian war.
We had escaped the Indians, but our secret diggings were overrun with men in twenty-four hours and our time was up. Within two days after we left, one man found in a crevice on the bar we had left a single piece of pure gold, weighing nine pounds.
Upon getting out, we found our horses were gone—probably taken by the Indians at the first. We left all our tools and baggage on the bar and never returned for them. We went down to Johnson’s and got from him our money that I had deposited with him. He explained that in sending up the Indians, it was with no other intention than that of discovering our whereabouts so as to reap some of the benefits, and that but for the indiscretion of our man, the Portuguese, no harm whatever would have come of their visit as they were entirely peaceable unless molested.
We soon got away from this part of the country, which was now in a state of great disturbance, and we fairly launched on a regular nomadic life of unrest, wishing to be constantly on the move, ready for adventure and chance. The men in the mines of these early days were not the stereotyped miners of the present day. They were in nearly every instance young men, full of fire and ambition, most of them gentlemen, intelligent, well-educated, and well-bred, men who had means at home but had come out here from a spirit of adventure, intending only to remain a year or two, then go home and enjoy the competency that everyone believed he was sure to obtain.
But the adage “Easy got, easy go” was verified in almost every instance, and here is just where the old Californians and their families got their prodigal habits—taking no thought for the future, living up to and beyond their incomes, however large; a habit that has become so engrafted upon even the present generation that it cannot be uprooted no matter how great the pressure of the times.
Why, even at this late day, I know men who will spend fifty dollars to have a good time at night at the opera or a banquet and its accompaniments, and borrow fifty cents to get their breakfast the next morning.
Now, as the mines promised such immense and speedy fortunes, almost all went to them in their endeavors to acquire sudden riches. Some, with only a pick, pan, and spoon or knife, met with fabulous success, while many others were doomed to as great disappointments.
Rockers sold at fifty dollars to one hundred dollars each. Men made from two ounces to twenty a day and frequently picked up pieces of from five dollars to five hundred dollars each, and I am personally acquainted with one man, a Mr. Strain (still living), who picked up a piece of pure gold that was worth ten thousand dollars. This find was made at Knapp’s ranch near Columbia in Tuolumne County.
A Frenchman, who was on the point of starving at the time, found another in Tree Pine Gulch near the same town that weighed five thousand dollars. His prosperity was too much for the temperament of the Frank, and he immediately became insane and never recovered. He died in the asylum at Stockton.
The gold was given the French Consul for the benefit of his relations in France. It is estimated on good authority that this Columbia basin, within a space of not over three miles square, has produced in all, within twenty-five years, the enormous sum of one hundred million dollars or about one-thirteenth of the product of the whole state. The largest piece of gold extracted in the state was taken from Calaveras County. It weighed one hundred and ninety-five pounds troy, or about thirty-nine thousand dollars.
-- end of story from the Overland Monthly, published in the Baltimore American on November 19, 1887.
I hope you found that as interesting as I do.
I hope you found that as interesting as I do.
Tom Correa
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