A large book might be filled with
the stories told by the men who found gold in the
early days. Their “lucky strikes”
in the “dry-diggings” sound like fairy
tales. Imagine turning over a big rock and then
picking up pieces of gold enough to half fill a man’s
hat from the little nest that rock had been lying
in for years and years!
And think of finding forty-three thousand
dollars in a yellow lump over a foot long, six inches
wide and four inches thick! This was the biggest
nugget on record and actually weighed one hundred and
ninety-five pounds. The next one, too, you might
have been glad to pick up, as it held a hundred and
thirty-three pounds of solid gold. Little seventy-five
and fifty-pound treasures were common, and a soldier
stopping to drink at a roadside stream found a nugget
weighing over twenty pounds lying close to his hand.
It paid to get up early those days,
also for a man in Sonora, while taking his morning
walk, struck his foot against a large stone, and forgot
the pain when he saw the stone was nearly all gold.
Another man, with good eyes, got a fifty-pound nugget
on a trail many people used all the time. One
day, after a heavy rain, a man who was leading a mule
and cart through a street in Sonora, noticed that the
wheel struck a big stone; he stooped to lift it out
of the way, and found the stone to be a lump of gold
weighing thirty-five pounds. In less than an
hour all that part of the town and the street was staked
off into mining-claims, but no more was found.
One of the largest of these nuggets was found by three
or four men, who took it to San Francisco and the
Eastern states, and exhibited it for money. They
guarded the precious thing day and night, but at last
quarrelled so that it had to be broken up and divided
between them.
The first piece Marshall found was
said to be worth about fifty cents, and the second
over five dollars. Almost all, though, that was
found was like beans or small seeds or in fine dust.
No one tried to weigh or measure such gold more correctly
than to call a pinch between the finger and thumb
a dollar’s worth, while a teaspoonful was an
ounce, or sixteen dollars’ worth. A wineglassful
meant a hundred dollars, and a tumblerful a thousand.
Miners carried their “dust” in a buckskin
bag, and this was put on the counter, and the storekeeper
took out what he thought enough to pay for the things
the miner bought. A large thumb to take a large
pinch of the gold-dust meant a good many extra dollars
to the storekeeper in ’48 and ’49.
Yet nearly every one was honest, and gold might be
left in an open tent untouched, for there was plenty
more to be had for the picking up. Those who would
rather steal than work were driven out of camp.
Some of the “sand bars,”
or banks of gravel and earth, washed down by the Yuba
River were so rich that the men could pick out a tin
cupful of gold day after day for weeks. One place
was called Tin-cup Bar for this reason. Spanish
Bar, on the American River, yielded a million dollars’
worth of dust, and at Ford’s Bar, a miner, named
Ford, took out seven hundred dollars a day for three
weeks. At Rich Bar, on the Feather River, a panful
of earth gave fifteen hundred dollars.
Yet the miners were seldom satisfied,
but were always prospecting for richer claims.
A man would shoulder his roll of blankets, his pick
and shovel, with a few cooking things, and start off
hoping to find some rich nugget, leaving a fairly
good claim untouched.
The most extravagant prices were charged
the miner for everything he had to buy. Ten dollars
apiece for pick and shovel, fifty more for a pair
of long boots, with bacon and potatoes at a dollar
and a half a pound, soon took all his gold-dust to
pay for. A dozen fresh eggs cost ten dollars,
and a box of sardines half an ounce of gold-dust, which
was eight dollars. There was no butter to buy,
for any milk was quickly sold at a dollar a pint.
The hotels charged three dollars a meal, or a dollar
for a dish of pork and beans, and a dollar for two
potatoes.
Lumber cost a dollar and a half a
foot, but carpenters would not build houses when they
could make fifty dollars a day by mining. As there
was no lumber for the cabin floors, the ground was
beaten hard and really made a good floor. In
Placerville the houses were built along the bed of
a ravine, and in sweeping these earthen floors some
one saw gold-dust glittering, and found that rich
diggings were under foot. Thereupon many of the
miners dug up their cabin floors, and one man took
about twenty thousand dollars in nuggets and gold-dust
from the small space his cabin covered.
Very few women and children came to
the mines in early days, and the first white woman
to arrive in a camp had all sorts of attentions.
Sometimes the town was named for the woman first in
the place as Sarahsville and Marietta. If a lady
visited a mining-camp, the men far and near would
drop work and come in just to look at the visitor.
One lady, who sang for the miners on her arrival in
their town, was given about five hundred dollars’
worth of gold-dust.
A child was a great curiosity, and
any pretty little girl was sure to have a collection
of nuggets or a quantity of gold-dust presented to
her. The theatre and circus companies who visited
mining-camps soon found out that a little child who
could sing or dance was a great attraction. The
miners used to throw a shower of money or nuggets at
the feet of such little favorites as we throw flowers
now.
As there were no women living here
for some time, the men having left their families
at home in the Eastern states, miners had to wash
and cook and make bread for themselves. Men who
had been lawyers or ministers at home, when there
was no one else to do such things, washed their dishes
or their red flannel shirts. On Sunday no one
worked at mining, and the men baked bread and cleaned
house, and Sunday afternoons they dried, patched,
and mended their clothes. If a minister was in
town, he held services on a hillside, or in the dining
room of some shanty called a hotel, and all the camp
came to hear him speak, or sang the hymns with him.
So the miners lived and worked and
wandered along rivers and rough mountain trails on
the west side of the Sierras, gathering up gold washed
down by mountain streams. These Argonauts, or
gold-seekers of fifty years ago, are almost all dead
now, but the treasures they found made California
known throughout the world. Their golden harvest
has made the state richer than they found it, for
they used the wealth to build cities, to cultivate
farming-lands, and to plant orchards and vineyards
where the mining-camps used to be.