Dan DeQuille:  Washoe Rambles

[From the San Francisco Golden Era, July 28-December 1, 1861]

Part 3 of 4 

CHAPTER VII

ABOUT two miles northward from camp towered a great hill, presenting toward us a perpendicular face, striped with horizontal strata of various colors, which we christened Union Mount, from the fact that in its face we had the National colors in stripes on an extensive scale—the "Red, White and Blue." Though the stripes were not in their proper order, and the blue was a near approach to black, yet our patriotism overlooked these minor defects, when we considered the immense size of the flag, and that it was "out in the country."

Thinking that some of the darker strata in this mountain very closely resembled coal, Bob and I determined on taking a little paseo in that direction, to satisfy ourselves in regard to the nature of the hill. Wallace and Mac also started out to see what discoveries they could make, while Capitan Juan and Charley Dootsee Capitan, took their bows and went ratting. About half a mile north of camp, we found a quantity of petrified pine and cedar wood, that had tumbled down from the face of a steep hill before us, and on looking up the hill, saw a streak of what appeared the same, with the jagged ends of boughs, trunks and stumps protruding from the strata. On going up the hill, we found this to be the case. There was a layer about two feet in thickness, of small trees, stumps, and logs, completely petrified and as hard and brittle as flint, compressed between two layers of dark, loamy-looking sandstone, and extending for some distance along the face of the hill, as regular and well defined as any of the strata. There were several strata of sandstone above this stratum of wood, and the whole capped by a layer of brown vesicular lava.

It will sufficiently explain the presence of this drift of petrified wood to repeat, what I think I have once before stated, viz.: that where these mountains now are, there once was but the level bed of a lake, and of course more or less timber was carried down by the streams emptying into it, and lodged in drifts. Under favorable circumstances this would have formed coal, but in this instance, owing to the amount of soluble minerals contained in the water by which it was permeated, it was turned to flint. When the grand upheaval of these mountains took place, of course all of the hitherto horizontal strata forming the bed of the lake, were more or less elevated, and among the rest up comes to the light of day these long buried drifts of wood. Under these sandstone strata, which are recent, come the older slates and shales; and while in the former we would be most likely, in this alkaline region, to find petrified wood, so in the latter we would be apt to find coal. The point where the upheaval of the Plutonic rocks bursts through the sedimentary layers, is on the east side of the range, which gives these strata a dip to the W.N.W., and taking the top layer at the point where we left the "Saakaape-kowus" to climb the mountains, and where it is plainly to be seen on the summit of a mountain near three thousand feet high (the one I mentioned as having the appearance of having been painted in stripes) it is easily traced from there to this region, and beyond till it enters Union Mount. Though we were distant from five to seven miles from the painted mountain while passing down the ridge, yet this strata could be distinctly seen and traced the whole afternoon, and there was not a single "fault" to be seen, and no perceptible variation in the dip from its greatest elevation on the summit, of three thousand feet, till it reached the level of the desert, or nearly so, some three miles beyond Union Mount; thus presenting an unbroken sheet over twenty miles in length.

Leaving this seam of petrified wood, we continued across the hill toward Mount Union. We saw Mr. Wallace and Mac, off to our left, walking leisurely up a broad, shallow ravine, and had it been the first time I ever "clapped eyes" on them, I should have said "those men are no miners; they are from the cow counties;" for they reminded me in every look and motion, of a couple of old ranchmen walking in the fields and making a critical examination of the just sprouting barley. But it is for all to be miners, and the lowland "style" is not bad in its place. By the time they have made a few "piles" at mining, they will have acquired the "light and fearless" tread and the "noble carriage" of the true, mountain dweller. Therefore, friends, be consoled.

In our course, Bob and I found a good spring of water bursting up in the midst of a tuft of sedgey grass, and after crossing a deep and narrow canon, reached the base of Union Mount, which we found to be quite a large mountain when viewed from near by. Strata that looked, when viewed from camp, to be no more than four feet in thickness, we now found to be twenty to thirty; and mere faint streaks of color now proved to be strata several feet thick. Mingled with the sand and pebbles, in some of the layers, we found a considerable amount of coke, or what had that appearance, in small angular pieces, scattered here and there in the midst of the conglutinated mass; but of anything like a defined vein of coal, we found no trace.

Bob started out on a shelf of rock where a stratum projected some inches beyond the one resting upon it, and standing thus with his face flat to the perpendicular cliff, edged himself far out along the face of the mountain; and, though the path he followed lay nearly level, owing to the rapid sloping of the ground at the base of the hill, soon found himself two hundred feet above the bottom of the ravine which washed the base of the cliff. I, on the other hand, was bound to climb to the "highest high," and was, after an infinite deal of hard climbing, able to stand erect upon my "pins" on the very top-most pinnacle of Union Mount. Where Bob had wandered to, I, at that time, didn't know. Being on top I was bound to have a little fun as some compensation for my trouble, and began rolling great masses of lava down over the face of the cliff. I had rolled down several great fragments, as much as I could drag to the brink, and watched them bound from shelf to shelf till bursting in a hundred pieces, when I thought I heard below me a faint shout, and thought I might be bombarding some one "dried up on the show."

This shout was one of many, all on the frantic, given by Bob, who glued and flattened like a great bat to the face of the cliff, was also watching with great interest the descent of the whizzing rocks I was hurling down from the brink, five hundred feet above; the flying rocks passed now to the right of him, now to the left of him, and every moment he expected a great block of "half a ton or more" would be started from its bed, and sliding to the brink of the square drop off against which he was posted, come down and make hash of his carcass. Those started by me were not in themselves so dangerous; as after bounding down the sloping terraces to the perpendicular part where he was clinging, they were under such headway as to leap far out from the wall and pass over him. Bob says he thought of the fable of the boys and the frogs, and really expected every moment my fun would be the death of him. However, they say, "all's well that ends well," and this ended well—perhaps by ending soon.

From my perch on the summit I had a good view of the surrounding country for several miles in all directions. Northward were hills with their bases of burnt sedimentary rock, and summits capped with black and ragged lava; southward was the great pine-crowned mountain, down whose steep slopes we had that afternoon toiled; and in the broad ravine skirting its base, was our camp. I could see the spot, but not the men or animals at this distance. Passing down the western slope of the hill, which was less precipitous than any other, I was joined by Bob who had but just succeeded in extricating himself from the ticklish position he had occupied on the face of the cliffs. Of course he blowed me up, but as I knew I deserved it, we were soon quiet. I don't know that he stood on a shelf "but six inches wide" during my bombardment, but he swears he did, and as that convinces me, I pray the reader will not remain skeptical.

On our return, we passed up the main cañon--the one in which we were camped and found any amount of wild currants, both white and red, and had a hearty feast of them. When we reached camp it was sundown, and the boys had supper all ready—a circumstance I mention, for the reason that it afforded us much satisfaction at the time. Capitan Juan and Charley had very good success in killing rats, having brought in near a dozen. Capitan Juan dressed his very nicely and cooked them in the frying pan; they were very fat and looked so nice that some of the boys tasted them, and declared that they were first-rate, "except a strong rat taste." An old Indian, two pumpkin-headed boys I have spoken of before, and Charley's father, had arrived in camp while Bob and I were out, and as there was plenty of rats, and we had been liberal with our bread, they were all in a very good humor. The little boys roasted their rats in the hot embers, putting them in, outsides, insides and all--they went the whole rat. They even gathered up the entrails from those Capitan Juan had dressed, threw them on the live coals, and after they squirmed and crackled a short time, took them off and quickly devoured them. I asked Capitan Juan if he thought it was good to eat such things; he said it was "good for them, they know no better." A philosopher could not have answered better. An Indian is in no-wise particular what he eats when he is "hoggadi," [And now, while it is in my mind, I will say that "hoggadi" is not the Piute word for hungry, as many persons imagine; the Piute for hungry is "tseaihee," (tse-a-ih-ee) and "hoggadi" is only their awkward way of pronouncing the English word, hungry.]

Capitan Juan has seen his "ups and downs" as well as the rest of us. Being in a talkative mood, this evening, he said: "I was purty well off once in California—I had fifty dollars."

The peculiar accent and intonation with which he made this announcement showed that he considered it one of some importance.

"Really John, and was you worth so much money as that?" "O, yes, I was well off—muy ricos!

"What went with all of your fortune; did some one rob you?" "O, no, no rob me. Me have mucha bad luck. Me--me bust up to smash!"

"Well, that was indeed bad. In what speculation did you fail?" "Me no sabe speck-too-latesion—what you call em speck-toolashe—high una aah, Piute?" (what is it in Piute?)

"Well, how did you lose your money? What did you go into?" "Well me go into one—"

Here John hesitated, and looked a very little foolish.

"Well, what? One very bad speculation, was it?"

"Yes, muy mala—one, mucho bad spectoolashe—she was Spanish spectulashe—lose all me money, she take all and say—`Juan, vamose!' Me no like los Señoritas—Spanish spectulashe no very good for Piute man—you think?"

"No—very bad speculation. But I suppose you went to work and earned more money?"

"No, me no want more money. Me heap mad! Me want no more Señoritas. Me come over here git Piute wife. She no want all time money, money!"

"Then you have a good Piute wife, have you?"

"Yes, muy bueno, muy bonita. Me keep her mucho well dress—give her many shirt—she has a heap o' shirt—not many Piute got so muy many shirt."

"Why, John, how many shirts has she—twenty?"

Juan looked a good deal astonished and abashed at this extravagant guessing, and seemed to have some notion of not telling the exact "quantity of shirt" his wife rejoiced in. At length he said, in a lowered voice:

"She got two, but all fix up, an' heap, O! heap o' bead on; heap o' ribbon, very nice!— Twenty shirt no good; me never see woman have twenty shirt—heap too mucho!"

I must mention that Juan brought into camp a handful of rock, which he said was "all same" as that of which the paint he used on his face was made. It was in thin scales, very soft and liable to stain the skin; but instead of being red, as we expected, was a fine brilliant yellow, much resembling chrome-yellow. On being thrown into the fire and baked for a few moments this yellow ochre changed to a bright vermilion; and this was the end of the great quicksilver speculation. Though it didn't end in smoke; it all ended in ochre. Capitan Juan felt a good deal hurt when he found out that the rock was "no good," and it was some time before he could feel assured that we did not blame him for its being a failure. He really felt worse than anyone else in the party. Capitan was one of a most serious turn of mind and very seldom joked. Whatever he said he meant; and he took everything in earnest that we said. During the whole time he was with us he never once told us a lie or did the least thing that we could find fault with. In telling of a thing he would always say it may be so—

"Paiute man no sabe stones; maybe good, maybe no good--don't know." After having smoked and chatted later than usual, we turned in for the night. We gave Capitan Juan and the other Indian men such horse-blankets as we could spare, and the little boys were compelled to shift as they best could, and "root hog or die." Charley had a piece of rug given him, about three feet square, more than half of these being holes, and with this he curled up under a sage brush as well contented as a pet spaniel. Not a grunt was heard out of one of their heads.

In the morning we thought of starting back to Silver Hill, but on our mentioning it to Capitan Juan he seemed to feel so hurt that we concluded to re-consider the matter. He took it that our turning back implied that we had lost confidence in his integrity, and assured us again and again that he was sorry the "yellow stones" were of no value; "but Piute no sabe stones," he had showed us all he promised and couldn't help it if the "yellow stones were no good;" if we would go on till noon he would show us the place where was "heap-a white stones." We finally concluded to go with him till noon, and immediately his face was radiant of smiles; he mounted his little bay and took his usual place at the head of the train, happy once more. For some three miles we traveled down the arroyo in which we had lately been encamped, then ascended its right bank and struck out in a northerly direction, in a tolerably good Indian trail. About nine o'clock we found water in a small cañon, but it was so strongly impregnated with both salt and alkali as to be almost unfit for use; however, to save the water in our canteens for a worse pinch, we all drank of this nauseous stuff. After this our trail led up a narrow and most infernal cañon for loose boulders and perpendicular terraces of sharp flinty slate. ] On getting through this pass, we passed down a narrow valley, with a gradual descent to the north through a region of country of such an uninteresting configuration that I can recall nothing except low ranges of rugged lava hills, till we camped for noon, in a cañon of a hundred yards in width, covered with a growth of rank grass three feet high, and watered by one or more springs. After turning out our animals to grass in the meadows, Capitan Juan, Bob, Mac and myself started across the hills to the westward, to see the "white stones" the Capitan had been telling us of. Having traveled over the rough hills about two miles, we came to a number of leads of gypsum quartz, cropping out in parallel lines some one to three hundred feet apart, and traceable for near a mile across the low, rolling hills. These, in some instances, contained sulphurets, and in all probability, more or less gold, but being at a distance from water and timber we only broke a few fragments from the croppings and passed them by. Without we could see the gold "sticking right out" we did not care to bother with mines in this region.

Juan now took us to his claim, which he hoped to hear us say was good, for he had "went more on it" than anything else that he owned. He said: "Sometimes I think Whan be rich hombre, poco tiempo;" proving that even the wild man of the deserts indulge in dreams of wealth hidden away in those rocky wilds where they may chance to find it, and in it a balm for all their wants and sorrows. But all who indulge in great expectations, clothing themselves in fancy's bright dress, are liable to disappointment and Juan was no exception, for his great lead, his "big thing," was only a very good article of iron ore. The weight of this had "inflamed his fancy," and he thought he had one of the best silver mines ever discovered. Pieces of this ore were so pure that, on being broken open, they exhibited a bright, glittering, metallic lustre, that wiser men than Juan might have been led to think was silver or some other valuable metal.

Poor Juan looked on his once fondly cherished lead with undisguised disgust, on hearing that it was of no value. He had commenced a shaft on the lead and had sunk a hole over four feet deep by three in diameter, with no other tools than a piece of stick, such as they carry with them and use for digging out rats. He had taken out stones of two hundred pounds in weight, and all with a bit of greasewood stick. After so much hard work, no wonder he cast reproachful glances on the "shining stones" that had deluded him and led his sober thoughts astray. He is now "down on" rock of that particular shade and lustre. "You bet, after this me know this kind; me heap sabe iron stones!" On our way to camp, I picked up several pieces of a black, shining lamellar ore, which I suppose to contain lead and antimony; and with some assistance from me in driving them out of the crevices of the rocks, Juan killed several rats. These were the only fruits of the expedition carried to camp.

From our camp we now noticed what had the appearance of a stone building some eight feet in height with regular walls; this was situated on the edge of the cañon, a mile further down, and while some said it certainly was the walls of a house, ready for the roof, and accounted for its presence by supposing some party of prospectors had found a good thing in the vicinity and were fixing for a permanent residence, others declared it to be nothing more than a pile of rocks thrown into this shape by the floods of the cañon. Capitan put an end to these disputes by saying—"Yes, that is a house, my house, me heap build um las' spring; poco tiempo me put on some canvas roof, bring me woman, me papooses—all time live like white man." Indians with such notions might easily be induced to settle down in permanent homes and comply with the requirements of civilization. Juan probably conceived the notion of erecting this building after having found the iron mine and while indulging in the brilliant dreams of wealth and "consequent consequence" which its potent glitter conjured up in his brain.

While sitting about camp I showed Juan a small piece of anthracite coal and asked him if he sabed it; after looking at it he said—"O, yes, me heap sabe that, me heap see um California, make heap fire burn." On further questioning he said he could show us plenty of coal within a day and a half's journey, to the north-east and on the east side of the same range of mountains we had been traveling in for the last three days. He said it cropped out in two places and there was a great abundance of it. But we were now getting short of provisions, not having more than would last till we could reach Silver Hill, and on having a talk over the matter it was not thought advisable under the circumstances to undertake the trip; besides it was thought doubtful whether it would pay to haul coal so far when plenty of wood was still to be obtained so much nearer the principal mining towns. Juan was anxious to have us go, but on learning the low ebb of the grub department, said we would go from Silver Hill, as we would then have a level road all the way, offering to come to that camp within three days and guide us to the coal mines; but we were all anxious to get "out of the wilderness" and reach home by the Fourth of July, and declined accepting his services.

Capitan Juan was to leave us here, as he was only about four miles from home and wanted to go and see his wife and edoowames—babies—(papoose, they imagine to be the English word for baby, and very often use it in talking with Americans). As the capitan was not to return with us, it was arranged that he was to come down to Silver Hill within four days to get the presents—blankets, etc.—promised him by Wallace for his assistance in getting Charley for him, and he now informed Wallace that he could take the boy and that he would always stay with him. Wallace promised to wait for him four days at Silver Hill and to give him in addition to the presents a letter of recommendation to all such Americans as might need his services in the mountains as a guide —a "real wano paper." Mr. Wallace gave him some flour and sugar to take home to his family, and he shook hands with Charley, who was a good deal affected at parting with the good capitan or at what he said to him, for he held his hand and spoke earnestly for sometime, then shaking the hands of Mac, and Harvey he approached Bob and myself; I took out my memorandum book and wrote a hasty note recommending him to the tender mercies of such white barbarians as he might chance to fall in with, and—as he said he might soon come to Silver City--added a few lines requesting any person whom he might show the document to in Silver City to send him to Bob or myself. This pleased him much, and if ever Capitan Juan calls on me he shall not depart hungry or naked. Shaking our hands he mounted his little bay and scampering up the bank of the ravine, turned in his saddle and waving his hand called out—`Adios!' 'Hasta otra vez, Juan, adios!" answered we, and that was the last I have ever seen of Capitan Juan.

Touching our horses with the spurs, Bob and I galloped up the cañon and overtook our party, and soon we had reached the rocky cañon we had toiled up in the forenoon, and were plunging and reeling down among its rolling boulders and over its abrupt terraces. Charley traveled sometimes behind one of the boys, sometimes on foot, and sometimes had a horse all to himself while some one of the party was stretching his legs by a walk. Being naked, except a very small patch of his middle, he looked when on horseback like a youthful circus rider, and a more lithe or better rounded form is seldom seen. When mounted on one of the horses he was in his element; no king could have felt prouder. On reaching our last night's camp we only halted a few minutes to fill our canteens and water our stock, then traveling up the cañon to the foot of the great mountain down which we had plunged and ploughed on the afternoon of the previous day, were soon dismounted and, each tugging at a lariata, were scattered about the steep face of the hill, zigzagging toward the summit, where we eventually arrived sound in "limb" but not in "wind." Traversing the trail on the ridge of the mountain, already described, we landed about an hour before sundown at our old camp, "Taaweeno Baddio."

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CHAPTER VIII

AGAIN were our saddles, blankets, pots and pans strewn on the sward of our old "Noon Camp," and the glittering barrels of our guns shone in the evening sun where hard-by in a great sage bush we stacked them. Again the blue smoke-wreaths from our camp-fire ascended the round-topped nut-pines, saying to the red children of the mountains down in their little valley, "The Waamoogenas have come;" and soon their dusky forms were seen gliding from among the groves on their way to our encampment. Our fire flashed up quickly and soon supper was prepared and eaten; a quantity of batter for slap-jacks was given to Charley for his father and particular friends, which they soon baked and devoured, with the assistance, as usual, of every Indian on the ground, masculine and feminine, great and small. While some were overhauling the harness of their horses, others, stripped to the drawers, with pants across their laps were sewing up rents, more picturesque than ornamental, in the last part of ye same; while others again, and your humble servant with them—though in justice to a certain article of apparel he should have been with the last mentioned class—were engaged in practicing at a mark with revolvers. I may with perfect propriety mention that Bob made the best single shot, driving the centre; but I blush to record that I put the greatest number of bullets the least distance from the "bull's eye." Harvey fired several very effective shots into the—the ground, both above and below the mark, but had too much regard for our feelings to do anything more. Mr. Wallace also made one splendid shot which we all heartily joined him in thinking went above or to one side of the mark, yet dangerously near.

Three or four squaws with each a young child strapped securely to a wicker frame, having at the top a little projecting dome of basket work to protect the head from the sun and from the eaves of this dome, immediately before the eyes of the imprisoned little one, a string of bits of brass, shells and other shining and tinkling toys, came down the hill and seated themselves near our fire to watch for their share of "loaves and fishes." These "babes at the breast," above mentioned, were far from being black, or even brown, yet they were not white; when I say they were a cream color I have given the best idea possible of the particular shade characterizing these `babes in the woods;" their hair at this tender and blanched stage of their existence is fine, silky, and slightly tinged with auburn where touched by the rays of the sun. They were greatly frightened at our approaching them, and their great, black, rolling eyes nearly started from their sockets when we touched them. After a short time the mothers unbound these little "imps" and allowed them to roll and tumble about in their laps in puris naturalibus, when they presented the appearance of a nest of callow birds of some large species. Charley's father sat as usual, wrapped in his robe of rabbit skins, the only article of clothing he possessed, with his chin upon his knees gazing gloomily about him with his dull, hollow eyes, racked at intervals with his terrible cough. I asked the ages of some of the children, but they could not tell after they were one year old, and wouldn't even tell that fairly. They appear to have some superstitious notions in this matter and don't like to talk on the subject —perhaps imagining it will shorten their lives to count the number of years they have lived.

I once asked Capitan Juan how old Charley was.

"Don't know," said he, "Piute never no old, may be he five year, may be hundred; Piute no count old, no good."

"How many times has there been snow on these mountains since he was born?"

"May-be two, may-be fifty; no count snow; no very good"—and he abruptly changed the subject.

As soon as it began to grow dark on the mountains the squaws lashed the edoowames into their baskets, and suspending them on their backs by a strap passing over their foreheads, the men drew their rags about them, rose up and all departed for their dwellings in the sunny little valley a quarter of a mile below. This little lap of land, resting high up on the side of the mountain, was the one bright jewel set in this great rocky spur: here were groves of timber for shade or fuel, here was grass to furnish seeds for bread, and here were springs of delicious water. Capitan Juan took care in giving us a camp to take us above and beyond this valley in which dwelt his subjects--he did not wish our animals to trample down and devour the grain fields of the villagers, and he was right. I asked the Capitan, while nooning here in going out, what he called the spot of ground on which the village stood, and at first he said it was a valley; (dootsee tooroop —little plain or valley); but at last he understood what I wished to know, and said among his people they spoke of it as the "Tooroop Awaamo poeikaya," or the "morning kissed valley." This is quite a pretty and poetical name for these wild heathens to light upon, but on observing the peculiar situation of the little valley it seems easy and matter-of-course enough; from the valley to the eastward opens a great gap or cañon extending between a high wall of rocky peaks to the desert, and the first rays of the morning sun dart up this mighty clift and rest on the little vale which gently inclines to the eastward as though the better to meet and receive his glowing beams. Sun-kissed--Taawah poiska-ya—would perhaps have been a more natural and appropriate name, but I give it as I received it: "Awaamo"—morning; "poiska" —a kiss; "poiska-ya"—kissed. The Piute names for morning, noon and night are all well-sounding names, I think—thus: "Awaamo" —morning: "Taaweeno"—noon; "Tokano"--sunset; also, the word for kiss has a cork-drawing sound—"pois-s-sk-a."

We were up and had an early breakfast the next morning, for we wished to get into Silver Hill in good season. Charley went down to the village as soon as he got up, to bid farewell to his friends and allow them to strip him of the bit of old flour sack he wore about his hips; this was according to Capitan Juan's orders, he having told us that Charley must leave the rag at the village as his people wanted it. Mr. Wallace gave him a good new sack to carry down to put on in place of his bandage, but when he returned he looked down hearted enough; his people had taken away both the old rag and the new cloth and fastened to his belt a little flipper-flapper of cotton check about four inches square; besides this they had taken away his bow and arrows and stripped him of his beads. No wonder he hung his head, after such a plucking.

Shortly after Charley returned there came a full delegation of squaws with babies, old squaws without babies, men and boys. We knew they were for making a new bargain or some kind of a muss, as soon as they approached, for the squaws all frowned as black as thunder-clouds--the old ones, as two thunder-clouds. Soon there was an immense deal of chattering among the women; they thought the presents ought to be left with them and paid now, "on the nail;" they wanted sugar, and meat, and flour; something must be given them, and not all to the capitan. Even Charley began to look cross and hang back and scold; he thought he was going at too low a figure; if sold at all he wanted to be knocked down at a decent price. His father sat as usual with his robe drawn tightly about him and his chin on his knees, but said little. Not so with the women--old and young, all rushed close up to us and darting into our faces fierce glances from their black, blazing eyes, shook their shaggy heads, gesticulated and howled—Lord how savage they were! The men were left altogether in the background, they didn't "amount to a row of pins" nor a "hill of beans." They were "moonshine," "small potatoes" and "thin sowed oats." But the women--Oh! the women! We caved; we showed them everything we possessed; all the flour, all the sugar, all the meat. We turned our pockets inside out—anything to stop their infernal howlings! We were not half so well off as they supposed, and they agreed, for a little flour, to "dry up" the fuss. Women will be women, the world over!—Oh! the women! Fearing some new whim might set them at us afresh, we took advantage of the calm to pack our traps and "git up and git" before a new storm should burst upon our defenceless heads. Thus, were we literally driven out of the mountains by an army of viragos. I pity the husbands of these dagger-tongued women.

While the highest fury of the storm was beating upon our devoted heads, I glanced at the men who were squatted about our camp and imagined I could detect a most meaning smile and gratified chuckle, as though they rejoiced and were inwardly happy that we were being treated to a slight taste of an article they were in the habit of having a great deal of--perhaps, a surfeit of this article had bowed the head of Charley's father to his knees and placed his tottering feet on the brink of the grave. But, no, I must have been mistaken in all this. Mine, were more vain imaginings. The Piute women are never heard to scold their husbands; though they "cut up" and lash children, dogs, and the Waamoogenas, their tongues are never loosened on their lords. O, Piutedom, desirable place of residence! Happy the Benedicts who dwell within thy peaceful borders!

We imagined that a practicable trail might be found down the main ridge of the range to Silver Hill, and leaving camp traveled west near two miles to gain the summit. We felt in good spirits, now that we were out of reach of the old women, whom we left busily engaged in clipping off wisps of bunch grass and tossing them into the great conical baskets on their backs, and roared right lustily--"O, ain't you mighty glad you're coming out'n the wilderness!" But we had not traveled over half a mile along the summit toward the south before we found ourselves emerging from a wood upon the very brink of a huge, impassable chasm—a sheer, smooth cliff of rocks. We turn to the east and follow along the verge of this great cañon, hoping to find some way over it to the continuation of the range beyond. As we pass down we see on the opposite side, quietly feeding in a little valley—seven of the wild horses Juan had been telling us of as we came up from Silver Hill. These are in probability American horses that have strayed from droves brought across the plains by emigrants. We were very much dissatisfied at not being able to cross the cañon, as we were anxious to have a nearer view of these horses, as there might be some in the band worth the trouble of catching. Bob, in particular, was itching to be after them; as for myself, I never itch much to be near any horse that is not warranted not to run, buck, kick, bite, strike or lie down--I'm too fat.

As we couldn't get to Silver Hill in this direction, we turned northward to strike the Saakapee Ko-wus, or red cañon we had traveled up in coming to this infernal, tiptop region. Thus, it will be seen that we had been traveling on a grand circumbendabus for the last two hours; first west, thence south, thence east, thence north, "to place of beginning" as those particular cusses, the civil engineers, are always particular to state. This masterly move--which I am proud to state was one of my own elaboration —brought us in the rear of our late enemies, but in such proximity that the stoutest among us (that's me) shook in aforesaid's boot for fear of being discovered and cut off in our retreat. But, thank both the fixed stars and the comet!--the squaws were up to their eyes in bunch grass, and having got started down the mountain, with the jackass well in advance, we (me especially ) scorned pursuit. Once we had passed down these steep terraces into the Red cañon we were all right again and could travel as fast as we saw fit, and everybody had a sudden attack of good humor. The cloud of sadness had vanished from Dootsee Capitan Charley's face and a streak of sunshine extended from ear to ear as he sat astride Wallace's big American bay; Harvey was whistling Yankee Doodle, with original variations; Mac and Wallace were loud on stock raising and the horse question; Bob was roaring right lustily for the benefit of the whole train:

"Not a doubt was heard, nor discouraging thought, As to prospect our claim we hurried: Not a partner but hoped, as he planted his foot On the spot where our fortunes lay buried."

And the remaining member of the party—whom modesty forbids me from more particularly specifying—observed with his eagle glance and in eloquent silence, all that was said, done or liable to transpire; but from the lights and shadows chasing each other over his intellectual and expressive countenance you would have known that his brain was busy with burning and mighty thoughts; yet he was silent—the day was warm and he was fat—very fat. On reaching the grove of currant bushes, we again halted and as on our upward trip, feasted on the delicious and cooling fruit. When we again moved on, Bob and Harvey staid behind to fill one of the canteens with the fruit—That evening we had them stewed: verdict by a competent jury—"Not bad to take."

A mile below the mouth of the cañon is a lake of a few acres surrounded by tall sedgy grass and black-green rushes. Bob and Harvey visited this lake and found it to contain hot water; the springs near it were also hot and the water unfit to drink. Although we left Bob and Harvey behind picking fruit, they arrived at Silver Hill but a few minutes behind us. I've forgotten to mention that we had a dog with us during all these rambles, but nevertheless such was the fact; he was a medium-sized, rough-haired, black dog, rejoicing in the possession of a restless and remarkably succinct narrative, and hungering and thirsting continually to suspend himself from the rear of some Indian's breech-clout. This little weakness or peculiarity in his disposition caused the natives to regard him with no little apprehension and to guard vigilantly against all his advances toward close communion—especially when made in the rear. Well, this "sagacious beast of pray" was left behind; we knew not where, perhaps where we gathered the currants. For some days he had been lame, the hot sand having blistered his feet, and on other occasions had lagged behind, but never so long; we now gave him up for a gone-in canine. When we landed at our old camp at Silver Hill, we found it apparently deserted; the wagon, the grub, the liquors and the camp utensils were still there, but no Scotty, no Smythee. Neither could we find any one who could give us any clue to the whereabouts of our missing companions, for all the neighboring camps were likewise deserted. We imagined that some rich strike had been made and that the whole camp had rushed forth in the most furious excitement to locate extensions. But, at last we found a man who told us that Scotty was on the west side of the range prospecting, and that Tom, and a Mr. Mitchell, had gone the day before to the southward on some kind of an expedition.

It was about two o'clock when we reached camp, and the fiery beams of the almost vertical sun beat down on our heads, and were so visibly reflected from the rocky walls of the narrow cañon, that we were well nigh cooked, as we stood in our boots; and there could be no such thing as taking either "solid" or "fluid" comfort until we had erected an awning, which with the aid of ropes, sticks and blankets we managed to do. On coming into the camp of the Waamoogenas, Charley, appeared to feel somewhat ashamed of his nakedness, and Mr. Wallace having hastily manufactured him a pair of pantaloons out of an old pair of drawers and invested him in one of his "biled shirts," he was much pleased to find himself rigged in "store clothes," but very ill at ease. He hardly dared to bend his elbows or crook his knees, and moved about as stiffly as though encased in sheet-iron. The moment his round flexible body and little limbs were hidden by his baggy clothes, for me, the charm of his presence was broken; there was but a crumpled mass of shirt and breeches with a head at one end and a pair of moccasined feet at the other—nothing to admire—the well-rounded, closely-ribbed chest, the gracefully curved back, the swelling, quivering muscles of the arms, shoulders and thighs, all were hidden, and in their room we had a jumble of cotton and woolen cloth. How common-place and tame his appearance now when contrasted with that of the wild, free Indian boy we first saw him, bounding, bow in hand, along the hills, careless, untrammelled, naked. Had he been mine I should instantly have put him back into the breech-clout--fortunately, for him, he was not. Toward evening Scotty returned, and informed us that Smyth-ee had been into the mountains toward or beyond the Arroyo Grande to look for a ranch, that tonight he would probably camp at Cliff Springs on his way back. Having eaten nothing since breakfast we now arrived at the conclusion that there would be nothing "wild" in the idea of getting a bite of dinner—it being almost sundown. What with fruit, potatoes, and such extras, we got up the "biggest spread" that had gladdened our sight for some days, and not a man lacked appetite.

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CHAPTER IX

AFTER supper we were all perfectly willing to stretch our weary limbs on blankets and packs about our camp-fire, and smoke and rest. As a matter of course, where there are a half-dozen old miners and mountaineers around a camp-fire, stories of the hardships endured and scenes witnessed in various parts of California, are sure to be told; and now Bob (Mr. Payne) spun us a yarn--a true one, mind; many who read this will recall the time and circumstances--of being caught in a terrible storm in the Sierras in the spring of '60, with a saddle-train from Nevada, en route to Washoe, via the Henness Pass.

The train was conducted by Mr. Frank Cleaveland, and consisted of thirty-five mules and carried about thirty passengers--Mr. Henry Meredith (who died like a brave man, as he was, with his face to the toe, and after firing his last shot in the massacre at Pyramid Lake, by the Piutes ), also accompanied the train, travelling in a sulky. Joe Baldwin, son of Judge Baldwin of Sacramento and who was wounded and given up for dead on the same battle-field where the gallant Meredith fell was a passenger by the train. All went well until after passing Eureka, when it set in to rain, and as the train, ascended higher into the mountains this changed to snow which soon descended so fast and furiously as to become truly alarming. The road soon became so blocked up that Meredith was obliged to abandoned his sulky and proceed on horseback. They were following the trail which had been cleared out by a party in charge of Mr. Stephen Fenn, who had been some days in the mountains, engaged in this work. Fenn had some very stout mules and a gang of seven men with him in the vicinity of Jackson's ranch, which is at or near the summit.

For many weary miles they ploughed through the snow which had completely filled the trail, taking turns at breaking the way. Often the mules would flounder and fall when it was necessary to take off the packs, hoist them up and repack. They had received a pretty thorough drenching in the rain-storm, and the weather being now very cold they were chilled to the bone; they had in the crowd several bottles of liquor and until that was exhausted endeavored to "keep their spirits up by putting spirits down."

There was a great, double-fisted Dutchman with the train who had a bottle of liquor in his pocket but had never so much as given his fellow-passengers a "smell" at his schnapps; several of the boys knew of his having this bottle and, as he had always been the first to extend his hand and assist to drain any and every flask that chanced to be circulated in his vicinity, were determined that he should "come out" with his bottle. But ye Dutcher swore no man should have a drop of his whisky. One of the passengers swore quite as stoutly that he would have "a drop," and started for the carpet-bag wherein said whisky bottle was deposited. Dutchy darted forward to defend the precious fluid and received a stout and well aimed blow upon his nose that stretched him at full length in the snow.

The bottle was extracted and passed around. Dutchy being invited to partake which he refused to do—his soul was filled with woe. When Bob, who was at the rear of the train, came along, he found the big Dutchman leaning against a tree with the blood oozing from his battered nose, blubbering like a school boy. He swore "by Got" he goes pack!" "I goes no more mit ter drain; der dirfilish shoulder-shtrikers vill murter me shoost so drue as der pees von Got in Himmel! Der feller vot make on der nose shwares dat he vill keel me--I goes pack to Newada--I goes no more mit der drain!"

"Yes you will go with the train—come on!"

"No py Got," and Mr. Dutchman braced himself stubbornly against the pine, "I goes no more mit der drain!"

The boys had now passed him and were waiting for him to come on, certainly not very patiently, chilled as they were and beaten upon by the furious storm.

"Ain't you going to move on?"

"No py Got! I moofes not on; I goes no more mit der drain. I veel not vish dat I pe murtered ant rob; I goes pack to Newada!"

"Do you know, you d—d fool, that you can't go back to Nevada? Do you know that if you attempt it you will die, and that you will die if you stand there, and that we will all freeze if we wait for you much longer—d--n you!"

"Py Got! vot fur you wait? Go on? go mit ter tiefel; py got. I goes no more mit der drain!"

"By the Eternal, sir!" cried Cleaveland rushing at the Dutchman with drawn bowie knife, "if you don't instantly start forward I'll cut one of your ears off, by G—d, sir!"

"Oh, mine Got! mine Got!" cried Dutchman nearly frightened out of his wits at the terribly earnest look o' Cleaveland--and not without reason—for he certainly would have lost one or both ears in less than five seconds, if he had not stirred his boots—"mine Got! Meestder Gleavelandt! I goes, I runs ver kweek mit der drain!" And he put both hands to his ears and shuffled ahead.

Wearily the train plunged and floundered along in a long straggling line. Another mile and two mules gave out; their packs were taken off, but they refused to rise to their feet and were left behind. Soon others gave out and were likewise left in the snow; some of the saddle mules failed and refused to carry their riders—these were led on for a while and then deserted.

Men now began to think only of themselves. All were benumbed and exhausted and it was only by the greatest efforts they were able to drag themselves along. They hoped to be able to reach Fenn's Camp that night, for they felt sure he could only be a few miles in advance; they knew it was certain death to halt, and love of life spurred them on. It was snowing as it only can snow in the elevated regions of the Sierras; snow filled the air, loaded down the trees, and in great drifts filled the trail; beyond the distance of a few yards nothing could be seen, and the train had become separated into two parties.

Meredith, Baldwin, and others who were well mounted were ahead; how far, those behind knew not. Now, when a mule sunk down, the train passed over or around him without a word being spoken, and he was left as he fell. Night now settled down among the tall pines and it was impossible to keep the trail; they could only follow on in the direction they supposed their companions had taken, encouraged once in a while by finding an exhausted mule stretched in the snow.

Bob and four others were behind the whole train, floundering nearly to their armpits in the loose bed of snow. A Spaniard who had been with them was now missing. They called his name and started to encourage him to follow, but received no answer; they could not wait or return to search for him; it was now each man for his own life. The last they remembered of him was that he was heard to mutter as he wallowed along in the rear—"Too bad, too bad, all man, all die!"

Bob and his companions were all on foot, every mule having failed; they shouted to each other occasionally, in order to keep near together, but at length Bob left them behind. They now heard Meredith and his party shouting to guide them to where they had halted, and at length caught glimpses of a fire. They had lost all knowledge of the trail, their only guide being the shouts of the advance party, who called to them at regular intervals from the summit of a little knoll behind which they were encamped.

At length, while crawling slowly along, but without the least thought of desisting in his efforts to reach the camp, Bob felt a sudden numbness in his brain, and sank down in the yielding snow without a thought of ever moving again, or the least desire to do anything but lie still and rest. For a few moments he was unconscious, but was very suddenly aroused by a gentleman, who had come out in search of them, opening his mouth and pouring some scalding hot coffee therein; but hot as it was he seized the pot and drank heartily of it. This seemed to send the life blood once more through his veins, and thinking of his comrades, still behind, he told the man to hasten to their relief as he would now be able to get forward to the camp, which was but a short distance ahead, the blaze of the fire being visible occasionally as it flared above the summit of the knoll.

Soon he reached the camp-fire, which was built over snow at least sixty feet in depth, and around which, those who had pushed on in advance, were huddled and shivering in wretched plight. In a short time the other stragglers were got in, though so exhausted and benumbed that it was necessary to lead, indeed, almost carry them. Thus were they once more gathered together; but one man, the Spaniard, was missing. It was almost impossible to keep the fire from going out entirely, as it was continually sinking deeper and deeper into the snow, and often had to be moved to a new spot. There could be no glowing coals or hot embers, for they dropped down into the snow and were immediately extinguished. It was necessary that two or three men should be constantly engaged in searching among the surrounding pines for dry twigs and pitchy knots to keep the flame alive, and all took turns in this work. Meredith and young Baldwin--though neither of them were used to "roughing it"--cheerfully took their turns at gathering wood.

Every man turned out but the Dutchman. Seated on his carpet bag in the most desirable spot at the fire, he utterly refused to move or to get a single twig. All they could get out of him was: "I pees a bassenger on dees drain, py Got! I bays mine goot moneys--you all goes mit der tyfel, py Got!"

"We are all passengers, but in a disaster of this kind we don't talk of what money we have paid, but every one turns out and does his share of work—passengers and drivers are equal now."

"Py Got, I bays mine goot dirty tollars; I wash to ride all der vay, py Got! And here I have bin maket to valk, have been strike on der nose, and losht all mine viskey; and I sues dees drain mit der law and der shquire to arrest der dammish and collect der tiefs, salt-battery, robbers, py Gott!--in Newada shoost ven I coom dare, py Got!"

The burly Dutchman looked defiantly around, but no one caring to dispute further with him, he was, for the present, allowed to rest in quiet.

The only provisions in camp were the private property of Mr. Meredith, and consisted in a champagne basket of extras not likely to be found at the stations or in Washoe; but Meredith was not the man to see his comrades in misfortune want while there was a crust remaining in his basket—meanness was foreign to his nature—the basket was opened and its contents divided among the hungry and shivering men.

During the distribution of the provisions, the Dutchman was very clamorous and greedy. He feared all would be gone before his turn came to be served: "Guetigor himmel! geef it not all out till I haf someding! Coom dees vay mit der grope! Oh! geef me someding do eat! Ach, Gott! shendlemen, shendlemen! fore der lofe of Got, I'm schtarving! Diefel, diefel; vil you not hear ven I dells you how likes der diefel Ich been hoongery?

Other men of the party patiently awaited their turn, and received their portion without a murmur, and all were disgusted with the bawling greediness displayed by the lubberly Teuton.

Bob was assisting to distribute the viands, and on reaching the Dutchman gave him a very liberal allowance: "Ach Got! not so leetle— more, more! diefel, diefel! moost I be shtarve?"

Bob gave him more, at which some of those nearest murmured. "It is not right" said they, "that this grumbling thief of a Jew should have more than ourselves. He ought not to be humored; he would eat everything and see us starve!"

"Hist, hist!" said Bob, loud enough for the Jew to overhear, "keep quiet; don't you see what my object is in giving him all he asks. He is fat, we must keep him in good order!"

"In good order? don't care a d--n whether he is in good or bad order!"

"Yes, but you soon will; don't let him overhear us or he may refuse to eat--we may soon want him."

"Oh, yes; oh yes." Bob had given them the wink—"by all means keep him fat; he is the fattest one in the crowd, and we may want him in a day or two—we'll take him first. Oh, that he may keep fat!"

The Dutchman had pricked up his ears at the first word, and the velocity of his jaws decreased, as he began to have some glimmering of what those words—"keep him fat"--might forebode. But when the speaker had concluded, and the awful meaning of those words burst in full force through his startled brain, his eyes expanded, and his lower jaw suddenly dropped. The inch of bologna he had so lately been rolling under his grinders as a "sweet morsel" now lay unheeded against his front teeth. He rolled his eyes wildly around the circle of hungry-looking men near the fire, as though computing mentally how many meals he would make for the crowd; then his jaw fell still lower, the bite of sausage rolled out upon the ground, and following the sausage—perhaps pushing it before them—came up these words, in a long, deep, guttural sigh: "Ach Gott!"

"What's the matter, sir?" asked Bob, rushing to his side, and expressing in every tone the deepest concern: "Are you sick? My God, sir! I hope you are not sick! I hope not, for if you should die of some disease we might all starve for want of meat—that is —I mean—it would be a great loss to your family."

"Ach, Guetigor himmel! No, I vas not seek—yase. I mean I vas werry seek; werry seek mit my powels. Ach Gott! werry seek—I can eat nodding; der abbetite vas gone avay. Here, dake der witties, undt geef dem to das man's dare," said Deuitcher, pointing to a man who ranked next to himself in fatness and rotundity.

The Teuton was a troubled man. Every solid inch of his fat was filled with fear. Oh, that the other fat man might eat and become fatter! Why! Oh, why, must I be the fattest in the crowd?

Having now planted a thorn deep in the well-larded side of the Dutchman that would prevent his taking a moment's rest or closing his eyes for fear of being slaughtered and cut up into steaks, the party took no further notice of him, indeed they hid many other more important things to claim their attention.

One or two men were constantly attending to the fire, which, without such attention would have perished in five minutes from the falling and drifting snow. Then, those who ventured to lie down, had to be watched and aroused, as they were sure to drop asleep and allow the snow to drift over them. Several times men were thus drifted under without being missed from the crowd till trodden on and found by those bringing wood. Joe Baldwin was once found in this way, and taken out when he was so benumbed as to be unable to stand. The ear, cheeks, noses and feet of the whole party, were more or less frozen.

Regular turns were now taken at getting wood, and when a man was caught crawling aside to lay down, or found growing dull and stupid, he was caught and pushed, pulled and thrashed about till the hot, angry blood rushed through his veins. Meredith had no blanket, or protection from the cold and storm but a shawl, yet he, Bob, and one or two others never rested for a single moment during the night. When not engaged in getting wood, they were watching and arousing their companions, some of whom took every opportunity to crawl off and lie down to sleep—though warned repeatedly that it would be their last sleep--and doubtless this watchfulness saved several lives. After young Baldwin had escaped being frozen, and had seen how quietly death might steal on through the misty, sifting storm, and enclose in his icy embrace him who was not constantly on his guard, he kept on his feet the whole time, watching the more careless and getting wood. For a boy unused to toil or hardship of any kind, he certainly behaved well; not a murmur escaped him, and the boys all agreed that he exhibited admirable "pluck."

The Teuton had persisted in maintaining his position at the fire and in his determination to get no wood, until to allow him longer exemption would be a tacit acknowledgment that they feared him, and that he was privileged to bully the whole camp. They determined that he should take his turn at getting wood or be severely punished.

Bob told him that is was now his turn to go for wood:

"I goes not vor woodt, py Got! I bays mine moneys to der ashent. Der ashent leave me to shtarve mit nodding to eat mit der shnow storms—py Got, I goes not vor wootd!"

"Yes, you will go for wood, in less than three minutes you start!"

"Py Got, I shtarts not! you all every von goes mit der divel; I shoots der vorst man vot touch me, py Got!"

"Look here, my fine fellow," said Bob, holding before the eyes of the Dutchman a most formidable bowie, "in the mountains when overtaken by a disaster of this kind every man must do his part, or according to the Laws of the Mountains he dies. Now you won't eat; you are very fat and we have decided that unless you start for wood in just three seconds you die--is it not so boys!"

"Yes, yes," they all shouted, "it is so! We are all getting hungry again, too!--Let him die!"

"Oh, mine Got! Allgahmtier Got in himmel! Shendlemens, don't be in soche a big hurry!" and he was instantly on his feet tossinghis hands up and down and whisking round and round like an enraptured Shaker in the "Scalp dance."

"He's not going! Kill him! Kill him! Cut the d—d Jew's throat!" was shouted on all sides.

"I goes. I runs mit all my might! Oh! goot shendlemens, don't kill me! don't let der man cote me droat! I vill do anyding, I will do everdings—queek tell me vich vay ish der pest woodt?"

"Boys," said a voice, "it ain't best to let him go for wood; he is fine and fat now, and—you ought to know what I mean—it will not be good for him."

"Oh, shendlemens! goot shendlemens, let me go!" cried the Dutchman, wringing his hands and casting a most piteous, appealing look on the stern, hungry faces about him. "Oh, let me all times carry voodt! I be not at all fat like I look mit mine pig pelly! It bees lager, shendlemens, lager—all ever bit lager! Dare ish a man," pointing to the one he had given the grub to, "dat ish very mooch more fatter as me, let him set py der fire; I carries woodt vor boat him and me, all two!"

"If he'll do that," cried the second fat man, "let him go, let him carry wood all night if he likes.

"O, dank you, mine goot vriends! O, dousand dimes dank you dat you say like dat!"

And the Teuton rushed out into the forest almost on a run. From that time on he was the best man in the train to carry wood.

At last daylight came and chased the lingering, reluctant shades of night from among the towering, snow laden pines. In a little hollow at the distance of a hundred yards of camp they discovered a dark, motionless mass, the nature of which they were unable at first to conjecture; but which on a closer inspection proved to be a band of a dozen of their mules. These had recovered sufficient strength to follow on along the trail as far as the camp, trusting, doubtless, that their masters would be able to furnish them food and shelter. They stood in a circle, crouched and knotted as close as it was possible for them to get to each other, and so entirely motionless that the snow melting on their backs had run down and formed icicles, reaching from their sides to the ground, to which they were frozen fast.

Shortly after daylight, Bob and another gentleman, whose name I am sorry to have forgotten, started out in search of the lost Spaniard. They did not expect to find him alive, but wished, if possible, to recover his body and put it out of the reach of bears and wolves. There was a bare possibility of his being alive, and the ever thoughtful Meredith brought out a small flask of choice brandy he had kept back for an emergency of this kind, and this the boys carried with them. They remembered the spot where they had last seen the Spaniard, and toward this they ploughed their way. At length they reached the spot, which was not over one mile from the camp instead of three, as the distance appeared to them, when, weary and benumbed, they traveled over the ground the previous night. In vain they ploughed from tree to tree and shouted the name of the missing man; not a trace of him could be seen. The cold, white mantle of snow spread unbroken on all sides under the tall, grey trunked pines and rose up and met the bowed heads of the snow-laden saplings. In the midst of this snowy waste their loudest shouts were deadened and appeared to them but faint gasps which fell to the ground at their feet, for the light, soft carpet absorbed every wave of sound, and not even a deceitful echo was returned.

They turned sadly toward camp, but halted at short intervals to call the name of the lost man. Looking over the heaped drifts of the spotless waste, it seemed almost mockery to come now and call him by name. "Hark! was there not a faint moan?" "Jose! Jose!" "There toward that large pine; that certainly was a groan!"

They hasten to the tree; the whizzing wind has scooped out the snow at its base, leaving a funnel-shaped cavity.

"Jose, Jose! He is here! I thank God that the poor fellow is yet alive!"

"Descending into the pit, they scooped away the light snow and found the object of their search wedged into a cavity in the snow bank, his hands over his face and his head resting on his knees. He had attempted to cut a tunnel with his knife horizontally into the snow bank down to the earth, but his failing strength and fast increasing numbness had prevented the full accomplishment of the purpose, though he had scooped out a hole of sufficient size to receive his body, and in one place had dug out a place down to the bare ground of sufficient size to receive his feet.

On getting him out of the hole, it was found that he was unable to speak. He understood what was said to him, but the muscles of his face were so benumbed and rigid that he had no power to move his jaws. Prying his teeth apart, he was made to swallow some of the brandy, and his hands, breast and face rubbed with the same. He groaned and opened his eyes, but was still unable to speak. They tied a sash under his arms, and one taking either end, dragged him thus over the snow to their camp, where he was finally so fully restored as to be able to converse and eat; for except his feet and one hand he was not so much frozen as benumbed, the mantle of snow which had drifted over him having saved him through the night, though he must inevitably have perished but for the assistance rendered by Bob and his friend.

While holding a sort of council to determine what was to be done to preserve their lives, they were rendered almost beside themselves with joy at hearing shouts in the forest, and seeing Mr. Fenn and his men approaching.

They learned that the camp they had vainly endeavored to reach the previous night was five miles distant. Mr. Fenn had both of his feet badly frozen and several of his men were in the same situation; in fact, all had frosted feet, fingers, ears and noses, and they were now on their way to Nevada, being satisfied that it was useless to attempt to force a passage over the summit through such mountains of snow as at present blocked the way.

The mules were gathered up, and with the stout ones before, to break the trail, they commenced the return march, picking up such mules as they found along the trail that were able to travel. The Spaniard was carried on one of the mules, and after a long and tough struggle, and enduring many hardships, they were once again safe from Sierra's terrors, but every man more or less frosted.

The Teuton began to eat again as soon as he was sure they were safe from the mountains; he could hardly do enough for Bob, and as a great proof of his affection, divulged to him the secret of his having still two whole bottles of schnapps in his carpet bag, both of which were always at his service. He considered that he had narrowly escaped being eaten, and was the happiest man alive at being still unmasticated.

When Bob had finished this long story, we were all ready to lay aside our pipes and retire to our blankets.

"When travel closes with the day, To simple fare returning, We gather in a merry group, Around the camp-fires burning. The mountain sod our couch at night, The stars keep watch above us, We think of home and fall asleep To dream of those who love us."