[A Returned Washoeite's Narrative, Alta California, March 16, 1860]

 

A Returned Washoeite's Narrative.

            A gentleman who returned from Washoe a few day's since, gives us the following outline of his trip over the Sierra Nevada, to Carson Valley, from Placerville :

            We left Placerville at three o'clock in the morning. There were nine persons in and on the stage, which belonged to Brady & Co.'s Pioneer Line. It was quite dark, and twelve miles out of Placerville we found two feet of snow on the ground. It was blowing and snowing very hard from the time we left until about seven o'clock, when we reached Sportsman's Hall, about twelve miles from Placerville. This is situated in a mountainous country, and affords good entertainment for man and beast — six bits a meal. The next place in the road was "Brookliss' [Brockliss] Bridge," a distance of fourteen miles from ''Sportsman's Hall." A log hut and drinking saloon is here, where they charge two bits for a drink of execrable brandy, warranted to kill at twenty paces. After a short stop here, we continued on to "Dick's," about ten miles further. Here we arrived at three o'clock in the afternoon. "Dick's" is a small tavern, with accommodations for some twenty people. The distance from here to Strawberry Valley is about fourteen miles. We arrived there at six o'clock. From Brookliss' Bridge to Strawberry Valley, the road leads around the mountains, with scarcely width for two wagons to pass abreast; the road was exceedingly bad. At Strawberry Valley there is but one house, dignified with the name of a tavern, in which eighty persons stowed themselves — most of them, (ourselves among the number,) under the table in the dining room; everybody catching a nap where they could get it. The proprietor is very polite and attentive to his guests, and does all he can to make them comfortable.

            At six o'clock the next morning, we started across the mountains —a party of twenty-one — some in sleighs drawn by two horses each, tandem team, and the rest on mule back. The route lay for eleven miles over a rough, precipitous country. At a place called "the grade" which is on the eastern side of the summit, going down to Lake Valley, we were obliged to get out and shovel our road through the snow, from ten to twelve feet deep, for a distance of about two and a half miles. There were but four shovels along, and most of the party took turns at the labor. After four breakdowns and two capsizes, by which the shivering travelers were unceremoniously tumbled out into the snow, we arrived at Lake Valley, eleven miles from Strawberry, at twelve o'clock, and here all hands took dinner. This meal consisted of boiled beef, dried apples, beans, bread and butter, and pickles, to which the keen mountain air gave the finest relish. It was astonishing to see the edibles disappear.

            Lake Valley contains one house, a barn, and a stable. It is at the foot of the Summit Mountain. The house is a big two-story log structure, with an immense fire-place, and dining-room in the rear. The beds are all up stairs ; there are accommodations for about twenty people. We left Lake Valley about half-past one o'clock P. M., for Woodford's, a distance of about sixteen miles. Five miles this side of Woodford's, one of the sleighs hopelessly broke down, and the occupants had to foot through the snow four feet deep. On arriving at Woodford's, we found the house had been destroyed by fire two days before, and we were thus without accommodations. We arrived there just after dark. It being very cold, and no shelter, we wrapped ourselves up in our blankets, and were preparing for a night of exposure, when the stage arrived from Genoa. All hands bundled in and started for Genoa, about eight o'clock, where we arrived at half-past two in the morning, and put up at Sands' Hotel — the meanest place to be found in all this part of the country.

            Genoa is a town of about twelve habitations, including tents. The principal buildings are the Court House and apothecary's store. It is located at the foot of the mountains, in a valley about sixteen miles wide, and perhaps thirty long. There are no trees in sight, and the place has a barren, sterile look. In the morning, at six o'clock, we started for Carson City in the stage, and arrived there, over a good road, at twelve o'clock, having been two days and a half from Placerville. We put up at the St. Nicholas Hotel in Carson City.

            Carson has been so often described that a repetition of it would be needless here. It contains about forty houses, and five or six hundred inhabitants. Here the Territorial Enterprise is published, and there is a Post-Office, and Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express office.

            The route from Carson City to Virginia City, is over a bad road — leading over the side of a mountain and obstructed with rocks. We passed through Johntown, Silver City, and Gold Hill, in going there. Gold Hill has some fourteen houses. Silver City eight, and Johntown three. The owners of these consider them to be sucking Londons and New Yorks. We reached Virginia City at six o'clock in the evening. After looking about the place for some time, we came to Nettleton's Hotel, formerly kept by Madame Pixley, the pioneer lady of the place. I recommend travelers to go to Nettleton's. There are about twenty-five houses at Virginia City, including tents. No work was being done on the Comstock lead while we were there — the snow, which was from two to five feet deep, preventing. Several hundred tons of the ore was piled up on the ground outside the mouth of the mines, and this was said to be worth from $3,000 to $5,000 per ton. Prospecting parties were constantly leaving and arriving, but they could not go far for the snow.

            The distance to Flowery Diggings, from Virginia City, is five miles. Here very rich discoveries are said to have been made. While we were there it snowed and blowed heavily — obliging us, at times, to lie down in the snow to prevent being blown away. The route to Pine Nut Valley, which is about forty-five miles from Virginia City, was completely blocked up with snow. The last claims were taken up there in November, and nobody has been able to get there since. The prospecting cannot be renewed there for two or three weeks yet. Some of the richest claims in the valley or outside of the valley are supposed to be there. Hundreds of persons were carrying about specimens of silver ore from different parts of the country, and exhibiting them in Carson City and Virginia City. According to their own stories they had all got their fortunes ; places worth $50,000 were plenty as blackberries. The best looking ore I saw was some from the "Twin Lead," "Hastings" and the "Badger" claims — but being no judge of ore I am not able to speak of the richness of these specimens. Of course, I refer to claims outside of the celebrated "Comstock Lead."

            The state of society reminds me of the "'49" days of California. Gambling, fighting, drinking, and shooting — all in full blast, and more buttonholing and whispering mysteriously in corners than was ever seen in a Presidential election. Everybody is on the qui vive watching one another, and "bulling" and "bearing" silver stock. But amid all this confusion, there is what may be termed "honor among thieves." There is very little jumping of claims ; no one dares do it ; the local laws are imperative. All owners of recorded claims can hold them by local law until the first of April ; after which, if the proper amount of work has not been done on them, look out for a scattering among the dry bones. It is the same with regard to the proprietorship of house lots in the towns. A house, or in default of one, a ditch dug temporarily around the lot, makes the title good, and beyond dispute. Money is plenty. Almost everybody has it and spends it freely.

            I believe that after the snows have cleared away, there will be as rich mines discovered as even the Comstock. Not a tenth part of the country has yet been examined. All agree in one thing — that Carson Valley is the richest mineral country in the world. Old Mexican and Peruvian miners, who hastened over at the first signal gun, say that this region will turn out full as rich as Cerro Pasco, in the Peruvian Andes, Potosi, or the best silver districts of Mexico.

            Our return over the mountains was attended, if possible, with even greater hardship than in going. My horse died on the road, obliging me to walk sixteen miles through four feet depth of snow. Afterwards I rode a packer's horse, bare back, a hundred miles, into Placerville. The trail, however well beaten by the travel, is often suddenly stopped up with fierce snow storms, which come almost without any warning, and this sort of thing will continue four or six weeks yet, in all probability — after which there will be good traveling. A person starting now must expect to have a rough time of it through to Carson, and miserably poor accommodations after he gets there. My opinion is, that Washoe this spring and summer, will contain from 30,000 to 50,000 people — that there will be plenty of cash floating about, and that some of it is very likely to rub off onto any reasonably active man, who is willing to rough it a few months, and take hold of anything that will pay. But Washoe will be no place for carpet knights.