It is in rudely sealed tin cans of solid gold dust. He is well armed
and in good company. He gladly leaves the human bee-hive by the
terrific gorges of the American River. He has now learned every
trick of the mines. By pack train his treasure moves down to
Sacramento. Well mounted, Maxime is the companion of a score of
similarly fortunate returning miners. Name, nationality, and previous
history of these free lances of fortune have been dropped, like
Christian's bundle, on climbing these hills. Every man can choose
for himself a new life here, under the spicy breezes of the Sierras.
He is a law unto himself.
The young gold hunter sees, amazed, a cantonment of ten thousand
people at the bay. He safely conveys his treasure to the priests
at the mission. They are shaken from slumber of their religious
routine by eager Argonauts. Letters from Padre Francisco at Lagunitas
prove the formation of bands of predatory Mexicans. These native
Californians and Indian vagabonds are driving away unguarded
stock. They mount their fierce banditti on the humbled Don's best
horses. Coast and valley are now deserted and ungoverned. The mad
rush for gold has led the men northward.
No one dreams as yet of the great Blue Cement lead, which, from
Sierra to Mariposa, is to unbosom three hundred millions from the
beds of the old, covered geologic rivers.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114