Jan. 1st, 1850. It has rained hard all day. Engaged in washing and mending clothes, cooking, writing, and reading. Before we separated for the night, my friend, Dr. R., requested me to conduct “family worship.” It was a simple request and a simple act, like every act of faith, and appropriate to our situation and to the day, being the first of the year. Only those who have experienced it, especially in a situation like ours, know of the refreshing fountain of comfort which springs up in the soul while kneeling before the throne of “our Father in heaven.” It was family prayer; and we realized the delightful import of this expression. The Being to whom we addressed our prayers was at that moment looking with an eye of love upon each member of our dear families at home, and our prayers would bring peace, protection, and blessings to them. It was family prayer; and at that moment we felt the privilege of being united with the great and happy family that worship the glorious and good Being who loves and cares for all.

Jan. 2d. During the last night there was a robbery in the settlement, which caused great excitement. A miner, formerly from Ohio, but who had been many years in Oregon, where he had a pleasant home, had been induced, by the hope of making a rapid fortune, to sell his valuable property, and, taking his large family, to remove to the mines. There, by hard labor and trading, he had laid up about $4000. Most of this sum was in a trunk at the foot of the bed in their tent. During the night this trunk was taken, and the next morning was found at some distance, broken open, and the money gone. A boarder was immediately arrested on suspicion, but, after a well-conducted trial, was released. We have made 37 cents each.

Jan. 3d. It has rained hard most of the day, and there was some thunder, a very unusual occurrence in California. Spent a part of the day and all the evening with Dr. R., singing, reading, &c. At the close of our pleasant interview, again we “lifted the heart and bent the knee” in prayer to Almighty God. In our visits to each other on these rainy days, like the ladies at home, we often take our sewing with us. To-day I took a pair of stockings to darn, one of my shoes to mend, and the “Democratic Review” to read. While we plied our needles, our tongues were equally busy speaking of mutual friends and hopes.

Jan. 4th. It has been clear to-day, but, owing to the high state of the water, we could do but little. I have been favored with an introduction to Captain Wadsworth, of Connecticut, a descendant of the captain of the same name who is famous for having concealed the charter of the colony in the Charter Oak. He cordially invited me to share with him a pleasant house which he had spent some weeks in building, and which was more comfortable than any thing I had seen in the mines. The house was about ten feet square, inclosed by split rails, driven into the ground perpendicularly side by side, and filled in with clay, the whole covered with a tight canvas roof stretched over the rafters. The chimney was large, and, when well filled with blazing wood, imparted an air of comfort to every thing. We enjoyed luxuries uncommon in the mines—a table and chairs. I soon found myself at home here.

Jan. 5th. It rained again; but we could not afford to be idle, though we made a mere trifle by severe and exposing labor. To-night we have weighed our week’s earnings, and find that they amount to $1 80. It is more trying to the miner to be compelled to spend a day in idleness than to engage in the most severe labor, even though that labor be unprofitable. I have often been driven out by my own anxious thoughts to work in a severe rain.

Jan. 6th, Sunday. A cloudy, unpleasant day. This forenoon, made a “duff;” but what was to be done for a string with which to tie the bag? I looked every where, but in vain. At last I thought of my shoe-string, which I used for this purpose. When all was ready, I found that the duff was too large for the kettle, so I boiled one end first, and then turned the other, and boiled that.

Jan. 7th. Prospected with Captain Wadsworth at the Chilian diggings. This is an open, level field, through which a stream formerly ran, but which now has so little water that many of the miners take the dirt to the river to be washed. Here was a large settlement of Chilinos, who have come from their own gold mines to try their fortune here. They often bring their families with them. I saw one family, the father of which, assisted by the older children, was “panning out” gold on a stream near his rude home made of hides. The mother was washing clothes, while the infant was swinging in a basket made fast to the branches overhead. An interesting girl of five years, with a tiny pick and spade, was digging in a hole, already sunk two feet, and putting the dirt in a pan, which she would take to the stream and wash, putting the scale or two of gold into a dipper a little larger than a thimble. A heavy rain drove us home, wet and cold. It continued to rain, with a few intervals, during the remainder of the week; but a trunk of valuable books, owned by Captain Wadsworth, served to occupy our minds. These employments, with the writing of letters, singing, roasting our coffee, cooking, visiting, &c., filled up the hours of these rainy days. We have made, the whole week, $3 each.

I must again remind my reader that, if these details are uninteresting, they are yet necessary as the filling up of a miner’s life. The bright and glowing pictures presented to the public—the “news from California”—“$2,000,000 in gold-dust”—“rich discoveries”—“new diggings,” &c., must all be filled up with a back-ground of cloudy days, of rainy weeks, broken hopes, privations, sickness, many a gloomy death-scene, and many a lonely grave. With how much surprise, and often indignation, do the miners read the “accounts from the mines,” which come back to them in the newspapers from home! And with how much satisfaction do they read the few truthful descriptions which they meet.

Jan. 13th, Sunday. The roads were so impassable to-day, from the late rains, that I was unable to preach a funeral sermon at Woods’s, as I had promised. There was preaching at Curtis’s in the forenoon, by a Methodist, who gave us a good sermon, its only fault being its great length. At the close, he invited all so disposed to attend a class-meeting. Among others, a German, having an imperfect acquaintance with our language, was called upon for his “experience.” With some reluctance and hesitation, he arose, and said these few words: “I find religion good when I do my duty; and when I don’t do my duty, I find religion bad; but I shall try to try!” In the afternoon I selected for my reading-desk and pulpit the stump of a tree which had been cut down, on a level spot, in the midst of the settlement. The logs and large branches of this tree had not yet been removed for fire-wood, and furnished seats for my congregation. Our worship was very primitive, and the whole scene would have been impressive to one of our assemblies at home; but we remembered, to our edification, that God looks not upon the outward appearance, but upon the heart. The singing was excellent, conducted by a professor from the Boston Academy. After the preaching, I invited all who wished to join a choir for mutual improvement in singing to remain. A good number were present, and the professor was duly elected chorister. Our arrangement was to meet before worship on Sunday, and on Wednesday evenings, and devote two hours to this delightful employment. Those hours I shall not soon forget. Sometimes, when some old familiar tune was sung, which brought each one’s home circle before his mind, silent but eloquent tears would start in many eyes.

Jan. 14th. In company with Captain W. and Dr. R., selected a spot where a mountain ravine opens into the river, and a few yards below the place where a company of Frenchmen took out, a few months since, a large amount of gold. Our best prospect was in the channel of this mountain stream. We spent some hours in diverting the stream from its course by a dam and a canal on a small scale. Then, by bailing, we succeeded in opening the channel. Most of the upper soil, with the stones, must be removed, nearly to the primitive rock below, often a distance of some feet, always ankle or knee deep in the mud. We were greatly encouraged, in the present instance, by an indication of gold rarely presented. About four inches from the surface of the ground, and in the loose upper soil, I found a lump of gold weighing nearly three pennyweights. Greatly cheered by this circumstance, we worked away with spade and pick, with cradle and pan, hour after hour, and were rewarded by finding in our treasury at night a few bright scales of gold, amounting to 25 cents.

Jan. 15th. This morning, notwithstanding the rain, we were again at our work. We must work. In sunshine and rain, in warm and cold, in sickness and health, successful or not successful, early and late, it is work, work, WORK! Work or perish! All around us, above and below, on mountain side and stream, the rain falling fast upon them, are the miners at work—not for gold, but for bread. Lawyers, doctors, clergymen, farmers, soldiers, deserters, good and bad, from England, from America, from China, from the Islands, from every country but Russia and Japan—all, all at work at their cradles. From morning to night is heard the incessant rock, rock, rock! Over the whole mines, in streamlet, in creek, and in river, down torrent and through the valley, ever rushes on the muddy sediment from ten thousand busy rockers. Cheerful words are seldom heard, more seldom the boisterous shout and laugh which indicate success, and which, when heard, sink to a lower ebb the spirits of the unsuccessful. We have made 50 cents each.

Jan. 16th. A friend put into my hands to-day a copy of the Boston Journal. We laid it aside to read in the evening. But how was this to be accomplished? The luxury of a candle we could not afford. Our method was this: we cut and piled up a quantity of dry brush in a corner near the fire, and after supper, while one put on the brush and kept up the blaze, the other would read; and as the blaze died away, so would the voice of the reader. Our work to-day has amounted to 80 cents each.

Jan. 17th. A very rainy, cold day. As Captain W. is sorely afflicted with an eruption, which covers his whole body, probably the effects of having handled the “poison oak,” which grows over the whole country, we conclude to remain in, and finish the paper. Cutaneous diseases are cured by the use of the soap-plant—amole. Captain W. has tried it to-day, and been greatly benefited. We use it in bathing, washing clothes, dishes, &c.

Jan. 18th. It has continued to rain. There has been some excitement in a ravine near where we were at work. A company of six men found a place from which they have taken out $18 to each every day through the week. The place is now thronged. Every foot is taken up; and yet, of the hundreds there, not five have made more than their living. Some only made 12½ cents. We have worked there to-day, and made $2 each. This evening we have had a pleasant meeting of our choir.

Jan. 19th. A fine day. We have made $1 each. Upon the bank of Curtis’s Creek, two men to-day opened a rich deposit, and have brought to their tent $105, while two others, hearing of their success, commenced just above, and a company of five more below them. Those above in a short time took out $64, and those below, $112. These instances of success, being talked of at noon, created a great excitement. This afternoon the bar presented a busy scene, and before night every foot of the lower part of the bar was marked off and claimed.

Jan. 20th, Sunday. The singing and religious services were held to-day in the trading-tent of Mr. Capps. My reading-desk was a brandy-cask; and perhaps this might be said in favor of the change—it had long enough been appropriated to the service of Satan, and its conversion to a better cause was not undesirable.

Jan. 21st. The report of the success on the bar below on Saturday has gone abroad and done its work. Many miners, much excited by the rumors, greatly exaggerated by passing through the mouths of the traders, have begun to come in. New tents are springing up, and new faces are seen; but success through the day has been confined to the one deposit, which proves to have run in a rich vein for some sixty feet, occasionally disappearing, but always coming up again in the same line. A company of six miners, from Illinois, made over four pounds of gold last week, then gave up their claim, supposing it exhausted, to some friends, who made three pounds more from it to-day.

Jan. 22d. In company with several experienced and successful miners, went to some of the tributaries of the Tuolumne. We had gone three miles from home, and were prospecting some of the higher ravines, the lower being too full of water. It had been cloudy when we started, but we were so accustomed to the rains of this country that we felt no concern; but about noon a severe, cold wind sprung up, driving before it a storm of snow. It came cutting and freezing into our faces. It was one of those evils which must be met. I carried a spade in one hand, and a crow-bar in the other; and that piece of cold iron penetrated into my soul. I thought I had never before experienced the sensation of pure, unrelieved cold. The ice-water into which I plunged my hands half an hour since, on my return, felt warm. We were not at all prepared for such an event. Ah! this mountain ramble, the heavy snow-flakes and hail pelting in our faces, our hands and feet almost frozen, have gone far toward curing us of any slight remains of the “yellow fever” which may have been clinging to us!

Jan. 23d. A clear and cold day. The ground is covered with snow. Alone I went to my cold and cheerless work. Those who are counting their bright yellow coins think little of the privations which have been undergone, the agonies which have been endured—think not of the living death, the dying life it has cost to draw from the mines their golden eagles. Made to-day 75 cents.

Jan. 24th. Last night it was intensely cold, and near morning commenced snowing, which it has continued to do the whole day. A mail-agent has come in to-day, and still no letters for me. It is now thirty-nine weeks since my last letter from home was dated. I would purchase one line from my wife with all the gold I have made during those thirty-nine weeks.

To-day, while a friend was seated by me, before Captain W.’s blazing fire, we were speaking of the great number of persons who come to the mines, and, after working a few days, become discouraged, and abandon mining. He related the following instance, which he knows to have taken place. A merchant from New York recently came up with high expectations, having made all his arrangements and preparations to carry on mining for one season. The fascinating interest which invests this whole subject at a distance had drawn him on. Being a strong and vigorous man, blessed with the grace of perseverance, he attributed the want of success, of which so many complained, to their indolence or want of energy. The question he frequently put, on his way to the mines, was, “How much may be made by hard and persevering labor?” as if he thought that such labor must succeed. He reached the mines—saw, on the bar below him, some miners hard at work. As he watched them, he thought, “That, indeed, is hard work, and here is an opportunity to judge for myself.” He directed the muleteer to wait while he went down to the bar. There he saw the preparations which had been made for washing, the stones and dirt which had been removed before the gold could be reached. He saw the men at the bottom of the pit, knee deep in mud, filling the buckets. He followed those buckets to the cradle, watched the operation of washing the dirt through, the cradle. As they prepared to wash down in pans, he inquired, “How many buckets of dirt have been washed to procure the gold now in the machine?” “Twenty-five,” was the reply. “And how many buckets can be washed out in a day?” “Sometimes more and sometimes less; we wash out one hundred and fifty.” “How many men in your company?” “Four.” “While these inquiries were going on, one of the company was panning down the gold, and brought it to where they were seated upon some rocks. “How much gold is there in that pan?” he eagerly inquired. One said there was $2, while the others thought there was not so much. It was weighed, and found to be $1 62. He could make his own calculations of their day’s labor. The sum total was $9 72; for each of the four men, $2 43. He looked about him. There was all that pile of rubbish to be removed—enough to employ them the whole day—before they could wash the gold at all. “Where are your tents?” he asked. “We have none.” “Where are your provisions?” “This money is to purchase them.” “You had better purchase mine, which can be done cheap, as I shall be on my way to San Francisco in ten minutes.” And to San Francisco he returned, and in three weeks was established in a commission auction store.

Jan. 28th. Since my last date it has rained constantly, and some of the time in torrents; but little work has been done. Yesterday a miner was tried for stealing a small amount of gold, and, upon conviction, was sentenced to receive five lashes, and to leave the mines in five days. Reports have been circulating among us of some large lumps of gold having been found at Sonora, one of which, it is asserted, weighs seventy pounds.

Jan. 29th. It is a lovely spring morning, but the water is so high it is impossible to work. The notes of the robin, the thrush, and the American nightingale are heard, bringing back thoughts of the homes we have left. The miners are beginning to talk of the summer diggings upon the rivers. Many parties have gone on exploring expeditions, and it is said that thousands of miners have all their provisions purchased, and but await the melting of the snow from the mountains to cross over and take possession of the real El Dorado. Very little is doing here. We are not averaging a dollar a day on the whole creek. A gentleman from New England has just been telling me that he left a business, when he came from home, which enabled him to lay up $500 a year; but that, since he left home, which is now over a year, he has not made $200. Surely not enough to support him. A newspaper, which has strayed into the mines to-day, brings the astounding intelligence of the murder of Dr. Parkman, and the arrest and trial of Professor Webster as the murderer.

Feb. 2d. Prospected to-day with Mr. L., of Livingston Manor, upon the Hudson River. Mr. L. has a quiet, easy way, as he is seated upon some rock, examining the dirt, and turning over the stones at the bottom of some hole, which gives the impression to any one who may happen to be looking on from a distance that he is picking up pieces of gold. We were thus seated to-day, and he was scraping the clay from a stone, and showed me several small scales, when two miners, who had been working all day above us, hurried down, and eagerly asked what we had found. They would not believe when we told them, but sat there an hour, watching every movement, ready, on the appearance of the lumps, to take possession of the next claim. Miners practice many arts to deceive others with regard to what they may be doing. Especially is this the case if they are doing well, when they generally say they are doing nothing, reasoning as did Sir Walter Scott after he had published “Waverley,” and wishing to conceal his authorship. People had no right to ask if he was the author, and therefore it was right for him to deceive them. I found it was better to tell the truth. The very purpose of concealment was thus better accomplished, for, speak as you might, you were sure not to be believed, and you were thus spared the sin of a falsehood. The only indication by which I came to judge that miners were doing well in any place was to find them early and late, and constantly, at their work. Our prospecting gave us 25 cents each.

Feb. 4th. This is a day to be remembered. Letters from home! If any one would learn the full significance of these words, let him pass ten months in California without one word from his loved ones, an unhappy exile from his own family. They may be sick, suffering, dying, and he who should be near them, to care for, and protect, and comfort them, is far away, and knows not their condition. It is an era in the mines—the arrival of the mail-agent. How cheerfully are our two dollars a letter paid. It was like receiving back my family from the dead—those letters, after so long and weary a silence. I am happy, and I am miserable! I am calm, and I am fearfully excited! It is an era in the miner’s life when such, although tardy, messengers reach him. I have been present when many of these have given up to their owners their treasures of love or their burden of wretchedness. One has just opened his letter, and bursts into immoderate weeping. I inquire the cause. “My wife and child are both dead!” A physician of one of the hospitals told me that they dared not give their letters from home to those who were very sick; that in several instances they had seen persons in this condition, upon reading their letters, turn over and die.

A party of individuals, from the ranches on the plains below, passed us on their way to the headwaters of the Tuolumne, in pursuit of Indians who had stolen some of their mules. They were joined by numbers of the miners.

Feb. 5th. There is some excitement with regard to a bar one mile above us. Captain W. and myself have spent the day there, and have made $5 37 each. The lump of gold found at Sonora, and which, it was said, weighs seventy pounds, weighs only twenty-two pounds. The miner through whom I received my information had a claim next to the one in which this lump was found. It lay within two inches of the very spot where he was at work. One blow of his pick would have given him possession of it.

Feb. 6th. We have to-day made 75 cents each.

An interesting instance of success happened recently in a gulch upon the Stanislaus in our vicinity. Two young men, on their way to the mines, heard of this gulch, and concluded to commence their mining at that place; but, when they arrived there, they found the whole ground, considered favorable, occupied. Not knowing what to do or where to go, they made their first essay in a small ravine, across which a log was thrown for the convenience of the crowd constantly passing. In this ravine, and by the side of that log, they dug their hole. They came to a crevice in the rock, and saw opened before them a sight which makes the miner’s heart glad—pounds of pure virgin gold, lying in lumps and scales, but awaiting their slightest effort to transfer it to their own pockets.

Feb. 7th. This forenoon my share was 25 cents. In the afternoon visited Yorktown. The diggings here are at a distance from any stream, upon the plain; but it is probable the stream once ran over the ground where the gold is now found. Before the gold can be taken out, excavations must be made, from twelve to twenty feet in depth. One cup showed about eight ounces of beautiful gold taken out in five hours; but it must be remembered that three men had been hard at work “clearing off” for seven days, during which time no gold had been made. This work is so severe and exposing that many at Yorktown are sick with rheumatism.

Feb. 8th. We divide to-day 12 cents to each man.

The party previously mentioned, who went out in pursuit of the Indians, returned late last night, having with them the scalp of one Indian, which they had taken after decoying him into ambush. They had mutilated the body, and then dragged it about with ropes, made fast to the pummel of the saddle. They rode through the settlement, almost too drunk to keep their seats, firing their guns and pistols, while from their mouths issued volleys of shrieks and imprecations. It must be mentioned, in justice to several who started with this party, that, becoming disgusted with the proceedings of their companions, they left them, and consequently must not share in the disgrace of these transactions.

Feb. 9th. We visited a wild mountain ravine, and made $4 10 each to-day.

Feb. 11th, Monday. In the same place, we have made to each $5 62.

Feb. 12th. Have made 15 cents.

Feb. 13th. I must place a cipher against all our labors to-day. How expressive the miner’s phrase, “Worked out!” Others may go after him and make pounds of gold; but, do what he can, labor as he may, become discouraged and leave, then return again and again, for him it is “worked out,” and with “longing, lingering looks,” he at length abandons it as a hopeless task.

Feb. 14th, Mormon Gulch. The rainy season seems to have passed. To-day, in company with several companions, who purpose trying the ravine and dry diggings with me, came to this place. This is a settlement about four miles from Curtis’s. We found considerable excitement existing at Woods’s as we came through. A miner, who was well known and esteemed, was found near that settlement murdered. He started yesterday, with considerable gold, intending to establish himself in some business in Stockton. His life was taken for his money.

A quartz mountain near Woods’s, rising abruptly from the valley, and showing its glittering white crest at its summit, drew our attention. Some experiments have been made here to obtain gold from the rock, but thus far without success.

All the winter encampments are breaking up. The miners are on the move. The log and stone houses, and sometimes the tents, are deserted. Within a short distance, we saw over three hundred pack-mules, moving about in every direction.

Feb. 18th. Have spent the time since my last date in collecting the statistics of winter mining from numerous miners in the various encampments near me, and in writing to those at a greater distance. Have brought over our effects to Mormon Gulch, and selected a spot upon which to pitch our tent, at the foot of a mountain torrent, which descends here almost at once—sometimes playfully, sometimes angrily—into the valley. The mountains on both sides are high and precipitous. Directly at the foot of the cascade, it widens out into a kind of bar. Upon this we have selected a spot for our home. It is altogether one of the most romantic spots I have ever seen. From this place we have a view of a picturesque valley below and a wild cascade above us. When the stream is swollen after a heavy rain, the cascade loses its beauty, but becomes madly wild. Before we had erected our tent, the clouds, which had been lowering over us, began to pour down their contents upon us. We were all unprepared. Our provisions, clothing, and blankets were all wet. We find—too late, alas!—that we have committed the same kind of error with Cowper’s birds, who anticipated pairing time, and built their nests too early. We had thought the winter over and gone, and the rainy season past, and, leaving our winter homes, had only a small and leaky tent for our shelter. There are four of us in company. Two of these are young friends, like brothers, who left home, and have since remained together, industrious, sober, and worthy young men, formerly in the employ of one of the Lawrence manufacturing companies. The third is a sailor—noble-hearted, sincere, frank, and full of fun and glee, yet a most persevering and hard-working miner.

Feb. 20th. Our first day’s labor has given to each of us 45 cents. We have worked in a loose, talcose slate, on the edges of the stream. The gold is here coarser than in the rivers.

Feb. 21st. Have to-day made $1 each. Finding a place which seemed favorable, lying upon the bed of the stream, we began to dig down and throw off the top soil. We were soon interrupted by some persons, who said we could not work there, as they claimed it. We inquired why they had not left their pick or spade there, according to the custom. They replied that all the miners there were bound to stand by each other in maintaining their claims, which were known to each other. We find that most of the ground is held in this way, without being marked off or designated. The present alcalde, it is said, holds thirty of these claims.

Feb. 22d. Two of the company went over to the Stanislaus to prospect. In the place of gold, they brought back with them a bouquet of wild flowers, which would have graced the centre-table of any parlor. Our day’s labor gave $1 12 to each. We have been ejected from two claims to-day, after working some time upon them. It seems that comparatively a few persons have undertaken to monopolize most of the gold soil in the gulch. They have driven off a large number of French miners from what is called “French Bar,” and have likewise taken possession of that.

Feb. 23d. We have to-day divided our forces. Two of us commenced sinking a hole upon French Bar, while the others went to a small stream running through an extent of table-land on the top of the mountain. Those on the bar below, of course, labored without present remuneration, as a deep excavation must be made, requiring our united efforts for a week or ten days. Those on the hill have made enough to divide $5 10 to each of us.

Feb. 25th. Those from the mountain have brought home $5 60 to each. We have been delayed in our work in the valley by the caving in of the dirt upon us, owing to the rain. At last we were compelled to abandon it for the present.

During the last night we had a violent snow-storm, which broke down our tent over our heads.

Feb. 26th. We commenced working upon another claim, but were again driven from it. Appealed to the alcalde, who decided against us, but at the same time pointed to another place, farther from the stream, where he advised us to work. We had spent two hours in digging here, when two miners laid claim to the ground, and soon brought the alcalde, who said it was a misunderstanding, and that he had intended to give us another place, upon which he then stood. There was then no doubt, and we worked all the afternoon upon that place. From the mountain we received $1. 87 each. To our joy, we have found a plant which makes an excellent salad. It grows abundantly about us. We have lived so long without vegetables that this is a luxury.

Feb. 27th. It has been a cold day, with occasional dashes of snow. On reaching our claim in the valley, we found a miner in possession. On appealing to the alcalde, who had so decidedly given us the place only yesterday, to our surprise he again decided against us. Those upon the mountain made $6 62 to each of us. We all abandoned the valley, only retaining our claim upon the French Bar, where we left our crow-bar as our legal representative.

Feb. 28th. We had barely reached our place of labor this morning, upon the mountain, when it came on to rain so violently as to drive us home. We have spent the day in our tent, reading, writing, cooking, and sleeping.

March 4th, Monday evening. We have been kept from work for several days by the rain. Improved the time in prospecting upon the Stanislaus. Heard of a ravine near the Green Springs where much gold has been found. In the fall, when I was at Mr. Islip’s, I met an eccentric man named Texas Jack. He told me that, early in the spring previous, while passing to the Stanislaus mines by a nearer path across the mountains, he had prospected in a ravine, and from one pan full of dirt had taken nearly a pound of gold. I took the direction to the place, but, having learned not to be led by such wonderful stories, I never visited the spot. Some miners, a few weeks since, happened upon this very place, and, before their secret was discovered, had made $8000. Several others had done well there.

March 5th. We have all worked together upon the mountain to-day. During the forenoon the vein ran out, and was nowhere to be found again. We made many trials, but without success. Made $2 06 each.

March 6th. We worked in a ravine where a few rich deposits have been found. One of our number, while working with his knife, in a few moments took out three lumps, which together were worth $21 75; but, during the whole of the day, the others of the company did not make 25 cents. The fields and the mountain sides begin to be clothed with the most beautiful and variegated flowers. I had heard and read much of the flowers of California, but they far surpass my highest anticipations. They spring up at the close of the rainy season, thrive amid frost and snow, live a short life of exceeding beauty, and soon die, cut down by the heat of the dry season.

March 7th. We were driven in by the rain this afternoon, after having made $1 25 each.

March 16th, Saturday. Since my last date, more than a week since, we have dug to the bottom of our claim, though it caved in several times upon us. We were so deep in the ground that we could not throw out the dirt, and were compelled to throw it up upon a platform, and then from the hole. After digging down eighteen feet, we were troubled with water, which came in upon us so fast as to require one to be kept bailing much of the time. At last we reached the bottom, washed the gold-dirt carefully, and, as the result of a week’s labor for four of us, we shared the sum of $1 87. We have had severe and continued rains. Every thing is completely drenched. Our clothes, our blankets, our provisions, are all wet and moldy. Our fire is extinguished. The water stands in puddles under the pine boughs beneath our blankets. We were compelled to cut small drains from the middle of the tent to the large drain which surrounds it, and throw away the wet boughs, which Jack calls our feathers. Then we kindled a large fire in the tent to dry it. The playful stream, which lately ran by us so harmless, now roars and rages, and is yet rising. The miners are pitching their tents farther up the hill.

March 17th, Sunday. It was a beautiful morning. The sun shone out clear and bright. We hung out our clothes and blankets to dry. The birds sang their sweetest notes. All things seemed to be filled with grateful love to the Creator and Preserver of all. Surely our hearts should not be less disposed to devout praise and adoration. It was pleasant to follow in the services of worship, as we thought it was being conducted at home, and to make a sanctuary of our own hearts. By allowing a difference of about three hours between the time at home and here, we could enjoy this pleasure, and, at the same time with friends so far from us, be engaged in the duties of worship. These were the meetings of the heart—the reunions of faith; and they strengthened us, and led us to trust more sincerely in the good promises of our Father.

March 18th. Formed, to-day, a company for trading purposes. Three of us gave each $100. With this $300, one of our number has gone down to Stockton to purchase goods. The rest of us went over, this morning, to the Stanislaus, to prospect. During the ramble, I had collected twenty-nine varieties of flowers, some of them most beautiful.

April 1st. During the remainder of the month, and in the absence of our companion at Stockton, we made but $4 28 each. The weather became moderate, and the dry season seemed to be setting in. The wind kept steady from the dry quarter. The peculiarities of a Frenchman working near us have amused us. Rain or shine, he is always seen without his hat. He carries his rifle over his shoulder, and several pistols and his knife in his belt. When he reaches his claim, he puts down a pistol on each side of him, and his hole resembles a fort, of which he is the undisputed owner. He came from New York with his son. He was doing a business there worth $2000 a year to him, and gave $5000 for their outfit. In the ten months since he left home, he has made nothing.

There is a company here from York county, Pennsylvania, numbering fourteen strong, hard-working men. They have made but $50 the last four weeks, or an average of 14 cents a day to each one. During this time we have been exposed, every or every other day, to severe rains or snows, the ice being sometimes half an inch thick. Crowds of miners still flock in here, attracted by the fabulous reports of the richness of these mines. Some have done well—a few very well—while the miners generally have not made enough to support them.

Our trading operation did not amount to any thing. The expenses of traveling, transportation of goods, time, &c., ate up the profits. I have to-day received a letter from some friends and traveling companions from Philadelphia, inviting me to visit them with reference to some mining operations for the summer. They are living at Jacksonville, on the Tuolumne River, some miles distant from us.

April 2d. To-day have walked over to Jacksonville, where I was greeted with a cordial welcome. This is quite a settlement. There are some comfortable houses here. As in every other settlement, the houses are of every possible variety, according to the taste or means of the miner. Most of these, even in winter, are tents. Some throw up logs a few feet high, filling up with clay between the logs. The tent is then stretched above, forming a roof. When a large company are to be accommodated with room, or a trading depot is to be erected, a large frame is made, and canvas is spread over this. Those who have more regard to their own comfort or health, erect log or stone houses, covering them with thatch or shingles. I have seen some very good houses at Aqua Frio made and roofed with slate. Some comfortable wigwams are made of pine boughs thrown up in a conical form, and are quite dry. Many only spread a piece of canvas, or a blanket, over some stakes above them, while not a few make holes in the ground, where they burrow like foxes. The covers of these sometimes extend above ground, and are roofed with a plaster of clay, looking like so many tombs. The Mexicans and Chilinos put up rude frames, which they cover with hides. In two cases I have seen a kind of basket, looking like a large nest, made fast among the branches, high up in the trees. These may have been used by the Californians to guard against wild beasts. The huts of the Indians are of various kinds, always rude in their construction. They are similar to the wigwams of the wild Indians found in the Western States. There is one house, however, which deserves a passing notice. It is named Tamascal. It is made under ground, in the vicinity of the Indian settlement. In this the sick and infirm are sweated. This is a barbarous custom, and often ends the life of the poor patient.

We have spent much of the night in conversing on our plans, and I have determined to remove to this place. My friend, Mr. A., invites me to share with him his tent. He offers also to accompany me to Mormon Gulch to-morrow for my provisions, &c.

April 4th. Yesterday we walked over to the Gulch, where I made my few arrangements, received from my companions there the exact amount which I had deposited with them for trading purposes, and, having taken leave this morning, we returned, bringing sixty pounds between us, to Jacksonville.

CHAPTER V.

SOUTHERN MINES CONTINUED.

RULES OF AN ENCAMPMENT—HART’S BAR COMPANY—ARTICLES OF AGREEMENT—CANAL—AQUEDUCT—RESULTS OF MINING.

It is yet too early to do much in the river diggings, except in the making of canals, and other preparations for working the channel when the rivers are low. A large company have been thus engaged at this place for six months. Their canal is a stupendous work for this country, and is intended to drain more than a mile of the river. They expect to make at least $10,000 for each member. Their shares are sold at $1200. They are governed by strict regulations, and their officers consist of a president—a most worthy, efficient man—a vice-president, a secretary, a treasurer, and a board of directors. They have some of America’s best and most esteemed citizens. One of their number is B., of New England, an original, and always full of fun. His wit and his anecdotes do much to keep up the spirits of his companions. With his good humor, he possesses also a good heart. One very warm day I passed the canal where they had been at work, but were resting a short time under the shade of a tree. As they were rising to resume their spades and picks, B. said, “Keep your seats, gentlemen!” Then he continued, evidently under the impression that his own quiet lounge was at an end unless he could contrive to interest his listeners by spinning one of his yarns, “That reminds me,” said he, “of an old lady in our town, who was very self-conceited, and withal somewhat deaf. One Sunday she came to church very late. As she entered, the congregation, which was a crowded one, were rising for prayer. Thinking that the stir was on her account, and that all were rising to offer her a seat, she spoke out, loud enough to be heard half way up the aisle, ‘Keep your seats, gentlemen! keep your seats! don’t rise for me!’ So, gentlemen,” he continued, pulling one of his companions, who had risen, back again into his seat, “keep your seats!” A stranger, standing upon the bank of their canal, and looking down upon such a gang of Irish-appearing, hard-working miners, habited in their red flannel shirts, rough as the grisly bear, long beards, long hair, old hats, no shoes, or shoes variously patched, would hardly believe that there were those among them accustomed to the etiquette of Broadway and Chestnut Street, carrying beneath that rough exterior all which made them valued friends and citizens, faithful husbands and fathers. There was among them the nephew of Sir Robert Peele, who was accustomed to the gayety and fashion of a life at court. The miners are like the gold they seek, surrounded with dirt, rough looking, yet often possessing that sterling worth which will give them currency among the good, the gifted, and the beautiful.

As the bars upon our rivers are being occupied by such communities, it may not be uninteresting to know by what rules and regulations such communities are governed. Those here presented were drawn up by experienced lawyers, and men of wise heads and good hearts, and may serve as illustrating the mode of government common among the miners.

The following laws and regulations for the internal government of the encampment of Jacksonville were passed at a meeting held in the town for that purpose, in front of Colonel Jackson’s store, on the 20th of January, 1850:

April 15th. Many rumors reached us respecting certain rich diggings ten miles distant, among the mountains. They are named Savage’s diggings, and lie upon or near the Rattlesnake Creek. Large numbers of miners have been for some time going in that direction, while multitudes, who have been but to be disappointed, are returning. One of our friends, the president of the Jacksonville company, left for this place, promising to send us back information as to his success. We were therefore much gratified, the next day, to receive intelligence of the most encouraging character, accompanied by a message for us to hasten up as soon as possible. We made our arrangements very hastily—stewed venison, baked several loaves of bread, and made some pies of the red berry called manzanita, which has some resemblance to the cherry. It grows upon a shrub ten feet high, the bark of which is smooth, and of bright orange color. On the 11th instant we started for Savage’s diggings, in our way clambering up one of the steepest mountains I have ever seen. After a very fatiguing walk, we reached the ground by the middle of the afternoon, and were so anxious to try our luck among the crowd of adventurers, that we commenced prospecting at once. Our friend, who had come up before us, had been successful the first day; but all this was over before we reached him. Very little gold rewarded our labors. As night came on, threatening to be a cold one, we prepared to pass it as comfortably as we might. Piling up logs and brush, a bright blaze shed its cheering influence upon us. Wrapping our blankets about us, and stretching our feet to the fire, we slept soundly.

Our stay upon the mountain was brief. There was so little encouragement that it was considered best to retrace our steps. Lame, hungry, and tired, we arrived the next night at our encampment near Jacksonville.

During the following week we worked upon the banks of the river, with but small success. One day we made $2 50 each, and the other days we made nothing.

May 1st. Since my last date, we have not made enough to buy us our provisions. Much of the time, my companions being engaged upon the canal, I labored by myself. One day I made $6; and then, for a week, did not average 6 cents a day: so uncertain is the employment of mining. Cases are very frequent of persons making $100 in a day, and sometimes in a single hour, and the whole week following making nothing. I heard of a case which illustrates this point. A young man of rather indolent habits, and without the perseverance and application which, it would be supposed, are necessary to insure success in mining, happened into a valuable claim. Hiring a man to aid him, he took out, in six weeks, $4500. Near him was a company of six industrious and persevering miners. They labored on assiduously, week after week, for a period of four months, and at the end of that time they had all made about $1500. We are hoping for better success in the river diggings when the water is low. At present there is very little being accomplished. Laborers may be hired at $2 50 and $3 a day.

May 15th. During the three days immediately following my last date, I made, while working by myself, $17. Was invited to join a few miners working near me, who intend to organize a company for the purpose of mining at Hart’s Bar—a place two miles below Jacksonville—when the river shall be low enough to be worked. All of these are Southern gentlemen. One of them, a nephew of Commodore Turner, U. S. N., lost a fortune by a sudden decline in the price of cotton, and, with the hope of retrieving his condition, came to California. He has messing with him two young friends, one from Annapolis, Maryland, the other from Mobile, Alabama. There is also in the company a person who has spent eight years in the gold mines of Georgia, and possessing great skill in tracing up a vein of gold. I was not long in deciding to connect myself with them, and the next day we labored together.

One day last week, as I was walking down from Jacksonville, where I had been to purchase provisions, I saw a number of men dragging some heavy object to the edge of a hill hanging over me. Presently they pushed it over the brow, and it came tumbling, like a bag of wool, over and over, down the side of the mountain. It was a grisly bear, which had just been killed, and which weighed six hundred pounds. As the river was too high to allow crossing that evening to my camp, I accepted an invitation from the miner who had killed the bear to be his guest for the night. We feasted upon the flesh, which was tender and sweet. During the following week we had no success in gold-digging, the river being too high. It was also too early to commence working upon our canal; but on May 10th we organized into a company, put up stakes with flags, designating our claim, and made advertisement of the same in Jacksonville, leaving a certified copy with the alcalde. Then we adjourned, to meet for work on the 4th of July, in the mean time having a common purse, and sharing mutually in the profits of the whole till that time. A part of the company went up to the Rattlesnake Creek, prospecting. At this time an association—named the Adelphi Mining Association—was formed, chiefly of miners from Jacksonville, numbering twenty-nine persons. Their object was to drain a portion of the channel of Woods’s Creek, in which was a deep hole, nearly the width of the creek, and twenty yards in length. The place is two miles above the junction of the creek with the Tuolumne. Much gold had been found all along the banks, encouraging the belief that, could we drain the stream and work the bed of it, it would “pay well.” The company was a very mixed one. There were the good and the bad, the serious and the gay. As there was nothing else at this time to occupy my attention, and as it was expected to work out the claim before it would be possible to work in the river, I accepted an invitation to join this company. With seventy pounds’ burden upon my back, I walked up from Hart’s Bar, and accepted an invitation from a miner to use his tent during his absence. Last night I slept upon the ground, spreading my blankets upon a mat at the bottom of the tent. Here I slept alone, and at a distance from any other encampment. This noon, coming up to cook my dinner, a large snake crept from under the mat in the tent, and quickly disappeared in a hole near by. With a spade I dug him out, and, after killing him, found that he measured three feet ten inches. I don’t know his name, but he has a flat head, looks very brassy, and has a sharp horn at the tail. It answers the description of the horned snake. It is said that, taking the end of its tail in its mouth, it will form a perfect hoop with its body, rolling rapidly over till it reaches the object at which it aims, upon which it inflicts a severe, and sometimes fatal blow, with the horn in the tail. As I am disposed to shun the society of such suspicious creatures, I have just swung my hammock outside the tent, between two trees.

June 1st. The Adelphi Company commenced their labors on the 16th ult. We were early at work, and toiled cheerfully on, sustained by the hope that we were about to meet with success. I hardly dared to give myself up to the bright, golden anticipations of my companions; and still they seemed well founded and reasonable. The gold had been traced, in numerous rich layers and veins, down to the very edges of the deep hole in the channel. Doubtless, then, as it would naturally sink down, and settle at the lowest point, washed in by every freshet, if that point could be reached, we should find a rich deposit. A canal must be made so deep as to drain the bottom of this hole, and then a dam must turn the water around the hole, through a new channel. The canal was cut through solid slate. The work was very heavy, requiring the largest bars and picks. We worked all the time in the water. After nine days’ labor, we at length completed the canal, which is about one hundred feet in length, four in width, and five in depth. The only fear was lest it should not effectually drain the hole, without which all our labor was lost. We made the dam on the tenth day, and anxiously awaited the result. Fears were expressed, but we left at night, to meet in the morning, by which time the water would have been reduced to its level. In the morning we were there, and found, after all we could do, that there were three feet of water in the hole we wished to drain. Nothing but steam forcing-pumps would have enabled us to prosecute the work, and we silently and sadly abandoned it. I went up to my tent, and was there alone. All my efforts had failed. I was already deeply in debt for my provisions. Had I any prospect of success? Could I hope even to make enough to enable me to return to my family? The future seemed dark to me. I was desolate and disheartened. In the midst of my sadness and gloom, there came a whisper! A voice dear to me had spoken it before in my sorrow; memory now brought back the same voice, whispering to me,