but would say it was from two to three weeks. Whenever I labored in my life, I always intended to keep up my end, or to perform my share of the work. No fault was made known to me here.

However, I was not feeling as well as I could desire, especially toward the close of my service there. Instead of feeling any improvement, I grew steadily worse.

The last morning I went to my work I felt miserable, but thought I would be able to overcome it, so I said nothing. I worked until noon when I felt obliged to quit for the day.

There was at that camp a man by the name of Jewett, from some place in Massachusetts, who the winter previous had stopped a while at the Pelham camp. The tragic fate of the men so near our camp seemed to make Mr. Jewett extremely nervous and timid. He seemed to be almost afraid of his own shadow, and ever after the tragedy he was talking about going to the valley, and from there to his home in New England. One obstacle to his making an immediate start was that he lacked the courage to go alone.

Two or three days after I had quit work he found some parties that were going to the valley, and as there was but two of them, he desired me to go with them to enlarge the party, and as he seemed to believe, make it safer.

I replied that as I was sick, probably I could not travel as fast as his party would desire to go, but if I did not improve in health within a few days, I thought I should go to the valley. I had no fear to travel alone and would prefer to do so, as I could take my own time. He was very urgent that I should go with him, and said as he had a pack horse, he would carry my blankets and would make the journey as comfortable as possible for me. I finally consented, almost against my better judgment. This was near the last of August or the first of September.

We started on the morning of the next day after the arrangements had been completed. His horse was at Onion Valley, about eight miles on our way. From Nelson’s Creek up the mountain, about one and one-half miles, it was very steep. That brought us to the top of the mountain. From there we traveled to Onion Valley. There we took a little refreshments and then packed the horse and started for Grass Valley, about 18 miles distant.

Although the air on the mountain was cool, the morning was pleasant. While in California I wore no coat. Shirts and pants were the clothing worn, and during the rainy season when it was cooler we wore extra flannel shirts. Blankets were much used instead of shirts when miners were not at work. At that time I was dressed with a “Hickory” shirt and thin pants, all cotton.

When we left Onion Valley my blankets were packed on the horse, as I didn’t expect to need them on the road while walking.

Soon after we left Onion Valley it commenced raining, which soon after turned into a wet snow. This melted nearly as fast as it fell, and being thinly clad as I was, I was soon wet to the skin and very cold and uncomfortable. I thought that if I could only get my blankets out of the pack to put over my shoulders it would be much more comfortable, and perhaps better for the health of a sick man.

I spoke to Mr. Jewett about it and he replied that he couldn’t get at the blankets without unpacking the horse, and that he thought I could get along without them. I said no more about the matter. We at length arrived at Grass Valley, thoroughly drenched and almost exhausted.

While Mr. Jewett and his party were pitching the tent for the night, I went into a cloth eating house and seated myself on a board before a small fire burning on the ground. After being seated there for some time I felt very faint. I could see nothing for several minutes and everything looked black. I said nothing but kept my seat, which was near the table. I soon recovered from the faintness and became partially warm.

Supper was at length announced, but I did not desire to leave my seat, neither did I feel like eating anything. I turned and faced the table, ate a small piece of a cracker and drank a little tea, paid two dollars for supper, and again faced the fire.

When it was nearly night I went over a short distance to Mr. Jewett’s camp. He said I had the scurvy, but I didn’t think so. He wanted me to get some potatoes and eat them raw, scraped in vinegar. He urged the matter so persistently that I bought a pound of small potatoes, for which I paid one dollar and a half, scraped some of them into vinegar and made an effort to take them as medicine. It was too much like an emetic for me. I threw away those I had prepared, gave the balance to Mr. Jewett, and told him that rather than eat raw potatoes I would take my chances with the scurvy. But, in fact, I did not believe I had the scurvy, and later I was thoroughly convinced that I did not have it. Mr. Jewett was very timid that night and very nervous.

Each one of the small party had some kind of firearms. I had a double barrel shotgun, which was loaded with buckshot, but during the rain it had become wet through so that it was impossible to discharge it without giving it a thorough cleaning and drying. He desired me to put it in thorough order and reload it. I told him I would not do it, that I was about to lie down and make myself as comfortable as possible.

He said we were all liable to be murdered before morning. I said to him that I felt no fear of it, and that I was willing to take the risk. The night passed quietly away, and the next morning I felt slightly rested, but no better otherwise. I had no appetite and was quite weak.

After Mr. Jewett and his party had eaten their breakfast, they packed up and started for the next camp, which was twelve or thirteen miles distant.

We soon fell in with another small party that was traveling the same way, and Jewett was very much pleased to have their company.

I could not travel as fast as the party, and falling behind I traveled alone nearly the entire distance. When I arrived at the camp I was nearly exhausted. I did not at that time look for Jewett and his party. They were preparing or eating their dinners a short distance away. But I found my blankets where he unpacked his horse, and I lay down upon them under a tree and soon fell asleep.

Not long after, I was awakened by Mr. Jewett, who said he wanted my blankets to be packed. I told him he couldn’t have them any more, as I was going no farther that day. He inquired the reason, and I said I could go no farther until I had some rest. He asked me if I was sick, and I asked him if he had just learned the fact. I had supposed he knew it before we started, when he promised to be so kind to me if I would go with him. He desired that I would permit him to take my gun with him, and promised to leave it at the Pelham camp. I was glad to have him do this as it would release me of that much load, and I was no more afraid to travel there in the mountains unarmed at that time than I now fear to travel the streets of Nashua in broad daylight.

This was the last I saw of Mr. Jewett. I afterwards learned that he went to the Pelham camp, where he made a short stay. He soon after went to San Francisco and started for home, as I remember, by way of Mexico, but it was said he never reached his home. What his fate was I never knew. It seemed very certain that his cowardice was a much more prominent trait in his character than his hospitality. I remained over at the place during that afternoon and night, and the next day and night. I felt somewhat rested, but did not improve much in other respects. I didn’t quite enjoy the place and thought I would try to make a little progress toward the valley.

There were two or three stopping places on the road within eight or nine miles, one of which was Strawberry Valley. I believe the first one was about three miles distant. I settled my bill and started in the morning, traveling leisurely and reached the first station, where I rested a while. I then went to the next and also to the third. I had then made about nine miles in all. Here I rested again, and at first thought I would remain until the next day, the next stopping place being twelve miles distant. As I didn’t just fancy this place, I concluded to start for the next station, and should I become exhausted before reaching it I could lie down with my blankets for the night by the side of the road in the dense woods. These mountains were very heavily timbered.

I reached the place near night but I was very tired. This “ranch” consisted of a cloth house, which contained a “bar,” table, a cooking stove, with some other furnishings. Near by was a large tent in which travelers could sleep upon the ground by paying two dollars for the privilege.

I was glad to avail myself of even this meagre benefit, but I awoke during the night suffering excruciating pains in my body and limbs. I tried in vain to rise and stand upon my feet. I believe I never suffered more severe pains than during that night. The next forenoon I succeeded, after long and laborious efforts, to get upon my feet and move about a little.

I remained here four or five days and had mended somewhat, so I was contemplating resuming my journey, when I was surprised to see an old acquaintance enter the tent. His name was George Carlton and he was from Pelham, N. H., a man of somewhat rough manners but with a kind heart. He was as glad to see me as I was him. It seemed that Jewett had informed the party at Pelham camp of the fact that he had left me in the mountains sick. There was no Jewett about Mr. Carlton. The following morning, seeing that he was making preparations to leave, some one asked him where he was intending to go. He replied that he was going into the mountains to see if he could locate Webster. Some one of the company (one of the Pelham men, I will not mention his name) said he did not believe it to be wise for them to take into camp any more invalids. Mr. Carlton made the reply that they had learned that Webster was reported sick in the mountains, and that he was about to make an effort to find him, and that if he was dead he would bury him, but if found alive, he would bring him into camp. He started on foot and alone. At a station below the place where he found me, he observed a mule straying about the woods. It was a small animal, thin and of but little value. Mr. Carlton gave the proprietor the circumstances, and he said he did not apprehend that any owner would appear for the mule, and that he could take it if he desired to do so. He led the mule as he had no saddle, and the little brute was scarcely fit for a saddle animal. It was in the forenoon of his second day out that Mr. Carlton found me. I bought a saddle from the proprietor of the place, and we started for the Pelham camp. I rode the little mule. We reached camp the next evening. Dr. Batchelder prescribed some medicine for me, which I believe was the only time I employed a physician during my stay in California.

I remained with my Pelham friends five or six days, improving in health quite rapidly.

CHAPTER IX.

MINING ON THE YUBA RIVER

I sold a small part of it to some one, and then went to Marysville. I there managed to dispose of the balance on condition that the purchaser should do the teaming, but that I should assist in the loading. The distance it was to be drawn was 12 or 15 miles. As it would require several days to do the teaming, and as there was no convenient place near by where I could procure board, I concluded to board myself and sleep on the hay. So I filled a half barrel with water, procured a quantity of salt pork and other provisions, which I hired drawn to the haystack.

I remained at that place and assisted the teamster in loading the hay, otherwise I had no company with the exception of coyotes, of which there were plenty.

These little animals of the wolf species were very numerous at this time. They were not dangerous, but were mischievous. They were small in size but they could make a great amount of noise. About the time it was becoming dark every evening they would begin their howling. First, the voice of one would be heard in some direction, which would seem to be answered by another in another quarter, and then another and another would follow, until there would appear to be a perfect chorus of voices, howling and barking.

I had heretofore learned to keep completely out of their way as much as was possible everything that I had that they would care to eat. However, they soon found my quarters, and I would hear them in the night all about near where I was lying. At first I took little notice of them. One night I was awakened by more noise and disturbance than was usual, when I arose to see what they were doing.

The moon shone brightly and I could see them in large numbers around and very near me. I made an effort to drive them away but they would scamper for a short distance only, when they would stand and look at me.

Upon making an investigation I found they had drawn my pork away a considerable distance into the grass. It was in a sack and had been almost under my head. They had also taken almost everything else that they could find. I took the sack of pork and some of the other most tempting articles I had to the top of the stack of hay, and after making a hole in the pile and burying them about two feet deep, I made my bed directly over them. In this way I succeeded in preserving them from the coyotes.

The next morning I discovered that they had carried away almost everything I had about the camp. They had dragged away to a considerable distance a brand new rope, about 30 feet in length. A new tin pint drinking dipper, a tin spoon, and other articles I found scattered about in various directions, and they had even invaded my water cask and taken the bung out.

I don’t now remember at what price I sold the hay, but believe it was between $40 and $50 a ton, so we made a very fair job in cutting it.

Between the time of the disposal of the hay and the time of the setting in of the rainy season, I cannot at this time give any detailed account of my work.

Some time during the season, and I believe it was during this time, I cut some more wood near Yuba City. At that time the steamboat company did not wish to buy any green wood, but they said if we should cut some and have it drawn out and piled on the bank of the river they would need it after it had become seasoned. Some one, Worcester Gage of Pelham, as I remember, cut with me. We cut quite a quantity and had it piled on the river bank below Yuba City, near an Indian village.

About this time the cholera was raging among these Indians to a fearful extent, and many of them died of the disease. It was their custom to cremate their dead bodies, which they did by placing them on a pile of wood and burning it. The flesh was burned, but the bones would remain unconsumed, which they would gather up and deposit in a small hole in the ground, dug for that purpose. When these bodies were being consumed it created a very sickening odor. After the wood became seasoned it was very convenient for these Indians to use for their domestic purposes, and they carried away considerable quantities of it.

I once tried to frighten them, telling them that I would shoot the first one that I should find in the act of removing any of the wood. It seemed to me that there was not so much removed afterwards. Before the wood was sold Mr. Gage went home to Pelham and left his share of the wood with me to be disposed of and to forward to him his share of the proceeds. I afterwards sold it and sent him his share of the money.

Some time during the fall, after I had sold the hay, I was traveling up the road going toward Bidwell’s, when I heard a horse coming behind me, and on looking back I saw some one riding toward me horseback that I soon recognized as my friend Mr. Damon, though I had supposed he was in the states. He soon overtook me and said he had been no farther than San Francisco, where he had remained for some time, and had concluded to return and not go East at present. On his reaching Marysville he had learned that I had started for Feather River mines, and he came on after me. I was not expecting him for several months and had made no plans to pay him his share for the hay, but presumed of course that he would like his money. I believe I was owing him something more than $400.

I explained to him the situation, and said that probably I did not have enough with me to settle with him in full. He said he had anticipated that situation and that I could pay him as much as I could conveniently spare, or if I could not spare him any at that time it would be just as well. After we had calculated the amount due him from me, we went into one of the cloth hotels by the roadside near by and weighed out the amount in gold dust that was his due, and which exhausted almost the whole amount I had with me. He almost absolutely refused to take it all at that time, but I insisted and he did so. As he was then present I desired to have the matter fully settled.

We then parted and he went toward Marysville, while I continued my journey toward Feather River mines. I have no remembrance of ever meeting Mr. Damon afterwards. He was a good man.

One incident that transpired during the spring of 1850 while I was in the mines of Feather River: Several of us were camped there at the time, one of whom was a man from some town in New Hampshire who crossed the plains in company with us, and whose name as I now remember it, was Watkins. He and I were taken at about the same time with a similar illness, and one was substantially as ill as the other. I didn’t apprehend that either of us was dangerously ill. Mr. Watkins soon lost his courage and began to talk that the should never again meet his friends at home. I endeavored to encourage him to the best of my ability, but it seemed to have no beneficial effect whatever.

Soon after I began to improve, but he grew worse constantly and became more despondent. We had a tent to camp in, but as it was previous to the end of the rainy season, there was yet some damp, cold, stormy weather, and it was cold in the tent.

That he might be made as comfortable as was possible, I constructed a stone fireplace at the end of the tent and built a stone chimney to a point a little higher than the ridge of the tent. This made it possible to keep a fire so as to warm the tent and keep it dry and comfortable, and it operated quite satisfactorily. Mr. Watkins seemed to be very well pleased with the arrangements, but did not improve. I nursed him to the best of my ability, but he steadily declined, and a few days later he died.

We opened a grave in a convenient place, wound his blankets about him, and buried him, which was all we could do for him. Poor Watkins! He had gone to his home, but not to the home that seemed to be uppermost in his mind.

One day in the fall of 1850, when I was in Marysville, there was an auction at which horses were being sold. A very thin, rundown horse was offered and as nobody made a bid, I started it at a small amount, and as no one raised the bid, it was knocked down to me. After making a little inquiry I learned that a man keeping a ranch a few miles out, took horses to herd. I took the horse out there and engaged him to keep it until I should call for it.

Some time in November, about the time the rainy season set in, I one day met George Carlton at Marysville. He inquired what my plans for the winter were. I had made no definite plans for the future. He suggested that we go up on the Yuba, as I remember it was to Park’s Bar, possibly it was Long’s Bar, and work with him during the rainy season at mining. I consented to go with him. At this time I believe the Pelham company had broken up and scattered. A few of the number had gone home or did so soon after, and the others were at different places. The company had made some money, but their mining claim did not yield anything near the amount of gold that was expected of it.

Previous to this time I had met James M. Butler in Marysville on his way to San Francisco and then to go home. I sent by him to my brother Moses at Pelham 18¾ ounces of gold dust, which at $16 per ounce, the California price, was worth $300. This was to pay the money borrowed to pay the expenses to California in 1849. Mr. Butler went home by the way of Mexico and had a hard journey. He arrived home in January.

Mr. Carlton and I went up the Yuba River and made a camp. I made a small quicksilver machine for washing gold. It was of my own invention and I had made one of the same kind before. It was made watertight, and when working it the back end was set lower than the front end. The quicksilver was worked in the rear end, and that end being the lowest part of the machine, the quicksilver would remain there. When the gold touched the quicksilver it would amalgamate and be held there, while the gravel would be washed away and pass out at the other end of the machine. It operated very satisfactorily.

The mines were not very rich at this place, but in good weather we could each make from $8 to $12 dollars a day, and some days considerably more. One advantage here over many other places was that the water did not give us so much trouble, as the bar was larger and higher than many others. The rainy season was not nearly so severe as was that of the year previous. We could also procure better provisions. All eatables were high, and that was to be expected, but they were of a very fair quality. We could procure plenty of either Irish or sweet potatoes, produced, I believe, at the Sandwich Islands.

Mr. Carlton cooked the meat and potatoes and I made and baked the bread and washed the dishes. We passed a very comfortable winter.

At this place were two brothers by the name of Davis from Nashua, N. H. The given name of the elder one I believe was Josiah. If I remember correctly they both lived to return home, but both died not very long after. Josiah died first. The younger one was not more than seventeen or eighteen years of age at that time, but he was very active and smart. They kept a store in quite a large cloth building very near our camp.

An elderly man from eastern Tennessee slept in the building. He was a blacksmith and was probably a man who never accumulated very much property during his life before he came to California. He owned a little forge with a kit of tools and did jobs for the miners, for which he received good pay, and he had accumulated already between $2,000 and $3,000, all of which was in gold dust and which he constantly kept secreted on the ground under his blankets where he laid. He was very jolly and happy and probably then had more money than he ever anticipated having.

Within the same building lodged a man from Virginia, a miner, a tall, spare man, always good-natured, but somewhat taciturn or reserved, and appeared to be an honest man, one which almost any one would not hesitate to trust. The Davis brothers, and some others, also slept in the same building.

I was very friendly with the Davis brothers, who by the way, were brothers of the late S. S. Davis of Nashua. I was in the building quite often when I was not at work.

One day Mr. Blacksmith came running from the building about breakfast time, almost insane with excitement. Upon making inquiry as to the cause of his grief he said some one had stolen all his purse of gold. At first it was thought he had probably mislaid it, and that it would be found where he had put it.

An investigation was made at once, after which all present were satisfied that a theft had been committed by some one, but who the guilty party was no one could seem to determine.

The first thing to be done was to make a thorough search of every person known to have been in the building that morning. That was done, and as I had been into the place, I was searched with the others, but the search revealed nothing.

There was a man there of rather eccentric character, who was also mining on the bar. He made quite

numerous inquiries, during which it was brought out that the Virginia man went to the river quite early that morning for a pail of water. After leaving the route he took, the eccentric man took the trail and followed it to near the river, where he discovered some traces or tracks leading from the trail a short distance to a place where the sand had been disturbed, as appeared, with some one’s hands.

He didn’t disturb it or even go to the place, but immediately returned and made report of his discovery. A party soon after went with him, and digging away the sand at the spot of the disturbance, the blacksmith’s bag of gold was revealed.

It was carried to the camp and Mr. Blacksmith was asked to identify his bag of gold, which he had lost. This was before he knew there was any prospect of ever recovering it. This he readily did, and when it was placed in his hands he was as happy a man as I ever saw. He was so overjoyed that he wanted to give one-half of it to those that found it.

However, the incident so shocked him that he concluded to return immediately to his home in Tennessee, where he had a daughter. Soon after he left for home.

The evidence against the Virginian seemed to be quite conclusive. He was the only person known to have pursued that trail to the river that morning, and the footprints in the sand agreed very perfectly with his boots. “Judge Lynch” was soon summoned to hold a court. The court was organized and the Virginian was arraigned. The evidence was very damaging, but was circumstantial and not entirely positive, every one present and hearing the evidence seemed to believe him to be the guilty party. The verdict of the court was to the effect: That he was probably guilty of committing the robbery, but as there was room for a little doubt, he was entitled to that doubt. He was not sentenced to be executed at once, provided he would leave the bar immediately, otherwise, he must suffer the penalty. He immediately left and I never again saw or heard of him.

We remained at that place until near the end of March, 1851. I believe I enjoyed our stay here better than any other time of the same length during my time in California. My health was fairly good; we made average pay, and had good company.

About this time we concluded to go to San Francisco, where neither of us had yet been.

Mr. Carlton had been talking continually about going to farming in some of the coast valleys, which at that time seemed to be paying good returns. We started for Marysville.

At that time the Yuba River was quite high, swollen by recent rains, and we were obliged to make the crossing at a ferry. At the place of the ferry the current was rapid and strong, and immediately below were falls or rapids, full of immense boulders.

The ferry boat was a large one, made for the purpose of carrying teams, mules and horses, as well as foot passengers. It was held at its place and guided across the river by a large rope made fast over the river. At this high stage of water only foot passengers were ferried over. The rope was a large one, but I noticed that it was quite old and considerably worn.

There were several fellow passengers with us in crossing. As soon as we were fairly in the stream I noticed there was a heavy strain on the rope, and it seemed to me it was liable to part at any second. I looked at the whirling, boiling stream below, that I might, if possible, make some consistent attempt to save myself in case the rope should part and we should go over the rapids.

I could see no possibility of escape for any one aboard in that event. I uttered not a word until we had landed safely on the opposite shore, when I made the inquiry of the ferryman if he considered the rope used to be safe for the purpose at that stage of water. He said he believed it to be perfectly safe. I told him I could not be hired at any price to recross the stream again under like conditions, as I did not consider the rope safe.

I afterwards learned that on the following day, while thirteen men were crossing in the same boat, the rope parted and every one of the men, including the ferryman, were drowned.

We went to Marysville, and I continued on to the ranch where I had left the horse the fall previous. Upon inquiring for my horse of the proprietor, he went out to the range and returned with a sleek, fat black horse that did not seem to resemble in any way the one I had left there, except in color. At first I could not believe it to be the same animal, but I accepted his word, and after settling for its keeping, I rode it away. It was a very handsome horse. As Mr. Carlton also owned a horse we rode down the valley on horse back to Sacramento City, where we left our horses and took a steamer for San Francisco.

At that time there were as many as three quite large steamers constantly running between Sacramento and San Francisco. One company was running the “Senator” and “New World,” both of which I believe formerly were run between Boston and Bangor, and had been taken around Cape Horn to San Francisco. The other was the Hartford, a slower and older boat. The fare I don’t remember, but it was not so much on the Hartford as on either of the other two boats. We took passage on the Hartford.

This was near the time that the excitement in regard to the Vigilance Committee was at its height. Several persons had been tried and executed in San Francisco, and considerable excitement existed there. The civil law had taken the place of lynch law, and had been in operation several months.

Murders, robberies and other crimes were of almost every-day occurrence. The courts had failed in most cases to make convictions, and the criminals, especially in such cases where they possessed a considerable amount of wealth, went free and unpunished. Life or property had become very unsafe almost anywhere. The Vigilance Committee soon caused a far different and a much better state of affairs. Many were the cases in which the evidence against the prisoner would seem conclusive, but the verdict would be “not guilty.” The prisoner would be immediately seized, taken to the rooms of the committee and there tried and convicted and executed, and all within the space of a short time after he had been cleared by the court.

Several such cases took place while we remained in San Francisco, which was several days.

We went out to the old Mission Dolores, and to what has been later called Seal Rocks. We continued our journey down the valley and made some investigation in regard to lands for farming purposes. We learned that all those lands were claimed under old Spanish or Mexican grants, which at that time had not been settled or adjusted by the United States government, consequenty we abandoned the scheme of farming and returned to Marysville.

We soon after parted and I have no remembrance of ever meeting Mr. Carlton after that time. He never returned to his home in New Hampshire, but died in California a few years later.

CHAPTER X.

WITH COMPASS AND CHAIN IN OREGON

Mr. Hanson and a Mr. Bayliss, who kept a hotel at Yuba City, owned the ferry across Feather River at that place. Pinney informed me that Mr. Hanson desired to let him the contract to excavate a road from the boat landing on either side of the river up through the banks so as to permit of teams passing to better advantage. If I would contract with him for doing the work, he thought we might do well.

We looked the situation over and found the cut on the Yuba City side would be light, but that on the Marysville side was quite deep. I suggested to Mr. Pinney that the better plan would be that Mr. Hanson should set his stakes so that we could know just what would be expected from us to complete the work. Mr. Hanson proposed that the road should be at a true grade from the shore to a certain point, about 150 feet distant, and should be of sufficient width to permit the passage of two teams when meeting, the banks to be properly sloped.

After considerable discussion relative to the depth of the cut, which I claimed would be twelve feet, he replied that he knew it could not be more than nine feet deep, and made the following expression in his western dialect: “You needn’t for to dig it more than nine feet anyhow.”

We made the contract to do the work with the understanding that we would not be required to excavate over nine feet in the deepest place, but it was not written out. We bought some shovels and the next day we commenced the work. The material to be removed was all fine sand and was good shoveling. We began at the waters edge and threw it into the river and it was washed away by the current. We made the sand fly fast and we made a large showing on the first day.

After we had worked away from the river so that we could no longer throw the sand into the water, we used wheelbarrows. This was a very much slower process.

We made the cut nine feet deep at the deepest point and finished it in width so that two teams could easily pass each other, but Mr. Hanson then claimed that it must be on a true grade. This would at least add one-third to the amount of work. But as we had no written contract, we concluded that the better way out of it was to make the cut as he proposed.

Another matter that came into controversy later was about the width. At the time the contract was made, when Mr. Hanson said the cut must be of sufficient width for two teams to pass, I made the remark that that was very indefinite, and made the request that he should give the number of feet required at the bottom of the cut, and he did so.

About this time Mr. Pinney received a letter from Pelham, N. H., which I suppose was from a Miss Young, with whom he had formerly been somewhat intimate, and whom he married later. This letter seemed to have such an effect upon him that he lost all interest in the work, and a few days later proposed to me that I should pay him for his share of the work completed. He said he had concluded to start for home at once. I pleaded in vain that he should remain until our contract was finished.

I paid him for his interest and he started for San Francisco. We supposed the contract to be nearly finished. I had met Mr. Elder and he informed me that he had met the surveyor-general of Oregon, John B. Preston of Illinois, in San Francisco. Mr. Preston was not the first man appointed, the other having declined to accept the office.

Mr. Elder had been employed as assistant engineer on the Michigan and Illinois canal in Illinois by the new surveyor-general. He said Mr. Preston had promised him work on the government survey. He intended to go to Oregon a little later and desired me to go with him. I agreed to go.

I continued to work on the job and at length finished it, as I supposed. I had made the cut a true grade from the river to the point agreed upon, which made it 13 feet deep at the deepest point. The width was the number of feet stated by Mr. Hanson, but it was not quite wide enough to permit of two teams passing each other.

I had also finished the cut on the Yuba City side as was agreed upon, and I supposed that Mr. Hanson would be willing to accept the work and pay the amount agreed upon. I informed him that the contract was completed and requested him to examine it.

We went to the Marysville side, and after measuring the bottom of the deep cut Mr. Hanson said it was not sufficiently wide to permit two teams passing each other. I reminded him of the conversation in relation to the matter when the number of feet was given by him, but he could recollect nothing in relation to that matter. He insisted that it must be made considerably wider before it would be accepted. After having done about one-third more work than we really had contracted to do, to be required to make the cut two or three feet wider, when it was 150 feet long and 13 feet deep at the deepest point, seemed to me to be asking too much. But I found him determined not to pay for the work unless I yielded. I concluded to keep quiet and make the widening as he proposed.

I made the alteration as he had suggested and again I informed him that the contract was completed. Again he went with me to the place of the cut, and also Mr. Bayliss was with us.

Mr. Hanson began to measure and also to find fault with the work, claiming that the job was not nearly completed. He said he would not pay me until considerable more was done.

I could endure it no longer, and I said to Mr. Hanson that he was the meanest man I had had any dealings with in California. Thereupon, he became almost frantic, and he immediately drew the square over my head. It was a heavy carpenter’s steel square. He exclaimed that if I uttered another word he would split my head open! I immediately repeated the remark. Of course, it was not my intention to stand there quietly and permit him to cleave my head open, as he had threatened to do. But I stood still nevertheless, intending, if he attempted to strike me, to pursue the course that might seem to be best under the existing conditions. He threw down the weapon and said he would never pay me a dollar for the work until I had done a large amount more to finish it. Determined not to yield now, I replied I had already removed about twice the amount of earth the contract called for at first; that he had continually lied about it; that no dependence whatever could be placed on his word or veracity; that he was a very unjust specimen of a man; and that I would never remove another shovelful of earth for him.

He went away saying he would never pay me a cent. I was as fully determined I would do no more work on the job under any conditions. At first I thought I would sue him for the amount due me. After considering the matter for a day or two I concluded I would see what could be done with Mr. Bayliss, his partner, about the matter. I had been acquainted with him for a number of months, and had considered him an honest man. He had no part in making the contract so far as I was concerned. I went to him one day and informed him that I was about to go to Oregon and that I should like to settle the matter. As he was a partner with Mr. Hanson in the ferry, and I had always believed him to be a reasonable man, I had come to him to talk about the matter. Mr. Bayliss listened to my statements very kindly, but said he regretted the conversation that had taken place between Mr. Hanson and myself. If that had been otherwise he thought the matter might have been adjusted with little trouble, but Mr. Hanson was a very passionate man, and as he was then feeling toward me, he would not agree to any settlement that would be satisfactory to me. He said it would be of no use whatever to undertake to have Mr. Hanson agree to pay the full amount of the contract price, but provided I would consent to make a small discount he would see what arrangement could be made with him. When I again met Mr. Bayliss a little later, the proposed settlement had been agreed upon and he paid me accordingly.

I soon after left Marysville for San Francisco, on my way to Oregon. At San Francisco I met Mr. Elder and also Mr. Pinney, who had been waiting here all this time for the sailing of the steamer for Panama. He expected now to sail within two or three days. He might as well have remained and assisted me finishing the contract.

Mr. Pinney had brought his gold with him. It had been put up in several buckskin bags. After his arrival in San Francisco, instead of depositing it in one of the banks for safe keeping during his stay in the city, he had buried it in the sands of one of the vacant lots of the city.

When he went to recover it he failed to find it, when he became thoroughly alarmed. After a more thorough search, however, he found it. He said it had been removed from the place where he first deposited it and had been buried in another place. It was in vain I tried to make him believe that if anybody had taken the gold from its hiding place he would have carried it away, instead of concealing it in a new place, and he would never have got his hands on it again. While he admitted the force of the argument, he said he was perfectly sure that he found it in a different location from where he placed it. He said he was very nervous when he failed to find his fortune where he had buried it.

Almost any one would be nervous under similar conditions. However, it was always my opinion that he found it at the exact spot where he had placed it, but that he had mistaken the locality. Probably Mr. Pinney’s deposit of gold did not weigh less than from twenty to twenty-five pounds, which would make an awkward pocket companion.

I had been in California two winters and one summer, or a little over nineteen months. As a whole I had enjoyed my experiences quite well.

We remained in San Francisco a few days, waiting for the sailing of the steamer for Portland, Oregon, and left on Wednesday, June 4, 1851, in the Pacific mail steamer.

After we had passed out through the Golden Gate into the Pacific ocean, the sea became quite rough, but as I had never been on the ocean before, I did not realize it was any rougher than usual. Nearly all the passengers were seasick. I thought I should escape, but in the evening I also became a victim. The seasickness stood by me for two or three days, and was the only time, with one exception, I was ever afflicted that way.

We passed over the bar at the mouth of the Columbia river on Sunday, June 8th, and arrived at Portland, Oregon, on Monday the 9th, where we remained over night.

On Tuesday, June 10th, we passed up the River Willamette, about twelve miles, to Oregon City, in a small, open iron steamer, that probably might safely carry 15 or 20 passengers.

At the time we arrived in Oregon the surveys had been commenced by two parties. The meridian and base lines had to be established and run for greater or lesser distances before any other surveys could be made.

The surveyor-general had taken with him from the states several experienced surveyors and quite a number of other persons to engage in the surveys. A point near Portland was selected from which to the commence the meridian and base lines. Mr. James E. Freeman, a man who had been a deputy surveyor in Wisconsin, had been awarded the contract to run the meridian line south from Portland, and William Ives, another experienced government surveyor, had taken the contract to extend the meridian line north from the same point to Puget Sound. These parties were engaged at running the meridian line at the time of our arrival in Oregon, and had all the assistance needed, so there was no prospect for any work on the surveys for me for an indefinite time.

I had been studying surveying when an opportunity presented itself, but knew practically nothing of the government system of public surveys. There seemed to be but little work to be had at Oregon City, and board was quite high.

Mr. Elder was engaged by the surveyor-general as chief clerk in the surveyor-general’s office. I was a stranger to the surveyor-general and all his deputies that he brought with him, and I knew that he would provide places for all his own party before a stranger like myself would receive any attention. Yet, I knew Mr. Elder was a good friend to me, but as he was engaged in the office, the prospect seemed to be that he would have no contract, consequently could give me no assistance that was most needed by me. It seemed to me that I had made a mistake in leaving California, and I thought seriously of returning. But through Mr. Elder’s encouragement I was induced to remain.

We boarded at a hotel which was one of two kept in Oregon City, where board was six dollars a week, or one dollar and fifty cents per day. One little incident that transpired while at this hotel I will relate to show how sometimes people injure themselves in being too sharp in small affairs. At the time I came to this hotel it was quite uncertain what length of time I should remain. So I had an understanding with the landlord that if my stay should be a week or more, the price would be by the week, but should it be less than a week, I should pay the price by the day.

After remaining for about three days, I concluded to leave for a time, and as it was uncertain when I should return, I settled my board bill, paying the day price. It so happened that I returned on the evening of the same day, and occupied my room as before. I then remained during the remainder of the week and some days over. When I came to settle my board with the landlord he presented a bill made up by the day price for the time after I had paid him.

I claimed the agreement was, if I remained for a whole week, or seven days or more, that the price should be by the week, and that the fact that I settled with him and made a payment at the middle of the week did not change the matter, so far as right and justice was concerned. At the time of the former settlement I paid him a part of a week’s board, and that now I was to pay him the balance. But he failed to see the matter in that light, and claimed the day price.

Consequently, I paid him on his basis by the day, but I left him to board at the other hotel, “Mosses,” where I ever after stayed when in Oregon City.

Soon after arriving in Oregon I went south up the Willemette valley among the farmers, thinking possibly I would find some work for a time, but as I found no employment, I returned to Oregon City after a few days.

Some one informed me that a mill was being erected on the Tualitan River, a few miles from Oregon City, and that the owner of the mill needed some more help.

I went to the location where the mill was being built and engaged to work for three dollars a day and board for a short time. I commenced work on Monday, June 30th. The labor was very hard, it being on a dam across the stream, which was being constructed of stone, brush and gravel. All of this material had to carried by hand.

I labored on the dam for twelve days, when it was nearly completed, and the proprietor, Mr. Madden, discharged a considerable part of his help. He had other work to be done in building the sawmill and its foundations, etc. He said to me he should pay his laborers only two dollars per day after that date, but that if I would remain he would pay me two dollars and fifty cents. I continued on the job until the 3d day of August.

About this time Mr. Elder one day came over to see me and informed me that he had contracted with the government to resurvey Oregon City and desired me to assist him in the work. At that time he had very little work in the office, as none of the surveys had been completed. I went to Oregon City, but it was some time before he was prepared to commence the job of resurveying the town. In the meantime I was pursuing the study of surveying in earnest.