We watch in wonder as men clamber over rocks, prying glittering metal from crevices with jackknives and sifting though silt with tin pans. It turns out that many of the Captain's laborers are Mormons, as is Brannan. Two years earlier, I'm told, he actually sailed around South America with 238 Mormons hoping to rendezvous with Brigham Young to create a Mormon colony on the West Coast. When Young settled in Utah instead, Brannan stayed in San Francisco and became a hustling businessman. Now he resumes the guise of a religious leader, explaining to the workers that he's here to collect the church tithe of 10 percent to construct a local temple.
Prospectors wash gold in a California stream.
We restrain ourselves from joining the gold diggers and head back to San Francisco with Brannan. Browser and I have been time-traveling enough to know that Brannan reeks of impending history. Sure enough, as soon as we step onto Montgomery Street, Brannan pulls the bottle of gold from his pocket and holds it high over his head. With his other hand he frantically waves his hat. As if on cue San Franciscans stop what they're doing and mob him, pushing and shoving to see the gold.