The Portland daily press., 1870-05-17
)AILY PRESS.
Tuesday Morning, May IT, 1870.
A CALIFORNIA STORY BY MARK TWAIN.

CALIFORNIA STORY by MARK TWAIN.
Whenever Dick Baker of Deadhorse Gulcb
was out of luck and little dOwn-hearted, he
would fall to mourning over the loss OF won.
derful cat he used to own (tor where women
and children are not, men of kindly impulses
take mp with pets, for they must love some
thing.) And he always spoke OF the strange
sagacity OF that cat with the air of man who
believed in his secret heart that there was
something human about it'-may be supernat-
ural.
heard him talking about this animal once.
He said:
Gentlemen, used to have cat here, by the
name OF Tom Quartz, which you'd a took an
interest in, l reckon-most anybody would. /
mad him here eight years-and he was the
remarkabest cat ever see. He was large
grey one OF the Tom specie, and he had more
hard, natura! sense than any man in his camp
and power OF diguity-he wouldn't let the
sov'ner Of California be familiar with him. He
never ketched rat in his liie-'peared to be
above it. He never cared for nothing but min
Ing. He knOwed more about mining that cat
dld, than any man l ever see. You couldn't
tell HIM nothing about placer dggings- and as
| ior pocket mining, he was just born for it. He
| would Dig out after me and Jim when we
| went over the hills prospecting, and he would
trot along behind us for as much as five mile.
II we went so FAR. And he had the best judg-
lnent about mining sround-wby, you never
| see anything like it. When we went TO work
he'd scatter glance around, and if he didn't
think much OF the indications, he would give
look as much as to say, swell, I'll have to
get you to excuse me-" and without another
word he'd hyste his nose in the air and shove
for home. But if the ground suited him, he
would lay low and keep dark till the first pan
was washed, and then he would slide up and
take look. and if there was about six or sew
en- grains OF geld he was satisfied-he didn't
want no better prospect than that-and then
he'd lay down on our coats and snore like a
steamboat till we'd struck the pocket and then
get up and superintend.
Well, by and bye, up comes this quartz ex-
citement, And everybody was into it-every-
body was picking and blasting instead OF shov
elling dirt on the hill-side-everybody was put
ting down shaft instead of scrapng the sur
face. Nothing would do Jim but we must
tackle the lodges, and so we did. We COM
menced putting down shalt, and Tom Quartz
he begin to wonder what in the Dickens 1t was
all about. He hadn't seen any mining like that
before and he was all upset, as you may say
he couldn't come to right understanding OF it
no way; it was too many for him. He was
down on it, too, you bet-he was down on it
powerful-and always appeared to consider it
the cussedest foolishness out. But that cat,
you buoW, ue was always dSl new iduSicu ar
rangementS-sOmehow he could never abide
'em. You know how it is with old habits. But
by and by Tom Quartz begin to get reconciied
little, though he never could altogether un-
derstand that eternal sinking of shaft and
never panning out anything. At last he got
to coming down in the shaft, hisself, to try to
cypher it out. And when he'd got the blues,
feel kind o. scruffy, aggravated and disgusted-
knowing, as he did, that the bills was running
up all the time and we warn't making cent
-he would curl up on guuny sack in the
corner and go to sleep. Well, one day when
the shaft was down about eight foot the rock
got so hard we had to put in blast-the first
blasting we'd ever done since Tom Quartz was
born. And We lit the fuse and clumb out and
got off about fifty yards-and forgot and
left Tom Quartz sound asleep on the gunny
sack. In about minute we seen puff of
smoke bust out Of the hole, and then every
thing let go with an awful crash, and about
four million tons of rocks and dirt and smoke
and splintels shot up about mile and a half
into the air, and by George, right in the
midst of it was old Tom Quartz going end
over end, snorting and sneezing. and claw
ing and reaching for things like all possessed.
But it warn't no use, you know, it warn't no
use. And that was the last we see of him for
about two minutes and half, and then all Of
sudden it begin to rain rocks and rubbage,
and directly he came down ker-whop about
ten foos off from where we stood. Well,
reckon he was p'raps the orneriest-looking
beast you ever see. One ear was sot back on
his neck, and his tail was stove up, and his
eye-winkers was snged of, and he was all
BACKED up with powder and smoke, and all
sloppy with mud and slush from one end to
the other. We'll, sir, it warn't no use to apol-
osize-we couldn't say word. He took a
sort of disgusted lock at hisself. and then he
looked at us-and it was just exactly the same
as if he had said. Gents. maybe you think
it's smart to take advantage of cat that amt
had no experience of quartz miuing, but
think diHerent,"-and then he turned on his
heel and marched off home without ever
saying another word.
That was jest his style. And maybe you
won't believe it, but after that you never see
a cat so prejudiced agin quartz mining as
what he was. And by and by when he did
getto going down in the shaft asin, you'd
been astOnished at his sagacity. The minute
we'd touch off blast and the fused begin to
sizzle he'd give look as much as to say:
"Well, I'll have to get you to excuse me-" and
it was surprising, the way he'd shine out of
that hole and go for tree.
Sagacity? 1t amt no name for it. Twas
inspiration!
l said, "'Well, Mr.. Baker, prejudice against
quartz mining was remarkable, considering
how he came by it. Couldn't you ever cure
him of it ?"
Cure him! No! When Tom Quartz was
sot once, he was always sot-and you might
blowed him up as much as three million
times and you'd never broke him of his
cussed prejudice agin quartz mining"
The affection and the pride that lit up Ba-
ker's face when he delivered this tribute to
the flrmness of his humble friend of other
days, will always be vivid memory with me.