The weekly herald. [volume] (Cleveland, Tenn.) 1876-1888, 1881-05-20

[
81 had, madam, and that was the
Whole matter. / was desl erately in love
that was a solemn frct expressed IN
as few words as possible-and / be.
lieyed that she loved me, but the top of
Mount Shasta was not more unattain-
able to me than Jennie. Her father, an
old Philadelphia druggist, had money,
and had none. He was proud as Luci.
fer, and as ambitious for his daughter
as he was proud. 1 felt that 1 could
move mountain, if 1 could find
mountain to move, so Jennie and said
goodbye one afternoon under an old
nak in Paramount park, and in the very
lepths of my heart / believed she would
be true to mo. 1t was not seven days'
ride in palace-car from New York to
San Francisco those days. and the tall,
slender, hungry, penniless lad who
tralnped along here twenty-nine years
ago, seeking his fortune like another
Dick Wilmington, was a weary and
home. one, as we'll"
By 'here,' which you have twice
used, do you mean this veritable valley
Of the Sacamcnto?" said Ruth.
"Tho very same. My objective point
was place now famous in the annals OF
that period, called 'Bidwells Bar on
account of a rich bar in tho Feather
river, full of golden sand, which was
discovered by General Bidwell. The
place was many miles from me; the
country was sparsely settled; l did not
know soul for even tramps were
scarce in those early days., and so my
courage and my legs gave out together.
Pulling off my boots about o'clock
one sultry day, l barred my blistered
feet to the cool evening breeze, and
creeping into clump of young
manzanitzas, fell asleep, hoping that l
would never again wake this side of the
stars. did, however, consci, us that
my toes were being licked in a gentle
fashion, and discovered that it was being
done by young brown setter dog, about
as hungry-looking and generally dilapi
dated as was myself.
"Where he came from / never knew,
but looking into his half human eyes,
we speedily entered into sort of dumb
compact to trudge on together I found
that the poor fellow Il never could call
him brute) had sore knee, infamed
and bleeding. I tore strip off from
my last handkerchief to bind it up, and
in place of the Good Samaritan's oil
and wine, gave him my last scrap ofcold
bacon. 1t is strange, but forlorn as l
was in those days, / recall them with
tender pleasure almost unaccountable.
If l had been raised q Brahmin, / would
have believed that some immortal spirit
Of unfailing cheerfulness and unending
resources was imprisoned in that dogs
body. Did you ever read the fairy le-
gend of The White Cat who, after size
had persuaded the young prince, her
lover to cut off her head and tail and
throw them in the fire, suddenly stood
before him q woman, as fair as Aur ora
Fritz, for that was the name by which
called the dog, looked at me with Jen-
MES brown eyes, half roguish, half
thoughtful, and together we resumed
our journey. Nor would have follow
ed in the wake Of the young prince,
even had l known the result would be
similar, for Fritz, the dog, was inyalu.
able Just as ho was. All lonesomeness
was gone now that he rarely left my
side, and although our shadows had
grown less by the time we reached the
Bar our immatcrial entities were in
prime order for anything in the shape
of adventure. Have never seen any
gold dugY Then I'll not at this late day
spoil your first impressions of a miners
camp by describing mine, as sIapproach-
ed Bidwell's Bar may say though that
one might have supposed an earthquake
or tornado had Just been at work there,
tearing up the hundreds of thousands |
of cubic feet that had been moved and
removed by mortal hands in their fran
tic and persistent search for gold.
"The bar was a world in miniature.
Almost every nationality was there rep
and almost every feature of
human kind but humanity. Armed
with a pick, pan and shovel, |, like
hundreds of others, began to dig and
burrow and wash dirt. But my labor
and its results would not balance, for
my little leather bag of gold.
dust grew no heavier, toll as / would
Wages Deing good stopped digging,
and hired myself as camp scullion.
[ did every kind of jobbing within the
range of q miners wants. Washing
dirty flannel shirts and cotton overalls,
patching leather trousers and cooking
aapiacko is not the most dignifed and
Aower-strewn path to fortune, you must
know and to a boy, whose ideas of
independence and deeds of
lnightly valor were purely and intensely
Byronic, such fate you must acbnowl-
edge, was a sort of poetic justice. Ny
,im, though, was to earn enough money
with which to buy certain claim Of
which I knew. and that / had. in adj