CHAPTER 37
It Ⓐemendation was somewhere in the neighborhood of Mono Lake that the marvelousⒶemendation Whiteman cement mine was supposed to lieⒺexplanatory note. Every now and then it would be reported thatⒶemendation Mr. W. had passed stealthily through Esmeralda at dead of night, in disguise,Ⓐemendation and then we would have a wild excitement—because he must be steering for his secret mine, and now was the time to follow him. In less than three hours after daylight all the horses and mules and donkeys in the vicinity would be bought, hired or stolen, and half the community would be off for the mountains, following in the wake of Whiteman. But W. would drift about through the mountain gorges for days together, in a purposeless sort of way, until the provisions of the miners ran out, and they would have to go back home. I have known it reported at eleven at night, in a large mining camp, that WhitemanⒶemendation had just passed through, and in two hours, the streets, so quiet before, would be swarming with men and animals. Every individual would be trying to be very secret, but yet venturing to whisper to just one neighbor that W. had passed through. And long before daylightⒶemendation—this in the dead of winterⒶemendation—the stampede would be complete,Ⓐemendation the camp deserted, and the whole population gone chasing after W.Ⓔexplanatory note Ⓐemendation
TheⒶemendation tradition was that in the early immigration, more thanⒶemendation twenty years ago, three young Germans, brothers, who had survived an Indian massacre on the Plains, wandered on foot through the deserts, avoiding all trails and roads, and simply holding a westerly direction and hoping to find California before they starved or died of fatigue. And in a gorge in the mountains they sat down to rest one day, when one of them noticed a curious vein of cement running along the ground, shot full of lumps of dullⒶemendation yellow metal. They saw that it was gold, and that here was a fortune to be [begin page 239] acquired in a single day. The vein was about as wide as a curb-stoneⒶemendation, and fully two-thirds of it was pure gold. Every pound of the wonderful cement was worth well-nigh two hundred dollarsⒶemendation. Each of the brothers loaded himself with about twenty-five pounds of it, and then they covered up all traces of the vein, made a rude drawing of the locality and the principal landmarks in the vicinity, and started westward again. But troubles thickened about them. In their wanderings one brother fell and broke his leg, and the others were obliged to go on and leave him to die in the wilderness. Another, worn out and starving, gave up by and byⒶemendation, and layⒶemendation down to die, but after two or three
A new partner of ours, a Mr. HigbieⒺexplanatory note, knew Whiteman well by sight, and a friend of ours, a Mr. Van Dorn, was well acquainted with him, and not only that, but had Whiteman’s promise that he should have a private hint in time to enable him to join the next cement expeditionⒺexplanatory note. Van Dorn had promised to extend the hint to us. One evening Higbie came in greatly excited, and said he felt certain he had recognized Whiteman, up town, disguised and in a pretended state of intoxication. In a little while Van Dorn arrived and confirmed the news; and so we gathered in our cabin and with heads close together arranged our plans in impressive whispers.
We were to leave town quietly, after midnight, in two or three small parties, so as not to attract attention, and meet at dawn on the “divide” overlooking Mono LakeⒺexplanatory note, eight or nine miles distant. We were to make no noise after starting, and not speak above a whisper under any circumstances. It was believed that for once Whiteman’s presence was unknown in the town and his expedition unsuspected. Our conclave broke up at nine o’clock, and we set about our preparations diligently and with profound secrecy. At eleven o’clock we saddled our horses, hitched them with their long riatas (or lassos), and then brought out a side of bacon, a sack of beans, a small sack of coffee, some sugar, a hundred pounds of flour in sacks, some tin cups and a coffee-potⒶemendation, frying pan and some few other necessary articles. All these things were “packed” on the back of a led horse—and whoever has not been taught, by a Spanish adept, to pack an animal, let him never hope to do the thing by natural smartness. That is impossible. Higbie had had some experience, but was not perfect. He put on the pack saddle (a thing like a saw-buck), piled the property on it and then wound a rope all over and about it and under it, “every which way,” taking a hitch in it every now and then, and occasionally surging back on it till the horse’s sides sunk in and he gasped for breath—but every time the lashings grew tight in one place they loosened in another. We [begin page 241] never did get the load tight all over, but we got it so that it would do, after a fashion, and then we started, in single file, close order, and without a word. It was a dark night. We kept the middle of the road, and proceeded in a slow walk past the rows of cabins, and whenever a miner came to his door I trembled for fear the light would shine on us and excite curiosity. But nothing happened. We began the long winding ascent of the cañonⒶemendation, toward the “divide,” and presently the cabins began to grow infrequent, and the intervals between them wider and wider, and then I began to breathe tolerably freely and feel less like a thief and a murderer. I was in the rear, leading the pack horse. As the ascent grew steeper he grew proportionately less satisfied with his cargo, and began to pull back on his riata occasionally and delay progress. My comrades were passing out of sight in the gloom. I was getting anxious. I coaxed and bullied the pack horse till I presently got him into a trot, and then the tin cups and pans strung about his person frightened him and he ran. His riata was wound around the pommelⒶemendation of my saddle, and so, as he went by he dragged me from my horse and the two animals traveled briskly on without me. But I was not alone—the loosened cargo tumbled overboard from the pack horse and fell close to me. It was abreast of almost the last cabin. A miner came out and said:
“Hello!”
I was thirty steps from him, and knew he could not see me, it was so very dark in the shadow of the mountain. So I lay still. Another head appeared in the light of the cabin door, and presently the two men walked toward me. They stopped within ten steps of me, and one said:
“ ’St! Listen.”
I could not have been in a more distressed state if I had been escaping justice with a price on my head. Then the miners appeared to sit down on a boulder, though I could not see them distinctly enough to be very sure what they did. One said:
“I heard a noise, as plain as I ever heard anything. It seemed to be about there—”
A stone whizzed by my head. I flattened myself out in the dust like a postage stamp, and thought to myself if he mended his aim [begin page 242] ever so little he would probably hear another noise. In my heart, now, I execrated secret expeditions. I promised myself that this should be my last, though the Sierras were ribbed with cement veins. Then one of the men said:
“I’ll tell you what! Welch knew what he was talking about when he said he saw Whiteman to-day. I heard horses—that was the noise. I am going down to Welch’s, right away.”
They left and I was glad. I did not care whither they went, so they went. I was willing they should visit Welch, and the sooner the better.
As soon as they closed their cabin door my comrades emerged from the gloom; they had caught the horses and were waiting for a clear coast again. We remounted the cargo on the pack horse and got under way, and as day broke we reached the “divide” and joined Van Dorn. Then we journeyed down into the valley of the lakeⒶemendation, and feeling secure, we halted to cook breakfast, for we were tired and sleepy and hungry. Three hours later the rest of the population filed over the “divide” in a long procession, and drifted off out of sight around the borders of the lakeⒶemendation!
[begin page 243] Whether or not my accident had produced this result we never knew, but at least one thing was certain—the secret was out and Whiteman would not enter upon a search for the cement mine this time. We were filled with chagrin.
We held a council and decided to make the best of our misfortune and enjoy a week’s holiday on the borders of the curious lakeⒶemendation. Mono, it is sometimes called, and sometimes the “Dead Sea of California.”Ⓔexplanatory note It is one of the strangest freaks of Nature to be found in any land, but it is hardly ever mentioned in print and very seldom visited, because it lies away off the usual routes of travel and besides is so difficult to get at that only men content to endure the roughest life will consent to take upon themselves the discomforts of such a trip. On the morning of our second day, we traveled around to a remote and particularly wild spot on the borders of the lakeⒶemendation, where a stream of fresh, ice-cold water entered it from the mountain side, and then we went regularly into campⒺexplanatory note. We hired a large boat and two shotgunsⒶemendation from a lonely ranchman who lived some ten miles further on, and made ready for comfort and recreation. We soon got thoroughly acquainted with the lakeⒶemendation and all its peculiarities.
[begin page 244]
we would have a wild excitement . . . the whole population gone chasing after W.] On 3 July 1862 an Aurora correspondent of the Sacramento Bee (possibly Daniel Twing, one of Clemens’s cabinmates; see L1 , 237 n. 2) wrote:
Our town is all excitement to-day, from the reported discovery of rich and extensive gold diggings over in the vicinity of Owens river. . . . Directly parties of horsemen were noticed to leave town during the still hours of night, stealthily moving away to the west. . . . Well, the next day succeeding the night of mystification, another and another party quietly took themselves out of town. . . . The cause of this epidemic is reports now industriously circulated through the [begin page 637] camp, that . . . digging of surpassing richness had been discovered along the sides of the hills—gold lying in seams of cement, in the most prolific abundance. (Veni, Vidi, 1862a)
Some people believed . . . he had not] On 28 July 1862 the Aurora correspondent of the Sacramento Bee commented:
One of the adventurers to the Cement diggings has just returned, and he tells me he thinks the diggings are a humbug, or else the first discoverers are humbugging everybody else by putting them on the wrong scent, and keeping them there till they get tired of prospecting and return home disgusted, when the pioneers will quietly take possession of their rich discoveries again and work them when and as they please, with no one to molest or make them afraid—except Indians. From what I accidentally heard one of the original proprietors say a day or two since, I am constrained to believe the latter conclusion is the correct one. (Veni, Vidi 1862b)