for divorce. Whether the Iowa Solons acted on the advice or not I cannot say; but it would have found some favor in the mines. Any one with a grain of sense can bake a potato, fry a beefsteak, or broil a rasher of bacon, and there is not an honest miner that does his own cooking but will tell you that when you lift a spoonful of beans from the kettle and blow on them, if the skins peel back under the breath the beans are done, but if not, stir the fire under them again. But bread-making is a science not to be learned in a day.

The boys came trooping in from the claim in due time. There were six in our company, and a rather cosmopolitan crowd it was, too, for with the exception of a man named Sellers and myself there were no two that hailed from the same State. Sellers had a son, a lad of thirteen or fourteen, who had accompanied his father across the plains, and who made more money prospecting and crevicing around than his father did by hard, steady work in the claim. As I have said, our cook was a loyal British subject, popularly believed to be of good family, whose folks had shipped him as steward on a merchant vessel, in the hope that a sea voyage would cure him of certain faults of character that seemed otherwise ineradicable. He left the ship when it reached San Francisco, and struck out for the mines. There was a long, slabsided Yankee from Maine, an equally long Missourian, and a fat, jolly Dutchman. This was the company. Though we were in the mines in the flush times, our success was limited, and more than once the proceeds of the week's work failed to square up the bills we had to make at the trading post. Latterly we had been running a long cut to strike a back lead in the flat, where a prospect shaft had shown some good indications, and at the time I knocked off to look out for Abe we expected to reach the shaft that day, or the next at farthest, when we might reasonably hope for better re

ward than had yet been vouchsafed for our labor.

Hungry men are not given to conversational brilliancy, so with the exception of a few bantering remarks to Mr. Sidney Algernon Harrington Briggs in reference to the probable weight of the loaf, the meal passed off in silence. But when the plates were cleared away, pipes emptied and replenished a time or two, and the bread began to get in its work on dyspeptic stomachs, humanity required a vent. Missouri Bill was the first one heard from.

"It 'pears to me," said that gentleman, "'z if things are bound to go crooked with this yer comp'ny. How much of that dust is there, Dutch?".

"Dutch," who had been drying the proceeds of the clean-up, responded, "Half a ounce."

"An' that's our crack day's work for a week. Boys, I'm sick."

"Did you reach the prospect shaft?" I asked.

"Reach it! I should say we did. Sellers here sunk that shaft, and he's a lucky cuss; lit right on all the pay there was in that section, I'll bet.'

"That's my luck ginerally," responded Sellers. "Git jist enough in the fust pan to tole me on. I'm sick. I can find better diggin's in Elenoy."

"An' sich light dust, too," continued Missouri. "The old woman w'at sold everything a 'pint to a pound' would cheat a fellow sellin' that dust. The Package Man's bread is heavier 'n that dust."

The "Package Man" was none other than Mr. Sidney Algernon Harrington Briggs. Mr. Briggs had this name fastened on him in consequence of certain dealings with the express company early in the winter. When Mr. Briggs left San Francisco, he left in charge of a friend a pair of fine boots and some other articles of clothing, with several copies of a British magazine. When Mr. Briggs located on the San Antone he

wrote to his friend, who immediately made up a package of the boots, magazines, and the rest, and forwarded them via the nearest express office. The charges, which were paid by Mr. Briggs be fore he opened the package, were $10.25, which Mr. Briggs swore roundly was more than the lot was worth. Soon came another package of magazines, with $4.00 more charges, which Mr. Briggs drained his purse to pay, then wrote imploringly to his friend to "never send him nothing In those days everybody was entitled to a nickname, and Alphabet, which was Mr. Briggs's first, was discarded for that of the Package Man.

I have already intimated that Mr. Briggs was not gifted with an angelic disposition. At any rate, he felt called upon to resent what he regarded as an uncalled for and ungenerous allusion to his culinary misfortune. Perhaps the bread was getting in its dyspeptic work on his own stomach.

"You're a bloomin' set of smart Alecks, ain't you now? You can cook your own blarsted bread after this," and Mr. Briggs stalked indignantly out into the cool air.

His angry withdrawal, however, did not interrupt the conversation. It was evident to me that the boys did not think there was any use in looking farther for a lead in that quarter; and before our cook cooled off, they had all, except myself, vowed not to hit another lick on the claim. But I always was a fool about sticking to a place where there had been a good prospect found.

This laudable process was put into operation as soon as Mr. Briggs returned, but produced no good result. Mr. Briggs admitted that he had prospected that afternoon some, and that was the reason why the bread was "'eavy." But he had found the bedrock so "bloody 'igh and 'ard" that a few fine colors was all that had rewarded his labors. By the time this was told it was high bedtime, and I turned into my blankets with the conviction that the " Skoodonk Company" had done its last work on the headwaters of the San Antone.

VI.

My dreams that night were very troubled. Visions of sick darkies, loaves of unleavened bread, mixed in with worthless gravel, danced before my eyes. Finally I dreamed of swimming the Sacramento with Abe, his pockets stuffed full of nuggets, on my back. Just as I was reaching for the willows to climb out, the Package Man swam up and fastened a loaf of bread of his own baking to each foot. This was more than any mortal could bear, and I was sinking. down, down, down, when I awoke, and finding the other boys already astir, I turned out and dressed.

Our Yankee partner, French, set the ball in motion by suggesting he would take a hundred dollars for his share in the cabin, claim, tools, and grub. As this liberal offer elicited no response, except that Missouri Bill "s'posed he would," Mr. French offered to take the half ounce gathered on the preceding day for the cabin, claim, and grub, without the tools. But man is selfish, and this tempting offer also was received in

"Maybe the bloomin' Englishman has found a prospect, that he is so willing to draw out of cooking. Well, if he has we 'll help him work it. Let's pump him."

wroth, and premising that some men wanted the world, announced his intention of taking the particular pick and shovel he worked with, one of the company pans, and bacon and flour erough to last him to Stringtown, and departing

at once for that famous locality. As no objection was raised to this, Mr. French took his departure and was lost to sight for all time to come.

Missouri Bill rolled up his blankets, took his share of the dust on hand, and announced his destination as the Pitt River, then brought into notice by the massacre of thirty or forty Chinamen by the Indians of that now famous stream. Sidney Algernon Harrington Briggs was going down stream a few miles, where a brother Britisher was running a long tom; and Dutch was ready to go anywhere, so long as he was away from the waters of the San Antone.

In short, our company was as thoroughly broken up in a few hours as it could have been had the dissolution been contemplated for months.

I felt worse at parting with Sellers and his boy than any or all the rest, though my intercourse with all had been very pleasant. Sellers and I were citizens of the same Eastern State, and that alone was enough to create a stronger feeling of friendship between us than one might suppose. It did not matter that I lived near the Wisconsin line and he in lower Egypt, we were both Suckers. I have often thought of the clannishness that prevailed among men from the same sections in early days. We growl, as Americans, at the manner in which the French, Italians, and other nationalities, stick together, when they should sink all distinctions in the proud one of American citizenship. But I look back to early days, and recall the clannishness we showed though on the soil of our own country, and recognize that Americans in Africa, Australia, or any other foreign country, would doubtless stick together as closely as any foreigners, unless the Chinese, - do here.

It was an easy matter for your miner of the early fifties to start for fresh fields and pastures new. I have known men realizing eight or ten dollars a day with a rocker to leave their claims at a

day's notice, and break out for some distant place, the fame of whose richness had been brought to their ears. In two days my partners were all off, and I was monarch of all I surveyed.

I went up to the claim, brought down and housed the extra tools, and prepared to use the little water remaining to the best advantage. I then had a little time to devote to my colored friend, who had been neglected while our division business was being concluded. It was a Sunday morning when I once more climbed the hill to Abe's cabin.

I found him so much better that he was out of doors enjoying the sunshine, while Jim was busy inside. Glad enough he seemed to see me, but I thought he looked a little anxious, too.

"I reckon yo' doan' blame 'em, suh. Po' diggin's on dis crick, an' da's plenty ob good uns to be foun' fer de lookin'." Maybe, Abe; they think so, anyhow, but I want to try our place a while longer. We got some good gold in one place, and there ought to be more close by."

"Spotted diggin's, Marse, spotted. Git one good day's wuk, den wuk a week fo' nuffin'. Dat's w'at Jim say dis crick is,-an' de spots pooty sca'ce, too. Did yo' brung up dat pencil an' papah today?"

"Never thought of it, Abe. Maybe I won't need it; all I want to know is the name of the lawyer to write to, and his post office."

"I'm afeared yo'll fo'git 'em, suh, ef yo' doan' write 'em down."

"Well, Abe, get me a piece of brown paper, if you have one, and I guess Jim can give me a bullet."

He went into the cabin and returned directly with the bullet, and a crumpled piece of white paper, which bore on one side the information that Indian Jim had at one time bought of Gordon & Barge a sack of flour, some bacon, powder, caps,

lead, and a pick; which articles, it further appeared, had been duly paid for. On my assurance that it would do, he gave me the name of a law firm and its post office address near his old home, which I managed to mark dimly on the paper, though I had no need to do so.

"I shall write to this man for you, Abe," said I. "Now I'll probably not see you again very soon unless you send for me. It's a pretty steep climb to get to this place."

"So it is, suh, an' I sha'n't look fo' yo' much. Jim kin do w'at cookin' we wan' till I gits well, an' den I mus' git to wuk agin an' git some mo' money.' "Don't be too ambitious, Abe, that's all; you may overdo the thing. And now I'll bid you goodby."

The old darky looked so sorrowful as I took leave of him that I was tempted to stop and say a few words of cheer; but I had so little faith in some of the things he told me that I thought it would he hypocritical, and so walked off. I had, however, no idea of failing to write to the address he had given me, and so give him the benefit of any doubt.

VII.

WHEN the successive developments of mining apparatus came out, from time to time, each one was hailed as a sure sign of increased profits. The long tom could wash profitably gravel that the rocker would have to reject. The sluice would pay well where the long tom would starve to death, for all we had to do was to let the earth pass through the boxes and the gold saved itself. Then came the hydraulic pipe, which made ground pay wages that would only yield grub to the sluice; and now the "giant" and "monitor" only need a big head of water, a high bank of gravel, plenty of “fall” and “dump," with a color here and there, to make the owners rich. So, at least, is gravely argued by the mining fraternity, and every old miner can point

to scores of claims that proved dead, fruitless, under the old process of working, but that he is sure would pay well with a good head of water, a "giant," and the other accessories. No doubt in many cases they would; but a gruesome experience of my own for many years in the mines convinces me that the first requisite to successful mining is to have gold in the claim in paying quantities. You may melt down the mountains, if you will, and watch the dissolving earth as it passes away from the dump, but you'll have to have some gold interspersed through that dirt to make it pay.

There was a short run of water on the part of the San Antone where we worked, for the watershed was fed only by rains, and I soon began to think my partners had done more wisely than I. In six weeks I felt sure of it. So I gathered up the tools and housed them in the company cabin, and left them in care of Lazy Sam, with leave to sell them at almost any price to any unfortunate who should be tempted to essay the flats and bars of the San Antone. I had no particular purpose or place in view: to get away somewhere was my only idea, - it seemed to me that any other place must be better than where I was.

I had not seen nor heard of Abe in this six weeks; so after my preparations for going were all made, I went up to the cabin.

There was no one at home, though the warm ashes in the fireplace told me the occupants were not long gone. I was somewhat vexed at this; having once made up my mind to go, I was in a hurry to get away, but did not care to leave without seeing Abe, and letting him know. I had already written to the Kentucky lawyer, but could expect no answer for five or six weeks yet.

I rummaged the house to find a piece of paper on which I could write a note, which Abe could get some one to read to him, but found none; and I started to leave, when I heard the sound of a

gun up the creek. I went in the direction of the report, and met Indian Jim coming with two or three squirrels in his hand.

"Where's Abe, Jim?" I asked, soon as he came within hearing distance.

"He go 'way three, four days ago." "When do you look for him back?" "Ugh. Quien sabe? Maybe one minute, maybe one week."

"I'm sorry he is gone, Jim; I'm going away myself, and would like to have seen him. Tell him that when I get located I shall write to the expressman, who will keep my letters until he hears from me. I shall also write to Sam Holden, and Abe can find out where I am from him."

THIRTEEN years. How long it seems such a period is going to be when we look forward; how short it has been, looking back. In thirteen years what changes had come not only to the State of my adoption, but also to the whole Union. We realized that as to both State and nation we had lived through an age that would be historic. The hope that had once been the miner's beacon, of returning with a small fortune to the land of his birth to enjoy it, was over; each one toiled now in the hope of building up a home for his old age in the State he had helped to make.

In that thirteen years my fortune had been varied. I had had a brief but costly experience on the Frazer River; had dug for silver in the sage-brush hills of Nevada helped fight the marauding

Snakes in bleak Idaho, and might have been wandering yet, but for meeting my fate in the form of a brown-eyed damsel, whose influence had been enough to stay my steps. I was no longer a miner, but in charge of a valley ranch, and looking forward to the day when the brown-eyed damsel should leave her father's home for the one I was preparing for her.

In all these years I had seen or heard nothing of my quondam colored friend. My letter to the Kentucky lawyer brought an answer, which had followed me to two or three camps, and finally reached me about four months after I left San Antone. It appeared to be the second letter written me, but if so, the first was never received. It was so brief and to the point, that I insert it here:

MR. GEORGE SHELDON,

KENTUCKY, July 3, '54.

Sir: Referring to yours of April last, which we acknowledged receipt of at the time, we would say that in response to an invitation of ours, Mr. Joseph Sawyer called at our office. We mentioned your desire in regard to the boy Abe, when Mr. Sawyer informed us that among his mother's papers, found at her decease, was one that expressed a desire that the boy should be given his liberty. The heirs are under no legal obligation to comply with this wish; but they recognize a moral obligation as resting upon them, and will assert no claim to the boy's services. He can, f he so desires, return to his former home with entire safety.

Concerning the girl Julia, our information is not so satisfactory. Mr. Harcourt, her owner, became so embarrassed financially some two years ago that

he was compelled to sell his place and servants, and has gone, we believe, to Conway County in the State of Arkansas. The girl Julia was sold to a gentleman living in Mississippi; but I understand she has been made for her, it has thus far been unavailran away from him very soon, and although search ing. Should we ever obtain any further intelligence,

we will communicate with you at once. Respectfully,

BRENNAN & GATES.

I made a synopsis of the news contained in this letter, which I sent to Sam on the San Antone, with a request that he would tell Abe. But Sam wrote back that he had twice been to the cabin I