The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, January 23, 1898, Page 25

THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JANUARY 23, 1898 ., DO not. suppose that there girl single Childr or boy who re Che C n’ of the fif- which the made ( lden State” They know, too, that nd all the Native S and_all the adopted sons a and all | the gr = 2 proud and a their ous th boy not 10 ye - decided to old e from took which S ve days and a half of that time were spent in crossing the Isthmus of Darien, where, except when crossing the Gorgona and sailing down the Chagres rivers, the children o party were carried along in chairs strapped to the backs of black men, none of whom wore more than a hickory shirt and a ban- handkerchief tied around his n r dre Our boat pa drowned men 1 wearing dark having on red and une’ hree sked the man who was hired to go with us because he could talk our language, and that | of the natives ), and could manage | our b ess with t and he an- swe “Those are Californians who were ing back to the States with their piles 1w > probably drowned, | as often h: by the capsizing of their cano Often since then have I thought of - red me he families | the fate of the loved ones that this far- | &and died while taking it hom It was forty-se éarly part of J the eity of San Francisco. up from Panama on the stea nessee, one of the old line side-wheelers that made the vo, in fifteen days, end instead of coming straight into a | dock, as steamers do now, she cas chor some distar the Clark's | - ssee, by vas wrecked two years later orth Heads. San Francisco s a queer-looking place at that time, very different from the big city from which I had come, end the people looked different from New Yorkers, too. I could see them from the deck, going about on shore, and they were all dressed like the poor fellows in the river, wearing red or blue shirts, dark trousers held up with red or blue silk sashes and yellowish- brown sombr or else white Pan- ama straw hats The ho: s were all small and built for use i ead of beauty. Many of them were only shanti and there were a number of tents scattered round among them, and the whole town looked very strange to me, used as I was to the large buildings and hand- some streets of my Eeastern home. On the eastern siope of Telegraph Hill, where the work of cutting down its sides for ballast and to make room | for streets and warehouses had not yet been begun, were quite a number of hastily and roughly built houses, and on the top was the telegraph station, with its tall flag-staff, on which were | great black arms that signaled to the city below the arrival of vessels. To- ward the south in the direction of La | Punta del Rincon the shore looked very | unpleasing, and the whole view made me very homesick, so much so that I told my parents: “I don’t like this| place; I want to go back!” When the time came to go ashore we | were taken over the ship’s side into a | small boat, and rowed tc a little whart not more than 200 feet long, which jut- ! ted out from the corner of Battery and Vallejo streets and ended in a short | flight of steps. The distance from the ! steamer was about three blocks, but | the boatman charged ten dollars for his | service. Once on shore I became more home—’ slck than before, for there were no women in sight and not a boy or g!rli in the crowd at the landing. We were to go to the house of some friends who had come out about two months earlier and we rode from the wharf through | the unpaved, unplanked, muddy streets | up to the residence part of the torwni near Stockton and Vallejo streets, seat- ed on our baggage in an old-fashioned | sidewalks and EDITED Davio BY 2 RR RRL BOY SAW S}Z\J\l FRANGISGO IN 185 two-wheeled dray. Our friend all the othe supper in was of my providi prise to every one—a dou as it turned out. When 1 left iip the steward, who had taken a great f v 1o me, gave me a little be 1d tolc to carry it carefully and not to op. until I reached the house where it we the contents to be three pies and three dozen eggs, and my mother took a dozen of the eggs and made an omel- ette of them. It was very good, but we had no idea how good, until just as we were finishing it our host asked if we realized what our supper had cost. The answer was: “Not much, cer- tainly, for the steward gave those eggs to the youngster.” “How many did you us next query. Only a dozer response. “Well, then,” said our friend, “we have eaten just twelve dollars’ worth, for eggs are worth one dollar apiece here.” - “Great heavens!” exclaimed father, “why didn’t you tell us that before?” We had no more omelettes for a while, for the twenty-four eggs which were ;ert were turned into cash without de- ay. o was the was the out to walk and saw Montgomery and Kearny streets, which were the cen- ters of business. Kearny street ended in a sandhiil forty feet high at Sutter, and Montgomerv ran nearly to Market, from which a trail ran into “Happy Valley,” which lay between Market, First, Folsom and Third streets, and was a favorite residence portion of the city. What sidewalks there were were narrow, built of rough boards, and very irregular, some parts being three feet higher. than others with steps connect- ing them, for the streets were not graded at all. Where there were no it was very muddy there were generally boxes set along like stepping stones. It had rained a few days before we landed and the streets were over ankle deep' with almost liguid mire. Mont- gomery was almost impassable, espe- cially in the wagon tracks, and people wishing to cross the streets would pick up cases of goods from in front of a store and make crossings of them, the owners of the goods never offer- ing any objections, though it would probably have made no difference if they had, since people did about as they pleased in such matters then. One day I slipped off one of those stepping boxes, and being small sunk down to my knees in the mud. A blg, red-shirted man pulled me out, but in doing so pulled me out of my boots also. Those u\me boots were my pride; VRN The next day after our arrival T went | e L G e [ @OLDin (1 GATE [ s / AN AMP ANTWE Suett? PR . . . H s they were a pair of new red-topped | and the first I had ever owned ioss of them nearly broke my | Y 18 “me h cost h has held out ill, three | present one. were very few- children in the | r a long time I was a | the generous- hearted | yold San Franciscans—God bless them! | Men who lad been away from their homes and families for many long months would stop me on the street | Just to talk to me and give me candy | money, which was not dimes or nickels, | but gold pileces. One big rough beard- .ed man, I remember, took me up in his arms and kissed me with the tears | rolling down his cheeks, saying that I | reminded him of a little boy that he | had left at home, and when he put me down he gave me a ten dollar piece for that little boy’'s sake. I soon learned to love the warm hearted, kindly men around me, and the admiring affection which I felt for them In the early fif- i\ie:a has remained with me during all | the years since. I have a very vivid memory of the first execution by the Vigilance Com- mittee of 1851. Hangings were public | in those days and everybody went to see them. I was not allowed to spend all my time in idleness, for after a few months, during which quite a number of children had come to the city, I was sent to school. The school house was a dingy old building on the east side of Dupont street, just north of Wash- ington, which place was then the heart of the city, though it is now the heart of Chinatown. There were 12§ pupils, and the school was as good as was possible at the time, though it seemed very different from the one that I had attended in New York, and was cer- tainly very different from tne schools which are the pride of our city at the present day. THE ENCHANTED MINE, ELL us a mining story, Uncle 11g i The veteran miner smiled in- dulgently at his nephew, Henry Hargood, who had asked him for the story, and Kitty, his little nlece, who seconded her brother’s request. “Did 1 ever tell you about my enchant- ed mine?"” ; “Noj; tell us that story.” “Well,” said Uncle Jim, “I found the mine during the summer of '62. I had been prospecting all over Nevada County, having mixed luck; but I never struck it very rich unt{l } found my enchanted and we were partners for He generally was with me pecting, but he took way, and I was alone ong time. en I was out pr fever, some n I first “But why Well, I pretty on a bright M. fresh and sweet, red by wild flowe :ging, and vour Uncle ne spirits. 1 had_no town of G morning. the 1 the b that he bad = about a big spring, u the of whi and which was boiling up so strong it was bringing up little nuggets and gold dust, to line the bottom. naturally 1 ed that befo: t him rich ughed at him, but I recc he told me that he going to find ery next month So, when he told ling spring that was with pure gold. I was am a try. Tim sald spring he would not it if 1 found ti int Jane, who was e on Marthas r to Callfornia. Carstairs, did not t me because I thought that there luck in Tim's second dream, but the other boys—we were all boys then— joked me a lot. None of them wanted to | g0 \\i:hlmo. and that was why I started lon ¥ 1 a good rifle to shoot game and my mining outfit and enough the other things, to make h =0 that T would 1p and down the mountains, per day. Tim did not dr out whether the bolling spring w or one hundred miles away. **You must trust yourself entirely to luck,’ Tim sald, ‘or, as sure as you are alive you'll never find it, Jim.’ ‘I had beenouttwodays without seeing ang cottonwood trees over a spring, when I ran across the biggest grizaly bear I ever saw. Perhaps it would be better to say that he ran across me, for he was trotting down the trail in my direction n tofling up the grade. We both minute. The bear was fright- clear idea where | going. Tim Mul- | | vey, who had picked up a: fortune without knowing a thir ut mining, told me | to turn u 3 m picked up the nuggets | 1 iy Sither 1 wanted money to | | ened and o was I, and we went in op- | posite directions. 'Before 1 stopped I had lost the trail and was in the mouth | a narrow canyon, with straight up and down walls, the tops of which seem- | ed to almost reach the skv. Through the canyon ran a stream of sparkling water. Now, your Uncle Jim had passed over the mountains several times and thought that he knew all the country within miles of the trail; but I had never heard of this canyon before. Anyhow, I was clear of the bear, and something prompt- ed me to go on. So I tramped up the canyon several miles. When it was night T decided to go into camp. I was pretty tired and did not notice What sort of trees I was under until I had finished my supper. Then I filled my pipe and lay on my back, smoked and looked up, ‘Well, weil,” I sald, ‘sure enough here are cottonwood trees. ' It was too late then to look for the boiling and gold-lined srrlnrz. but my heart gave.a thump as I thought that perhaps I was going find Tim's dream true, “The thought excited me so that I to | could notgeleep for some hours. Finally my eves ‘Clo: But hardly had this happened, as 1 thought, wheén I awoke. To my astonishment the sun was high above the ¢ n, so that 1 knew it must be well along in the forenoon. 1 jumped up, ate a crust of bread to rch, with all haste pos: the enchanted mine. Less than 1f a mile from my camping pi I found the gold lined spring. There were mas: of nearly pure gold in sight that were thousands of dollars. “You may worth many young friends, e poverty; no mor money enough to send fc and to enrich both myself and my partner and to buy us hindsome homes in San Francisco; no telling how much goid there near spring! 1 was always prudent, and first thought was that, as there was ld in sight than 1 could carry y without help, 1 would dig 2 hole and bury my treasure out of sight befor I procceded to search further. I stuck my pick in the soil in twenty places, only nugget My brain recled, for T had evidently found richer go.1 diggings than ever had been imag- ined or heard of by man. “Go where I would, I found gold. At one place I cried out with astonishment, for in front of me was a high cliff which seemed to be all one huge nugget, and it shone in the sunlight like burnished Everywhere were bowlders and »s from” which I could pick out al- st pure gold. You may have heard t the joy of burning monev. Well, 1 was so beside myself with excitement , in pure recklessness, I rolled bow der after bowlder into the creek, ev one of which was worth a fortune, and T saw them sink in the water out of sight hout a sigh or care. “Pretty soon I noticed that the water in the creek began to rise, and an idea came to me. 1f T could dam up the creek 1 would have deep water in which to hide my treasures. By the end of the week, working all that my strength would pe mit, I had a complete dam made, every stonie of which was filled with treasure. That dam was worth $100,000,000 of Bank of California’s mone of my work on the ds the the v. At the close m I was tempted to g0 ck to Grass Valley to get help to carry out the gol but the more I thought the more I believed that it would be better to stay where I was, fence in enough of the claim and w: one to find me, “The next day T began to fence In the clalm, and I carved on several tree limbs the fact that I was the owner. Then, having nothing @lse to do, and finding many flat stones in the bed of the creek, I buiit me a use. Never before or since was there such a building. It was more gold than stone. T sat on a stone bench that sparkled with the precious metal and ate from a gold-inlaid table that was werth the ransom of a prince. 1 did not wish to draw strangers by fir- ing a gun, and so learned to Kkill with stones. Often I threw away $500 worth of gold before I could hit a bird for breakfast. My practice before I cogld hit anvthing cost me hundreds of thousands of dollars. “Altogether 1 lived at the Enchanted mine three months without seeing any one. Then my curiosity prompted me to dig up the boiling spring. That was a fatal mistake. I stirred up a what do you call it—a genfus? One of those queer t for some people who doesn't act like any one else. “A genle, perhaps that is what you mean, Uncle Jim.” “Yes, I guess that is it. One of those spring. He was as black as coal and at 25 persons such as Aladdin could call up with a lamp. He came right out of the least twelve feet high.” “Oh, Uncle Jim!" “Kitty, he wasn’t an inch less, as I saw him. He came at me so flercely that I ran away.” ‘“Was there really an enchanted mine, TUncle Jim?"” “I am coming to that. The genie ran after me, and I made the best speed I could. I fell over a precipice or.some- thing, and it was all dark. The next thing I knew a doctor was standing over me saying, ‘He will pull through now.’ And your Aunt Jane was there crying as if her heart would break.” “But the genie?” “All brain fever. I never went out on the trail at all, but Carstairs did, and he made enough money for us both.” “And the house of solid gold and the fortunes you threw at the birds?” .“All a dream, my children.” CRUISE OF THE CALIFORNIA. [Synopsis of ding chapters: Binnle has P rece; been carried off a captive by Ghoor-Ghee-Tee, the Chief of the skull-hunters. After drag- ging Binnie and a party of savage captives through the forests until they are worn out and can no longer be made to run by beating with, Tods, Ghoor-Ghee-Tee makes a camp beside a river. Kemona, the Aus- tralian ‘bushman, following the trail many miles, decides to float down a stream that runs into the Marwise River, and he hollows out the trunk of a tree and proceeds. He finds that he must either go over a great waterfall, in the darkness of night and at the risk of his life, or give up the chance to save Binnie. The Australian takes the fearful leap through the Taging waters and passes safely through the whiripool below the waterfall. He then goes alone to rescue Binnie from'the camp of Ghoor-Ghee-Tee. ] CHAPTER XIIL EMONA stole toward the camp of Ghoor-Ghee-Tee as silently as a shadow. From his hollow war club he took a belt, filled with ammunition, and into this he thrust his four loaded re- volvers. He took his long, keen bladed knife in one hand and in the other held | the stout war club. So he was ready for the fray. But Kemona wanted to save his am- munition if he could, thinking that, on the long backward march to the lagoon where he had left the California, there | might be need of it all, for he must count upon meeting roaming savages and he and Binnie must kill game for meat. He could easily have shot Ghoor-Ghee-Tee.. His plan was to lib- erate not only Binnie but all the sav- age prisoners, and he pushed forward | full of this purpose. The slaves of Ghoor-Ghee-Tee sur- rounded the camp fire. The prisoners, including Binnie, were near the fire, and the light of the burning boughs made it impossible for them to rise to| their feet without attracting the notice | of the savages who were standing| watch over them. Kemona was not long in- reaching a decision when he noticed this. “There is but one way,” he said. “I must go boldiy forward to the fire and take the chance that the savages may | see that I am not one of their tribe. But first—"" By this Kemona meant that first he must find some way to break through the line of guards without giving an} alarm. | He circled slowly about the camp, | exercising great care, for he knew that | the savages had sharp eyes and sharp the snapping of a twig beneath his feet, might ruin all. He wished to find | a savage just about his size, and then— Suddenly he saw the man he was | looking for. He replaced in the war- | club all the pistols and the knife. Then he crept quietly forward with the club | in hand and crouched behind a bush. | Then he waited, patiently, for the sav- | age guard to pass him. There was danger that a struggle with him would alarm the camp, but he must take the | chances. Kemona was crouched, like | a tiger, to spring. He breathed a deep sigh of relief as he saw the savage lie | down and prepare to sleep. Half an hour later Kemona had gagged and | bound the savage and bofdly he walked | to the fire. i Binnie was awake. He was thrilled with surprise as he saw Kemona, | whom he knew at once. Kemona, un- | der the pretense of fixing the fire, | which he poked with his club, managed to get the sharp knife from it and to drop it in reach of Binnie. The lad pushed the thongs that held his wrists against the blade and was freed. “Ugh!” said Ghoor-Ghee-Tee, slow- | v waking up, “I dreamed the white | men had come. Binnie hastily covered up the knife with his arms and waited while Ghoor- Ghee-Tee looked sharply about the camp. Kemona had gone outside of | the camp as soon as Binnie had the knife, and so the chief did not see him. Ghoor-Ghee-Tee was not satisfied un- til he went among the prisoners and | counted them. It was an anxious min- ute for Binnie when the chief stood over him, for the knife might be seen. But the blade was out of sight. Kemona, now having a revolver in his hand, glared at the chief from the darkness, and any hostile movement by Ghoor-Ghee-Tee against Binnie wouid have been answered at once by a bul- let. Ghoor-Ghee-Tee kicked several slaves, to keep them wide awake, and went back to sleep, without having made any discovery. | Kemona was encouraged that he had | been successful so far. Like a lynx | he watched Ghoor-Ghee-Tee. So did Binnie. A half hour passed before it was safe to make another move. To | Binnje it seemed an age. But then | | the chief slept. Without attracting the attention of the guards Binnie | managed to cut the bonds of the sav- | age captive next to him. The savage was quick to learn and he freed four of his comrades before any of his guards took an alarm. ears, and that the least accident, like | { _When a shriil shriek told Ghoor- Ghee-Tee that there was an enemy | co. 1 near, he leaped to his feet and selzed the ax with which he had won the vic- tory at the lagoon. He immediately faced Binnie, who had Kemona’s knife in his hand. The guards closed in around the camp, but the revolver in Kemona’s hands began to crack rap- idly, he firing with both hands. At once a panic seized the savages, they thinking that the crew of the Califor- nia were there. One or two fell. The others fled with loud howls of fear. Even Ghoor-Ghee-Tee ran away and escaped in the darkness. It was the work of only a few min- utes to free the other prisoners. Bin- nie had not been hurt. - The captive chief, whom Binnie had helped on the march, spoke to his followers, and they surrounded the white boy and each fell on the ground on his face and told Binnie that he would be his slave and fight for him and serve him in every way. Then the chief, also, falling on his face, took Binnie’s foot and placed it on his head. It was still an hour from daylight. Binnie and Kemona sat by the fire and talked earnestly. Kemona told all about his pursuit of the savages. ‘When he spoke of shooung the water- fall, Binnie looked at the Australian with admiration and gratitude. Ke- mona was for starting back in the di- rection of the lagoon as =oon as possi- ble. Binnie shrewdly reasoned, after talking with the savages and learning that Ghoor-Ghee-Tee’s country was along the Marwise River, that Harry Ostend was now sailing up the river, to head the Skull Hunters off. “We must go on,” Binnie sald de- cidedly. “There is nothing in turning back.” 2 “But what have we to go on for” “Here is the nucleus of a small army in these savages. We will go with them to their own country There we will gather a sufficient force and try to rescue the German who is a King in the land near that held by Ghoor- Then we will go to the Our friends will find Ghee-Tee. Marwise River. us in some way.” Kemona was able to understand all that the savages said. He sald that it would be well to call the chief and have a council of war. But he was surprised at Binnie's bold and great lan. p“Hnw can we reach the Afarkise country where the white man is king?" ed Binnie. Only by passing through the land where Ghoor-Ghee-Tee lives and reigns.” . . 3ut how shall we pass? ‘White friend,” proudly answered the savage chief, “in the land of the people of Mah-Coh-Gah are ten thousand fighting men, who never fail to bring down an eagle on the wing with an arrow; who can run all day and night and never tire; who are as terrible as , the whirlwind when they go out to bat- tle; who will all burn with rage when they hear that Ghoor-Ghee-Tee I'}as made our people prisoners and has kill- ed Mah-Coh-Gah. Ghoor-Ghee-Tee knows this, and has run away that he may get his tribes gathered. He may | begin the war upon us himself, hoping to surprise our people and burn.our villages.” “How many fighting men has Ghoor- Ghee-Tee?” “They are like the trees of the forest for numBer.” “What de you think, Kemona?"” ask- ed Binnie. “We had better go with these peo- le.”” P It was settled that the march should begin as soon as daylight came. Koti, which was the name of the chief, was much pleased when he heard this and more pleased when Kemona, who had served in the British army, promised to teach the warriors of Kotl's nation to fight like white men. The savages proved to be great run- ners on their march. Kemona found no difficulty in keeping up. Binnie was glad when Koti said, after traveling several days: “There is my country.” Binnie was plucky, but tired. Savages came across the party and told Koti of news that already the Skull Hunters were making ready for war. A great battle might take place any day—perhaps on the morrow. “Do you know what the savages are saying about you, Binnie?” asked Ke- mona. “They say that you have been sent to them to be their great war chief, and the heads of the tribes will ask vou to help them.” “Ther T will be tha general of the forces to face the tribes of Ghoor-Ghee- Tee?” “Will you please the savages?” “Yes; if you will drill them and be my aid.” Kemona and Binnie clasped hands and made. the agreement. Binnie had not thought that anything so strange as this could befall him when he went on board of the yacht at San Francis- (To be Continued.) : A