tired of waiting for it to come up to me, and so went on alone. Toward
night I came to Mormon Island, the first gold diggings. I inquired if
there was a place where I could get quarters for the night. They said I
might, at the hospital. It was a log cabin with bunks in it, and what
was my astonishment to find the proprietor, a doctor from Troy, N.Y., an
old acquaintance. I was more than welcome. We were both delighted to see
each other. I to find such comfortable quarters, and he to meet with a
friend in the wilderness, and to hear the latest news from the East. He
got for me the best supper that the surroundings would afford; as I had
eaten nothing since morning, it was very acceptable, and he provided for
me the most comfortable of his bunks for sleeping. He informed me that
it was twenty-five miles from Coloma, and there was but one place on the
way where I could get water to drink. I started after breakfast,
refreshed. After travelling some miles, I came to the smoke of the
camp-fire of Indians, just ahead of me. It was rumored that the Oregon
men were in the habit of shooting an Indian on sight when they had a
chance. The Indians killed white men in retaliation, as they could not
make peace until they had killed as many whites as they had lost,
according to their ideas of equity. As I did not care particularly about
being one to make up the number, I struck off in a ravine and passed
around so as to avoid their camping ground and came to the road beyond
them. What truth there was about the shooting of them I could not say,
but it was currently reported at the time. About 4 o'clock, P.M., I got
to a stopping place six miles from Coloma. There I met a man with a long
beard, slouched hat, a sash around his body, a flannel shirt, evidently
a miner. I had a long talk with him. He posted me about the gold
diggings and I him about the news from the States. As we were about to
part, he asked me to take a drink. He inquired of the proprietor if he
had champagne? He said, yes, at $10 a bottle. The man said, pass us
down a bottle, which we drank together. He, evidently, had struck good