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GOLD RUSH
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GOLD RUSH
By: Thomas Emmon Pisano
I
Bodfish, what an odd name for a mining camp, we are high in the Sierra’s rocky slopes. We are ten, dirty hard working people living and straining up here in all kinds of weather, we will stay here as long as the vein of gold continues to pay out.
We ten have formed a coalition and a pact to protect the mine and one another no matter what and not to turn on one another. We are determined not to let greed and fears determine our destinies, we have a good thing here and we intend to keep it. We all have our roles to play up here, some of us work the mine and follow the vein, some of us build slues boxes and a cabin, and some of us guard the property where we have our claim.
Actually, everyone takes a turn at everything, but some are better at some things than others are. Like me, Mike, I am good at building the rocker boxes, the cabin, and carpentry, what ever it may be. I can turn a rough-hewn log into something practical.
Tim over there, he is a geologist, he has found this vein now six times when we have lost it, he understands the way the earth moves.
Patches, what can you say about that man who has the most dangerous job here at The Bodfish Mine. He is our powder monkey. He makes the earth growl and many times has been just a couple of steps ahead of the blast, walking through the dust and smoke into the fresh air as the earth shook from his dynamite. He opens the earth in the mine and exposes the gold ore.
The Scott, Scotty as we call him and his partner Jim; they are the teamsters for our camp. They are always running back, and forth all over the countryside, either taking the raw gold to the refiner or bringing back tools and supplies. They leave early in the morning and drive their teams down those dangerous roads. They arrive late at night with the goods and materials needed to keep this mine running. However, their most important job is getting the gold to a safe place, for that they get an equal share, just like the rest of us.
This is back breaking work, shoveling the sift from the boxes and moving around boulders that come up on the hopper and need to be broken by sledgehammers.
Gold, our goal here at Bodfish, our labors daily are centered around the shiny, yellow metal. This job of working the boxes and separating the ‘color’ from the dirt is the sole responsibility of two men, Colorado Pete and Sam Pickens. They know how to use water and those boxes to get the metal out of the material we bring up out of the mine. Like I said it is back breaking work. A ton of material may contain less than an ounce of gold.
In fact, for three weeks there was no gold coming up out of the mine and we thought that the vein was played out but Tim went down there and found the vein and has stayed on it ever since.
Claim jumpers attacked last week, we all had to man the rifles to repel those wolves before they broke us down and got our claim, but they would not have gotten anything, the shipment had left earlier that day and was surely on its way to the Wells
Fargo Bank in Trona, that’s where we keep our account and there is a smelter there that makes the bars and stamps for us to deposit in the bank. The records say we have a goodly amount there and we all have signed the papers saying that we will all divide it up equally at the end of the enterprise.
The Great California Gold Rush has been good to men like us we have all profited from the discovery of gold here many miners have done well. At first we thought that this was going to be just a placer mine, but Tim again, his nose for gold found the vein which had a very profitable load in it and we have been living off of that source for almost two years now.
Squeaky Stevens and Serge cook and keep the cabin ready for us to take our rests and dinners, the cabin is a big dormitory with cots and duffels all over the place, but it is neat and clean because of Squeaky and Serge. Built into the front of the cabin is the kitchen with a long table and benches for us to have our meals.
Last but not least is Sally, now we didn’t hire her to come up to this camp, she just appeared one day all full of energy and life, red hair blowing in the wind, riding her horse and smelling of perfume, she liked us all from the start. She has a cot in the cabin and we bought her a partition, like the ones they use in hospitals so she could have some privacy. She put up curtains and decorated the place a little, giving it the woman’s touch, so to speak. She rather owns one of the corners in the cabin near the front window. Her presence here makes this place bearable, she is young and pretty and very clean. We are all crazy about the girl, and of course, she gets her self an equal share as well. She also helps with some of the chores here and does pick up a rifle and helps defend her share of the mine. We made her a toilet so she could have a hot bath and a private place to do what ever she wants whenever she wants; she says it is better than any hotel.
Yes we have carved a very good life out of the mountain and when it is all over I will miss being here at The Bodfish Mine.
The evening of October 27, 1865, the rains had just started as they usually do this time of year, Tim and Colorado Pete just come into the cabin after being in the mine all day pumping out the water, which had accumulated in there from the rains we had been having the last three days. The creek had swollen and was now looking like a river, Scotty and Jim had to take the wagon back to town because they couldn’t get across the swollen creek, they would not risk being swept down stream. I hated the rainy season. It would soon be my turn to man the pump along with Patches, we pull four-hour shifts pulling the handle of that thing, right now the water is seeping into the mine at an inch an hour, it won’t be long before we would have to get to work. We won’t have to do it for long, when the earth saturates and the mine swells then the water will stop seeping in, but until then we will have to work like dogs.
The rain makes every thing dangerous around here, and we are always cold while we are working, the mine is very cold when it rains, and you can see your breath down there. But if you work hard you can stay warm, in the summer the mine is a welcome relief, but in the winter it bites into the bones the cold does. The cabin’s fireplace has a roaring fire in it and the place is warm and comfortable, Sally is over in her corner entertaining Sam Pickens, he had taken a bath earlier and was presentable, so Sally consented to play with him for a while. I could hear them laughing and giggling as I drank my coffee and rum, getting ready for my shift on the pump.
Patches, he just woke. He was sitting with his head in his hands, hot black coffee in front of him on the table.
“Hey, Mike you ready for that damn cold mine, it will be unbearable tonight, damn thing.” He continued to mutter to himself as he sipped his coffee; he was a rich man that was the only thing that kept him going back into the mine, the wealth. To work for only a few years hard, then never work again, that was our dream.
“Oh yea, the cold mine, it will bite the bones it will, it will be a long four hours, you ready?” He was not ready, as we put on our coats and hats for our trip to the mine. As we went out the door I could hear Sam and Sally, they were making quite a racket from that little corner.
The cold ominous mine, it was dug deep into the side of the mountain and it descended in a gentle slope then up and to the left for almost half a mile then dipped. We dug deep into the side of the rock we had taken a lot of earth and gold out of our mountain, our well-registered and claimed mountain.
The chill bit into the bones, I could see my breath as I began to shiver. I could not wait to pull the pump. Patches was still muttering to him self as we stumbled along by lantern light. Water was dripping everywhere; our mine had a very leaky roof tonight. We finally got to the lowest point in our little corner of the world. The water was already ankle deep on our rubber boots. The hose from the pump went to a hole that fell into the earth some one hundred yards away. All around us in the dim lamp light was tools and materials, which had been flooded by the dripping waters.
“Well here goes, ready?” I said to the miserable looking Patches.
“Yea, sure lets get it done.” We grabbed the handles and began to rock it back and forth, the suction mechanism making a weird sound at first then catching water then making the pull just a bit harder that before, we worked. Up and down, up and down, we pulled the handle on the pump, our gloved hands soaking wet from the dripping water.
I was still chilly, I forced the tempo a little and gave Patches the signal that I needed to pick up the pace. He was lagging and I had to carry him for a while.
“Patches, what’s the matter, pump man don’t make me do all the work, come on.” He gave me one of those looks, like hey who made you the boss of this mine anyway? I could read the man’s mind, he had a hateful, and stubborn disposition sometimes; he hated this kind of work, who didn’t? He only seemed to be happy when he was setting charges, but then the man liked to blow things up, no he loved to blow things up.
We pumped and the water subsided and was almost gone, so we slowed the pace a little, I was more than warm now and so was my helper, we pumped at a slow steady pace for an hour maybe more, it looked like the earth had swollen and the water had almost stopped dripping from the ceiling of the mine, but who knows what was going on. One thing about mines, they were deceitful and very dangerous, the shoring could give way at any moment, and you could be trapped forever, remember there is a whole mountain above you. It could all come crashing down around you at any given moment. I started to get a little nervous, I stopped pumping and looked at my pocket watch, our shift was over.
“Come on Patches let’s get out of here, let’s go back to the cabin.” He nodded as we picked up our lanterns and moved quickly out of the hole and up to the shaft. The mine worried me when it was raining, the rain makes the mountain shift a little, the earth takes on weight, we have most of our cave ins during the rainy season. I could not wait to get to the surface. I was beginning to feel the chill again. As we came out into the night, I took a deep breath; the rain was still falling, not as hard but still steady. My arms and back were tired and I was looking forward to getting out of these wet clothes and getting into my warm cot.
As I opened the door, Pete and Sam were coming out on their way to pump water. “The mine has stopped dripping.” I said as they greeted us as we came into the warm cabin. The warmth hit me as I closed the door.
Sally was quiet, she may have been sleeping now, hard to tell, she kept weird hours. I thought that I would like to visit her but I was dirty and sweaty and in need of a bath, and she was very particular about how a man smelled when he came a calling. I though better of disturbing her, maybe tomorrow, I did have the day off, I would save it until tomorrow.
II
Every one was up, the smell of bacon was in the air, coffee was on the brew and Scotty and Jim had just returned to camp with the wagon, the creek was down. Every one was sitting at the table eating and laughing. In the middle of it all joking and smiling was Sally, she had a good time with the boys and love to play with them before work at the breakfast table. I was still sore and tired, and Patches was still bundled up on his cot, as was Sam and Pete.
I got into my clothes and went to the outhouse. I needed to let nature take its course. As I went out side, the cool morning air was stinging my face, sun shining and the little birds twittering in the trees. There was a slight steam rising off the plants in the morning sunshine, I felt renewed and fresh, the rain had stopped, and everything was different, fresh, and alive. I felt good, what a beautiful morning, I thought to my self as I opened the door to the privy.
I returned to the breakfast table, hands and face washed, I waited for Serge to deliver my plate to me with the morning fare upon it. Ah yes, scrambled eggs, bacon, a biscuit, and coffee. It was a good portion and it filled me the coffee woke me and I picked up the overly read newspaper from Sacramento, finishing my coffee with a pipe of tobacco. I had the day off according to the schedule on the kitchen wall. So I was going to do everything I could to enjoy it.
The rain schedule was unusual; no real mining would be done during the time when the rains fell steady, when it dried out we would begin mining anew. It was dangerous to mine when the rains fell ask any powder monkey they hated it the most. Set charges would get damp and the fuses would change their firing cycles, this became very dangerous, maybe the fuse was smoldering from the damp, maybe it was out, you could not tell. Someone had to go into the mine and see what was up with the charge, you did not want to be caught in the mine when a charge went off, it would be certain death.
Patches was no exception to planting charges in a damp mine, he outright refused to do it. I did not blame him; I surely wouldn’t set a charge in there today, so we would wait a while for the mine to dry before we resumed our operations. Meanwhile, we would do maintenance on the mine, place shoring, and pump out the accumulated water. Repair the equipment and ship in supplies, which may be needed. We would not waste our time we would be productive.
III
It was the second week in November, there had been dry spell now for three weeks, and I felt that it was now time to get back to working the mine. With Patches and Tim’s approval, we decided that the mine was dry enough to support some blasting, Patches was ready to start, and he was chomping at the bit and ready to blow things up. Patches was Irish, I don’t know why, but this was the second blaster I had met in my life and the other man was Irish as well.
The men went into the hole to cut the holes for the charges, Tim and Patches supervised the cutting and when the holes were done every one except Tim and Patches came running out of the mine.
We stood and waited for the alarm to sound, “Fire in the hole,” someone yelled, just then Tim and Patches came walking out of the mouth of the mine. Then, as if by command the earth rumbled and shook and a few seconds. A couple of heartbeats later dust and smoke belched from the mines opening into the world.
Dusty and dirty Tim and Patches casually walked over to us and smiled, “well men we are back in business.” We all cheered grabbed our tools, bandannas, and lanterns, then we headed into the mine to fill the hopper cars with rock.
For the next four days we did this; we would blast in the morning and process the rock and ore all day long, we were making money and the gold was accumulating and the coffers where full of yellow metal. We were ready for a shipment to the smelter and then to the bank. We were rich miners this year, yes we were.
Christmas 1865, we had hit a thick vein and decided to stop only on Christmas day, and to work until we lost the fat vein. Patches was working like a fiend and his work was precise and delicate to remove the vein with out too much excess rock. We admired how well he was doing his job, he now was blasting twice a day, and we were shoring the mine after each blast with two teams; one to do the shoring and the other picking up of the ore laden rock and hauling it out of the mine.
We had more gold than we had ever had before, we were all rich and faced one small problem; we needed to get this large amount of gold to the smelter with out being robbed of it. We decided that half of us would go to Trona and deposit the gold and the rest of us would stay behind and work the mine. I stayed behind with Patches, Tim, and Colorado Pete and Serge, the rest including Sally went to town to deliver the goods, they needed to be in a hotel for a few nights and Sally needed some girly things, as she put it.
The day the shipment left, it started to rain the rain of all rains. The vein was thick and fat and we were greedy boys, so we decided to take one more load out of the mine before the rains set in for good.
Patches and Tim went into the hole and cut the channels for the dynamite, I too went to help with the work. After the labor was done, we left Patches to his own devices, he liked setting charges alone, he was an artist, and this gave him time to concentrate on his work. We came out of the mine and waited for Patches to emerge, a half hour passed. It was now high noon and still no Patches; I wondered what had happened to him? We started for the mouth of the mine when he came out into the rain and fresh air.
“We were worried about you boy, everything ok, were is the blast?” He looked confused and turned to go to the mine, we held him fast to stop him from making a mistake. He seemed annoyed and out of sorts, confused and…
“What happened to my damn charge?” He pulled away from us and began to head into the dark opening of the mine we grabbed him. “The mine got very damp while I was setting the charges.” He began to shake his head, then he turned to go into the mine.
“Hey Patches, don’t go in there, hey man that is not a good idea.” We ran after him and pulled him back from the mine’s entrance. “Are you crazy Patches, you can’t go in there, not right now, no man wait until you are sure the charge is dead.”
“Sure, sure, what was I thinking, I must have lost my mind for a second.” He wiped his forehead with his handkerchief, stepped back, and went to sit near the boxes, he got a cool drink from the flowing water. “Wow what was I thinking, I must have been insane. That is sure death to go in there now.” He sat, wiping his face with the bandanna.
Tim, Patches, and I, sat around the rocker boxes, the rain steadily pouring. For most of three hours we waited for the charges to detonate, but the earth stayed silent. We waited until dusk for the charge to fire, but it was quiet. Sometimes the charge fuses don’t work, poor quality or a freak of nature, who knows. All we knew was that it was now time for someone to go into the mine and see what the problem had been.
“Well, I guess I will go in there, I’m sure that charge is dead, I’m sure, yea, been long enough.” Patches had a nervous look on his face as the sun gave off its final light of the day. The rain had stopped for a while. A blanket of clouds had given way to showing us a showing of colors, strange shapes, and orange bands in the setting sky. He picked up a lantern and struck one of his matches and lit it, then he dropped the globe with a squeaky, raspy latch.
He walked off towards the mine, almost on tiptoes as not to disturb the sleeping dragon, which lay within the hole in the ground. He was on a holy and sacred quest, a quest for life and death.
Tim and I sat back on the damp seats we had acquired for this special occasion. We sat and waited our breath was held, quiet, and deeply meditative. I didn’t dare move a muscle until Patches returned from his quest. I tried to imagine my friend walking down to the hole he had pounded into the earth. He was down there in the dark looking at the damp walls. This was a room just big enough for a few men to work.
He was trying to see into the dynamite hole, and trying to remove the charge from the hole with the ‘spoon’ it was insanity being a powder monkey, the endless task of defusing a dud charge, it was nerve-wracking work.
Time passed, Tim and I sat facing the entrance waiting for the man to emerge from the wound we had placed in the mountain. We must have been holding our breath; I breathed a deep breath as I heard something off in the distance.
I heard a horse whinny as it clopped across the creek in the semi-darkness. The rider approached the cabin. Tim and I walked over to see who had arrived.
I heard her crying as we stumbled up the dark path. It was Sally. She sat on the steps to the porch on the cabin. She was crying her heart out, her head in her hands. I walked fast in her direction, Tim one-step behind me.
“Sally what is the matter, where is every one?” I ran to her, she flew into my arms still sobbing.
“Mike oh Mike, we were attacked on the Old Mesa Road by robbers, a lot of them everyone was shot dead. We fought with the robbers, I escaped on a loose horse, everyone is dead, oh my god Mike it was horrible!”
I held her for a minute or so and let her get it all out, I handed her over to Tim, I was still worried about Patches, he should be at the charges now. I had a bad feeling in my gut. This night had turned out to be full of omens, bad ones.
I walked towards the mine, as slowly as Patches did, some how I was afraid of waking the menacing danger that we all feared. I stood in front of the gaping black hole in the side of our mountain and listened, nothing, quiet, a good sign, still, my heart beating under my dirty shirt. I turned to find a place to sit and wait this thing out.
My back to the mine, I heard the most awful sound ever created. The rumbling in the earth, then the belching of dust and smoke out of the gaping hole into the darkness, it blew me down and to my knees.
I stayed there on my knees crippled in my soul, I too was now crying and full of agony, it was like Patches spirit was riding on that hot wind out of hells hole. The trap was the mine, the bait was the gold, we were driven to find this yellow metal.
I guess greed and fear did determine our destinies to some extent now didn’t it? It wasn’t our greed it wasn’t our fear. So there it was an end to the story and a miserable night.
We did not know what to do for days. We were all stunned by the tragedies that had been visited upon us here at this mining camp called Bodfish.
THE END
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