September 13, 1854
Mountain Brow House to Stockton 35 miles.
    This morning had the good luck to find a two & half dollar piece. I did not arrive at this house until half past eight last night having thought to stay at Knight's Ferry but they wanted to charge me more than teamsters and I wouldn't stand it so drove on--
    The road is very good--there is one thing remarkable in the landscape near the Stanislaus River on the low hills they are washed into a conical shape others into a round top with narrow belts of harder sand than others, and this makes the appearance irregular--
    Passed a large number of ox teams and heavy wagons having from 9 to 13 thousand pounds of freight--they are like small steamboats on wheels. As they move along the ground seems to move also--and although these are so large and heavy one is astonished to see how steadily every ox draws his portion--and more so the mules--sometimes we meet a number of teams having from 8 to 12 heavy fine built mules to one wagon, and these frequently--having a number of bells across their collars and the driver looks as proud of them as possible as he seated upon his near mule by a touch of the line guides the leaders with great exactness and puts on the "brake" descending the hills. Some of the names of these mammoth wagons will give one an idea of the pride they feel in them. One is called the "Bride of the Mountains," another "Pride of the Valleys"--"George Washington" "Prairie Flower" "Wild Irishman" "The Belle of California" "Defiance"
September 14, 1854
Stockton.

September 15, 1854
Stockton to Dry Creek 25 miles.
    Leaving Stockton this morning we were directed to take the upper or the best road to Sac. City, and joined when out about a mile that the road was thoroughly fenced up and having to go back--I thought this a very free country where a man could fence up a public road without putting up a notice to inform travelers of the fact.
    There are some fine ranches around Stockton and for several miles on the road to Sacramento most of the land is taken up.
    Met a man just across the plains with whom I conversed for some time and learned the following facts--the Indians on the Humboldt near the upper crossing had given them battle and wounded two men at daybreak in the morning running off 3 horses &c. He swears that he will cross the plains again and will supply every Indian who makes his appearance in their camp--without their women or pics--with strychnine in a biscuit--for says he the only reason for coming to beg is to see what and how well they can steal--and not a woman ever entered their camp after leaving the upper waters of this river--they the women being kept in the mountains out of the way while they steal. All very well throughout the journey. Brought a good number of stock over.
    Saw an almost deserted garden with fine young peach trees growing. The greater portion of the land on this upper road is rolling and barren.
    From Stockton to Staples' Ferry on Mokelumne River it is 17 miles from there to Dry Creek 10 miles--
    There is a beautiful scene on the Mok River at the ford or ferry.

September 16, 1854
Dry Creek to Sacramento 28 miles.
    The country is generally rolling & barren--the soil mixed with quartz.
    Noticed a horse racking--or moving the two feet on one side at the same time.
    Saw some men threshing wheat with a machine near Dry Creek.

Sunday, September 17, 1854
    [no entry]

September 18, 1854
Sacramento City.
    Have spent the day in Sacramento City--one of the most busy cities on the Pacific, and the best laid out and most cleanly city upon any of the rivers or bays of California--the streets running east and west are called after letters of the alphabet such as I St., J St., H St., &c.--those streets running north and south are called First, Second, Third St. &c., &c. See description of Sac. City page ___.
    Today I saw a house 30 by 20--two stories high moving along J St.--drawn upon two log wagons by 4 yoke of oxen to each wagon. This is house moving if not table moving.
    I bought today the engravings of a letter sheet--called "Crossing the Plains" from Messrs. Barber & Baker for three hundred & fifty dollars.
    Sent 24 sketches of California to care of Mr. Bartlett, Placerville--care of Adams & Co.'s Express.
September 19, 1854
Sac. City to Nicholas 25 miles.
    This morning we left Sac. City passing a singular shaped "bar" with a roof projecting about 30 ft.--as a shade for teamsters to rest and "take a drink"--this was near the bridge. The bridge is substantial & double tracked, about 300 feet in length with ten arches--built across the American River about two miles above the Sacramento into which stream it empties--and materially increases the muddiness of the latter--on account of the immense amount of mining on the three branches of the American. Nearly all of the teams for the northern mines cross this bridge or as shown in the sketch ford the river when the water is low. Ladies will frequently cross the ford on horseback in preference to the bridge--I suppose to let the men see that lack of courage is no portion of their nature. Crossing the ford we journeyed to a house "solitary and alone" where they charged us one dollar each for dinner--same price as '49 & '50. This house was called twelve miles from Sac. City. Seven miles further--another house called "The Universal Hotel"--and 6 miles further came to Nicholas--distance 25 miles from Sac. City.
    Our road today has been very good, running just at the foot of a gentle slope--and at times could be seen a whitish kind of cement cropping out--the telegraph running about parallel with the road.
    Nicholas as shown in the view is a small town of about 150 inhabitants composed chiefly of agriculturists and mechanics lying upon the eastern bank of the Sac. River. There is a fine district for land adapted to farming purposes and well timbered in oaks and buttonwood.
    In the year 1850 Nicholas was a town of about 1,200 inhabitants with 8 first class hotels and numerous stores supposing this to be the head of navigation on the Sacramento River, but after the fire in Sac. City most of them were removed either to the latter city or to Marysville--there being nothing to support them as a city. Stages for Nevada & Downieville with loaded teams used to start from here. It is now the county seat of Sutter Co. and has a courthouse (such as it is)--formerly the court used to operate in a store.

September 20, 1854
Nicholas to Marysville 18 miles.
    This morning spent in taking a sketch and a dag. [daguerreotype] of a splendid horse (for the owner) at Nicholas--
    Noon started--3 miles brought us to Bear River which is crossed by a rough bridge. It is but a small stream indeed it is nearly dry--and it is astonishing how small even the banks or bed of these streams are considering how flat must be the country & slow the current--indeed they are not nearly as large as in the mountains--
    8 miles further brought us to Dry Creek--there are dry creeks in every county--in great plenty--I suppose for the want of a better name--the whole distance today is upon a good road and partly through a timbered country like what the "Illinoisans" would call "oak opening."
    Near to Marysville we passed Mr. Beach's fine peach orchard of several thousand trees--most of them young although this is the third year they have considerable fruit upon them. It must be very profitable eventually.
    When near the Yuba River one could perceive a smell unusual further south from rotting vegetation and weeds. Soon after dark we reached the Yuba River but being too dark couldn't see it much--saw a shadowy something like a ferry boat and hailed the keeper who gave us the "all right" and brought the boat over and we were soon across and in Marysville--stayed at the Orleans and charge for suppers were $1.50 the two and beds $1 each making $5.00 for supper, breakfast & lodging for two men.
September 21, 1854
Marysville--
    This morning we are in Marysville. It is truly a good substantial city of about 9,000 inhabitants situated at the junction of the Yuba & Feather rivers 43 or 45 miles by land from Sacramento City and __ miles by water. Describe more fully--[write] good description. Was shown a man this morning who is a singular kind of genius who frequently goes upon a "bust" for some weeks together and on one of these occasions some way sent an account of his death to the paper who duly recorded it. In a few days he came back--saw the account of his death and was shortly afterwards seen with a pick, shovel & bottle of brandy and on being interrogated "was he going prospecting," replied that he was dead--the papers had made him so--and it must be so! and he would have decent burial, and consequently was on his way to select the spot and dig his own grave. Someone persuaded him that it was poor policy to do that work upon such poor brandy and offered to get him some better if he would accompany him--which he did and afterwards returned and dug his grave--this attracted quite a crowd to see him--but towards night he was too drunk to have a sober kind of burial so postponed the burial until morning and as he had noticed the joke suitably--there ended the matter.

September 22, 1854
Marysville.
September 23, 1854
Marysville to "Hock Farm" 7 miles--& back to M.
    This morning we left Marysville and within ¾ of a mile crossed a bridge over 500 feet in length across Feather River. The river is not over 300 ft. wide but the banks being deep and sloping it is necessary to extend the bridge to the solid ground. This bridge top is now over 40 ft. to the water although in winter it is nearly up to the top at times. There is a small town called "Yuba City"--leaving this we passed through a pleasant country down the banks of Feather River to Hock Farm, the residence of General John A. Sutter--the old California pioneer--who now entirely lives here except on an excursion upon business or pleasure--the old veteran looks hale and well although a little troubled--his lady and family were here also--and a beautiful place it [is]. In the center, and fronting on Feather River, stands a long commodious "adobe" house tastefully and substantially built. At the south end [of] the house is a fine vineyard and orchard in the front of the house and at the northern end is a tastefully laid out pleasure garden with beautiful and rare flowers & shrubs--with tool house &c. Still more northward is a large iron granary--entirely fire & rat proof--and just beyond that again is a village of Indians which at one time numbered some 500 warriors, but is now nearly deserted. Hock Farm, although taken up some seven or eight years, was not occupied until 1850 when the general was joined by his family.
    Boats to Marysville passing and repassing daily makes it look a little more lifelike. The general has been prodigal in hospitality to the Americans and on that account is now comparatively poor. In wealth he might have been a prince among whites, as he was formerly among the Indians, if land sharks and sharpers had not coaxed and swindled him out of his land at Sacramento City while everyone drained him by turns--or nearly so.
    There is a fine large dog--and another good one. Today a poor fellow came on business and unluckily the dogs broke their chains and he running they tore his pants behind and bit his arm, tearing coat & shirt--
    Mr. ______ Sutter the eldest [son] kindly showed us everywhere and assisted us to take the views--5 in number--of the house, vineyard & garden. May Gen. Sutter long enjoy this in his age--he well deserves it.

Sunday, September 24, 1854
Marysville--Sunday.
    This morning went to church--Methodist--a fine brick building with schoolrooms underneath. Here the Presbyterian worship now since the fire burned down their church. There was a good attendance, Mr. _______ preached.

September 25, 1854
Marysville to Parks' Bar--Yuba River.
    Left Marysville about 11 o'clock a.m. and keeping on the north side of the Yuba River for 15 miles when we crossed a toll bridge across a rocky creek called Dry Creek--near its junction with the Yuba River--opposite the bridge is Ousley's Bar on the Yuba; here there are a large number of water wheels and between 4 & 500 men at work busily taking out the pay dirt from the bed of the stream. This year it is remarkably favorable owing to the equinoxial rains not coming at the usual time. The water is very low and keeps low--the claims are all pumped by water by means of rotary pumps. Men upon the rivers are generally wilder and more improvident than those in dry diggings--they generally drink and gamble more. At the head of Ousley's Bar is Long Bar--nearly dried up--quite a number of Frenchmen and Germans--then above is Parks' Bar--a large and populous place--the men are engaged now in the bed of the Yuba--but unlike many other leads has a good dry diggings for winter. Saw the panorama here of "California on Canvas." The landscapes are very good and beautifully tinged with a golden tint that is not only a beautiful reality but tells with excellent effect upon the hillsides. The figures are very good in shape but are not very judiciously introduced--everything is too stiff--too little life--fun--to make it interesting--the lecturer was very prosy and poor--not a joke throughout. Upon the whole I should think it might take well if it were well explained--but it will never--as it now is--create any great excitement.
    Parks' Bar has been one of the richest locations in California. In 1852 there was about two and a half tons of gold taken out--frequently 700 to 800 dollars to the pan.
1st "Parks' Bar Co." lost money. 2nd "Buckeye Wing Dam Co." lost money. 3rd "Squad Co." took out about 50 lbs. per day for the season. 4th "The Upper" & "Lower Canal Co." averaged 40 lbs. of gold per day--this was supposed to be the best ground on the river--5th "The Ohio Co." took out 7,000 dollars to the share or man--The Mobile Co. did well--the ground rich but owing to its being small and the expenses large they made but little--the Perry Wing Dam Co. was very rich, took out $6,000 to the share clear of all expenses--the Grizzly Co. has never been tested--they are now putting in a "wing dam" and may--but it is very difficult--then comes the Eureka Co. which did but little.

September 26, 1854
Parks' Bar to Barton's Bar, Rose's Bar & back to Parks' Bar.
    Sold my sheets at Parks' and then footed it for 2¾ miles over a rough trail to Barton's Bar. The companies here are doing only a moderate business. On Sunday last (their day of settling as Sunday invariably is in these bars as well as elsewhere). The upper claim had paid all their debts and made a dividend of $50 each to the share. They take out from 20 to 35 ounces per day and work from 18 to 25 men. Although this seems to be a pretty fair reward---there are so many months of expense that before the first dollar is taken out there is a very heavy debt either hanging over the company or else they have paid such sums out of former earnings.
    The people here seem very industrious and moral although there is a house of ill fame with several Chileno women in it.
    About a mile above is Rose's Bar--rather a pretty locality and is favored by the presence of a few ladies, wives of the men upon the bar--the mines here similar to others on rivers. The claims are pumped out by rotary pump from a water power and deep from the crevices they wheel the pay dirt on wheelbarrows to the "long tom" where it is washed and the "oro" taken out. I should think that this long bar has about 300 men upon it--doing a moderate business. The water is turned on one side, and the bed of the river worked.
    The hills around here are not very high although the talcose slate is in many places bare. The color of the pebbles on the entire river is of a darkish dust colored gray--the banks are of a reddish cast in many places with the dark rock cropping out. All the way from Ousley's Bar below to Rose's Bar there is mining going on in places and I suppose for 50 or 60 miles above Rose's Bar.

September 27, 1854
Parks' Bar to Ousley's Bar and Empire Ranch.
    Passing through Long Bar & Big Bar we crossed the ferry at the former place going down the river about a mile to Ousley's Bar--this is the first bar seen from the road where mining is known upon the Yuba River--below what is properly known as Ousley's Bar. There is what are called the "Sand Hill Diggings"--including these two there are nearly 300 inhabitants a number of which are German, Spanish & French.
    They are now working in the river and although it will not well reward their time, patience and money necessary to secure and work the river diggings--they will yet make moderate wages. Leaving this bar we journey upon the Marysville and Nevada road towards Rough & Ready to the Empire Ranch, where "Night" overtaking us we being weary also had no objection to being made a voluntary prisoner in the custody of "Slumber." Today we passed two female Indians one of which had slung to her forehead not less than two bushels of acorns--and the other although very young--not over 11 years of age--had about a bushel of acorns also--and although very heavy they walked along uncommonly easy. This is a good year for the Indians--between vast numbers of grasshoppers and plenty of acorns. A few miles further on was a "ranch" of Indians--and better looking than any I have before seen. One young fellow was not less than 6 feet high--an unusual height--two or three came and wanted to know, with their usual curiosity--"What you there" pointing to my letter-sheet box and upon my telling him "young Indians in there" was about believing me and wanted to see them, but I said, "Get up, Jem" to my horse and left him standing and then he laughed.
    The road today has been very rough--crossing quite a number of deep ravines and moreover the road was very rock--my horse nearly giving out with the heavy drawing of my wagon--although having traveled but about 16 miles.
    From the ferry across the Yuba to Empire Ranch it is about 10 miles. There is but little interest except the passing of droves of cattle and emigrants from the plains with their wagons and horses &c.

September 28, 1854
Empire Ranch to Rough & ready 12 miles.
    This morning before leaving the Empire Ranch I had a jingle [sic] with the owner. For my hand and self he had charged $2.00 each for supper, lodging & breakfast--this was the usual price to teamsters and he had reluctantly agreed to charge me that price, generally "raising the tariff" upon transient customers, but finding I was mounted upon my box for driving further he agreed to take me at the same price as teamsters. This morning he wanted to back out and charged me $1.50 for my horse--this I paid as I had omitted to speak last night about it--and when I went to the stable my horse had not been touched. I wanted to swear badly and I am sure that I did inwardly. I read him a good lecture on animals and prices, and general swindling under the plea of "hay & grain" to horses they never received, and cleaning they never got--and yet if you pretend to look if your horse is cared for they think you an impudent meddler in other men's concerns and look at you with an honorable indignance as though they would say, "Do you think that I would be guilty of such a thing as agreeing to feed and water and clean your animals all they need--and afterwards not do it?" But if you leave it to them they will cheat your horse if they can't cheat you. An insolent redheaded Irishman--an attache of the house--intimated that if I got no worse treatment for my horse up in the mountains I might think myself well off. I told him to dry up his tongue and mind his own business--not interfere with me or mine--or I would soon try to make him--at the same time remarking that he had better hunt up that six pound potato (said to be grown upon this ranch) and insert it in his mouth--which I should judge by the size of it (namely his mouth) would just fill it. He very prudently troubled me no more--and threatening to prosecute the landlord for obtaining money under false pretenses left for Rough & Ready which I made about noon. The road is rough enough for any name--just at the foot of the hill we were suddenly lowered by the fore wheels leaving the hind ones--and down dropped the fore end of the wagon body upon the ground--the "king bolt" had broken! and the "hames" of harness. Passed large droves of poor young stock just over the plains--also a number of men with their blankets at their backs similar to ourselves in '49 and '50. I must have this well illustrated in the panorama.

September 29, 1854
Rough & Ready to Nevada City 9 miles.
    Rough & Ready is the euphonious name given to a small town situated on the stage road to Nevada from Sac. City and about 75 miles from the latter and 9 from the former place. This town has been one of the most thriving little towns in the mines and now contains a population of about 300 persons, but being dependent upon water from canals (it is now the dry season) its population wanes from that number to about 6 or 7 hundred persons during the winter.
    The town contains about 60 buildings--all of wood yet this is one of the few towns spared by the devouring element--fire. There are 10 stores--3 public houses--one restaurant--2 saloons--1 livery stable--Adams & Co.'s Express office (or rather a branch office)--a neat little church--(seen in the foreground of the sketch) belonging to the M.E. society although like most other one church towns persons of every denomination assemble therein and as they are generally other[wise] made up, the minister to suit--or even to live--has [to] be liberal in his views and not make the views of his own particular denomination to stand out too prominently--
    There is also a day school well supported the whole of the year. There are also about 30 families and all seem very orderly. I think the people here are as quiet and well behaved as in any town I visited.
    The country around Rough & Ready contains the golden ore and some of the best diggings of the county have been found in Randolph Hill a short distance north of town. Squirrel Creek is the principal mining point here during summer although many go on to Deer Creek a little northwest of town.
    The gold here is generally coarse--some beautiful specimens are to be seen in Adams & Co.'s Express office weighing from one to thirteen hundred dollars each.
    During eight months of the year there is no hill so quiet or valley so lonely but the ringing of the pick & the rattle of [the] shovel can be heard echoing among the lofty pine and oak trees around.
    The country around is rough & rocky and although rough on its surface it contains the precious ore and the inhabitants are every ready to welcome the miner to develop its wealth to the good of all.

September 30, 1854
Nevada City.
    Cadez Arion's description of Nevada [City]--abridged & improved
    This is the county town of same name and of course has a courthouse &c.--two "first class" hotels the Metropolis & United States.
    There are about 15 brick buildings.
    Packing is carried on from Nevada to Moore's Flat, Orleans Flat, Yreka, Cherokee &c., &c., &c.

Sunday, October 1, 1854
Nevada City. Sunday--
    This would appear like a very immoral and noisy city to any stranger who has not been hardened into a sight at first so revolting--a church opposite a gaming saloon--the one singing psalms and professedly serving their God--the other playing polkas and other airs of the same kind. In the streets at this doorway or the other are groups of men eating grapes or watermelons--there three or four miners from a short distance of town are stepping in to take a drink--here is one trading in pork or flour another is examining a pick or shovel--and next to him are two men in spic span new toggery purchased from yonder Jew.
    Here one conscientious religionist has closed his store on Sunday--and nineteen others keep theirs open. It is a day of general holiday among miners who have abandoned the "long tom" and "sluice"--washed their clothes, swept up the cabin and now are in town to look around them, buy a pick and drink with their friends--yes, and to see if there are any letters from friends at home--and answer them.
    There are four churches in Nevada--Presbyterian, Baptist, Methodist and Catholic--neither of which are very well attended--
    Nevada is situated between Yuba & Bear rivers on Deer Creek about 17 miles from its junction with the Yuba--about 75 miles north of Sac. City and was first settled in the fall of '49--but little progress was made until the spring of 1850 when the mines growing rich and extensive it grew rapidly. In Sept. '50 the famous "Coyote lead" was discovered, and which had proved unsurpassed in richness although but little comparatively worked--this lead alone will take 20 years to work it out--for although it has been worked since 1850 continuously with astonishing results its richness and extent seems still undiminished.
    The city was entirely destroyed by fire in 1851 and before the coals were extinguished new buildings were progressing--the woods resounding with the loud crash of falling timber were speedily converted into lumber and the city again sprung up as if by magic--more substantial more beautiful and more extensive. In the fall of 1852 all that part on the eastern side of Deer Creek--now occupied by Adams & Co.'s Express and several other buildings--was again destroyed by fire, but as quickly (almost) rebuilt. A large number of brick buildings now adorn the city and several more are in progress, and every house can be supplied with water from springs in the surrounding mountains.

October 2, 1854
Nevada to Storms' Ranch 9 miles and back to Nevada.
    Learning from Senator Crenshaw that the great men of California--viz. Gen. Wool--Senators Gwin & Weller, Thos. J. Henley Indian agent--Saml. Norris--[Sacramento] Mayor Hardenberg--Gen. Denver and several others were about to meet the Indians of Yuba & Nevada counties in a grand "pow wow" or Indian council--early in the morning I & Ned [Edward Jump] were on the way with daguerrean apparatus for "taking the Injuns" and being directed one course took it and amidst a number of "log roads" lost our way and after about an hour found ourselves about half a mile from where we had started--but now we are certainly upon the road and will make haste. "What's that?" cries Ned--and the "king bolt" is broken--in five minutes the wagon was lashed and again upon the road and at Grass Valley were detained having it mended. "How far now are we from "Grass Valley Storms" Ranch? 6 miles--oh dear!" Half of the six miles was uphill and the other half down and about noon we arrived at the imposing scene--standing among the oaks and lofty pines were the horses & carriages of a great number of owners and around the doorway of "The Hermitage" as called (or public house of Mr. Storms') stood a concourse of persons both male and female some sober and some weren't. "Where is the council ground?" "Oh they have not begun yet." "But where are the Indians?" "Oh they think that this is a plan of the whites to corral them and then take them away so those that stayed away were afraid to come and those that came were afraid to stay"--with the exception of about thirty (including half a dozen squaws) among whom was Wiemah the chief of the Yumas and Diablo the chief of the Yubas and three or four "captains"--one with one eye and a badly scarred face--another nearly all scars and a cunning look out for beef & "beeskit." A movement is made--all persons rush to the bull pen and inside are the immense number of seven Indians--you can see a greater number at almost any street door picking up watermelon rinds and eating the meat closer to the skin. "Did they do anything?" "Yes, they didn't do anything?!!!"
    Wiemah and the others listened to the unintelligible speeches of the "great Americanos"--and which all ended in smoke. After it old Wiemah made a good speech thus--"American man come Indian and Indian here first--by and by Chinaman come. You no send Chinaman away--yet you want send Indian away--Indian no go--you send Chinaman first--white man no keep him promise--no good--white man no good."

October 3, 1854
Nevada [City].
    Took 6 views of Nevada from the back of Adams & Co.'s office by the old swing tree.
    Yesterday returning from the council had my horse claimed and the fellow has been waiting all day to get his witness but couldn't find him--although he will, I have no doubt. He has lost the horse nearly two years.
    Received today a letter from loving and aged mother. I ought to go home. She is getting very much enfeebled by age and God knows I would gladly be with her to comfort her.

October 4, 1854
Rained this evening & morn 10 hours.
Nevada to Grass Valley.
    Have been waiting about all day partly taking views and the balance waiting for the owner of the horse to come and prove him away; but the witness was either asleep or otherwise engaged--promised to wait for him in Grass Valley.
    As the stranger approaches the mountain city of Nevada he is struck with the evidences around him of an immense and heavily timbered forest--thousands of stumps being standing bear witness that before the woodman's axe had laid them low or steam had cut them into lumber they must have been as tall and beautiful as they were numerous.
    Dimly seen from between the trees stands the city on the northern bank of Deer Creek and as the road winds its way down the hill you think surely that the city must be built on the outskirts of an immense forest--but the moment you reach the bridges across the creek the bustle and activity take away your thoughts to admire the businesslike movements of men and women--before reaching the city I saw four ladies & gents enjoying a pleasure ride on horseback--and afterwards here and there a woman was to be seen--what a desolate state of things it would be without women. Now to my subject again, Nevada. It is the largest mountain city in California--although there is but little difference in size to Placerville. The streets come almost to a point--the bridge across the creek being the starting point.

October 5, 1854
Grass Valley--4 miles from Nevada.
    This town has long been remarkable for its pretty location and its quartz mining--although there is considerable of the surface mining successfully carried on. The old emigrant road passes about 4 miles southeast of the town. In August 1849 a small party of emigrants stopped in this valley to recruit [i.e., rest] their stock and so pleased were they with its beautiful appearance that they concluded to remain. By them the place was named.
    They first mined in what is now called Boston Ravine--but were not very successful and left. In November of the same year the Boston Mining Co. commenced operations and gave it its present name. In the same month a Mr. Thorpe built the first store--this with a few log cabins were all of the buildings of Grass Valley to January 1850. In May 1850 Judge Walsh erected the first steam saw mill and the freight upon the machinery from Sac. City was 24 cts. per lb.--it now costs about 2 cts. per lb.
    After the heavy emigration of '50 Nevada County began to attract attention as a rich mining county and Grass Valley received a considerable addition to its population.
    Attention was first attracted to the quartz gold deposits in Oct. 1850 by a man passing over what is now called Gold Hill and disturbing with his shoe a piece of quartz rock which upon examination proved to be extremely rich with gold. From this circumstance the miners around commenced pounding quartz rock dug from their claims--in a mortar--and took out several thousand dollars--but as this plan was very tedious and laborious some method of crushing quartz was the whole theme of conversation. In February 1851 the first quartz mill was erected by Mr. Isaac Wright of New York--and propelled by water. In March Judge Walsh built the steam mill now owned by Crossett & Co. and in April commenced a new & larger quartz mill adjoining his saw mill. Quartz mining now attracted much attention in all parts of California.
    But Grass Valley has kept progressing in this branch of mining [more] than any other section in Cal. and contains some of the most valuable leads in the country.
    These are variously named--The Gold Hill Co.--Empire Co.--Grass Valley Mining Co.--Mount George Co.--Helvetia & Lafayette Gold Mining Co.--Manhattan Co. and several others most of which have been very productive.
    From the 11th of April to 11th of August 1852 the Helvetia & Lafayette Cos. took only $98,000 and the net profit after paying all expenses was $50,000. Now the expense of quarrying is much less than formerly--over half. Quartz paying from $15 to $20 per ton can be worked to great profit.
    In 4 months time the Empire Co. running but 12 stamps but 12 hours per day--from August 22nd to December 22nd, 1853 crushed 1390 tons of rock and the gross yield was $57,310.47 cts. or an average of a trifle over $41 per ton--and this result was from rock taken from nearly every mill in the vicinity--and among it was rock that did not pay over $1 per ton.
    There can be no doubt when suitable machinery can be introduced that the yield of gold from quartz will be enormous and will eventually be the permanent mining of the country and this will be one of the most productive districts of the state.--Grass V. Telegraph of June 29th, 1854.
    Grass Valley has a population of about 1,700 persons--a large number Englishmen from Cornwall. There are 3 churches--1 Congregationalist (the white one as shown in the engraving), Methodist a little to the left and a Catholic.
    There is Beatty's Hotel, Wells Fargo & Co.--in charge of Old Block (Mr. A. Delano), Adams & Co. There is a well conducted paper called the Telegraph.
    The Grass Valley Hotel, The Epicurean & Co. are very good hotels, especially the former!!! No bugs in it to speak of!!!!!!

October 6, 1854
Grass Valley to Rough & Ready 2nd time 4½ m.
    Rough & Ready see Sept. 29th.

October 7, 1854
Returned from Grass Valley to Nevada [City].
Sunday, October 8, 1854
Nevada--Sunday.

October 9, 1854
Cloudy--rained hard for 2 hours.
    This afternoon started from Nevada down Deer Ck. passing among shafts and deep cuts of hydraulic worked diggings, sluices, flumes and ditches--and a small dilapidated-looking village called Coyoteville--distance from Nevada about ¾ [of a] mile and upon what is generally known as "American Hill." Here there is a very deep open cut on both sides of the hill.
    One claim known as "Laird's diggings" must have paid considerable money for the expenses have been about $27,000 and they have paid all expenses and "a little over." We had just reached this place when it began to rain a little but on we went and after getting about 2 miles from Nevada we had to return as it rained.
    What a vast amount of labor seems to have been expended in opening diggings after they have been discovered. Sluices around here are remarkably long. First comes American Hill, next comes "Wet Hill"--next Oregon (next is "Lost Hill," lying south of Oregon Hill)--next is "Buckeye Hill"--next is "Buckeye Point"--"Pontiac Hill"--next is "Williams Hill" & next is "Coyote Hill" next is "Manzanita Hill" next is "Bourbon Hill"--asking a man about these he gave me the above names and said, "That's all I know--it's as far as my knowledge runs."

October 10, 1854
Cloudy.
Nevada to Kentucky Flat. 7 miles.
    This morning "bright and early" we started again down Deer Creek to the "Riffle Box Falls," passing several companies of men at work on the creek and who are doing remarkably well--
    There is one thing that strikes a man from a more southern locality more systematic than he has before seen. The overshot water wheel from 4 to 6 feet in diameter and from 2 to 3 ft. wide by which the large body of water gathering in the hole is entirely pumped out--these working day & night the hole is at all times ready for men working it.
    5 miles from Nevada on the north side of Deer Ck. is a small old-looking, "shaky" village with few houses and fewer men known as "Newtown"--but it looks very old. There are however 2 stores--to whom they sell is the mystery!
    1¼ miles below Newtown is Kentucky Flat--a flat about 3 miles in length with here & yonder a house--and although everything now looks dead and dried up--it is said that in the winter there will be a large number of miners from the Yuba & Deer Ck.
    We are now staying for the night at a "public house" known as "Bates'." They seem like [a] pretty good sort of folks--but they are from "Arkansas"--the butter upon the table would be good no doubt [for] "drawing" purposes it is so remarkably strong--I thought at first that I had by accident put a piece of old cheese and three or four "ants" on my bread--but--yes--it was BUTTER!!
    Had a bed stuffed with reeds or something that felt like it and a pillow of assorted reeds of a bigger kind--one's face looked in the morning as though we had pillowed our weary heads upon a washerwoman's scrubbing board--and in spots like the coarse side of a flag bottomed chair. "Sich is life."

October 11, 1854
Cloudy.
From Kentucky Flat to Pleasant Valley, Gold Flat back to Newtown.
    How hospitable are miners when they know you are far distant from any spot where the calls of a hungry stomach can be reasonably satisfied. Whatever they have is yours with a welcome and hearty good will that does a man as much good as the food.
    Went down this morning to "Gas Flat"--here there is quite a little settlement and some of the "female species" adorning it with rosy faces and lips that are truly tempting as though they were made expressly to [be] kissed and the return such as to be delicious!!!!!!
    Saw the worthy name-giver of Gas Flat who seemed full of fun and his comrades also.
    Journeying up the creek (Deer Ck.) I passed up the ridge towards Rough & Ready by way of Rich Flat--a place nearly deserted and perfectly dried up and by all I could learn it has never been worthy of its name. Following the canal along I was again brought to the "Riffle Box Falls" on Deer Ck.
    From one of the company I learned that in '52 a tunnel was cut through the hill by which to drain the ck. and which is 300 feet in length--through solid rock and cost $20,000 to put it through and the machinery to work the falls and pump the "riffle box" dry cost $7,000 more--and they took out the sum of $200--all told. This is frequently the way the miner labors and his money, time, health and all he possesses are embarked in an undertaking and he gets comparatively nothing.
    But recently this work has been turned to account--a canal [is] being cut to "Sucker Flat" and numerous other places below and is now paying a small return.

October 12, 1854
Cloudy--almost 5 o'clock p.m. began raining heavily.
Nevada [City] to Daw's Ranch 4½ m.
    This morning I received 2nd Commandments from H. R. Stiles of Nevada.
    Running about all the morning selling sheets by wholesale &c.
    About 3 o'clock p.m. we left Nevada, passing to the west of "Sugar Loaf Mountain" crossing 4 different canals which supply Nevada and the country around with water--the first canal put in was the "Coyote Ditch" (named from the Coyote lead running along the base of the several mountains)--next the "Deer Ck. Canal"--next "The Rock Ck. Canal"--next the "Arrow Mountain Ditch."--
    After crossing the "divide" we reached Shelby's Flat situated at the head of "Brush Ck." and is called 1¼ miles from Nevada. A little further north is "Thomas' Flat."
    Next point is the junction of "Brush" & "Rock" creeks and called "The Rock Ck. Ranch" 3 miles from Nevada.
    Then we reached "The Round Mountain House" or "Daw's Ranch." The road to this point is hilly but tolerably good for a mountain road.
    Saw some men fencing in a hillside. Why men will be so simple as make fences on land that is not only unproductive but liable to be dug up by the miner at any moment I cannot conceive.
    It is now half past seven p.m. and it rains in earnest--California does most things in earnest--whether rain, sun, window, labor, pleasure riding, walking or aught else--it is done in earnest.
    Heard a good remark at supper (bread & ham for supper!). "Big lumps of gold] get into the papers, but not the hard work to find them nor the big rocks to be removed to find but small quantities of gold."

October 13, 1854
Cloudy with occasional showers.
Round Mountain House to Emery's bridge, Middle Yuba 8¼ m.
    Leaving the Round Mountain House about 8 o'clock a.m. we journey on almost a mile and came to Shady Creek Robinson's bridge on the South Yuba by a very good mountain road.
    The South Fork of the Yuba is a deep river--from the mountain top to it--but now there is not a very large stream in it--there seems to be but little mining around the bridge the sides of the river being "adorned" with large heavy boulders of granite and the sides of the mountain are tolerably steep. The bridge at Robinson's is a good substantial structure and is well worth the toll paid when the length of road made--running round the steep declivity at an easy angle for wagons--toll for 1 horse wagon $1.
    Ascending the road north of the South Yuba it was very difficult from the rain that has been falling in showers all the morning. [Edward] Jump and I had to push with all our strength to reach the top. Arriving at the top of the hill (distance 1½ miles) we came to a small town called "Montezuma." It is a "town" if a few straggling cabins and a store or two can be called a town--yet they have lately discovered diggings of great richness running through the hill in the "Wish Cut." They are blasting through solid granite for 23 feet deep. At this place we had a miserably poor and cold meal for which we were charged $1 each and with the horse feed came to $2.50. I again remark that whenever we have the worst "feed" we pay the largest price--this was the Montezuma House.
    2½ miles from Robinson's Bridge we reached Shady Creek. The road has been very slippery hilly and hard for our poor horse--and it being rainy was very unpleasant. Could anyone have seen both of us pushing with all our might at the wagon they certainly would think that we were in pursuit of knowledge under difficulties--sometimes our feet slipping and down we fell. Yet we have only traveled 8½ miles today. We went to "Cherokee"--a small dried up place with but few people around and those not far from broke--they look and act like so many loafers. This "town" is called 4 miles from Robinson's Bridge.
    The distance from Robinson's on South Yuba to Emery on Middle Yuba is 6¾ miles by the road.
    The Middle Yuba is very low--there is a squaw here with a perfectly white child. Had a good rat hunt.

October 14, 1854
Fine.
From Emery's Crossing of M. Yuba to Cold Spring House.
    Emery's is but an indifferent place to tarry--the table is very good--but sleeping very bad and dirty.
    From this bridge to the junction of Middle and North Yuba it is 7½ miles--and 2½ miles above to the boundary line of Sierra Co.
    Leaving the bridge we ascended a very long hill not less than 2½ miles in length and very slippery in places from the rains of the past few days--and it is as much as two men pushing with all their might to assist the horse that we reached the top which we did about ¼ past 11 a.m.
    The Nevada road joins the Marysville & Downieville road at the "Oak Tree Ranch."
    We dined at Franklin House on the road and then passed on a tolerable road until we reached the "Big Hill" where from the steep ascent and slippery surface we had to unload most of our "traps" [i.e., "stuff"] and after pushing with all our might and the horse drawing with all of his we made the "first pitch" and loading up again we moved on to the next--where we again unloaded and carried them onward a short distance and then fetched up the wagon by main trouble of the three of us--horse & 2 men--and then leaving the wagon would fetch up the luggage--by these hard attempts just as the sun had set we reached within a short distance of the top--when my horse was attacked with a violent colic and dropped down as though he were shot, breaking the wagon shaft. Here was a dilemma. We soon liberated him from the wagon and by hard rubbing eased him sufficiently for him to stand up--but here we were--two miles from any house--a broken wagon and a sick horse--and both of us ready to lie down with fatigue. We eventually got ourselves and our horse to the Cold Spring House--leaving our wagon and our goods by the roadside. By & by the horse grew easier, and as we were weary & hungry we satisfied the inner man first and then laid the outer man upon the soft side of a pine plank and under a few blankets and--being too fatigued we caught no fleas but were all the night dreaming of their biting without the power to catch them.
    The forest is very dense about Cold Spring.

Sunday, October 15, 1854
Fine.
Cold Spring to Forest City, 4½ miles.
    The horse being in a wet stable and all the accommodations proportional--we decided that it certainly [is] the part of true Christians to look after No. 1 as well as our horse and consequently started for this place--which we reached in time for dinner.
    Met Mr. Eastman of San F.--the artist for my commandment who was taking a sketch of this place for Sam Langton of Downieville.
    The town all of an uproar with the arrival of Yankee Sullivan. How small a thing will miners catch at for any change--or amusement--all old feeling of a precious sabbath forgotten.
    At night heard Mr. Douglas of the San F. Pacific who preached to us a good honest sermon--but with little interest to the people. He came to Cal. in the year 1848 established "The Pacific" a religious newspaper in 1851 and continued it with good success up to the present time.
    What a contrast between preaching and sparring--while we are listening in the dining room of the "Henry House" to the word of life--the hurrahs of a crowd at the "Reed House" are witnessing a sparring exhibition between Yankee Sullivan and some three others engaged taking lessons in the manly art of self-defense.
    Last fall the bears were very numerous here--strolling through the town during the night, "expressing" provisions from the cabins of the miners to a shady retreat of privacy without express charges. One aged growler was appropriating a piece of meat for the 20th time from a butcher's shop--and received the present of ½ lb. of lead in return for his voluntary services when he immediately lay down and (no doubt from gratitude) would not move away--and the butcher to assist his departure sold him at 25 cts. per lb.
October 16, 1854
Fine.
Forest City.
    This is a singular town lying deep from the hill at the junction of two forks of Oregon Creek (this creek although 16 or 17 miles in length has no place on a map).
    As you descend by a steep road down the hill you look in wonder at the distant houses--here and there indistinctly seen through the trees of the forest hill you are descending and winding your way--to the right the creek is crossed--occasionally passing a house or cabin until you find yourself in a narrow street of houses and striking the attention first are the "Henry" & "Reed" houses. (We were hungry, so that is easily accounted for and numerous other signs extending across the street of "The City Stable" "The Forest City Stable" &c. &c.)
    This town is about 90 miles from Sacramento City and 60 from Marysville. There is a daily stage running to Nevada and a triweekly stage to Marysville.
    This town was first settled in the fall of 1852 by a Dutch company who began first to work in the creek and made good wages and afterwards in Decr. 1852 commenced the first tunnel here, and now there are over twenty different tunnels all of which are paying. Some of these are named the Dutch Co. No. 1, No. 2 & No. 3--"Live Yankee" tunnels No. 1 & No. 2--"Buckeye" tunnel--"Empire" tunnel--"New World" tunnel--"Enterprise" and a number of others.
    The Live Yankee tunnel is now 750 feet in the hill--there are 6 men in the compy. and they have averaged per man (since striking the pay dirt) $272 per week (now more than twelve months since)--but they worked over 9 months before finding pay in putting in their tunnel about 500 feet through solid rock--most of the way.
    "The Buckeye Co." tunnel is next above and--this is 600 ft. long--6 men in the co.--have averaged about $360 each per week or $2000 per week divided amongst them. They have made as high as $4,000 per week to the six men.
    It is estimated that there are about 2500 persons who get their supplies of provisions &c. from Forest City. There are about 90 families--about 5 marriageable ladies--poor chances for bachelors here.
    This town is situated on Oregon Creek (on the south fork of) a creek about 17 miles in length, yet not named on the map.
    There is now a small steam saw mill--which blew upon Aug. 7th, 1854 injuring several men, but killing none. Are about erecting a church. There are about 70 "Sons" an order of Odd Fellows who have the hall on the hill as shown in the sketch. Also an order of Masons. Snow falls almost 8 feet deep--sometimes considerably more.

October 17, 1854
Fine.
Forest City to Smith's Flat 2 miles and Chip's Diggings 3¾ m.
    This morning we ascended the hill from Forest City and crossing the ridge made Smith's Flat about 11 o'clock a.m. and by a steep trail descended & crossed Kanaka Creek ascending a steep hill to Chip's Diggings--here we tarried for the night.
October 18, 1854
Fine.
From "Chip's" to Minnesota 1 mile and Orleans Flat 3 miles.
    After a good night's sleep left Chip's and crossed over the divide between Kanaka Ck. and the Middle Fork of Yuba River and descended a long and difficult hill to German Bar--crossed and ascended the hill--steep, long and difficult--passing through Snow Point to Orleans Flat one mile west of Snow Point.
    Snow Point is situated upon an elevated flat or what is more generally known as a "slide" about 900 feet above Middle Yuba--and on the great Sierra County "lead." It contains 3 stores, two boarding houses and as near as I could judge about 15 loafers and 7 working men!!! They lay about--I mean the loafers--and look with a large stock of impudence upon every stranger who passes through as though they would say, "What have you got there, stranger? If you'd just show us you'd 'obleege' us mightily." Just as this was going on about my humble self up rode the expressman to the tavern store, and in the twinkling of a mousetrap there was a general stampede towards him to inquire the news--and see if there were any letters for them (as the mail had arrived below and the expressman is the connecting link between the valleys and the mountains and is an invariably welcome visitor). Just to see how some countenances sparkle with delight as they hold in their hand the welcome treasure received from dear ones at home. I am a neglected individual now--even by the loafers--who, if they receive for a few hours an inspiration to exertion that they may the sooner reach their friends--it is soon over--and indolence again triumphs.

October 19, 1854
Fine.
From Orleans Flat back again to Minnesota, Chip's, Smith's and Fred's upon the hill to Downieville 7½ miles.
    How worn and weary do I feel after this day's labor, crossing those deep mountain courses--those furrows deep in the face of Nature from the top of the ridge to the deep below 1000 feet and up again. Orleans Flat stands upon an elevated bench of the mountain on the south side of the Middle Yuba and consists of a population of about 600 persons a large number of cabins and a goodly number of stores. These diggings similar to "Chip's," "Minnesota," "Forest City"--"Last Chance" and a number of others are upon the great lead of Sierra County.
    There are in this place about 19 tunnels, 17 of which are paying splendidly--although at the present time there is little doing for the want of water.

October 20, 1854
Fine.
Downieville.
    This is the county town of Sierra County from Sac. City __ miles and from Marysville __ miles. It is situated at the junction of the north and south forks of the North Yuba. From Galloway's Ranch it is four miles down the hill and must lie not less than 1,300 feet from the ridge down which there is a good wagon road now although everything was packed down on mules until within the last year. This place seems supported principally by river mining, although there are extensive bank diggings--the town literally stands upon timber as there are tunnels underneath the whole town or nearly--
    Mining in the rivers is commenced as soon as the water is turned through the flume, when water wheels are fixed in the flume by which pumps--rotary pumps--are worked & by which the diggings are kept consistently dry. By means of these wheels all the wash dirt is elevated from 8 to 20 feet and unloaded in a box prepared to receive it--after which it is shoveled into the sluice and washed.
    By the North Fork there are now extensive diggings washed upon the "hydraulic" plan.
    The people of Downieville seem to possess much enterprise but I have heard more "rowdyism" than for a long time. It appears that the dist. attorney is one of the rowdy leaders--taking down signs and putting them up in some ludicrous connection with the articles sold--frequently drunk. There is certainly less order than in any other town I have yet entered--and you hear the grating brogue of drunken Irishmen above all. A Jew told me that one of his countrymen & religion had a quarrel and fisticuff with another--when the latter went for a warrant to have the other arrested; when the case was tried they were both found guilty and had to pay costs to the amount of $26 each. This may be justice but it is certainly rather dear. Another was sitting at his door when John Chinaman passed and to whom he said, "How do, John" and put out his hand to shake hands--not observing that he had a penknife open and which accidentally cut "John" just about enough to bleed slightly--when John complained to the "justice" and the man was brought in "not guilty" but had to pay the costs $26--rather hard luck--when nothing was intended.

October 21, 1854
Cloudy.
Downieville.

Sunday, October 22, 1854
Rainy all day.
Downieville.

October 23, 1854
Cloudy.
From Downieville to Cox's, Snake, Goodyear's, Hoodoo & Rantedoddler [Ranty Doddler] bars 6½ m.
    Journeying down the North Fork of Yuba this morning from Downieville--the whole course was one of floating spars, lumber, wheels &c. The heavy rains of yesterday had swollen the river and washed down flumes, wheels and tools--here you could see the drum of one wheel had floated down and caught upon another which other seemed more securely fixed. Here again were men busily engaged, rescuing pumps, derricks and timbers from their insecure places and removing them "high and dry" to prevent their floating away.
    There you could see others standing with their hands thrust low into their breeches pockets looking discouragingly upon the havoc made and prospects ruined. Holes that took several days to pump out were filled with water, in several could you see the end of a rotary pump still attached to the wheel-shaft--but buried beneath the rocks and sand was the end below. Further on some were engaged in packing & propping up their flumes and where the water had left a flume in undisturbed possession of its former situation, round flew the wheel and worked as if in earnest to pump it out as fast as water could run in--at these places long pines were lashed across the river to prevent any floating materials from injuring the pump.
    Further on we met numbers of men with their blankets at their back "putting out" for the dry diggings--
    Others again seemed just as busy and just as successful as though no rain had fallen--these were in good high places and as a general thing had bank or tunnel diggings.
    It is surprising to see the number of tunnels as low as the stream running in for several hundred feet under the immense and lofty mountains that guard the Yuba River.
    How beautifully bold is the scenery of the Yuba River.

October 24, 1854
Cloudy & rain for 1 hour (3 p.m.).
    Goodyear's Bar is situated on the North Yuba 5½ miles below Downieville at the junction of "Goodyear's" and Rock creeks with the North Yuba. It is named from a gentleman who first settled here and who employed a few Indians in the fall of '49 to work for him. He died here and was buried underneath that green oak tree standing on that ridge (as shown in the view).
    We had great sport with a German named Julius Meinhardt--postmaster. We had sketched his likeness with some others and he was shown with his coat out at the elbows and a Dr. at the Exchange showed it to him when I was out and he offered "almost any money" to be taken properly. He would not like his friends in "Ghermany" to see him with so bad a coat as it certainly was what might be termed "shocking bad"--for, said he, "I have friends in Ghermany what are rich, and I will give you letters of introduction to them when you take your panorama to Germany if you will, but put me a good coat on." I assured him that we would put him as good a coat on as he could get, and we were remarkably cheap tailors, for we would do it without charge. The little fellow came up after dinner "dressed within an inch of his life"--for, said he, "I've come to make sure--now sketch me"--so we sketched him.
    On several of the bars here the diggings back in the bar are lower than those in the stream and frequently you see 10 or 11 levers attached from the pump to the wheel thus
Some of the cans of dirt are drawn out by a rope attached to a wheel.
October 25, 1854
Cloudy with occasional showers--cold.
Downieville to Cold Spring 12 miles.
    This morning we ascended the long and difficult hill from Downieville to Galloway's 4½ miles in length. This hill must be not less than from 14 to 15,000 feet above Downieville. On arriving near the top we found that the snow had fallen about 2 inches in depth.
    This road--although called good--is far from a good road and the snow and rain had made it slippery--some ox teams with both hind wheels locked had great difficulty in holding back the wagon. Stages do not attempt to go down it. This morning I saw a trunk or rather box in Layton's & Bros. Express--4 feet long 2 ft. 2 wide 23 inches deep and full of clothing or something heavy--and was the one I saw coming down the Goodyear hill in company with another having a wheelbarrow.
    The road from Galloway's down is a passable mountain road although it [is] hilly in places and rocky nearly the whole distance down--from Galloway's to "Ford's Ranch" 4 miles to Cold Spring 8 miles--
    At Cold Spring they have a miserably filthy and wet stable and have to be watched in the amount of feed given to your horse or in the morning his sides would be rather hollow.

October 26, 1854
Rain--rain--rain all day--all night.
Cold Spring to Plum Valley--4 miles.
    As we were unpleasantly located at Cold Spring I thought that we would brave the storm of wind and rain & sleet and seek good quarters for ourselves and horse by going to Plum Valley--but alas we didn't mend the matter much. The horse alone improved by the change. This place is kept by some Germans who have no remarkable genius for peeling potatoes or "melting down" lean and tough beefsteak. It is true they had some stew--but that was burnt--and some butter but that was strong--and tea--made from leaves and straw--I only judge the decoction by the taste--the coffee would have been better if they hadn't forgot to boil the water and grind the berries--I am not a good swimmer or I might have risked the difficult task of diving my mouth underneath the floating fragments on the top--
    In the "bar room" there were about a dozen teamsters who, like myself, have [been] weatherbound--and some joined me in looking at the heavy clouds of fog rolling through the pines or occasionally exclaiming "Bless me, don't it come down in earnest."
    In a corner were a party of "poker" players (teamsters generally seem to be inveterate "poker" players)--
    In one would come with streaming clothes, leaving his team a moment while he took a "prospective" look at the amount of comfort to be enjoyed in the shape of good company or a hot stove--and it was kept hot all day--no doubt as a temptation to outsiders who were wet and cold--"George I guess we'll put up the mules and stay, eh?" "Yes," and they "stayed."
    The road from "Cold Spring" to Plum Valley is much better than it is from Plum Valley to Cold Spring--the latter being up one of the worst (the worst) hills upon this road. Yet in coming down this hill we came very near upsetting the wagon. The rain had washed a very low gutter just below a large rock and the upper wheel had to go over the rock and over tipped the wagon. I felt it going and was just in time to get my shoulder to it and a large log being close to the wheel it did not fall to the ground--and by hard lifting up we fetched it and although the rain was falling fast--on we went--
    The road is very slippery now on the red clayey hills.

October 27, 1854
Fine--beautifully fine.
From Plum Valley to Franklin House, Indian Springs & Camptonville.
    This morning being bright and fine and breakfast being ready by sunrise we started early--but found the road slippery and difficult--yet it is a very good mountain road. Leaving Plum Valley we came to a new "stand" called the "Franklin House" 2 miles from P.V.--1 mile further brought us to another--family-built log cabin with a large team of mules standing at the door--1 mile further brought us to the junction of the "Emery's Crossing" and "Foster's Bar" roads--a shriveled sallow looking man from Arkansas told us that Indian Spring lay "down thar" one mile. Reaching "Indian Springs" found that fire had taken one building and energy was building another. On we went down a gentle declivity until within ½ [of] a mile of Oregon Creek when it became steeper although good. The water running down Oregon Ck. is more like floating mud. This creek joins the Middle Yuba about 1½ miles below the road. There is a garden on the bottomland--or alluvial--of this creek, near the rude bridge.
    We ascended a hill upon a good grade although very difficult for our "one horse concern" and 1½ miles from the creek came to the "Junction House" by E. Bogardus. Here the Camptonville road joins the Downieville road to Foster's Bar and here we dined while the landlord's wife smoked her pipe and the landlord with his hands in his breeches pocket profoundly observed, "Help yourselves."
    From the "Junction House" to "Camptonville" it is called 2 miles and there are two very bad hills in that two miles--I don't intend to forgive! the Camptonville people for allowing poor travelers to go up a hill--a difficult hill--and then go down nearly as far when a good road at small cost could be made around it. This is nearly true of the second hill.
    In town met Mr. Langton & Mr. Eastman just arrived from Downieville.

October 28, 1854
Fine.
Camptonville, Yuba Co.--
    The approach to Camptonville is picturesque although situated upon a ridge and the houses are built among the trees--one standing opposite to the "Garcey" house is a cedar trimmed of all its branches but a few just at the top--it is a cedar.
    Camptonville and its vicinity contains a population of about 1,300 persons among whom are 35 families-most of them living in cabins--comfortably--while the husbands and sons work at mining--there are 9 marriageable women (one being a widow of only 45 years of age considers herself among the number!!)
    This place is remarkably quiet and orderly being composed chiefly of persons who contemplate a permanent residence, many of whom have been home and returned to settle.
    This town is situated upon a direct course from Marysville to Downieville 40 miles from the former and twenty from the latter.
    It was first called "Gold Ridge" being pleasantly situated on the dividing ridge of Oregon & Willow creeks--but has since been named Camptonville in honor of Robert Campton, a blacksmith and "forty-niner" who was one of the first settlers here.
    These diggings were discovered in October 1852 by a party of prospectors. The gravel or pay dirt varies from 10 to 100 ft. in depth and being supplied with water (by canals) from Oregon & Willow cks. the "hydraulic" method of washing has become generally adopted--and the gold being very fine is saved by means of quicksilver and false bottoms in long sluices.
    Capital being required to "open" a claim but few can succeed who has not been provident and an invariable reward being the result it makes the population more select and permanent, and many years must elapse before the diggings can be worked out.
    There is a Masonic lodge also a division of the Sons of Temperance--no church--no school house--
    In the immediate vicinity of Camptonville is "Galena Mill"--settled chiefly by lead miners from Galena, Illinois--and--"Young's Mill"--Mr. Young having first prospected the hill and successfully marked it--then there is also "Weed's Point"--& "Railroad Hill"--named from the method of running the pay dirt to the water of Willow Creek.

Sunday, October 29, 1854
Fine.
Camptonville.
    Nothing going on to amuse or instruct on Sunday here--it went rather heavy as I had no convenience for my usual Sunday's employment when there is no church (writing home).
    In the evening I heard singing and thinking it a church of some kind I followed the sound up some stairs and seeing some persons sitting there I went in--but--found it was a choir of Welshmen & women singing psalm tunes in their native tongue--soon "vamoosed the ranch."

October 30, 1854
Fine--neither cool & windy.
From Camptonville to White Maple Spring House.
    Leaving Camptonville we descended by a good road to Foster's Bar 5½ miles below. This bar is situated on the North Yuba and contains about 200 inhabitants. It is on the direct road from C. to Marysville. River mining has not been very profitable this year at this point but owing to its position upon the road--people manage to live (Langton & Co.) [and] Rumrill & Co. express offices--the latter running with Wells F. & Co. & the former with Adams & Co. There's a number of Frenchmen here. There is a post office also--money scarce--
    Leaving this bar we ascended a very bad hill--the grade being too steep and winded around a hill on a gradual declivity to Oregon Creek (there are two creeks of this name near here) & here I was astonished to find a little town that has sprung up within a few weeks--they think that good and extensive diggings are in the flats and hills around--most of them are people who have crossed the plains this year.
    It was now half past four (the sun setting about 5 o'clock) I wanted to reach the Key-Stone Ranch and ascended the hill which although very long is very gradual, but before reaching the top it was dark--or rather moonlight and then descending towards the Maple Ranch we stopped for the night.
    The wind blowing down the clothes of the forest trees or rather their leaves and as it whistled through them it sounded a melancholy blast that told of winter being on the way--
    The White Maple Ranch set a passable table but very flea-y accommodation. My stars--one--if we got to sleep--dreamed of fleas without the power of catching them.

October 31, 1854
Fine.
From White-Maple Spring House to Lincoln's Ranch 22 miles.
    This morning we left the White-Maple Spring House passing down an easy grade to the "Key-Stone Ranch" 1½ miles--still down to the "Oregon House" __ miles and at noon we reached the Stanfield Ranch House and dined. From this point we struck across towards Bidwell's Bar--crossing the South Honcut River about 4½ miles from Stanfield's and there making a bend north we struck the Marysville and Hansonville road on the top of the hill ½ mile from Lincoln's Ranch.
    This house seems well kept and well patronized for several large teams stand (as shown in the sketch) around it--the mules feeding &c.--is distant from Marysville __miles.

November 1, 1854
Fine
From Lincoln's Ranch to Bidwell's Bar 14 miles.
    The cross road to Bidwell's is very good. We passed through Wyandotte--a small dried up town--everybody looking discouraged--saw several prospecting--they looked like many others--surprised at our singularly shaped wagon.
    Bidwell's Bar is the county seat of Butte County and is a central point for American Valley &c. &c. The people here (about 500) depend upon the surrounding mines for support--it seems dull. This place was first settled in '48 by a young man (from Missouri I believe) after whom the bar is named. It is 37 miles from Marysville. Rich Bar worked last year--the principal claim of which was the one known as the "Sailor Claim" out of which $240,000 were taken.

November 2, 1854
Fine.
From Bidwell's Bar to Forbestown--about 16 miles.
    This morning we left Bidwell's Bar and after ascending a long and gradual ravine for about 2½ miles we reached the Miners Ranch. My wagon having caused us considerable trouble on the Downieville road I determined to leave it behind--with every unnecessary article it contained and borrowing an old saddle--packed our "duds" and "put out" for the mountains. We had not journeyed far before we were well satisfied that had we the wagon our old trouble would recommence with several difficult hills to climb--our wagon was "stuck" and there it would have remained for some time had we not "put our shoulder to the wheel" and started it. Our experience having taught on bad roads that a "friend in need is &c." Up up we went and then by a gradual descent reached the Buffalo Ranch and kept upon a good road for several miles. About 9 miles from Miners Ranch we passed a steam saw mill--and a fine spring of water--2 miles further another mill (Robinson).
    From this point we look "over the hill" and kept upon the ridge until we reached Forbestown--descending for 1½ miles and reached it.
    Forbestown is an oddly shaped little town situated on the northwestern slope of the divide between the Yuba & Feather rivers, about 2 miles south of the South Fork of Feather River and 39 miles from Marysville--by which city it is supplied with its provisions, tools &c. at all seasons of the year. This town commanding a small circle around including some bars on the rivers is quite a busy little place and contains about 900 inhabitants 80 of whom are females. In its vicinity there are several rich ravines and gulches &c. named "Perkins Ravine"--"New York Ravine"--"New York Flats"--"Ohio" & "Dickson's Gulch" &c. &c. This place was first settled in '49 and was then and for a considerable time afterwards known as "Toll's Old Diggings" from Mr. Toll who was the discoverer of gold here. On the ravine that bore his name there has been $10,000 taken out to 30 feet square of ground. During the summer of '52 this place was nearly abandoned--like many other old places--but the following winter brought the "prospectors" back again and remaining here have mostly done well. This place was called Forbestown from a man named Forbes who built the first store here. It is 12 miles from Foster's Bar, Yuba River--& 45 miles from Gibsonville--so sad. There are quite a number of Indians in this vicinity and the tribe--generally known as the "Feather River Tribe" numbers about 8 or 900 although divided into several different bands.
    There are quite a number of naturalized citizens here coming from all countries. When I was here a son of "The Green Isle of Erin" had been "prospecting" a ravine and had found a dollar to the pan--and considering it a good "prospect" he thought that he would secure that claim--when--to his astonishment he saw a notice on a stump at a short distance and which specified that "We the undersigned claim so many feet from this and that point and have duly recorded the same." Seeing some men at a short distance he began to make some inquiries like the following--"I say misther who hounds thim claims?" "We do" (replied the men). "Will thin by gorrah yous have no right to thim." "Yes (they replied) "we have a right, for we have had them recorded all summer." Now the Irishman became a little wrathy. "Oh the divil recard yes--divil an auld stump within tin miles of Forbestown that hasn't a plasther of paper as big as a winder stuck on it with 'Recorded' in big words all over the paper from the tap to the bottom--to the divil with the recorder--the beast." But Mr. Paddy couldn't gammon them out of it they said--nor he didn't.

November 3, 1854
Fine.
From Forbestown to Frey & Foster's Fall River House 18 miles.
    Wishing to have a view of the magnificent waterfalls on Fall River and Forbestown being considered a good place to start from this morning we started on our visit over.
    Before starting however it was necessary to know the trail, as road there was none--and as those who informed us knew about as much of it except by hearsay as we did--we were to cross at "Bingham's Bar"--but we took the wrong trail and went almost endways in part of the hill down--but how my poor horse kept from turning a "somerset" I wouldn't like to say--for the best of considered reasons--didn't know--we however reached "Randolph Point" and taking our way downstream--over and around big rocks tumbling over one and sliding down another--horse still following--until we saw some men at work who told us that the trail to so and so took in this direction and--there it forked and here it didn't--describing on the sand "exactly" the course we had to take. Off we started and made sure that we could see the whole thing "as clear as mud" and going straight up--oh! an awful hill--we reached a trail and followed it until it "run out"--now here we are so many miles from "nowhere" and nobody knowing where anybody lived or where we were--for we couldn't see a soul--there was one vast forest of stately pines--to some of which the Indians had "not long since" attached some long slender poles by which to climb the great sugar pines--but the poles couldn't tell us aught and the Indians had "vamoosed the ranch"--on, on we went in the direction indicated by our informants--but no trail. Walking and riding on on on--but where? that was the question--the sun was fast sinking and we wished to break our fast but beyond a few pieces of sugar plucked from the heart of the burnt pines we got nothing.
    On, on we plodded not much relishing the idea of sleeping out, without blankets nor making dinner and supper out of nothing--we crossed this ravine--worked our way through that chaparral and as we were going through one piece of heavy brush we saw--no it was not a grizzly bear--no--but--a man--a real live man--a "prospector"--joy, joy keep down, "Don't write me down an ass--but I was pleased I was." He hunted round until he found a dim trail and pointing to some sticks or rotten wood set up against trees, said, "When the trail gets dim--look ahead for them." We soon reached the main trail from Bidwell's Bar to the upper bars, and about an hour after sunset reached the "Fall River House"--here I need not say we put the inner man to work and rested the outer man by sleep.
November 4, 1854
Fine.
Fall River House to the waterfall of Fall River & back.
    This morning early we were soon on our way down the ridge towards the falls--about 5 miles from the house--about 10 o'clock we reached the Middle Fork of Feather River and although we had been climbing round here and there to avoid a supposed abrupt side of the hill--and made the 5 miles about 9--the direct course would be straight down the main ridge. Thus to avoid only a supposed difficulty--that of getting down to the river--we spent two of the best hours of the morning unprofitably and very fatiguingly--at length by "dint" of climbing and sliding and scratching through the bushes we reached the Middle Fork of Feather and following up--on the south side (too much water to cross) we made our way and where the bold mountainsides stood close to the water--as we couldn't get past we climbed up around them and down again to the river when a view--a beautiful--an awfully majestic view rewarded our labor.
    What language or pencil can picture the sublime magnificence--the bold and lofty grandeur the towering heights of rocks upon rocks that encircles the scene around and astonishes the beholder--
    On either side of the leaping sheet of spray stand the granite sides of two immense mountains--their tall summits covered with lofty pines and from all the interstices or seams between them grow the stands [of] live oak--like fragments or patches of an uneven brand upon the face of Nature--the pines appear but little larger in proportion than good sized walking canes. In the center before you and from the bed of the Middle Fork of Feather River where we are supposed to stand 700 feet above the stream--there we see the rim or ledge of rocks over which falls the stream and which with one bold leap clears 400 feet of perpendicular height--dashing itself to millions of liquid atoms and throwing up a volume of rolling mists that are gilded and colored by the noonday sun with every variety of tint--a rainbow of beauty on an arid summer's day.
    On on it rushes--unheeding the huge boulders that the giant mountains above have thrown down in their puny efforts to obstruct its course--but on it goes and if it cannot roll them on before it--it dashes past or climbs their shoulders and leaps before them--sometimes into a gurgling eddy--at others on the bald-crowned granite of its would-be tyrant--and within a quarter of a mile from its high leap it mingles with the larger stream and flows on contentedly [in] its course. It is [a] pleasant pastime to listen to the varied melody of water as it rushes or leaps, or gurgles, or rattles, or boils or foams or creeps, or ripples, or splashes in its course to the sea. On the projecting sides of this fall there is one stream of spray from the top to the bottom.

Sunday, November 5, 1854
Fine.
Fall River House to Forbestown.
    When I started over here it was told me to be not over 9 miles and I thought that we could go one day and take the view and return yesterday--and as the horse was upon poor fare I thought that I would quietly return, enjoying the Calvary season of rest to everything that labors (or ought to be) and think of home and friends--and this way I spent this day until noon--and when we arrived the town was in an uproar. "What's up?" I inquired. "Oh only a bull and bear fight." I was very weary and this made me [glad] that I had kept away.

November 6, 1854
Fine.
From Forbestown to Oroleva 6½ miles.
    After taking a view of Forbestown we journeyed upon an excellent road up the ridge. It has been very pleasant--as on either side was one continuous forest of pines & cedar open and clear from brush wood underneath--it was shady. There was one long hill to climb, with a good grade--and in the evening we reached Oroleva--
    This is a small town of empty houses and stables and derived its name from "oro" the Spanish word for gold and "leva" the Indian for creek--"Gold Creek." (It is astonishing how all the Indian is mixed with Spanish--they seem almost incapable of originating anything--but children.)
    This town originated from a quartz mining company which commenced a mill for crushing quartz--and built outbuildings for stock etcetera, and others came and began to build stores and boarding houses &c. but as the chief capital of this company was labor and that labor was required to work claims that most of them had in the river--and by which they intended to finish their works at Oroleva--and which claims proving an entire failure--the company was broken up and the works being altogether abandoned the town became a "deserted village."
    Just as this company had complete their flume which had cost them twenty thousand dollars--the early rain came and swept it completely away. How many poor fellows are disappointed the same way.
    Now this town stands in utter desolation having one public house called "The Eagle Hotel" an excellent house for travelers or teamsters.

November 7, 1854
Fine.
Oroleva to the Lexington House 18½ miles.
    It certainly is delightfully pleasant to travel this road at this season of the year--and I should judge much more so in summer. For just the same as yesterday we have been traveling among lofty pines--some of them over 8 feet in diameter--sugar pines--one of them we measured at the ground and it was 12 ft. 6 in diameter. These magnificent trees edging in one's pathway and scattering their decaying foliage around makes one think of the autumnal months of a colder clime.
    From Oroleva to "Strawberry Valley" (more generally known as the "Columbus House") it is called 6 miles--pretty long ones I think--thence to the "Buckeye House" 2½ miles. This is the southern corner of Plumas Co. From the "Buckeye" to the Lexington House the road is heavy and hard and is 10 miles.
    Strawberry Valley contains several scattering stores and a population of about 300 persons a number of whom are ladies. It derives its name from the number of strawberries growing near.

November 8, 1854
Fine all day. Windy & cloudy at night.
From Lexington House to  Gibsonville.
    We are now very high above the sea [level] and in the winter snow falls tolerably deep.
    The road is difficult--the stages never attempting to get higher than the Lexington and after the rains in Oct. has not run past the Columbus House--Strawberry Valley and [omission?] didn't like that very well.
    By mistake we went round by "Grass Valley" and found it a very small place can scarcely be called a town--as it contains but 3 stores & 1 hotel. Goods are brought to this point by wagons and are thence packed to Nelson Creek--Onion Valley--American Valley and other places--so that the stores are merely storehouses--the business is packing and plenty of mules and a few donkeys are to be seen.
    It is a good valley for grass I should judge in the season.
    Leaving Grass Valley we came upon the right road again about 11 o'clock near the Mountain House opposite St. Louis--
    The road now towards Gibsonville descends towards Slate Creek--
November 9, 1854
Fine. Windy at night.
Gibsonville.
    As one enters the precincts or outskirts of Gibsonville there is one striking feature observable in the cabins that I have not seen elsewhere--the larger part of a kind of double cabin is filled with firewood--snow in the winter falling from 12 to 13 feet in depth makes wood chopping business dull in the winter.
    This town is situated upon the northern side of the North Fork of Slate Creek about 70 miles from Marysville--contains an average population of about 700 persons--among whom are 20 families--3 marriageable young ladies--and about 29 children.
    These diggings were discovered in the fall of 1850 by a Mr. Gibson from whom the town received its name. The gold is generally round or what is more generally called "coarse" and one lump of pure gold weighing 20 lbs. was found here--also a large quartz rock weighing two tons having gold interspersed all through it and when ground there were $2,500 worth of gold taken from it.
    There is about an average of 3,000 ounces per week during the business season--yet not over 100 ounces in the dry--per week.
    Water for washing among the hills is brought from Slate Creek and the main ditch from Feather River--this latter ditch is 8 miles long and is brought through a mountain by tunnel for 300 yards. These diggings have gold from the surface to the rock although it pays nine-tenths of the gold from just on the bedrock. There are 7 boarding houses--neither worth a crooked dollar for accommodations--8 stores (the storekeepers look hungry)--3 livery stables (oh dear! what stables--an old cabin without a floor--no manger--no hay rack--and not much hay)--1 gambling saloon (everybody talks of cards at night, in the morning before breakfast--and as you meet them in the street they look as though they were making a gloomy mental inquiry: "If hearts were trumps, who had the 'ten-spot'?")--2 shoemakers--1 clothing store--1 jeweler's & book store. Then there are "Everts & Co.'s Express" and "Rumrill & Co.'s Express" & banking houses. There is also a newspaper published here called The Gibsonville Messenger edited by a gentleman of sober deportment (he would make an excellent Presbyterian) but withal a man of good information and learning.

November 10, 1854
Fine--beautifully fine & warm.
From Gibsonville to Pine Grove, Chandlerville & St. Louis 4½.
    This morning we crossed Slate Creek (both forks) to "Pine Grove." It is said that mine was the first horse that had ever crossed by this trail (I took it by accident) and found it rough enough for any reasonable man to travel or good horse--
    "Pine Grove" is called 2½ miles from Gibsonville--
    Here as in the latter place men were busily employed cutting and splitting firewood. A large train of pack mules of about 53 in number had just arrived from Marysville.
    From P. Grove to Chandlerville it is one mile--upon the same ridge or flat extending for several miles on the south bank of Slate Creek.
    At Chandlerville I saw the boys I met with across the mountains to Carson Valley--with the "Hall" family in '53. From C.ville to St. Louis one mile--diggings or signs of diggings all the way.

November 11, 1854
Fine.
St. Louis.

Sunday, November 12, 1854
Fine.
St. Louis.
November 13, 1854
Fine.
From St. Louis to Gibsonville--Onion Valley & Nelson Crk. 10 m.
    Onion Valley lies 4 miles a little east of north from Gibsonville crossing a very high ridge. This place derives its name from the upper part of the valley being literally green with wild onions--looking nearly as green as a valley of grass. It was settled in the spring of 1850--and in 1851 was a large business center and contained 13 hotels besides stores of different kinds and had a population varying from 2,500 to 4,000 persons. Business was done here and was the headquarters for "Hopkins Creek," "Poor Man's Ck.," "Nelson Creek," "Dickson Creek," "Rich Bar," "Hottentot," & "Shasta City" (these three latter towns are on the Middle Fork of Feather River), "Gibsonville," "Pine Grove" and "Whiskey Diggings" and even the city of 76 did its trading here at first although over 20 miles distant--but it gradually melted away as a town as new ones were built and stores established at more convenient distances--so that now it only contains one store and one boarding house--chiefly for the accommodation of "packers." The largest house shown in the sketch is the store of Mr. Timberman, and in the winter of 1852 snow fell to the depth of 25 feet--entirely covering the building--shortly afterwards the snow thawed a little and left the highest corner of the house 6 inches out of the snow and every night the wolves would come and stand howling upon this one warm spot to their feet. The "Liberty Pole" tree stump of which is shown in the sketch (or should be) was cut down, and drawn inwards to prop up the roof. During this snow the inhabitants cut a passage from Timberman's house (or Miner's Retreat) to the "Golden Gate Hotel" opposite as a means of visiting each other.
    Pilot Peak (said to be 13,000 feet high from the sea but I don't think it can be as high by 1,500 or 2000 feet) stands on the eastern side of Onion Valley--I climbed to the top in company with several residents of the valley where we found that the fragments of the national banner were still hanging to the flagpole. This was erected this year on the 4th of July when a party of citizens celebrated the anniversary of their country's birth (or independence) by a spirited "picnic" party.
    We saw several tracks of a large grizzly bear whose huge paw must have made the prints a few hours before.
    Onion Valley is said to be the highest point settled in the world--from the top of Pilot Peak we could see the Crater Mountain above Rich Bar on the Middle Fork of Feather River.
November 14, 1854
Fine.
From Nelson Ck. to American Valley Ranch 10 m.
    The mouth of Nelson Creek (Nelson Point) is one of the most romantic mining "towns" in the state--lying as it does just underneath the hill and as you descend from Onion Valley (about 10 miles from the latter place) it is not seen until within a few yards of it.
    This place is a mining point of considerable celebrity on account of the rich mining in its neighborhood and being a suitable point upon the main pack trail from Gibsonville to American Valley.
    At the election of Septr. there were 240 votes polled here but the number of inhabitants is very much regulated by the season for in summer it is about 600 and in the winter only 150. There are 8 families residing here and one marriageable lady.
    This place was first settled in 1850 and named after Mr. Nelson, the first miner who worked on this creek. The town is just at the junction of Nelson Creek with the Middle Fork of Feather River and is from Marysville 80 miles.
    The gold here is generally coarse and there is about 1000 ounces weekly taken out upon an average and including gold dust purchased at Henpeck City (about ¾ mile up the creek) 1,500 ounces. It pays and is worked up to the mouth of Hopkins Creek (about 7 miles above). Poorman's Creek empties into Hopkins Ck.
    From the mouth of Nelson to Rich Bar it is about 3½ miles--at the head of Rich Bar stands Crater Mountain. This crater at the top measures 8 feet in diameter--no bottom has yet been discovered although large rocks have been rolled down by one party while another has placed his ear to the opening (or top)--from the river bed to the top of the crater it is said to be over one mile of perpendicular height.
    From Nelson Point to the head of American Valley is 6 miles but it is 10 to American Ranch the county seat of Plumas Co. A.Valley lies about west of north of N. Pt.
    Leaving Nelson Point a slight hill is ascended and then one descends by a long ravine many hundreds of feet within the six miles of distance to American Valley. On reaching this valley I was pleased by the rapid and extensive improvements that have taken place within about a year--grist mills are erected--saw mills are building and everything denotes a bustling business--
    From the Illinois Ranch to American Ranch it is 4 miles--of valley.

November 15, 1854
Fine.
From American Ranch to Elizabethtown 2½ miles & back again.

November 16, 1854
Fine.
Left Mr. Russell's Ranch American Valley to Ward's Indian Valley 19 m.
    About ½ past 10 o'clock this morning we left Russell's Ranch A.V. myself E. Jump and Mr. J. J. Cooper--a volunteer who wished to accompany us to see Honey Lake Valley. We started in a little east of a northern course for Indian Valley and ascending for several miles--and occasionally descending we reached the ridge and about 2 miles to the west of us there is a lake just on the top--we soon descended towards Indian Valley--which is from American Valley about 11 miles from "American Ranch."
    The descent was more rapid to Indian Valley--but a good trail all the way--
    Indian Valley is a beautifully picturesque and fertile valley lying within about 15 miles from the top of the main ridge of the Sierra Nevada Mountains--like most of the valleys here it lies east and west in length--it is (including some arms) about 23 miles long by 6 miles wide in the widest place. It is surrounded by high and pine covered mountains although on its southern side the bold granite mountains over eleven hundred feet in height from the valley are nearly perpendicular and present a magnificent scene to the eye.
    We reached Mr. Taylor's ranch about 3 o'clock--here he showed us some very fine wheat he had raised--and we partook of some of the bread made of the flour with some very finely flavored fresh butter. We then crossed over the valley--here about 1½ miles wide--in a northern course and kept up the northern ride--passing three or four ranches in about 7 miles we reached Wards Ranch--
    Here we were kindly met and hospitably entertained by the judge and his family--and I can assure you, Judge, that I shall long remember the pleasant songs of home sung by your amiable daughter Mrs. Gates--and the genial flow of conversation enjoyed--I was again in imagination listening to the sweet and soothing melodies of a home left behind--for gold--now over 5½ years.
    My heart gratefully thanks thee Mrs. Gates and thy gentle & worthy husband for the tender chords struck within my heart by the dear old songs and the "light guitar" played in thy mountain home--to me comparatively a stranger. May heaven long and kindly smile on both the husband and the wife.
    Here we met with Major Bidwell of Bidwell's Ranch and the namesake and name giver of Bidwell's Bar--a gentleman about 38 or 40 years of age--of active habits and ruddy countenance--and a young lady--singular looking--named Blodgkins.

November 17, 1854
Fine.
From Ward's Ranch Indian Valley to Lassen's Meadows 15 miles north of west.
    This morning was spent in preparing our pistols and rifle--hunting up frying pan--coffee pot &c. and getting a stock of flour, bacon, sugar, coffee &c. duly packed ready for our dangerous trip to Honey Lake Valley by way of Lassen's Meadows.
    All "armed and equipped" (thanks to thee, Isadore), Jump, Cooper and myself and an Indian guide left Judge Ward's about noon and going in a course a little north of west towards Lassen's Meadows. Our Indian guide had received part payment before starting--and very reluctantly left the entrails and offal of an ox that had just been killed at the Judge's house--he kept all the time behind us (singular way of guiding us) and when about 2 or 3 miles away from the house he was missing--and we have not seen him since. He is called "The Doctor" and is brother of a fine old man the chief of this tribe (the ________). Being left without a guide we had either to return and obtain another (which might be as good as the last) or guide ourselves. The country around "Noble's Pass" we wanted to examine and as we were well armed (considering) and had plenty of ammunition for our stomachs as well as our shooting irons, for 6 or 7 days, we decided that our course was onward. From Judge Ward's our ascent for about 8 miles was so gradual that we could not tell which way the water run (except by looking at it). 4 of these miles were good valley land--then some very low hills or swells of land. The other 7 miles was descent also gradual and about ½ past 5 o'clock p.m. we reached the Lassen's Meadows--and seeing the smoke of an Indian encampment among the willows of the river we made towards them. We soon reached the eastern fork of Feather River and saw an Indian standing in his canoe. He asked me to get in. I directly did so and Cooper followed, while Jump with the horse went further down--Mr. Indian took us downstream about a third of a mile and crossed us to the opposite bank--then returned across for Jump--we swam the horse and he managed the cold swim finely. I gave the Indian a dollar and as it was nearly dark we turned across a timbered point on the North Fork of Feather River and camped--
    Now this is the first time of camping out for years. We looked for a large fallen tree against which to kindle a fire, and then collecting a good supply of dead timber to keep us warm through the night we mixed and fried our flapjacks & bacon and soon satisfied the stomach--we spread our blankets and beneath the sheltering branches of a lofty pine--through the branches of which the stars twinkled--we lay ourselves down to sleep--
November 18, 1854
Cloudy in morning--afternoon began to rain at 5 p.m. and continued to 12 night.
From the falls at Lassen's Meadows in a northerly course up valley 9 m.
    Nothing of any importance occurred last night--we slept well--except occasional "piling" up of wood to keep a good fire and the hootings of an owl--and the howlings of a wolf--joined with the "ky, hie, ky, hie" of some coyotes--near morning and as the Indians didn't scalp us--and the cold didn't keep us awake--we all had a good time and awoke well refreshed and after a good breakfast of "flapjacks" &c. we prepared ourselves for exploration. First took a view of "Lassen's Butte" from "Lassen's Meadows"--then a view of the falls of the East Fork of Feather River at the meadows.
    The falls as shown in the sketch are about 40 feet in one hundred & fifty yards. A large stream of water about fifty feet wide and from 4 to 10 feet deep sleeps and eddies along just above the falls--but booms over the falls with considerable force and volume.
    Lassen's Meadow looking towards the "Butte" is about 5 miles to the edge of the timber shown in the sketch.

Sunday, November 19, 1854
Cloudy in morning. Fine afterwards before noon.
From Lassen's Meadows in an easterly course to Mountain Meadows &c. 18 miles.

November 20, 1854
Fine.
From the extreme eastern arm of Mountain Meadows to Honey Lake Valley 15 m.

November 21, 1854
Cloudy.
Honey Lake Valley up towards the eastern end of lake 22 miles--and back 8 miles.

November 22, 1854
Cloudy snow & rain & snow--
Crossed the mountains in a southwesterly course 22 miles.

November 23, 1854
Cloudy--little rain
From Lost Camp to Ford's and thence to Ward's Indian Valley 21 miles.

November 24, 1854
Fine.
From Ward's to Taylor's Indian Valley & Judkins' American Valley 17 miles.

November 25, 1854
Fine.
From Judkins' Ranch American Valley to Elizabethtown & Meadow Valley 15 m.

Sunday, November 26, 1854
Fine.
Meadow Valley Ranch--Mr. W. S. Dean's.

November 27, 1854
Fine--few clouds.
From Meadow Valley to the Peavine Ranch 30 miles.

November 28, 1854
Fine--clouds.
From Peavine Ranch to Bidwell's Bar & Miner's Ranch 29 m.

November 29, 1854
Fine--cloudy evening.
From Miner's Ranch to Marysville 32 miles.

November 30, 1854
Cloudy.
Marysville.

December 1, 1854
Cloudy. Showers of rain in evening.
Marysville.

December 2, 1854
Cloudy.
Marysville.

Sunday, December 3, 1854
Cloudy and rain nearly all day.
Marysville.

December 4, 1854
Cloudy in morning. Fine afternoon.
Marysville.

December 5, 1854
Fine--but foggy in morning.
Marysville.

December 6, 1854
Fine--but foggy in morning.
Marysville.

December 7, 1854
Fine & foggy in morning.
Marysville.

December 8, 1854
Heavy fog & drizzling rain until 1 o'clock p.m. Fine after.
Marysville to Colusa--25 miles.
    We packed the duds in the wagon and crossing the bridge over Feather River at Yuba City--¾ miles from Marysville we struck across the Sacramento Valley, leaving the "Buttes" enveloped in fog on our right--beneath one broad avenue of trees--with here and there a house we journey for about 12 miles when broad before us with the distant belt of trees lay the Sacramento Valley--not a tree for many miles--and cattle grazing in the distance their outlines defined in places on the horizon.
    How beautifully diversified--with broad plains and timbered patches or wide strips is the Sac. River Valley.
    Hundreds of flocks of wild geese were passing every hour--and some hours after sunset the flocks of geese were quork-quork-ing their passage homeward.
    Yuba City is a well laid out but empty-housed place of but few inhabitants--although much larger three years ago than now. It was intended to be the commercial city of the Yuba and Feather rivers--but--it failed in that--for Marysville takes it.
    About 4 miles below Colusa we crossed the Sacramento by ferry--charge $1. The river here is about 100 yds. wide and 35 feet deep--an eddying rolling current.
    In Colusa men follow the business of wildfowl shooting. Colusa is the county town of Colusa Co. containing about ___inhabitants ___females ___marriageable ladies & children.
    The place is supported altogether from this being the head of steamboat navigation on the Sacramento River during low water--
    As teamsters frequently have to wait for freight they resort to card playing--and on that account there are an unusual number of gamblers and loafers here.

December 9, 1854
Heavy fog until noon. Fine afterwards.
Colusa to 16 Mile House--
    About 1 o'clock p.m. (we couldn't take a view for fog before that time) we left Colusa journeying on the banks of the beautiful Sacramento passing farm houses of a very small and inconvenient construction--yet built on some of the finest land in the country--here and there you see a small part of a quarter section fenced in--and the whole claim is one heavy farm of timber--with notices stuck up--"This Ranch for Sale."
    Teamsters on this road seem to camp out--whether with ox or mule teams--and cook their own food. The public houses are small and very poorly built. Every section of road in California differs from others but nearly every house upon any particular section is built like the next one--imitation is the cause.
    On some roads tavern keepers build a magnificent hotel--if they run partly in debt to do it--and their neighbors in the same line must build a large house also and if unable sell out to those who are able. The houses on the Colusa & Shasta road are very poor.
    Land in this valley brings from 45 to 51 bushels of wheat to the acre--good and plump.

Sunday, December 10, 1854
Light fog early & frost. Fine.
From 16 Mile House to Moundeville 20 m.
    Last night we were well cared for--getting fresh butter & fixin's and sitting with the family spent a very agreeable evening in general conversation--
    When wishing to retire I was shown to a fine feather bed on the other corner of the room--opposite to the one occupied by the landlord and his lady--between their bed and mine was one for the son about 10 years old and another for the daughter about 14 years old. I was taken aback--for it was the first time in all my traveling that I had had the honor of sleeping in the same room with two ladies--and that two without curtain or screen of any kind--moreover we continued the conversation sometimes afterwards--of course begun by the people--not I--after I was in bed.
    But the rustic simplicity and lack of civilized "airs" put on my sham modesty struck me as remarkably openhearted and unsuspecting honesty. Under other circumstances I might have prospected on the same plan as the hero of Coventry [i.e., Lady Godiva]--and went one eye on what could be seen--but as it was I thought no more about it than though I was in company with my sex only--except as a very singular circumstance.
    How beautifully calm and deep flows on the Rio Sacramento the most beautiful stream I have yet witnessed. Then to see the thousands of wild geese that float upon its placid surface or fly in numerous flocks (upon the same principle as the English King Harold fought his enemies--namely the wedge) there alighting in different companies at one spot as though about to hold a general council--as no doubt they do--whether if such cold mornings continue they ought to emigrate further south or--with the myriads of their fellows still linger on this noble river--
    Moundeville is one house--a large public house badly kept--is a place where freight and passengers for this valley are landed during the winter or high water months--
    This morning saw a splendid view of "Mount Shasta" covered with snow--and a little to the right was "Lassen's Buttes."

December 11, 1854
Fine--
From Moundeville to "Tom's Creek" 25 miles.
    I was glad to leave this morning a house so uncomfortable and table so poor and like past experiences the worse the table the higher the charge.
    Journeying on now at the banks of the Sacramento River--or now passing through groves of leafless oaks or taking across a stretch of valley without a tree--saw but one public house between Moundeville and Edwards' Ranch where we dined. The road up the valley becomes a little more broken by hollows or watercourses--one called Stone Creek is 4 miles from Moundeville upwards--today also there were some slight risings on the road scarcely worth calling hills--but gentler rises--
    At Reager's Ranch there are a number of Indians residing on the banks of the river within 300 yards of his residence. The tribes around here call themselves the "Mem-pon-ways" or water Indians--the language of each tribe is different although for 40 miles up the river the Indians belong to one particular tribe. The mountain Indians from the Coast Range frequently sally down upon the valley Indians--who being small in number place themselves under the protection of the whites and call themselves after the ranch belonging to the whites. These--shown in the sketch--call themselves "Reager's" Indians. The huts here are different from any other I have yet seen and are built of tules, leaves and brush and not only turn water very well but are very warm and comfortable.
    The Indians are diminishing in numbers rapidly--one-half at Reager's having died off within three years--there is not a child living under nine years of age. At the early settlement great numbers of young men who brought with them the diseases of the white man and they now have no more children in this tribe.
    Every Indian I have yet seen in the Sacramento Valley although they are taller and stouter--have not the pleasant looks of the mountain Indians--they seem to have a settled melancholy brooding upon them. I have not seen a laugh from one since I have been in this valley.

December 12, 1854
Fine.
From Tom's Creek Ranch to Tehama 3 m. and the Indian Reservation 25 m.
    There is but poor accommodation for man or beast at this point so cannot say anything in its favor.
    Tehama is three miles--good road--from Tom's Ck. and 60 miles from Colusa--but few houses in it. The stage stops here and crosses the river--took a view and started for the Indian reservation and traveling 25 miles in a due west course from Tehama on a good road and passing several ranches we reached it about an hour after dark. Took up an Indian who was tired out--he had been to Tehama & back (50 miles) for some dried mackerel and salmon--
    Capt. Ford--the gentleman in charge here--received us kindly having had a letter of introduction to him from his brother in law Mr. Malayer [Maciejer? Macaiyer?] Wilson. Took a walk round the Indian [reservation]--saw that they keep themselves warm by sitting round the fire in the open air in a group both men and women all entirely naked (for even the women remove the tule coverings worn in the daytime--to get a better warmth at the fire)--while some had "turned in" for the night and lay partly covered with a blanket and partly exposed to the fire. Some of the men women and children were romping and turning each other over in the greatest glee inside their huts and all in a state of nudity.
    Most of the "houses" or rather huts are made of sticks set on end and covered with tules or long wild-oat grass--
    These huts with the fires inside, having a hole--a large hole--in the top--shone brightly through the darkness as we journeyed over the recently plowed land to the reserve--for night overtook us before reaching the reserve.
    This Indian Reservation consists of about 10,000 acres & taking the reserve buildings as a center it occupies the whole of the land lying between "Tom's" and Cedar creeks--some of the land is fine although some of it looked clayey and heavy.
    There is now about 250 acres of land plowed for wheat--although not any work of any kind was attempted until the 27th of Septr. of this year 1854--there is one two-story house and another called the granary--with an office at the eastern end. There has been also about 6 low houses built which will each hold about 30 Indians--then there are about 120 Indian huts and all told there are about 800 Indians.
    These depend chiefly upon their own supplies as the agent gives but little except in return for labor expended to entice and encourage them to work. There is 60 oxen, 15 plows, several horses--10,000 bushels of wheat--besides blankets, boots and several articles of utility to be given as rewards for services rendered--yet the superintendent of this station Capt. Ford informed me that labor--houses tools grain &c. &c. &c. had cost under $20,000. There is a physician employed--also hunter and several mechanics--the Indians doing the plowing and other kinds of labor.
    This morning walked over to "Storms'" house--another branch of the reserve--situated about 3 miles from the other (or general one)--passed through several small valleys where the grass & wild oats were up to my middle--saw several Indians perfectly nude gathering some of the straw with which to cover their huts--there were also several women similarly engaged--these had a tule covering about their loins--and several children all dressed like "Pa" (viz--naked).
    Just after I had arrived I heard a "hoo-pah" "hoo-pah" and looking in the direction saw a number of Indians who having gone out in search of the cattle that had strayed some distance away during night--were just returning with them--they drove them into the corral and commenced putting on the yokes and when they were on--out they drove them with all the pride and system of a Pike County teamster firing his revolver (the whip) and with a loud "whoa haw" cracked their whips and were on the road to plow. I was pleased with the encouraging prospect that eventually to prevent extirpation by idleness & sickness they might be made to live by the plow rather than the stick or bow. They all seemed cheerful and happy although these have but recently been removed from their mountain home in Nevada Co.--

December 13, 1854
Fine--cold night & morning--warm midday.
From Indian Reservation to "Storms" House & back 6 miles.

December 14, 1854
Cold in morning--fine & warm.
From Indian Reserve to Tehama--25 miles.
    Having taken several views and sketches yesterday--this morning we started on our journey towards Tehama--
    The valley (the corner of which is shown in the sketch) we entered and traveled along it for 1½ miles then crossed over towards "Tom's Creek"--there are three or four houses on the road.
    We reached Mr. Warren's and dined--I cannot speak too plainly in commendation of the kindness and courtesy of this gentleman and his lady who not only hospitably entertained us with substantial comforts for the inner man but gave me a lucid description of the manners and customs of the Nomlaki Indians--some of which see on another page in Septr. [2, above].

December 15, 1854
Fine--warm in day--and warmer in evening.
From Tehama to Red Bluffs 14 miles & Prairie House 10 miles.
    Today the sameness of traveling has been changed by some rolling hills and apparently we are in the foothills of the Sacramento.
    Leaving Tehama in a mile & [a] half we reached Elder Creek and 10½ miles further we reached Red Bluffs Creek--three miles further we reached Red Bluffs.
    This is a town of larger proportions than any I have yet seen on the Sacramento River above Sac. City--and on account of its being the head of navigation on the Sacramento River it bids fair to be a substantial town--
    The road from the Red Bluffs to Prairie House is mostly up a long creek upon a good and gradual road for about 5 miles when it became a little more hilly until we descended towards the Prairie House--

December 16, 1854
Fine & warm--thermometer at 63 at noon.
From Prairie House to Shastas City 30 miles.
Sunday, December 17, 1854
Fine--with light clouds.
Shasta--
    This is a town of considerable importance not so much from the rich or extensive mining near it as from its being at the head of "wagon navigation." It is situated among the foothills at the head of the great Sacramento Valley and within about 3 miles of the town the Sacramento River issues from its mountain cañon and spreads in the valley below. It is __ miles north of Marysville and __ miles north of Sac. City. From this point all the mining camps northward or around are supplied with goods of all kinds--generally taken out on pack mules (see page [of] March 7th).
    This place first originated from Major Reading in the spring of 1849 having discovered gold and successfully employed a number of Indians & others to work here and was generally known as Reading's Springs--and Reading's Dry Diggings.
    In 1850 a meeting of citizens was held when it was changed & called Shasta. "Shasta" is supposed to be from the Russian word "Schatsa" signifying white or white mountain--
    Since that time the town has moved down the hillside a little and grown immensely--although it has been visited by that great destroyer of California towns--fire--once (June 14th, 1853) the whole business portion of the town was consumed to the value in property of ____dollars. Again Nov. 28th one-third of the town was burnt. From that time brick buildings were erected--the first one was built by Bull Baker & Co. and now there are 25 brick buildings. This town now contains the following--2 churches (1 Methodist & 1 Catholic)--Masonic lodge--1 school house--2 saw & 1 grist mills--(In the county there are 2 grist & 8 saw mills)--1 court house & jail--14 merchants stores--1 book store--6 hotels--3 restaurants--2 private boarding houses--8 clothing and dry goods stores--4 butcher's shops--6 blacksmiths--2 barbers--4 bakers--2 tailors--3 livery stables--2 drug stores--2 tin shops--2 cooper's shops--4 carpenter's shops--3 cigar stores--1 shoemaker's shop--1 gunsmith's shop--1 buckskin tailor's shop--1 paint shop--1 banking express and 1 express (Cram Rogers & Co.)--1 soda water manufactory--2 lager beer breweries--4 houses of ill fame--& 60 private dwellings--1 printing establishment and well conducted weekly paper (The Shasta Courier). Besides there are 8 lawyers--6 practicing physicians--2 dentists--about 800 white population (& 500 Chinamen)--95 ladies--10 of them marriageable. Note, Mr. Roman says he wishes that I were taking down names to supply them with marriageable women!! poor bachelors!--21 prostitutes. No women living with men not their husbands--3 grass widows--170 children in county.

December 18, 1854
Fine--little wind.
Shasta City.

December 19, 1854
Fine.
From Shasta City to Middletown 4½ miles.
    Towards evening I put my saddlebags on my horse and journeying in a southwest course for 4½ miles arrived at Middletown. This is quite a bustling & busy little town containing about 500 inhabitants within a circle of a quarter of a mile and there has been nearly 1,400 persons here, and would again if the rains--so long tarrying--should revisit us. There are 9 families--5 marriageable young ladies and 13 children--also 4 stores, 3 hotels--2 carpenter's shops--2 butchers--1 blacksmith's shop--1 shoemaker--1 bakery--1 bowling saloon--1 barber's shop--no school--no church--

December 20, 1854
Fine--cold in morning.
From Middletown to Horsetown 4½ miles.
    This morning upon a good wagon road went to Horsetown. This is a small town on Clear Creek 9 miles south of west from Shasta City. It is thus named from an old pioneer who coming in weary and finding but little accommodation said--"This is a one-horse town"--and his companions used that name whenever alluding to this town. Since a post office has been established it is called Horsetown.
    This place looks rather dull although there seems to be more general intelligence among its people. This town with Bricksville & Texas Springs included numbers about 650 persons. They polled 240 votes last Septr. election--
    There are 8 families, 2 marriageable ladies, 15 children, 1 post office, butcher, baker, 1 hotel (Spencer Hotel), 9 stores, 1 blacksmith, 2 doctors! 2 justices of the peace--no church--no school house--
    This evening there was a numerously attended miners' meeting--the purpose of it seemed to be about some water company from Georgetown, El Dorado Co. had offered to bring in water if a right of way could be obtained from a company which had taken it up and obtained a charter and held it for speculation, thus (it was represented) keeping away water from them, and the meeting was expected to express an opinion--and it did--"That any company which brings the water the speediest to these diggings shall have our best support!"
    What "sappys" miners generally seem--one couldn't speak and the other waited to be asked and the next one declined because he had nothing to say--and the chairman would explain the object of the meeting if he could find it out. The secretary had put up the notices and supported that someone or a friend of somebody else would certainly have been present to address the meeting--"nix cum rouse" [i.e., it was a "no go"]
    Miners everywhere wanting water--picks and shovels lie sleeping in the sun--and the strong arm hangs lazily down, the able body is wanting for some exercise--but all things are at a standstill--like a ship becalmed--or soldiers in peace--or a workshop full of men with nothing to do. This miner hunts the pockets of his old pantaloons to see if he can find a quarter dollar--others take to the cradle to live--but--say they--if we had water we could make our 6 or $8 per day.

December 21, 1854
Cloudy--wind east--cold in morning.
Horsetown to Bricksville 1 mile--Texas Springs 1½ m. to Middletown 2½ m.
    There are about 600 Chinamen in this vicinity of Horsetown and down a little way on Clear Creek--
    Saw at Texas Springs a large grizzly Mr. J. M. Hunter had killed a few miles distant--he gave me the skin of his head and one of his paws. He goes home across the plains--I agreed to see him again and talk over some arrangement to raise a small company for the purpose--and I might join him.
    Texas Springs--embraces a circle of over a mile of low hills--with cabins dotted about in numbers of places.
    Had money been "comestible" I should have taken a good sum today--but everybody is downhearted for want of rain--
    Bricksville is only a mile below Horsetown on Clear Ck. about 3 stores and two cabins--the balance Chinamen's and Indian huts. The Chinamen camp on the creek--the Indians near the stores (partly to get any odds and ends from the whites and partly as a protection from the Chinamen--the Indians being small in number and the Chinamen large)--

December 22, 1854
Cloudy--wind from northeast--
From Middletown to Shasta 4½ miles.

December 23, 1854
Cloudy--wind south.
Shasta.
    This past night has been as warm as a summer's night--the wind having turned round we may now get some rain--that "balm for every wound" the miner and merchant needs--
    Went to take a view of Lassen's Butte but found its lofty head enveloped in clouds--so with Mount Shasta.

Sunday, December 24, 1854
Cloudy.
Shasta.
    This morning went to church to hear the Rev. Shelton preach. Being too busy carpentering and papering the church--he couldn't prepare sermons for that day--so read us one from Mr. Wesley. Mr. Shelton has a distinct delivery--but in his manner there is a flippancy and harshness that grates upon the ear to anyone who gives out the bread of life. He may be a very good man but as the audience was only seven in number I should judge that he is not an acceptable preacher to this people--and by his style I should think that he would make a very good clerk for the sale of dry goods--
    Spent the afternoon thinking of the loved ones at home while sitting in sight of Mount Shasta and Lassen's Peak--wrote a letter there. How few are dear friends--but how their dear images nestle around one's heart.
    The peaceful solitude of a mountainside to me in this land is my church, and dear ones at home more the objects of my worship--I deeply regret to say than the "King of Kings"--that is, I think more of them, and oftener--indeed it seems my greatest comfort, and solace among worthy, dollar seeking strangers.
    Evening--I went again to church--heard a poor sermon Methodistically delivered--I wonder why they will pronounce "Lord" "Loard"--
    There were perhaps 30 persons present this evening out of a population of 1,500 persons--"What are they among so many"

December 25, 1854
Cloudy--rained 1½ hours this morning--
Shasta. Christmas day.
    Had a good--yes a splendid dinner for California or any other country--every variety of meats--fowl--vegetables, salads, pies, puddings &c. &c. &c. &c. &c. &c.--
    This evening went to the "Christmas tree" being an invited guest the same as all the company.
    This is a very pleasant way of spending an evening where people are well acquainted with each other. It is of German origin and this being the first time I had seen it I will describe it.
    The church including the windows was brilliantly illuminated--at one end was a large manzanita tree fastened to the floor & on this tree hung toys--jewelry, books, &c. &c.--the whole illuminated by wax tapers and a large camphene lamp in its lower branches--so that it was a tree of light. At the other end there were spread every dainty of cold meats, fruits, sweetmeats &c. &c.
    Around the sides were seated the children and their mammas except when engaged in a good frolic with each other on the floor--some promenaded--some in groups were talking--while all the youngsters--bless them and their youthful love of sport--were enjoying themselves in high glee.
    Then came eating the good things--oranges were dropped from juvenile hands too small to clasp it--sweetmeats were sown about--"kisses" were read from sugar plums--amid laughter and fun--then those who liked good things among the "old folks" took tea or coffee and what else they wished until satisfied. One poor fellow I should think could not have had anything to eat lately--he seemed noticed by everyone--he began with the first and did not leave off with the last--but was himself the last--now for some fun--his pockets are filled with cakes (by other hands), neat fruit, orange peel and any rubbish in the shape of small pieces of left meat &c. &c.--then papers got pinned to his coat--everyone (or nearly so) took delight in showing him that they appreciated a hog--even at a free party.
    Then all being over in eating--a young girl was chosen to distribute the presents--named and hanging upon the tree. A doll for this, a book for that--a ring for this lady, a silver bird pincushion for that; this gentleman had a letter--that a handkerchief--another (one exceeding good on a joke) a little apple-headed whistle, amid great laughter. All seemed to enjoy the whole arrangement--
    It appears that a committee of ladies is first chosen to make the arrangements and receive the presents of cakes, fruits, meats, toys, jewelry &c. &c. &c. &c. &c.--and they are not only well received by the gentlemen but receive from some quite valuable donations the donor invariably buying the right to name the donee.
   
December 26, 1854
Cloudy in morning. Cleared up--and clouded again later.
Shasta.
    This morning I and Mr. Jump--my artist--settled and he leaves in the morning for Sacramento City. He has been with me four and a half months. As I am nearly through with my views for my panorama I was anxious to save every dollar I could to devote to getting home and the painting of my panorama. I wish him well--may he steer clear of his old companions.
    His father is English--his mother French and now lives in "The Rue des Batailles Paris." Ned seems a thoughtless fellow--
    People are today returning from balls &c. given in the country--some thirty miles distant--look sleepy and dissipated.
    I copied the Guide by Noble's Gap to the Humboldt River, from the Shasta Courier. [Hutchings copied the guide onto the page later used for the March 7, 1855 entry.]

December 27, 1854
Fine with light clouds.
Shasta to Churntown 9 miles.
    This morning Jump took the 3 o'clock stage for Sac. City. I had one favor to ask of him--"to feel and act the man who had a home and friends to welcome him--and think upon that every time he was about to throw himself away."
    Last night people returned noisily and drunk to bed but little sleep or comfort in a California hotel.
    From Shasta I took the upper ferry on the Sacramento River from Shasta 3 miles. The river at this point is about 90 yds. wide and about 18 feet deep--below 100 yds. [sic] it is about 100 yds. wide and only 5 ft. deep on the riffle (rope is 387 feet to posts). This is the highest ferry on the Sac. River--below there are nine to Red Bluffs--including this and Red Bluffs ferries.
    From the ferry to Quartz Hill it is 3 miles--this place has a public house and a few cabins (I only saw 3).
    From Quartz Hill to "Buckeye" it is 1 mile. This is quite a little town--a number of families--perhaps the population is altogether here about 100.
    From Buckeye to Churntown it is 2 miles--
    Churntown is about the same size as Buckeye--it is thus named after a rock shaped like a churn. (So they say. I didn't see it.) I thought the town might have been built first, and on account of its resemblance in size to a churn was duly named accordingly.
    All of the people here (or nearly so) crossed the plains this present year and several are surprised that they have not made their pile yet--
    Everything is very dull for the want of water--any man there (even here, now) can with a cradle make $2 or $3 per day and to live (pay their board bill). They just work enough.
    The road is good--there being but a few low hills to cross--I see that most of the people here have an Indian or two to wait upon them as servants.
    I couldn't find a hotel at which to stay for the night--I at last stumbled upon a boarding house kept by an Irishman. There was a pile of beds in one end of a long shed upon the floor--and any quantity of fleas--for my bed is spread by the side of the fire upon the floor. Himself, wife and Indian occupy the other end of the building--while outside the pigs are holding a public meeting on the state of their stomachs and having resolved to be like Oliver Twist and ask for more they have come as a committee of the whole and besieged the door making a loud demonstration. The night is cold.

December 28, 1854
Fine--white frost--light clouds.
Churntown to Shasta 9 miles.
    Leaving Churntown I took down Churn Creek to Mankinsville 1½ miles below on the creek. Here I met with a family who gave me a guide book across the plains--a good one being very correct. Mrs. Parker I hope we shall meet again--I think you a good jolly Scotchwoman--
    This place (Mankinsville) has 1 boarding house and about 7 cabins (that I saw)--
    Below this on the same creek is Newtown ¾ mile from M. The people are poorer--worse dried up the diggings--than any place I have yet entered--they have all crossed the plains this year--
    The country here is the head of the Sacramento Valley and the little towns are situated among the low foothills of the Shasta Mountains.
    I see that nearly every family in these towns has a young Indian to wait upon them and they seem to take hold of things very well--just for their board--but few value money--except for food or gambling.

December 29, 1854
Cloudy.
Shasta to Tower's House--Yreka road 12 miles.
    This morning saw a number of pack trains just starting and also the busy scene of saddle mules preparing for the journey to Yreka 112 miles on Mule Creek.
    Starting at noon I was surprised to see a large party of Indians--over 300--just coming down the hill on their way to the Tehama Reserve--some in wagons accompanied with their baskets, children, bows and pups. The greater number being upon the fashionable procession generally called "Indian file." This had on some unmentionables--the other hadn't. Now one would carry his bow, and his mahala would carry the baskets and provisions and old clothes and the papoose. These Indians are a little better looking and stouter built than most--the women have fine limbs and "orful" sized milk "ornaments." No matter what people from the rudest of mankind to the most cultivated woman invariably has the modesty to cover her nakedness--and although the body from the waist upward was in the "love" style of dress--the balance to the knees (or nearly) was covered with tules. These Indians call themselves Wintoons--the Trinity Indians.
    I met several returning pack trains of mules from Yreka.
    When about 4 miles from Shasta--my horse took a notion to go off the road to where he saw a smoke and turning him away from it he threw off one part of his pack--then another--breaking this and scattering that--kicking and plunging until nothing remained but the saddle. I run to catch him and when I laid hold of his bridle he reared up on his hind legs and with his fore ones struck me with one foot on my jaw--and the other on my wrist--luckily my beard saved my chin and my coat my wrist so that beyond a severe bruise no harm was done. I caught him and jumping on him I paid him liberally for his "trouble." I gathered the fragments of my boxes and baggage and lashed them together with ropes and made him carry me in addition on top. As I think that his extra energies may as well be used in saving mine as being fooled away at my expense!!!

December 30, 1854
Cold in morning--clouding up for snow--I think--
From Tower's House to mouth of French Gulch 3 m. & back 3.
    This morning I followed up the main fork of Clear Creek to the mouth of French Gulch (3 miles)--just after leaving the Tower House I saw a large number of Chinamen as busy as bees mining underneath a bank--they use the cradle nearly exclusively. There is one good wide bottom (or flat) this far up (to French G.) which is partly ruined and will soon be more extensively so--as it pays very well and in this region they possess an advantage that others do not for they have plenty of water--all the year.
    There is quite a busy little town at the mouth of French Gulch containing 3 stores, 1 boarding house (the F.G. Hotel), 1 butcher's, 1 bakery. There are still a number of Frenchmen around after whom the gulch I presume was named--and they can speak English very well and seem to be like most of their countrymen very courteous and polite. And all around the little town are cabins--surrounded with evidences of mining industry.
    This evening I saw Mr. Roop of "Honey Lake Valley"--he very kindly informed me of several interesting items among others that the distance from Honey Lake to Pyramid Lake is 5 miles 7 chains as surveyed by the government surveyor on the railroad survey (preliminary). Mr. Roop has a good dwelling house there and returns in April to put in a crop of wheat and barley &c. He thinks he [will] make it his permanent home--
    The Black Butte he describes as rising abruptly to the height of 1,500 feet and as being one of the boldest and most beautiful scenes in North America. He very kindly promised to "cruise" round a week or two with me if I would go out there in the beginning of May next.
    Mr. Roop took 40 cwt. of provisions and stores from Shasta to Honey Lake Valley with two yoke of oxen on the Noble's Pass route.

Sunday, December 31, 1854
Snow & rain all day.
At the Tower House.
    Here I sit in a nice warm room looking upon the flakes of snow as in great rapidity they are falling--now it rains--now it snows--in the garden before me there are green peas growing--some in blossom--some just ripe.
    What country in the world offers such a contrast?
    Pack trains are returning from the mountains covered with snow--some are dripping with rain. The poor mules have a hard and daily task allotted them.
    I have spent the day in company with Mr. Tower and Mrs. Metcalf--both from New Bedford--being brother & sister--Mr. T. told me that he had been the subject of one occurrence--alas too common in California--that took away his wife by another man (Tracy--agent of Adams & Co.).
    It appears that she crossed the plains in 1852, kept house for Mr. Towers (she was from Iowa) she loved finery and untoward homage by gentlemen, wanted her husband to neglect business to take her out riding on fast and splendid horses--run out of a large amount of money--went away with her "gentleman." How often has this occurred in California. Women being scarce have much attention paid them by gentlemen--they begin to think themselves angels--ornament their heads with costly bonnets and their backs with 40 or 50 dollar mantillas--accept of presents of rings from gentlemen and eventually surrender all discretion--then comes a divorce.
    This is the last day in the year. How precious would be the moments spent if with those I love. This year begun and it ends with a sabbath--an occurrence that occurs not for the next fifty or more years. This has been a year of change. I have to enable me to pay my board at the end of the week--hired out at mining for $3.50 per day--yet one month afterwards I cleared over $1,000. Such is change in Cal.
January 1, 1855
Rain in morning.
From the "Tower House" to Mud Valley. 17 miles.
    The new year has introduced itself a friend to miners by raining until about ½ past 10 o'clock this morning--when as it did not rain or snow I started up the west fork of Clear Creek on the Weaverville trail. Five miles brought me to the forks of the creek, where the trail continued up the North Fork. Six miles from the Tower House is the "Tower Mountain House." Four miles further is the Upper Mountain House--both do not look very inviting for comfort, although when traveling upon a mountain trail the smoke from any house is a welcome sight. One-third of a mile further I reached the summit of the Trinity Mountains. Only one foot of snow, but as I looked towards the Sacramento Valley I perceived that the purple air and heavy clouds of immense size and blackness were rolling up the cañon. These indicated a hard snowstorm. I hastened onward as rapidly as I could, but it soon overtook me, and as one trouble seldom comes alone, night overtook me some distance from a house. But I made it--covered with snow--in less than an hour after dark.
    What a beautiful sight is a forest covered with snow. Every bough--every bush--laden with the heavy and white burden. Then the beautiful tint the evergreen pines when their spiral tops and feathery boughs are covered with snow.
    In coming up Clear Creek I crossed the stream on the trail about 18 or 20 times, the hillsides being steep and rocky. Although the trail is well worn and the footsteps of the mules have worn out the ascent and descent of the worst places to a kind of staircase, it is with difficulty an animal can keep his footing.

January 2, 1855
Fine in morning, clouds low in distance. Snow all the afternoon.
From Mud Valley to Weaverville, 10 miles.
    As every prospect of a fine day opened with the morning, I went down to the Trinity River over by Lewis' Bridge about 1½ mile below which a company of men are building a bridge across the Trinity River to take water over to the opposite side, where there are said to be good diggings.
    This is a considerable stream. I tried to ford it on the rapids but finding my horse stumble I, like Jack Falstaff, considered discretion the better part of valor and returned. I should think the water is about 2 feet deep upon the average on the ford or rapids and about 100 feet wide.
    After dinner at Mud Valley I started to Weaverville.
    What could be the meaning of so many horses strewn along the road and in some places not half a mile apart? Here stood a couple of men trying to warm themselves by a fire built for shelter beneath a pine tree, for it snowed hard again. By them stood a couple of saddled horses, there another couple and two more horses, and a fine snow keeps deepening fast. "What's up today?" was my natural enquiry, and I was answered by another question, "Have you seen anything of the express?" "No." "Well, we are having a race today. Rhodes & Lusk are racing with Cram, Rogers & Co." This solved the difficulty.
    Down this hill, up that, this covered with ice. My horse unavoidably became religious and was several times upon his knees. I walked, yet found myself measuring my length upon the snow, no sooner up than my horse was down. What a road for expressmen to ride a race, thought I. Snow came faster and faster. Night overtook me 4 miles from Weaverville. Now on the trail (snow had covered it up), now off it. Now I, being off the trail, hailed a cabin where a cheerful light followed the smoke through the chimney. "Cabin ahoy!" "What's the matter?" "A man lost." "I'll find you the road." A half mile and it was found. There was a Chinaman lost, and, when he saw me trudging through the snow, inquired the way. I told him to follow me, for I was upon the trail. He pointed to another Chinaman lost in the woods. Now in came the expressmen full of life, riding past--but they had the horses only. They had given up the expressman coming and had grown tired of waiting--mud, snow and cold. I found the way in easily afterwards, for I hastened before the snow should cover up their tracks and about ½ after 7 p.m. I reached Weaverville--cold, self & horse covered with several inches of snow.

January 3, 1855
Snowed & rained all last night. Held up for 6 hours and continued [in] the morning.
Weaverville, Trinity County.
    Last night on my arrival here went to the Independent Hotel, the best in town--good meals--nine "bunks" in a room 12x10. Saw lice in the bed--no alternative, turned in between blankets. Woke in the night by a Frenchman underneath my bunk with "Your bunk is breaking at the side--you'll soon be through." I replied, "Let her break--I don't care if you don't!!" "Yes, sure, but you fall top of me." "Well, I can stand it if you can!!" "Yes, sure, but me no care you fall on me." "Well, when you see me coming through, you just roll out of the way--I shall want a bed if this breaks through--certain!!!" "Well, well, sacre damme that is cool--I no give you my bed." "All right, then, when I get down to your bunk I shall be halfway towards the floor, and if you decline giving me yours, why, when this breaks I must get another--please to wake me up again when I do fall through." "Well--sacre damme that is cool." But it didn't break. This morning there was considerable mirth from snow balling. Roofs had "collapsed their flues." Chimneys had broken down and shush-slush went your feet at every step. Sleighs are used for hauling wood &c. in place of wagons that could not move.
    Cram, Rogers & Co.'s express in connection with Adams & Co.'s arrived in Weaverville at 20 minutes to 12 o'clock last night, having started from Marysville at 15 minutes to 10 o'clock a.m.--arrived in Tehama (a distance of about 93 miles) at 2 o'clock p.m. (90 miles in less than 4 hours) and from Tehama by Shasta to Weaverville 92 miles more over mountains, some with 3 ft. of snow upon them in 9 hours and 40 minutes while the weather was snowing--freezing and blowing. Yet accomplishing the 185 miles in within 14 hours. It cost the winners in horses and other expenses over $1,000--and probably the losers more, although no wager was made. Expressmen are some of the most useful of men in Cal., for neither weather, time nor money is a consideration, and with scrupulous exactness they bear the tidings from the cities below to the far inland and mountain districts.
    When the expressman (Mr. ______) arrived he was a lump of cold humanity and had to be lifted from his mule and rubbed by a hot fire for 1½ hours before he could move any other members than his tongue.

January 4, 1855
Snowed last night about 6 inches and snows at times all day.
Weaverville.
    House-bound, yet by the kindness of Mr. Norcross I have a comfortable room (that which I could not get at an hotel) and can look out upon the snowy scene with considerable satisfaction.
    Weaverville is the county seat of Trinity County, situated about 6 miles from Trinity River on Weaver Creek. It was settled early in the spring of 1850 and named from the discoverer of the diggings--Mr. Weaver.
    Within the township (which is large) there are about 1,300 inhabitants, although in the town there is not more than 800 persons, among whom there are 53 families, 40 children--and one marriageable lady (the only one in the county). This town contains the following
    22 stores--2 banking and express houses--one is Rhodes & Co.'s under the superintendence of Mr. Blake--the other is Cram, Rogers & Co.--in connection with Adams & Co. under the superintendence of Mr. Henderson--late Mr. Roan--2 drug stores--6 saloons--3 bakeries--1 post office--4 meat markets--3 blacksmith shops--6 hotels. Principal ones are the Independence, Austin House and St. Charles--4 restaurants--3 carpenters--1 shoemaker's--3 livery stables and corrals--7 lawyers--4 physicians--and a large number of gamblers. 1 daguerrean saloon (Mr. Norcross)--2 watch makers--Belcher & Stanmore keep the Independence Hotel, Weaverville.

January 5, 1855
Cloudy until 3 o'clock p.m., when it became fine & froze.
Weaverville.
    To the left of Sydney Town is a shaft 630 feet in depth sunk by a miner named Sykes--it is generally called "Sykes' Hole." He had been busily engaged on it for over two years and [a] half--Mr. Foulke of Baltimore, Maryland and Abram Sykes of Tippin, Ohio were in company in sinking it. Mr. F. worked in it 604 days. It took 6 hands 700 days each to sink it--or 4,200 days labor--and paid nothing.
    This is the deepest shaft known in California.

January 6, 1855
Cloudy in morning, fine in afternoon--froze in shade.
Weaverville.
    From the Shasta Courier of July 22nd, 1854:
Friend Courier,
    We told you in our last communication that the Chinese were preparing for a general fight. The cause for such preparations is the same here as in other parts of the state, a sectional hatred and clannish difference brought from their native land; from day to day these differences have increased, although numerous attempts have been made by their leaders and Americans to settle them, but all endeavors were in vain. Patience with them ceased to be a virtue on Saturday last (July 15th), when they met to fight out "their pent-up wrath"--and a bloody fight it was.
    The parties met in all of their accustomed modes of warfare; their banners, shields, lances and helmets, the same as used in their wars at home. On Saturday morning both parties were out skirmishing and drilling; they were designated by the "small party" and the "large party"; the former consisting of one hundred and forty men, the latter of about four hundred. At about 3 o'clock in the afternoon, the small party charged upon the other--the conflict was short, but destructive; the small party were victorious, killing eight of the large party and driving them from the ground and capturing their flag as a trophy of war; the small party had two men killed. Some ten or twelve on both sides were severely wounded. One white man, who was interfering with the fight by discharging his pistol at one of the parties, was shot dead by some spectator, of which there were about one thousand.
    All day the greatest excitement prevailed throughout town; some were for, others were against their fighting. Our sheriff done all in his power to stop the difficulty, up to the very latest hour, but he could accomplish nothing--fight they would and fight they did. But their differences are in no better condition now than they were before. Neither dare go to work; one is afraid of the other. Consequently both are idle. So matters stand at present.
    On Sunday the large party collected their dead together and burnt them, in the same manner as do the Indians of this country, and then buried their ashes. The small party buried theirs with all the imposing ceremonies of war. They all turned out in funeral procession and followed the bodies to their graves, accompanied with music, as white men would.
    The white man killed was also buried the same day. It was a day of funerals. Long will it be remembered by the people of this town.
    Signed--Adobe. (Mr. Rowe, now Assemblyman for Trinity Co.)

Sunday, January 7, 1855
Cloudy and very dull and cold.
Weaverville.
    Church held in the court house by the Methodists and in the Catholic Church adjoining (of course by the Catholics)--the latter was by far the best attended.

January 8, 1855
Dewy & cloudy and fine rain in the morning--snow & rain evening.
Weaverville.
    Today [has] been wet, sloppy, dull and supremely miserable as any day need wish to be. Too wet to work, too cold to be idle, and too dull to talk--except about the weather, a theme always open for introducing oneself or one's conversation to any gentleman who--shut up within himself--shuts out the largest share of the warmth from the stove who immediately takes the hint and gives you a chance to warm the body at the stove. But you can't do the same with the mind by conversation. Everybody--meaning oneself--is dull, mopish, sulkish and selfish. While big clouds roll down the mountains, curling among pine trees, block up the whole valley--and "mizzle."
    Today received maps and sheets from Barber & Baker, Sacramento City--found fault with the map (as who wouldn't on such a day), but there are numberless mistakes and inaccuracies in it for a new map. Having traveled nearly all over the state I have seen most of the places named.

January 9, 1855
Foggy & cloudy--small rain at times.
Weaverville.

January 10, 1855
Very dull & cloudy. Thawing.
Weaverville.
    This afternoon visited the prison of Trinity Co. (no prisoners), over which there is a room in which is stored several hundred weapons taken from the Chinamen after their great battle on "Five Cent Gulch" near Weaverville June 1854. There are two-handed swords; the blade about 3 ft. 6" long and the handle about four feet long. There are three pronged forks--about 10 ft. long and about 14 or 15 inches across the tines--hand swords, dirks, lances, shields, all of a rude description--see drawings (the shields were covered over with tin or sheet iron and from 2 ft. to 2 ft. 9" long and 20 to 24 inches wide).
    This battle took several weeks' preparation and one blacksmith cleared (it is said!) over $1,500 in making the weapons.
    The two contending parties (one about 125 Chinamen, the other about 450) met just out of Weaverville, and one party occupied one, the other the opposite side of the gulch and about 100 yards apart. When arranged in battle array they taunted each other with cutting sarcasms and one party invited the other to come down to them, the other to come up to us. The large party chose out a detachment of about 90 and sent them down to dare the others to a fight.
    Large numbers of Americans went to see the battle, and a large majority were with the smaller party of 125, that is, in feeling. This party began the fight by one man advancing with sword and shield and setting about him right and left--but, poor fellow, he was hooked in and speared by the detachment of the large party, when the 124 remaining rushed in with a bold charge and put the other to flight--and as the Americans interfered when the main body of the large party were about to charge they sought safety in flight, but not before 11 Chinamen on both sides were killed. One American fired a revolver several times among the Chinamen, and someone behind shot him through the head and he was dead in a moment.
    Had the parties been more equally divided it is thought that the sympathies of Americans with the Chinamen of either party would have been the cause of a fearful battle among the Americans--as it was, over 40 shots were fired and some wounded, but none killed (except the one named).

January 11, 1855
Foggy until 2 p.m.
From Weaverville to Bates', on Stewart's Fork of the Trinity River.
    This morning about ½ past 9 o'clock I saddled up with the intention of making my way to the Yreka & Shasta trail on my way to the former place. A very heavy fog (like small drizzly rain) made it so thick that one could not see more than a few yards in any direction. I started--this man knew the trail, the other didn't. Went a short distance and came to where several trails met. Now which was the right one? Waited for a few minutes; a man came along--enquired the right trail to Yreka. "No sabe" was the answer--another came along and I put the same question. "Non parlez vous anglaise" was a second reply. Third enquiry--"I don't know" was the answer-- "nor couldn't tell anyone that did know"--"didn't believe the trail was broken anyhow after the snow fell." Question 4th "Oh, yes, good trail--keep straight on, then take the first right hand trail--keep up the flat--see wagon tracks--follow them (so I did, but in the opposite direction to what I should) then you take the left hand trail--which brings you to the forks of two other trails--you take the left hand one, and--and--before you get far--if you ain't lost I'll be d----d." Clear and comforting to a stranger.
    At length I took one--went about a mile--enquired--"Oh, bless you, it's the opposite direction"--took it--got on three other trails, all wrong--here I came to a log across a stream. Horse don't walk logs--go round towards a lower bank, snow up to the knees--deep, this ditch. Pass round these diggings and--yes--at last I get upon the right trail--on--on--snow from twenty inches to four feet deep--now slip on one side [of] the trail--now on t'other--trail poorly broken--horse gets down, up again--down again--and so it continues for fifteen weary miles without a house to warm your feet. Your body is warm enough, but your feet you can't tell anything about--believe you had feet when you started--haven't felt them since--now about sundown reach Montgomery's Ranch--ask for brandy--bad whisky is the only liquor kept--where bad liquor is kept, an invariable sign of bad accommodations every way--and although I am worn out and excessively weary--still drive my horse on before me for 2½ miles and reach "Bates'" ranch--
    Here before a good log fire--in a brave, old-fashioned fireplace I warm the outer and attend to the calls of the hungry inner man (for I have had nothing since morning).

January 12, 1855
Foggy in morning, blew through most of night.
From "Bates'" ranch to Chadbourne's Ranch 18 miles.
    Moist and soft, the trail was better than yesterday and had the appearance of being better broken by being more traveled--not so--after leaving the valley around Bates' the trail was not much improved from yesterday's experiences--went on--at one o'clock reached a cabin--had nothing to eat--nothing to drink. A mile further came to another cabin--one man outside in the snow chopping wood, a camp of Indians near. Seeing me stop at his door he came--told him my wants--"All right, such as I have &c." was his reply--in ten minutes he had some cold potatoes peeled--tea water boiling and bacon frying--gave horse some hay--had a good, hearty dinner--what's to pay--the invariable inquiry--"Nothing--you are heartily welcome" was the spontaneous answer--and so it is with the miner--he is frank, hospitable and generous to a fault. This man had his little cabin "away in the woods," lived by himself. Oh, no, by the bye, that's not right! For he had a young Indian squaw, one of the party of Indians near, who, as he observed, was "kind of company" in the day time--and kept him warm nights--had few wants--never expected to be able to go home again--had got used to his present mode of living--"mined" a little, "farmed" a little and did the best he could and cared for nobody. He said there were 8 men not many miles away from each other who had a good Indian woman to live with and were very comfortable!!!
    I jogged along (after, of course, making a present of letter-sheets and envelopes) and had a hard time getting along, for as night overtook me at the Norwegian Ranch (no one living there) and hard frost having begun the trail, but poorly broken at the best, was now very slippery, and I was two hours making three miles--now down, now up--now backward, now forward--crossed a branch of the Trinity River.
    Some cattle having passed over a part of the trail and spread out in several directions in the dark, I took the wrong trail--was soon in 2 ft. 6" of snow--couldn't get along--found a trail afterwards--reached Chadbourne's. Here found a number of miners who have been in California for 4 or 5 years, are flat broke--have good claims as soon as snow will enable them to work them. If they had much push--with plenty of water (as there is) they would soon shovel off the snow and go to work.

January 13, 1855
A few light clouds only. Fine--cold in evening.
From Chadbourne's to Thompson's, 16 miles.
    This morning about ½ mile from Chadbourne's had to cross by fording the main Trinity River--about 40 yds. wide, 16 or 18 inches deep--a mile further on crossed--2½ miles further had to ford  again--and, three-quarters of a mile further had to reford it again. This last fording is rather dangerous--for the current being strong and narrow, and the water deeper--and, moreover, the rocks or boulders in the bottom being large and smooth, I felt the water running into my boots and my horse scarcely able to withstand the current. I found him slipping and had I not instantly given him the spur I believe I should have had a cold bath. If I hadn't [we would] have flushed downstream. The spur made him literally leap over the rock on which he was slipping and--we reached the bank in safety. In any place of danger, upon any horse, I would never ride without a spur.
    How beautifully white are the mountains covered with the snow on either side dotted over with pines--evergreen--in places the bold and rocky mountaintops tower to the height of from 12 to 15,000 feet above one's head--with here and there a clump of pines--and at small intervals between a few stunted ones growing from a seam in the cliffs.
    The frozen breath of morning had silvered leaf and tree, and as the sun broke forth it was a pleasant sight. I saw one solitary bird whose little throat poured forth a song of gladness for the few stray sunbeams that found their way upon the frozen face of nature and that poor thing seemed to rejoice in the prospect of the springtime coming; how like (thought I) to the hope of home that springtime of the heart when seated round the dear old, old hearth we see the sunlight of a smile from the pleasant countenances of those we love--so long to us Californians postponed--will it ever come? I often ask myself--and silence, deep and sorrowful, is the only--"Yes, it may" that in hope escapes these stony lips of Time.
    I reached Thompson's early--by 4 o'clock--and as it would take me until midnight to get to the next house I here "cast anchor" for the night.
January 18, 1855
Cloudy. 11 miles.
From Mountain House, Scott Valley, to Scotts Bar on Scott River.
    Leaving the Mountain House, I ascended the mountain by a tolerably good trail--but the descent towards the river and the bar is long, steep and in many places slippy from so much of the melting snow having frozen in the trail. It is called 7 miles from the Mountain House to the river. Forded the stream--full of large pebbles and is difficult. The other 4 miles to the bar I thought rougher than the hill. Coming down the mountain there is a fine view of the hills beyond the river. I reached the bar about ½ past 1 o'clock p.m. and was rather surprised to find it so small and "wooden" a place. There is no hotel in the place--you get beds here and meals at the restaurant. Several gambling saloons.
    The Scott River here is remarkable for its richness. During the summer of 1854 there was as high as $6,351 taken out of the Jackass company's claim in one day--and that only a portion of the Scotts Bar company's claim.
    "While Capt. Lamerick's company were stationed at Bates', on Grave Creek, to keep the trail clear and guard the pack trains that were hurrying supplies to the forces of Table Rock, an incident took place too good to lose.
    "The night was extremely dark, and a strong guard was placed round the house in order to protect a large amount of supplies of groceries, liquors &c. that were stacked immediately near the house. A Mr. D_____, who was not very comfortably situated to sleep, from the fact that the night was very cold and he had only one blanket to go to bed to, knew that there was some good old rum piled up just across the road and thought if he could only secure a bottle he could make sufficient spiritual heat to make up for the deficiency of blankets.
    "He knew the risk he would incur, but determined to run all chances. He started off cautiously, with a big black bottle, and succeeded in passing the night key.
    "On his return the guard hailed him with 'Who goes there?' 'Friend,' replied D_____. 'Advance, friend, and give the countersign,' cried the guard in a fierce and firm tone. D_____'s great presence of mind suggested to him at this moment of critical silence the dangerous predicament he was placed in. 'Advance, friend, and give the countersign,' again cried the guard, in a trembling and confused tone of voice, as he raised his rifle to a present-fire.
    "D_____, unwilling to run any further risks of his 'har' [hair], advanced a couple of steps towards the guard and spoke in a low, but pleasing undertone, 'Rum.' 'Pass on, friend--pass this way--all right.'
    "Can't imagine for a moment that the guard took a drink."

January 19, 1855
Cloudy. Rain & snow. Rained about ½ an hour last night. 11 miles.
From Scotts Bar to French, Lytle and Johnson bars--and back to Patterson's House.
    Today has been showery--afternoon settled in for rain. Scotts Bar is about 5 miles from the mouth of Scotts River where it enters the Klamath--about a ¼ of a mile below Scotts Bar is French Bar, a place that bids fair to be a rival to Scotts Bar.
    Diggings were first discovered on Scotts Bar July 1850. It was no uncommon thing on Scotts Bar during this summer (1854) to see from 6 to 10  lbs. [sic] of gold taken out to one pan of dirt.
    A continuous loss of animals and goods on the part of the settlers in this county determined the citizens to send out a party of men on Wednesday the 20th of July 1853 for recovering the property stolen. They struck the trail of stolen animals near Milletts' Ranch in Shasta Valley and following it in a southeasterly direction between "Sheep Rock" and "Shasta Butte" to a small, pretty valley they named "Elk Valley." They then traveled through timber and brush for about 10 or 12 miles when they struck a large and beautiful valley about 30 miles in length by 7 in width--with a river supposed to [be] "McCloud's" or "Pitt's" running through it.
    Traveling down this valley about 12 miles in the evening they came in sight of the Indian camp. They found the Indians employing themselves in testing the relative speed of the animals stolen. The whites remained in sight of the Indians unobserved by the latter until dark. Five of the whites then reconnoitered the Indian camp. They then removed their camp to within a quarter of a mile of the Indians, and here secreted themselves until daybreak, when they prepared for battle. Armed with "Colt's" large-sized revolvers and rifles, they posted themselves unobserved by the Indians, and a volley of rifle balls took down a number of the Indians when the whites rushed in with their revolvers and out of 28 or 20 Indians but 5 escaped. The animals were retaken, but only 4 remained unkilled by the Indians for food.
    These animals were stolen from a ranch in Shasta Valley. Packers on the Sacramento route have been plundered--sometimes of their whole trains and cargoes. Eleven men started in this party.
    About July 20th, 1853, two white men were killed by the "Rogue River Indians" about 4 miles south of "The Kanyon." The Indians attacked the house, shot the men, then set fire to the house, leaving the dead bodies to be burned in the flames. They also destroyed Mr. Evans' trading post and wounded Mr. E.
    These depredations, with others that had been previously committed, aroused the citizens who began to rally for punishing the Indians and if possible exterminate the Sauwash [Siwash--Chinook for "Indian"] tribe. Large gatherings of men took place at Jacksonville O.T. [and] Yreka when resolutions were passed calling upon all men to come to the work of extermination. This was soon responded to. Meanwhile, white men were shot down from behind trees--haystacks were burned by the Indians. The Yreka Herald extra of Aug. 7th, 1853 has the following--
    "Business in the valley has ceased. The miners and farmers are collecting together at different points in the valley for protection. It is believed beyond a doubt that the Rogue River, Cow Creek, Grave Creek, Applegate Creek, Umpqua, Shasta and Klamath Indians--and probably the Pitt Rivers and also the Indians about the Klamath and other lakes--have united and declared an open and general war against the whites. We are indebted for the above information to Mr. Ish and Mr. Davis, who arrived here this morning. They bring a petition to the officer in command at Fort Jones in Scott Valley, signed by a majority of the most respectable citizens of Rogue River Valley for such aid either in troops or arms as can be procured. We understand that there are but few troops at the fort but what they will be able to furnish arms and ammunition.
    "As our informants were coming up the valley they were informed that a battle had just come off near the Mountain House [apparently Cole's Mountain House]. Five or 6 Indians were killed. Mr. Carter had his arm fractured by a rifle ball and received an arrow wound in the shoulder.
   "Now that general Indian hostilities have commenced we hope that the government will render such aid as will enable the citizens of the north to carry on a war of extermination until the last redskin of these tribes has been killed. Extermination is no longer even a question of time--the time has already arrived. The work has been commenced, and let the first man that says treaty or peace be regarded as a traitor to his country and a coward."
    Aug. 9th. Mr. Wilson brings the following petition from Fort Wagner--The citizens of Rogue River Valley ask the citizens of Yreka in the name of humanity to assist in subjugating the Indians of this valley who are daily and nightly murdering our citizens and killing our stock.

January 20, 1855
From Patterson's to Deadwood, 12 miles.

Sunday, January 21, 1855
Cold. Damp and cloudy.
From Deadwood Gulch by Greenhorn Gulch to Yreka, 9 miles.

January 22, 1855