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Explorations in the Upper Columbia Country....Samuel Rodman, Jr.

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THE

OVERLAND MONTHLY.

DEVOTED TO

THE DEVELOPMENT OF THE COUNTRY.

VOL. VII. (SECOND SERIES.)-JANUARY, 1886.-No. 37.

GOLDEN GRAVES.

You have often asked me to tell you about my Christmas in the mines. I fear that in looking forward to my story you are anticipating something very different from its reality. Christmas has always been so pleasantly associated with mirth and revelry, with dancing and feasting, with the interchange of gifts and the formation of friendships, with the burial of deeply-cherished animosities, and the return of long-lost loved ones, that it becomes hard to believe there can be any corner of the world in which the day brings only trial and suffering. Even in the mines of California it would seem as though there must be festive gatherings in the place of labor, and an interchange of stories about the dear ones at home, and much jovial drinking of their healths; and that, for the day at least, all sickness, and weariness, and poverty, and hardship must either be absent, or, through some heroic exercise of the will, be disregarded. But that was not in my experience at the Lowber Bar.

The disturbances into which his professional vocation threw us were many; and when, at last, his resort to the pistol, in a quarrel over the faro-board, put him into the power of the law, the deed was accepted almost with acclamation, as furnishing a welcome opportunity to rid ourselves of an unpleasing element. I think that scarcely an hour had elapsed before Mark Sintley was in custody, a judge elected, and a jury formed; for legal proceedings, when necessary, seldom suffered much delay in those stirring times of 1849. As I gazed at the prisoner, sitting upon a camp-stool in front of the jury, I could not resist a sentiment of regret as for a choice piece of nature unappropriately assigned.

He was such a handsome fellow-not much over thirty-five years of age, tall and shapely, with dark, curling hair, bright eyes, and something in his expression that indi. cated a faculty of unusual fascination whenever he was disposed to exert it; having withal a not unpleasing dare-devil look, which The story properly begins in the early part now had full delineation as he sat smoking of the preceding fall, and with the trial of his cigar, with his head thrown back in a not Mark Sintley, the gambler. He had appeared altogether unsuccessful affectation of unconat Lowber Bar about a month before, and cern, though from the very first he must from the first had been considered by most have known full well that his case was hopeof the miners a very undesirable acquisition. less. But I felt regretfully how gallantly, VOL. VII.-I. (Copyright, 1886, by Overland MONTHLY CO. All Rights Reserved.)

had he been born with station and family honors to uphold, he might have sat his steed and thundered down upon an enemy's battery of guns; and it seemed the work of a cruel and perverted fate that such a glorious destiny had failed him, and that, instead, he had grown up a mere social waif and Scourge.

In all that little crowd there was only one person who tried to intercede for him. This was a young fellow of fourteen or fifteen years, bright-eyed and smooth-faced, whom Mark had brought into the camp as his sole companion. Some thought that the boy was his son or younger brother-certainly he did not appear in any way to be a hired assistant in the gambler's business, for he had never been seen near the card-board, and generally kept studiously out of sight. At times he might have been noticed peeping cautiously out at the tent door, and more rarely met in the early dusk, strolling about the camp, but never very far away. Now the emergency of the great question of life or death had tempted him from his seclusion, and he clung frantically to the doomed man's side, piteously gazing around the crowd for mercy. It was an affecting sight, and I saw tears glistening in the eyes of two or three of the miners; but of course, all thought of pity must be vain, for Mark Sintley's offense had been too rank for forgiveness. So, mutely pleading, the boy remained until the verdict was pronounced; at which, with a struggle, he seemed about to break away, as though to throw himself forward at the judge's feet. But Mark restrained him. "It's no use, Charley," he said. "You see that it must go on. Judge Conley!"

"Well?"

over.

"I want you to see to Charley after this is You must know very well that he has no part in any thing that has happened, and should not be punished for my misdoings. As to my past life, he could not help it. Will you assist him from here when he wants to go?"

"We will do that, Mark. mind easy."

"Right.

Make your

that is in it. There isn't much, but it may help him to get home. When he wants to go, perhaps he will tell you who he is That is for him to say.—And now, Charley

Trembling and sobbing, the boy crept still closer to his companion, who put him upor one knee and drew an arm about him, and for a few minutes whispered in his ear, ap parently trying to comfort him, as well as to give directions for the future. Gradually, Charley, under the other's magnetic influ ence, and perhaps from having been already somewhat exhausted by his emotions, ceased from sobbing and sat motionless, with his head upon Mark's shoulder. Then Mark kissed him upon both cheeks, and arose.

"You can take him away now," he said. "I don't suppose you care about having him wait here to see it."

With that two of the miners lifted the poor boy in their arms, and gently carried him off to his own tent, there placed him tenderly inside, and closing the front, stood on guard, as it were, to prevent any chance of his looking out. Meanwhile a rope was run over the lower bough of a red cedar tree, and one of the ends fitted snugly around the gambler's neck. Not seeming especially to regard what was being done, he lighted a fresh cigar, carefully selecting it from a number that stuck out of his vest pocket, puffed it into active service without betraying any especial nervousness, and, in fact, in the judgment of all present, exhibited a masterly faculty of self-control.

It was all over in a very little while. While it was being done, a few of the miners looked steadily forward, some of them composedly, but others with blanched cheeks. Many turned aside or gazed fixedly upon the ground until they knew by the rustle of the little concourse that the thing was at an end. Others strayed off to a distance, nor again turned their heads; a great many had already slipped away, and now only looked back furtively from afar.

But there were enough left to carry out the judgment of the court, and speedily. It

I leave him my tent and all was all so quickly done, in fact, that for a

moment I felt dazed, and unable exactly to comprehend it. In less than half an hour all that remained of Mark Sintley was a something that lay on the ground beneath a weather-stained sail-cloth. Could it be that this motionless form was the gallant looking fellow, who, if the Fates had conducted things aright, should have been a dashing life-guardsman? It was indeed very difficult to realize it, especially as the little crowd that had given background to the late picture had now nearly all dispersed, and there remained, besides myself, only the Judge and perhaps half a dozen miners, who did nothing but stand and gaze, as though under the spell of some fascination that rendered it impossible for them to tear themselves away.

"He must be buried somewhere," said the Judge in a low tone. "No use waiting, of course. Michigan"—this was my name in the mines-" will you attend to it? You were not on the jury, nor took a hand at the rope. It seems as though every one should have some part in the "

"May I help find a place for him to lie in?" spoke a low voice at our elbow. It was Charley's voice. With the close of the execution, the young fellow had been released from any surveillance at the tent, and had now softly stolen in among us. I noticed that there were no longer any tears in his eyes nor trembling in his limbs. It seemed as though he had taken a new character upon himself-gathering together with manifest difficulty his poor little strained faculties to exercise his dutiful part in controlling what remained to be done.

"Certainly, my boy," said the Judge. "I don't know any one who seems to have a better right to be here than yourself; Michigan, take some one along with you to help, and let Charley go to choose a proper spot; and so let the whole matter be ended as soon as possible."

For my companion I selected a dull, thick set Dutchman, with plenteous muscle, and vacant face, and so we set off, the boy Charley falling silently behind. It proved, at first, not very easy to choose a proper bur

ial place. There was none to be found in the whole length and breadth of the plain, which everywhere was hard and stony, and cut up with excavations, or staked out into claims for future work. Nor near the stream, which was entirely occupied by flumes and rockers. Nor on the slope of the surrounding hills, which was even more stony than the plain, besides offering scarcely any secure foothold. But on the other side of the lowest range of hills, and about half a mile from the main camping ground, the land sloped down pleasantly towards a gulley, and there formed a level plateau some twenty feet broad. It seemed a place especially adapted for the purpose required. It was evidently unoccupied for any mining operation. In one or two spots along the gulley, as well as within it, were traces of slight excavations; but these had, no doubt, been abandoned almost as soon as made, so unpromising of gold had they proved. Apart from such considerations, it was a very attractive place. The bed of the gulley was about thirty feet wide, almost as smooth as a floor, and paved with white pebbles. Doubtless, in the season of the spring freshets, a stream would be running through it, and this would account, probably, for the condition of the banks. For the level of the land, some five or six feet above the gulley, was covered with a thick turf, in which, here and there, some secretions or deposits of moisture had left a few sprigs or tufts of green grass, showing that, in the proper season, the whole surface of the sward must be bright with fresh verdure, and dotted, perhaps, with flowers. Here and there were large trees of the redwood cedar, and through a gap in the hills the pink tops of the Sierras gloamed against the sky, some thirty miles or so away.

"It is as pretty a spot as we can find,” I said, suggestively.

"Yes, and in the spring, maybe the running of the streams close at hand will sound pleasant to him," was the boy's response, in a low and almost inaudible tone, as though more in soliloquy than in attempt at conversation. I could not help looking a little askance at him, as I heard this piece of senti

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