st giant rolls down
hill. Force broken by rock near cabin. Terror of careless woodman.
Another narrow escape at Smith's Bar. Pursuit and escape of woodman.
Two sudden deaths at Indian Bar. Inquest in the open. Cosmopolitan
gathering thereat. Wife of one of the deceased an advanced bloomer.
Animadversions on strong-minded bloomers seeking their rights.
California pheasant, gallina del campo of the Spaniards. Pines and dies
in captivity. Smart, harmless earthquake-shocks.

Letter _the_ Tenth

AMATEUR MINING-HAIRBREADTH 'SCAPES, &C.

_From our Log Cabin_, INDIAN BAR,

_November_ 25, 1851.

Nothing of importance has happened since I last wrote you, except that
I have become a _mineress_, that is, if the having washed a pan of dirt
with my own hands, and procured therefrom three dollars and twenty-five
cents in gold-dust, which I shall inclose in this letter, will entitle
me to the name. I can truly say, with the blacksmith's apprentice at
the close of his first day's work at the anvil, that I am sorry I
learned the trade, for I wet my feet, tore my dress, spoilt a pair of
new gloves, nearly froze my fingers, got an awful headache, took cold,
and lost a valuable breastpin, in this my labor of love. After such
melancholy self-sacrifice on my part, I trust you will duly prize my
gift. I can assure you that it is the last golden handiwork you will
ever receive from Dame Shirley.

Apropos of lady gold-washers in general, it is a common habit with
people residing in towns in the vicinity of the diggings to make up
pleasure-parties to those places. Each woman of the company will
exhibit, on her return, at least twenty dollars of the oro, which she
will gravely inform you she has just panned out from a single basinful
of the soil. This, of course, gives strangers a very erroneous idea of
the average richness of auriferous dirt. I myself thought (now, don't
laugh) that one had but to saunter gracefully along romantic streamlets
on sunny afternoons, with a parasol and white kid gloves perhaps, and
to stop now and then to admire the scenery, and carelessly rinse out a
small panful of yellow sand (without detriment to the white kids,
however, so easy did I fancy the whole process to be), in order to fill
one's work-bag with the most beautiful and rare specimens of the
precious mineral. Since I have been here I have discovered my mistake,
and also the secret of the brilliant success of former gold-washeresses.

The mine