the emery or fine black sand
from the week's work. Horses that can travel only one day, and from
that to a week, are from 100 to 300 dollars. Freight charge by launch
owners for three days' run, 5 dollars per barrel. Wagoners charge 50 to
100 dollars per load, 20 to 50 miles, on good road. Corn, barley, peas,
and beans, 10 dollars a-bushel. Common pistols, any price; powder and
lead very dear. I know a physician who, in San Francisco, purchased a
common made gold-washer at 20 or 30 dollars, made of 70 or 80 feet of
boards. At a great expense he boated it up to the first landing on the
Sacramento, and there met a wagoner bound to one of the diggings with
an empty wagon, distant about 50 miles. The wagoner would not take up
the machine under 100 dollars. The doctor had to consent, and bided his
time. June passed over, rich in gold; all on that creek did wonders,
when the wagoner fell sick, called on his friend the doctor, whose tent
was in sight; the doctor came, but would not administer the first dose
under the old sum of 100 dollars, which was agreed to, under a proviso
that the following doses should be furnished more moderate. When a
man's time is worth 100 dollars a-day, to use a spade and tin pan,
neither doctors nor wagoners can think much of a pound of gold, and you
may suppose merchants, traders, and pedlars are not slow to make their
fortunes in these golden times. In San Francisco there is more
merchandize sold now, monthly, than before in a year. Vessels after
vessels arrive, land their cargoes, dispose of them, and bag up the
dust and lay up the vessel, as the crew are soon among the missing. The
cleanest clear out is where the captain follows the crew. There are
many vessels in San Francisco that cannot weigh anchor, even with the
assistance of three or four neighbouring vessels. Supercargoes must
land cargo on arriving, or have no crew to do it for them. Some vessels
continue to go to sea, with small crews, at 50 dollars per month for
green hands. Old hands are too wise for them, and prefer digging an
ounce or two a-day, and drinking hock and champagne at half an ounce
a-bottle, and eating bad sea bread at 1 dollar per pound. I have seen a
captain of a vessel, who, by his old contract in the port whence he
sailed, was getting 60 dollars per month, paying his cook 75 dollars,
and offering 100 dollars per month for a steward; his former crew, even
to his mates, having gone a 'prospecting.' Uncle Sam's ships su