lain.
Through the centre of this the Little Creek warbled on its course; now
circling round some wooded knoll, until it almost formed an island; anon
dropping, in a quiet cascade, over the edge of a flat rock; in some
places sweeping close under the base of a perpendicular cliff; in others
shooting out into a lake-like expanse of shallow water across a
bright-green meadow, as it murmured on over its golden bed towards the
Sacramento.

Higher up the valley the cliffs were more abrupt. Dark pines and
cedars, in groups or singly, hung on their sides, and gave point to the
landscape, in the background of which the rivulet glittered like a
silver thread where the mountains rose in peaks towards the sky.

Along the whole course of this rivulet, as far as the eye could trace
it, searchers for gold were at work on both banks, while their white
tents, and rude wooden shanties, were scattered, singly or in clusters
of various extent, upon the wooded slopes, in every pleasant and
suitable position. From the distance at which our party first beheld
the scene, it appeared as if the miners were not men, but little animals
grubbing in the earth. Little or no sound reached their ears; there was
no bustle, no walking to and fro, as if the hundreds there assembled had
various and diverse occupations. All were intently engaged in one and
the same work. Pick-axe and shovel rose and fell with steady regularity
as each individual wrought with ceaseless activity within the narrow
limits of his own particular claim, or rocked his cradle beside it.
Dig, dig, dig; rock, rock, rock; shovel, shovel, shovel, was the order
of the day, as long as day lasted; and then the gold-hunters rested
until recruited strength and dawning light enabled them again to go down
into the mud and dig, and rock, and shovel as before.

Many, alas! rocked themselves into a fatal sleep, and dug and shovelled
their own graves among these golden hills. Many, too, who, although
they dug and toiled for the precious metal, had neither made it their
god nor their chief good, were struck down in the midst of their heavy
toils, and retired staggering to their tents, and there, still clad in
their damp garments, laid their fevered heads on their saddles--not
unfrequently on their bags of gold-dust--to dream of the distant homes
and the loved faces they were doomed to see no more; and thus, dreaming
in solitude, or watched, mayhap, by a rough though warm-hearted mate,
brea