s that was taking
place from the hills. All the miners were moving out. We found discarded
articles of camp equipment; we passed some people without any equipment
at all. Sick men lay under bushes without covering, or staggered
painfully down the muddy trails. Many were utterly without food. If it
rained, as it did from frequent showers, they took it as cheerfully as
they could. This army of the unsuccessful was a striking commentary on
the luck of the mines.

Robbers most singularly lacked. I did not hear of a single case of
violence in all the rather slow journey out. The explanation did not
seem difficult, however. Those who travelled alone had nothing worth the
taking; while those who possessed gold went in numbers too strong to be
attacked. The road agents had gone straight to the larger cities. Nor,
must I confess, did I see many examples of compassion to the
unfortunate. In spite of the sentimental stories that have been
told--with real enough basis in isolated fact, probably--the time was
selfish. It was also, after eliminating the desperadoes and blacklegs,
essentially honest. Thus one day we came upon a wagon apparently
deserted by the roadside. On it was a rudely scrawled sign:

"_Will some kind person stay by my wagon. I am in distress looking for
my oxen. Please do not take anything, for I am poor, and the property is
not mine._"

Nothing had been touched, as near as I could make out. We travelled by
easy stages, and by a roundabout route, both because the road was bad,
and because we wanted to see the country. On our way we passed several
other small camps. A great many Chinese had come in, and were engaged in
scratching over the abandoned claims. In fact, one man told me that
sometimes it was worth while to file on some of the abandoned claims
just to sell them to these patient people! As we descended from the
mountains we naturally came upon more and more worked-out claims. Some
had evidently been abandoned in disgust by men with little stamina; but,
sometimes, with a considerable humour. An effigy clad in regulation
gambler's rig, including the white shirt, swayed and swung slowly above
the merest surface diggings. Across the shirt front these words were
written:

"_My claim failed!_"

And then below them:

"_Oh, Susannah! don't you cry for me!
I'm a-living dead in Californi-ee_"--
which was very bad as doggerel, but probably very accurate as to its
author's state of mind.

One af