ithout excitement, as offering a possible means of
lifting the burden war had laid. Families strained their resources,
mortgaged their possessions, to equip and send their single strongest
members to make the common fortune.

Then came the song that caught the popular ear; and the rush was on.
Most great movements are done to song, generally commonplace. It was so
in this instance. _Oh, Susannah!_ or rather a modification of the
original made to fit the occasion, first sung in some minstrel show, ran
like fire in the tinder of men's excited hopes. From every stage, on
every street corner, in every restaurant and hotel it was sung, played,
and whistled. At the sound of its first notes the audience always sprang
to its feet and cheered like mad.

The desire to go to El Dorado was universal, and almost irresistible.
The ability to go was much more circumscribed. For one thing, it cost a
good deal of money; and that was where _I_ bogged down at the first
pull. Then I suppose a majority did have ties of family, business or
other responsibilities impossible to shake off. However, we all joined
one or more of the various clubs formed for the purpose of getting at
least some of their members to California; and discussed heatedly the
merits of the different routes; and went into minute and fascinating
details as to processes of which we knew less than nothing; and sang
_Oh, Susannah_! and talked ourselves into a glorified fever of
excitement; and went home with our heads in the clouds. Once in a great
while some of these clubs came to something--as a body I mean; for
individual members were constantly working themselves up the summit of
resolution to rush headlong and regardless down the other side and out
of our sight. When a man had reached a certain pitch of excitement he
ran amuck. He sold anything, deserted anything, broke through anything
in the way of family, responsibility, or financial lacks in order to go.
But, as I say, occasionally one of these clubs pooled its individual
resources and bought some old tub of a whaler, or outfitted a wagon
train, and started off. But generally we got only as far as _Oh,
Susannah!_ I remember once, in coming out from one of our meetings,
finding myself next a solemn and earnest youth originally from my own
rural village. He walked by my side for several squares lost in a brown
study. Then suddenly he looked up.

"Frank," said he with conviction, "I believe I'll go. I know most of
th