The west shore., December 01, 1883, Page 294, Image 4

December, 1883
294
THE WEST SHORE.
"And you want to take only half? What
becomes of your interest in the claim?"
"You cau have llmt aiid welcome."
" I have proposition that beats that to death."
"What is it?"
" I've been thinking over this matter a great
deal, and I'll tell you what I think. If you go
away and leave me here, I will get to drinking
and gambling again, lose all I have and become
a worthless sot. I am not fit to stay in the mines.
Our claim is the richest and has the best water on
the bar. It is not half worked out yet, and I can
sell it for $5,000. That will give us $20,000. I
will go to Oregon with you ; we will still remain
partners and will put our money into a good,
steady business."
" Agreed j we'll sell out and start to-morrow,"
and lh7 clasped hands to seal the compact.
The next day they divided their pile of dust
into two equal heaps, each one stowing a portion
in a belt and strapping it around his wai$t. They
purchased two good saddle horses and a pack an
imal for their provisions and camping outfit. The
second morning early they mounted and rode
slowly along the trail that wound tortuously up
the steep slope of Rich lar hill, turning at the
summit to look down upon the scene of their
tailors and to bid a final farewell to the mines.
It was in the month ol May, 1851, that Peter
Warren again skirted the base (if white-robed
Shasta on his return to the home he had left two
years and a half before. In Shasta valley they
came upon the new mining camp of Shasta Butte
City, now Yreka, a lively place but two months
old t but they turned their backs upon the temp
tation to stake off a claim on the flats, camped
but one night on the bank of Yreka creek, and
then resumed their journey northward.
The next day they crossed Siskiyou mountain
and descended into the edge oi Rogue river valley,
where they camped on the margin of Hear creek.
They were now in the country of the hostile
Rogue River Indians, and having been warned to
be on their guard, decided to keep watch through
the night by turns. Just before daylight, while
Watson was sleeping soundly and Warren, hav
ing just returned Irom a short tour around the
camp, was sitting by the fire, lost in thought
about his lamily and wondering in what circum
stances he would find them, a demoniacal yell burst
from the darkness without, accuaipanied by a
volley of arrows. Warren fell forward dead,
while Watson sprang to his feet and discharged
all the chambers of his revolver in rapid succes'
sion. 1 he assailants were few in number and
fell back before his fusitade. During the lull in
the attack Watson hastened to the side ol his
fallen partner and endeavoied to arouse him, only
to find that he had ceased to breathe fuievcr. II
had just time to snatch a revolver from the dead
man's belt when the attack was renewed, and
springing upon the back of one of the horses, he
cleared for himself passage with the weapon
and made his escape along the trail up the side of
the mountain. He returned to Yreka with an
arrow head sticking in his arm, to testify to his
narrow escape.
The crowd that gathered round him to listen
to his story of the night attack and the death of
his companion was of the true miner stamp, and
again and again wu he taken to the slab bar of
Sam Look hart's shake and canvas saloon and
treated by his sympathetic auditors. Having ab
stained from liquor for nearly six months, these
frequent guzzlings soon affected him strongly.
Although in his flight he had taken with him only
half of the gold belonging to them, the other
moiety being on the person of his dead friend,
yet his fine sense of honor led him to look upon
the half of what he had saved as belonging to his
partner's family. Exhilerated by the excitement
and the whisky, and enticed by the sight of gam
bling on every side, the idea of winning enough at
faro to make his partner's share as large as before
entered his befogged brain. He began at once,
alternately playing and drinking, and before
morning he not only lost his last " pinch of
dust, but became so thoroughly intoxicated that
when he came to his senses again the next day he
could scarcely remember what he had been doing.
Gradually it all came back to him, and when
he realized that the little store he held in trust for
his dead friend's wife and little ones had been
hopelessly lost, he was wild with grief and re
morse. With uplifted hand he solemnly vowed
to abjure whisky forever, and to rectify the wrong
he had committed. He sent no word to the
bereaved family, for they had no doubt believed
Warren dead for at least a year, and no good
could be accomplished by telling them how nar
rowly they had escaped a fortune j besides he was
ashamed to tell the truth, and less than the truth
he would not. He took up a claim on the flat
and worked with energy -to retrieve his lost
ground ; but his early habit of gambling had be
come too firmly fastened upon him, and with no
true friend like I'eter Warren to hold him back,
he was unable to resist the temptation to try his
luck at the table. Gaming became a mania with
him, not on his own account, but to win a fortune
for the helpless ones who might even then be suf
fering for the simple necessaries of life. Regu
larly every Saturday night he took the few ounces
he made in his claim and sat down to the table
until the last stake was played. He worked early
and lnte, denied himself even necessary food, that
he might save more, and every ounce went into
the hands of the gamblers.
He soon left Yreka and wandered through the
mines, his thoughts constantly bent on the same
object. Only once after that did he find a good
claim ; but one night in the excitement of a game,
having lost all he had, he put up his claim as a
stake against ten ounces and saw the card turn up
against him. He cursed himself in his despair,
and for the first time realized how insane he had
been. From that day he never staked a dollar on
cards. Yet, now that he had come to his senses,
all good fortune seemed to desert him. Year
after year he wandered through the mines, never
again finding a paying claim, and making barely
enough to live upon.
' Every exciting stampede for new diggings or
adventurous expedition that promised a golden
reward, found an eager follower in James Watson
In 1854 he joined Walker's invasion of Lower
California, and when the "Grey-eyed Man of
Destiny" met with disaster, found his way back
on foot across the burning sands of San Diegi
and Los Angeles. In 1858 he wai in the mad
rush to Fraser river, traversing hundreds of miles
of mountains and valleys, inhabited only by hos
tile savages, and plunging at last into the rocky
wilderness of British Columbia only to find the
good claims all located lone before his arrival.
lie ue'rtrned the next year just in time to be car
ried on the crest of th: mad wave rolling into the
wasnoe country to locate on the great Comstock
lode, From there he went to Salmon xUa when
the Idaho mines were discovered in 1861, and the
next year passed south to ths new mines about
Boise Uty. A year later he hurried to Aldtr
gulch in Montana, and later yet to Summit valley,
near tne silver uow.
Here he located a ledge in partnership with
two others, and prospected it until they became
convinced it was very rich. They worked with
an arastra for a time and then put up a two-s'.amp
mill ; but soon alter this was paid for the rock
from lower down the ledge became very base and
yielded almost nothing.
Watson's partners abandoned the mine in dis
gust, saying it was a "dead failure," a title the
mine bore ever afterwards ; but Watson decided to
remain. He had wandered enough, and was deter
mined to make his final stand in Summit valley
and cling to the mine, convinced that at some
time in the future a method ol working the ore
would be discovered. Annually for years he did
the necessary amount of work on the ledge to hold
his claim, living in the little cabin near by, and
supporting himself by labor in the large mines be
ing developed all around him.
Thus matters ran on for ten years. One even
ing late in the fall of 1876, he was returning from
his work on the day shift of the Moulton, when
he heard cries for help coming from the darkness
a short distance ahead. Snatching up a stick
that lay at his feet in the trail, he ran forward and
came suddenly upon three men bending over 1
dark object on the ground. They jumped op
and disappeared quickly in the darkness, while he
stooped overto see what the object was, and
was horrified to find a man apparently dead, wiw
a warm current of blood flowing fio.n a deep cut
in. his side. He raised the senseless form in hii
arms and bore it to his cabin, where he staunched
the flow of blood and restored the wounded Dim
to consciousness. All he could tell of the affair
was that while on his way into Butte City he wu
attacked by three men, two of them holding him
while the third took from his pocket a bucKswn
bag containing $400 in double eagles. He strug
gled violently and called loudly for help until one
of them plunged a knife into his side, and he
knew no more until he regained consciousness on
the cot in the miner's cabin.
The stranoer was a comparatively young nun.
about thirty years of age, and though pale
the loss of blood his countenance showed that be
led a lire involving plenty of exercise In the open
air. A few days later, as his patient began to
gain in strength, the host said in his bluff, strait
forward way, Well, stranger, let us trot fair
introduce ourselves. I am Jim Watson. I
knocked about all the mines on the coast. I o
a ledge here that everyone will tell you isn t wort
a green persimmon, and I work in the mines for
living." . r n
The other simply said, "My name U OeorF
Warren, and I came from Oregon with a bana
cattle."
Never since that fatal night in Rop n
valley had Watson heard the name Warren wij
out a start, and now he looked up qu'r "
asked, " What wu your father's name ?
"Peter."
"Is he living?" hbr"
" No, he died in the mind when I was V