And yet it was not jumped the next morning, nor yet the next, and a whole week had come and gone before we heard more of this exploit.That day week, however, a day of great heat, Hanson, with a little roll of paper in his hand, and the eternal pipe alight; Breedlove, his large, dull friend, to act, I suppose, as witness; Mrs.Hanson, in her Sunday best;and all the children, from the oldest to the youngest; -arrived in a procession, tailing one behind another up the path.Caliban was absent, but he had been chary of his friendly visits since the row; and with that exception, the whole family was gathered together as for a marriage or a christening.Strong was sitting at work, in the shade of the dwarf madronas near the forge; and they planted themselves about him in a circle, one on a stone, another on the waggon rails, a third on a piece of plank.Gradually the children stole away up the canyon to where there was another chute, somewhat smaller than the one across the dump; and down this chute, for the rest of the afternoon, they poured one avalanche of stones after another, waking the echoes of the glen.Meantime we elders sat together on the platform, Hanson and his friend smoking in silence like Indian sachems, Mrs.Hanson rattling on as usual with an adroit volubility, saying nothing, but keeping the party at their ease like a courtly hostess.
Not a word occurred about the business of the day.Once, twice, and thrice I tried to slide the subject in, but was discouraged by the stoic apathy of Rufe, and beaten down before the pouring verbiage of his wife.There is nothing of the Indian brave about me, and I began to grill with impatience.At last, like a highway robber, I cornered Hanson, and bade him stand and deliver his business.
Thereupon he gravely rose, as though to hint that this was not a proper place, nor the subject one suitable for squaws, and I, following his example, led him up the plank into our barrack.There he bestowed himself on a box, and unrolled his papers with fastidious deliberation.There were two sheets of note-paper, and an old mining notice, dated May 30th, 1879, part print, part manuscript, and the latter much obliterated by the rains.It was by this identical piece of paper that the mine had been held last year.For thirteen months it had endured the weather and the change of seasons on a cairn behind the shoulder of the canyon; and it was now my business, spreading it before me on the table, and sitting on a valise, to copy its terms, with some necessary changes, twice over on the two sheets of note-paper.One was then to be placed on the same cairn - a "mound of rocks" the notice put it; and the other to be lodged for registration.
Rufe watched me, silently smoking, till I came to the place for the locator's name at the end of the first copy; and when I proposed that he should sign, I thought I saw a scare in his eye."I don't think that'll be necessary," he said slowly; "just you write it down." Perhaps this mighty hunter, who was the most active member of the local school board, could not write.There would be nothing strange in that.The constable of Calistoga is, and has been for years, a bed-ridden man, and, if I remember rightly, blind.He had more need of the emoluments than another, it was explained;and it was easy for him to "depytize," with a strong accent on the last.So friendly and so free are popular institutions.
When I had done my scrivening, Hanson strolled out, and addressed Breedlove, "Will you step up here a bit?" and after they had disappeared a little while into the chaparral and madrona thicket, they came back again, minus a notice, and the deed was done.The claim was jumped; a tract of mountain-side, fifteen hundred feet long by six hundred wide, with all the earth's precious bowels, had passed from Ronalds to Hanson, and, in the passage, changed its name from the "Mammoth" to the "Calistoga." I had tried to get Rufe to call it after his wife, after himself, and after Garfield, the Republican Presidential candidate of the hour - since then elected, and, alas! dead - but all was in vain.The claim had once been called the Calistoga before, and he seemed to feel safety in returning to that.
And so the history of that mine became once more plunged in darkness, lit only by some monster pyrotechnical displays of gossip.And perhaps the most curious feature of the whole matter is this: that we should have dwelt in this quiet corner of the mountains, with not a dozen neighbours, and yet struggled all the while, like desperate swimmers, in this sea of falsities and contradictions.Wherever a man is, there will be a lie.
