Death Valley in '49 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 581 pages of information about Death Valley in '49.

Death Valley in '49 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 581 pages of information about Death Valley in '49.

Before we reached Gorgona we got acquainted with a man named John Briggs from Wisconsin, and Lyman Ross from Rhode Island, and concluded to travel in company.  Our fare thus far was ten dollars, and two horses to Panama for which we paid twelve dollars each.  We now rode and walked turn about, and when we inquired about the road we were told that being once in it we could not possibly get out except at the other end, and would need no guide, and at the end of a very disagreeable day’s work we reached the big gate at Panama and entered the ancient city.

We waited but little here before taking the steamer Southerner, bound for San Francisco.  Three days after we sailed away one of our passengers went overboard, a corpse, and three or four more died and were buried alongside before we reached Acapulco.

Here we took on water and coal and were soon at sea again.  McCloud soon had to take his place in the sick ward, and I attended him most of the time, but was not allowed to give him anything without a permit from the doctor, and the long delays between the administrations of medicine made the sickness hard to endure.  The sick could see the dead sewed up in blankets with a bucket of coal for a weight; then resting on a plank with sailors on each side, the mate would read the brief services appropriate to a burial at sea, the plank was tilted, and the lifeless body slid down into the depths.  Such scenes were no benefit to the suffering, for each might think his turn was next, when a bright hope and prospect would be better for his recovery.

One forenoon the fire gong rang out sharply, and all was in confusion, supposing the ship to be on fire, but nothing could be seen but a dense fog, except as a gentle wind lifted it a little and there, dead ahead, was a rocky island, against which it seemed we must dash to destruction, for there was no beach and very little chance for any one to be saved.  Ten minutes more in this direction and we were lost, but the officers quickly changed the course, and we passed the pile of rocks scarcely a rifle shot away.  Whose fault it was, this danger so miraculously avoided, we did not know, the captain’s or the imperfect chart, and opinions were freely given both ways.

About those days the air felt cooler the fog less dense, and the foggy rain-bows we had seen so much when the sun tried to shine, were scarce, while a more northern wind created a coolness that made sick folks feel refreshed and hopeful.  It gave me a chance to cheer up my sick friend who was still in bed, and tell him it would continue to be cooler as we went.

On the Fourth of July the officers produced the ship’s full supply of flags, and the sailors climbed high and low, fastening them to every rope till we had a very gay Independence day appearance.  In this gay dress we steamed into San Diego harbor to leave the mail for a few soldiers stationed there, and get their letters in return.

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Death Valley in '49 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.