Chapter 13: Another Partner

 

Mac worked alone on the gold claim for several days while Joel was at Sutter’s Fort. “Weren’t but two hundred dollars in the flakes we found,” Joel reported when he returned. “A lot of money on the trail to Oregon, but it ain’t much here.”

“You sell it?” Mac asked.

“Yep. There’s a lot more stores and assayers around the fort now, but I went to that Nate fellow, like you said. Had him split it on our accounts.”

“My first find must have been beginner’s luck,” Mac said. “You want to keep panning or should we move on?”

“Ain’t got nothing better to do,” Joel said. “I’m still seeking a fortune.” The two partners found gold flakes every day, but they hadn’t panned any large nuggets like Mac had found before Joel arrived.

Mac wanted his own fortune also. He had an image of returning to Boston able to do as he pleased, free of his family. In the meantime, he appreciated the unscheduled hours and even the hard physical labor that had him falling gratefully into his bedroll each night. “Guess I can stay awhile as well,” he told Joel.

Other prospectors found their way into the valley. Mac told Joel, “Keep your rifle nearby. In case we see trouble.”

Joel curled his lip. “I told you, you ain’t wagon captain no more.”

“We don’t know these men,” Mac said. “We could be ambushed.”

“I ain’t questioning the need for caution,” Joel said. “But there ain’t no call for you to order me around.”

Mac made a show of checking his own gun each morning and evening, but he didn’t raise the matter again with Joel. He also walked along the ridge above the creek each day, searching to see if other men worked claims nearby. Some men stopped on the creek for a day or two, but most moved on. Over time, more prospectors staked claims in the valley, but none near Mac and Joel.

One day in mid-July, a small man with a scraggly white beard and battered black top hat staked out land upstream of Joel’s claim. The old man paced on bandy legs along the riverbank and eyed Mac and Joel while he dug near the water. But he stayed on his own territory.

The day after the bandy-legged fellow appeared, Joel found his first pea-sized nugget and bellowed for Mac to come see.

“Hush,” Mac hissed after racing over to Joel. “Do you want the whole valley to know what you’ve found?”

The old man upstream walked over. “Name’s Huntington,” he said. “Jeremiah Huntington. Find somethin’?”

Mac introduced himself and Joel. “Where you from?” Mac asked, shaking hands with Huntington.

“Mined in Georgia. Up near Dahlonega. Didn’t get there till the govmint was givin’ away Cherokee land in thirty-two.”

“Find any gold in Georgia?” Joel asked.

“Only enough to spend,” Huntington said, spitting on the ground. “Strike petered out. So I come to California. Worked down south. That was in forty-six. Come north when I heard they’s found gold at Sutter’s Mill. This time, I aim to strike it rich. Sounds like you boys are havin’ some luck.”

“Found a few flakes.” Mac didn’t give any details. No reason to tell Huntington he’d found a large nugget of nearly pure gold on the land and Joel had just found a smaller nugget.

“You try sluicin’?” Huntington hawked up phlegm and spat again.

Mac and Joel shook their heads. “What’s sluicing?” Mac asked.

“Wood box to run water and gravel through.” Huntington squinted at the burbling stream in front of them. “Creek’s plenty fast enough. I’m aimin’ to try. If there’s color in these parts, I’ll find it.”

“If we’re finding gold with pans, why bother with sluices?” Joel wiped his forehead with a filthy handkerchief.

“Move more dirt.” Huntington peered at the hills above the water. “Not much wood this side of the creek, but plenty of pines on the hills across. Enough for sluices.”

“Will you show us how?” Mac asked.

Huntington cocked an eyebrow at the two younger men. “Sluices work best with more’n one man. You help me, and I’ll help you,” he said. “I got know-how. You got brawn. Partners?” He put out his hand.

Mac wondered about the fellow. He seemed loose-lipped and cantankerous. But the three men shook on the deal.

 

July 26, 1848. Seems I am putting down stakes in California. I now have two partners in the gold claim. I can trust Joel, but what of Huntington? Still, we need his experience.

Both Boston and Oregon seem very far away.

 

Mac fingered the worn baby bootie in his bag when he put his journal away. He wasn’t likely to hear more about Jenny and William, not until Joel heard from his family. It was time to let them go.