CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1891 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE PS 1904.H42T2 Tales of the Sierras.by J. W. Haves wit 3 1924 022 054 310 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022054310 ^-Qf^-N^i 'C4 TALES OF THE SIERRAS J. \V. HAYES. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN L. CASSIDY. PORTLAND, OREGON: F. \V. BALTES AND COMPANV, I't'Bl-ISHEKS, 1900. 4 Cf)PVRIGHTED igoo ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DEDICATION. To my hieloved little son, Benjamin Ladil, whose advent into this world has brought added hapjuness and comfort to nic. this book is affectionateh' inscrilied. CONTENTS. The Throckmortoiis, ------ 17 Sun Lee's Courtship, ----- 23 The Hermit of Telegraph Hill, - - - - 27 Carrying the War Into China, - - - 35 Whiskey Flat, ------- 39 I/Ost Opportunities, ----- 55 " Pass Me Not," ------ 59 Welcoming the President, - - - - Q3 "What's Atin' Yon," ----- 69 Pioneer and Modern Telegraphy, - - - 73 Billy McGinniss' Wake, ----- 81 A Messenger Boy's Trip to London, - - 85 A Piute Detective, ------ 89 Across the Sierras, - - - - - - 95 Digging Wells by Telephone, - - - - 99 Enterprise in Emergency, - - - - 103 Some Reminiscences, ------ 107 A Youthful Don Quixote, - - - - m Oysters Cause Wire Trouble, - - - . I15 The Carson Canning Company, - - - 117 Bran Again, - - . - - - - 121 Col. Dickey's Paper Weight, - - - - 123 The Cowboy Dispatcher, ----- 131 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. Frontispiece. A Reckonin' Party, - . _ _ . 16 Ezra, A Dude, ------- 22 The Countess, _.-._- 22 Telegraph Laundry, ------ 25 Around the Camp Fire, - - - - - 27 Jim Murphy's Last Resting PL^ce, - - - 33 Ah Suev and His Outfit, . . . . 35 Chinese Bulletin Board, ----- 37 Edith Wythe, ------- 39 Rencontre With Indians, - - - - - -iS Desolation, ------- 53 "Do Not Pass Me By," - - - - - 59 The President's Reception at Virginia City, - 66 A Well Qualified Superintendent, - - - 78 Touching the Wire to Yakima, . . - 82 Remnants of the Wake, ----- 83 Mahala at The Bar, - - . - - 92 Some Reminiscences, ------ 107 Jimmy in Need of a Shave, - - - - 108 A Youthful Don Quixote, ----- 111 Teddy, The Terror, - - - - - - 111 The Biggest Injun in Omaha, . - - - II3 Sim in the Wilds of Omaha, - - - - 113 The Tipperary Custom Mill, . - - . 121 Proceeding to Business, ----- 126 A Penitentiary Offense in Salt Lake, - - - 128 Chasing the San Francisco Train, - - - 133 Ikey Apologizes, ------- 135 PREFACE. The opportunity has at length offered itself for me to comply with an oft-repeated request; namely, to col- lect my stories published in various periodicals, and add to them many of later date which have never before ap- peared in print. In presenting "TALES OF THE SIERRAS" to the public, I do so in the belief that it will find general favor with its readers. I do not hope to "fill a long-felt want," but I do anticipate filling a niche all my own. I have not followed any well-trodden path in my style of litera- ture, but have rather sought to be entirely original. Some of my readers may think that my characters are too highly drawn, but I wish to assure them that such is not the case. The stories are founded on facts, with just enough of an elasticity of the trutli to render them interesting and entertaining. There really existed an "Ezra Throckmorton," as I have described him, and the character of Mellissa, the Countess, is a faithful por- trayal of his sister. Visitors to Mount Dana, in the high Sierras, will have pointed out to them the monument of Jim Murphy, the "Hermit of Telegraph Hill," by the simple sheepherder. This mausoleum, the grandest in the world, with its crude and weather-beaten inscription, defies the ravages of time, and will stand for ages. Manv may read the story of little Edith Wythe and drop a tear to her untimely demise, marveling at the same time over the dauntless courage of her 'brother Dexter. No irreverence is intended to the memory of Presi- dent William Orton in my sketch of "Welcoming the 13 President." I merely wish to illustrate the freedom wliich life in the Far West engenders in the hearts of the people here. I will be much pleased if the perusal of this book assists its readers in gleaning the lesson of looking at the happ)' side of life at all times, and thus making a truism of the lines: "Laugh and the world laughs with you, Weep and you weep alone : For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth. It has trouble enough of its own." THE AUTHOR. THE THROCKMORTONS. IT was a proud day in the life of young Jack Hamlin when the superintendent at Louisville promoted him from messenger to a position as night operator at Mountain Top. There was little expected of a night operator at -this point, but as the north^bound express passed the south-bound flyer at this place it was deemed necessary to maintain an office. It was an uninviting- scene that met Jack's gaze on his arrival at Mountain Top. The little shack of a depot was in the midst of a small clearing, and was dirt-begrimed and inhospitable- looking. There were no other houses visible, but to the east of the station was a little clearing from which a tiny volume of smoke curled up to the tops of the pine trees. where the wind took it up, speedily melting it from view . Jack's attention was attracted to a motley crowd of "natives," who looked askance at him when he jumped off the train; 'but it was not till the morrow that he be- came acquainted with the simple peasantry of the place. The south-bound Gulf express is due at Mountain Top at 6 P. M. Half an hour before this time, our ob- server, as he stood at the station looking eastward, saw a singular sight. A number of curiously clad "natives" were coming over to the station. They were walking single file, and their shambling gait was as grotesque- looking as were the garments that covered them. They were evidently members of the same family, judging by the step-ladder-like regularity of the sizes of the children. The father of the family had his trousers hitched up with one piece of a gallus, the other half of which seemed to have been handed down to his oldest hopeful. A chip hat, minus crown, partly hid the fiery-red hair of the 17 IS TALES OF THE SIERRAS. elder Throckmorton. A hickory shirt and blue jeans, with the aforesaid solitary suspender, completed the rai- ment of the aristocrat of Mountain Top. His wife, who followed half a dozen feet in the wake of her liege lord, was encased (that is the word) in a gown made of burlap, negligently tied at the waist with a piece of bale rope. Like her husband, she scouted any affectation of foot- g^ear. Behind her came Miss Melissa, red-haired and freckled-faced; shoeless, and with dress of the same piece of material that her mother wore. Then came young Ezra. He was the counterpart of the elder Throckmor- ton, minus the hat and whiskers. Next came the young- est Throckmorton, a wee youngster of 4 years, bearing the unmistakable form and features of the parent branch. Silently each walked on, and, arriving at the station, each member of the family took up his position on the company's fence, all in a row, like so many blackbirds; but with never a word. A few minutes later, a little fur- ther to the south, approaching the station over a winding trail, could be seen another family, almost identical in number and appearance with that of the Throckmortons. These were the Browns. The}- were not considered as good as the Throckmortons, for Miss Melissa had once been to Cincinnati to visit an uncle, and had returned with some "store clothes" and a real milliner-made hat, none, of which she had ever since donned. This mav seem to be a small thing for a family like the Throck- mortons to put on airs about: but the Browns, after see- ing and feeling the fine clothes of Miss Melissa, readily granted the palm of superiorit\- to their neighbors. The Browns sidled up to the vacant portion of the fence, each member of the family taking what appeared THE THROCKMORTONS. 19 to he an accustomed seat. The heads of each family now maije a dive into their pockets, bringing forth a black- Iijoking phig of tobacco. Biting ofif a piece, it was ]iassed to the mother, from her to the daughter, then on down to the wee httle one, all of whom took a chew, returning the remainder of the piece to the respective heads, who now for the first time seemed to recognize the presence of the other. "I reckon the train do be late tonight," remarked Throckmorton. 'T reckon," sententiously replied Brown. The members of both families "reckoned" clear down to rhe small boy. There was a hole in the platform, half a foot in diam- eter, and all of the Browns and Throckmortons started a fusillade of tobacco juice at the unoffending spot, and it was remarkable to see with what precision each and all struck the hole. Miss Melissa seemed to be the most expert, and smiled a little loftily at Amanda Brown, who looked somewhat abashed. "I reckon it won't rain tomorrow," ventured Brown. "I reckon," patronizingly said Throckmorton; and there was the usual "reckonin' " all down the line again. This desultory conversation was kept up until the train arrived and departed. There were no passengers for Mountain Top; there seldom were. The United States mail pouch was thrown off to the agent, and after the departure of the train the Browns and the Throck- mortons filed up to the window to ask for mail. Each member of the two families would ask in turn for a let- ter, and, after receiving the customary "Nothing for you" 20 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. from the agent and postmaster, would sadly shake his head and fall into Indian file. The retreat to the home was in the same order as they had arrived. "These people have been doing precisely the same as this every day since I have been here, and that is seven years," said the agent to Jack. "They never have missed a day, and their salutation is the same now as it was when I first came here. They never get a letter, but it would be a matter of a 'feud' to the death if I deviated the least bit out of my customary way of replying to their ques- tions." Jack Hamlin was indeed glad when he was relieved from duty as night operator at Mountain Top. Lazi- ness and shiftlessness seemed to be the pervading and besetting sin of the Throckmortons and Browns ; and it did not look as if either family would ever rise above its present surroundings. >!-. % :^ Jjc :[: t- Years had passed since Jack Hamlin was night oper- ator at Mountain Top. The episode had almost entirely been effaced from his memory. He had followed the telegraph business at various times, but had never con- fined himself wholly to it. Still, the dots and dashes had a great attraction for him, and he never lost an opportunity of mingling with the craft when he could do so. It was therefore a day to be long remembered when he learned that a nunuber of his boyhood friends, who had been attending an annual convention of the "old-timers" at Omaha, were en route to the Pacific Coast. He speedily joined them at the Hotel del Monte, Montere}-, Cal, the paradise of America, where they were the guests of Gen- eral John I. Sabin, of San Francisco. Jovous greetings and a general good time ensued. THE THROCKMORTONS. 21 [ he friends were sitting on the veranda of the beauti- ful hotel one evening, listening to the strains of music from a string band in the banquet hall, when a peculiar voice attracted Jack's attention. "Aw, it's so deucedly awkward to travel without one's valet, doncher know," Jack heard, and, looking up, saw a tall form and two foppishly dressed men of middle age. One of the strangers had very red hair, and a coun- tenance that Jack thought he had seen before, but he could not place it. He felt sure he had met this man somewhere in the past, but the environments were vastly different. Going over to the hotel register, he saw scrawled the name "Ezra Throckmorton, London, Eng- land" It all came back to him in an instant, and he recognized at once in the modern dude, who thought it "awkward to be without his valet," the long-ago Ezra Throckmorton of Mountain Top, who complacently used to wear the "ofif side" of his father's galluses, and who was always ready to join in the chorus at all of the "reck- cnin' " parties. What a change had taken place! Hamlin did not hesitate to introduce himself and to inquire after "Miss JMelissa" and the Brown family. "Melissa! Why, she married a Count," said Ezra, who was really glad to see Jack again. "She will be here todav, but she will hardl_\- thank you to refer to her youthful days. You see, we Throckmortons were always aristocrats, even when }'0u knew us. The Browns knew it, too. One day the train stopped at Mountain Top and we were all there as usual. For a w^onder, there was a passenger. It was a man from Pittsburgh, and he wanted to see father. It appears that he had learned of 22 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. a coal deposit being on our land, and had come to pur- chase it. A fabulous sum was offered, but pa was true to his superior breeding and demanded twice the amount offered, which was finally paid: and in the short space of one month we had parted with our mountain home, and were living in Louisville. Pa and ma could not stand prosperity, and both died a year afterward. Ma always wanted to go back to her old home, sit on the fence, wait for the train, and ask for the mail; and pa was just the same — But here is Melis- sa ! She is now Countess Agonzal. It is an unmistakable fact that "fine feathers make fine birds," and it would be impossible to recognize in the finely dressed Countess of to- day the little, barefooted, tobacco- chewing Melissa of years ago. And, just think! it was only a mineral de- posit that created this metamor- phosis. A pleasant evening was spent; and on his way to his Northern home Jack could not help thinking that "Truth is stranger than fiction." SUX LEE was the telegraph messenger at Bodie, Cal., when that mining camp was at the height of its prosperity. There were no bo3'S in this camp who would take tlie position, and Sun Lee was engaged at a salar_\- of $50 per month and perc|uisites, the latter con- sisting of the "digs," which amounted to from $2 to $3 a day, which was thought to be a fair salar)- for a messen- ger. It has been stated that <3ur Mongolian brethren can- not learn the art of telegraphy, but this is not so. Sun Lee had been in the office but a short time when he mas- tered the alphabet, and night after night, when the line was idle, he would spend many hours in practicing, and soon he became proficient enough to notify the ot^ce at Virginia City that the Bodie operator "has went out." Of course Sun Lee was the admiration of Chinatown, and it was his great delight to be seen by his country- men sitting at the operating table handling the key when they came in to send a message. Nestling almost in the shadow of the great Sierras is the village of Genoa, and here Miss Minnie Lee pre- sided as operator. She was of a highly romantic temper- ament, and the peculiar style of literature that she con- stantly perused kept her imagination inflamed, so she was always ready for anything daring or dashing if it appealed to the romantic or sentimental side of her nature. She began to learn to telegraph about the time 23 24 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. that Sun Lee was taking his first instructions, and the twain became speedily well acquainted over the wire. The Celestial, too, had a poetic side to his nature, and he and Minnie soon became firm friends. As time went on, the students became more and more interested m each other, but the wily heathen had never disclosed the fact that he was "foreign" born. He used to say, "My name is 'S. Lee,' and yours is 'M. Lee.' " Of course, it was an easy matter for Sun Lee to keep his identity a secret, as the distance from Bodie to Genoa was over a hundred miles, the worst mountain stage road in the country, and there was no one at either of the towns sufifi- cientl)' interested in the matter to disclose the true status of affairs to Miss Lee. One evening Minnie read in the columns of The Telegraph Age an account of a "marriage by wire," and straightway called up Bodie and sent the item to Sun Lee, who remarked, "Why can't you and I do likewise?" The young woman thought it would be so romantic, so she readily acquiesced, and Sun started on the prelimina- ries, engag'ing an itinerant preacher to tie the knot at the Bodie end of the line, while a qualified minister was to perform the same office for the young woman at Genoa. Sun Lee acted as operator, and the afifair went oft smoothly. Of course he did not kiss the bride or enjoy a wedding dinner, but repaired to his customary haunts in Chinatown on the night of his marriage. The officiating preacher at the Bodie end srave the particulars of the case to a Free Press reporter, and the following morning the whole story was told in print, and being put on the wires, speedily became circulated all SUN LEE'S COURTSHIP. over the Coast. Miss Minnie Lee (now Airs. Sun Lee) had a big brother, who swore dire vengeance on his Oriental l^rother-in-law. The irate young mai^ started for Eodie armed to the teeth. .Sun Lee became ap- prised of this fact, and immediately decamped for parts unknown. It was discovered afterwards that there was some technicality about the ceremony which rendered it null and void, so Miss Lee resumed her maid- en name, and it is quite certain that she was for- ever cured of her ro- mantic folly. Nothing w a s ever heard of Sun Lee after this in tele- graph circles. The files of the San Francisco office fail to show that he e\'er applied for a position, but there is a suspicious- looking sign in China- town in that city which bears the following leg- end, that might perhaps throw some light on his w-hereabouts and pres- ent business pursuits: "TELEGRAPH L.\UXDRY." Washing and Ironing Done with Prompt- ness and Despatch. SUN LEE, Alanager. IT was a Xoveiiiljer evening in the year i86 — . Tlie scene was in the beautiful Antelope Valley of Esme- ralda county, Nevada. The weather was a trifle chilly, just enough to make a campfire comfortable. Supper was over and pipes were drawn out, and the group of telegraph-line builders gathered around the campfire to while away an hour or two before turning m. This "turning in" process was generally very simple, and consisted merely of rolling up one's self in a blanket, and with a pine stump or tuft of grass for a pillow and the starry canopy of the beautiful Nevada sky for a cover- lid. The wearied climber would then enjoy a repose not to be found in kingl}- palaces. These two or three hours around the campfire were the most enjoyable of the day, and were spent in spinning yarns, with occasional songs from those so gifted. O'n this particular evening it was suggested that each of the motley crowd should relate some of his early ex- periences, and tell how it came to pass that he was so far away from home. The stories told were varied, interest- ing and thrilling, and all had a more or less humorous side to them. One severe-looking man .stated that he 28 TALES OF THE SIERRAS, had been cashier in a great Eastern institution, but in an unfortunate hour he used some of the company's funds to speculate with, and the venture proving unsuccessful, he was obliged to decamp. A mild-looking young man then told how, in a fit of anger, he had seriously wounded a fellow workman and fled to escape the penalty. A ministerial-appearing old man was then pressed to tell his story. He protested that his tale was so uninter- esting that it was not worth relating, but on further solicitation he stated that he had left his home in Ver- mont because he had not built a church. This statement elicited much merriment, but the story-teller went on to explain as follows : "You see, boys, I was once a preacher back in Vermont. My congregation gave me $3,000 to build a church with, I didn't do it; I came to California instead." Jim Murphy was the next speaker. He said that he had been for many years an operator and lineman at M , on the Ohio river. He had been addicted to the liquor habit, and he had come West simply to break away from old associations and boon companions, and the presence of the fiery liquor. His storv was a simple one, and it indicated that Jim was in earnest, and that he was endeavoring to escape from the evils of intemperance by avoiding temptation. He was consid- eral^ly jeered at by the rest of the "gang," who told him that if he was seeking to live a sober life he had come to a poor place. They recounted how the wine flowed on the other side of the mountains, and prophesied "Jim's" early fall from his good intentions. "Jim" looked firm and determined, and the following day he asked for his "time," stating that he was going for a long hunt. THE HERMIT OF TELEGRAPH HILL. 29 Jim Murphy was a man 50 years of age. He was very tall, with a strong, well-knit frame, and his powers of physical endurance were remarkable. Jmi's adieu to his comrades was very brief, and with his blanket over his back, his cartridge belt buckled around his waist and his trusty rifle over his shoulder, he started up the mountains and was soon lost to view in the chaparral. Time passed, but Jim did not return. He was known as a sturd}' hunter and familiar wath all the phases of woodcraft, so his disappearance caused no alarm, or even ordinary comment. Meanwhile the line to Ante- lope \'alley was completed, and the erstwhile preacher, the whilom cashier and the quondam linemen were dis- charged and speedily engaged in other business. But Jim Murphy — what became of him? * :|: .1: s|c * :'f About twent)- years later a Portuguese sheephcrder, Pietro Sanchez b)' name, encamped one night with his flock in the motmtain fastnesses of the high Sierras, near the headwaters of the Tuolumne river. Pietro was a simple fellow, well content with his lot, and, unlike the majority of Californians, he was not a goldseeker. The French have a proverb which says that "only the un- expected happens," and curiously enough it was by rare accident that Pietro discovered very rich dirt near his camp. This news he conveyed to his friend and neigh- bor, a silver-haired old man, who had l^een his friend for manv vears. This old man was Jim Murph}-, now familiarlv known to the few mountaineers and pros- pectors as "Father" Murph_v. Although more than three score and ten, he was still keen of eye, firm of foot and strong of limb. He had come to this wild and al- 30 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. most inaccessible spot after he left the telegraph service, and since that time he had not sought for or mixed with any so-called civilization. He passed his first winter in tlie mountains in one of the numerous caves, and the following spring he erected a log hut. This habitation was built on the banks of Lake Tenaya, a beautiful moun- tain lake situaited at the base of Mount Dana, one of the Sierra's loftiest and most rugged peaks. About seven years after Jim estalblished himself at Lake Tenaya, Pietro Sanchez came into the neighbor- hood, and the two men, diametrically opposite in dis- position, soon became very warm friends. Jim still had a love for the "dots and dashes," and he constructed a line between his cabin and the Portu- guese's shack, and undertook the task of teaching the sheepherder the mysteries of the Morse alphabet. It was a harder task than he had bargained for, and after six months of patient teaching the idea was given up and a code of interchangeable signals was arranged. "Father" Murphy was proverbial for his kindness and hospitality. He lived alone with his dogs, had a few sheep and cows; his raiment was entirely of his own manufacture, and would today be more expensive than the finest broadcloth. Hunting and fishing parties would come up frequently from the Yosemite Valley to spend a few days during the summer at Lake Tenaya. "Father" Murphy's first request was that during their sojourn at his abode no liquor should be indulged in, and so well was this fact known, and so much was he held in reverence, that his request was always complied with good-naturedly. THE HERMIT OF TELEGRAPH HILL. 31 And so it happened that when Pietro Sanchez told him of his discovery of gold, so close by, and on his propert}', "P"ather" Murphy solilocpiized thus: "Gold! goldl the root of all evil. Why should we let it be known." Better far to live our lives in the present peace- ful way than place ourselves in the wav of temptation. Come, Pietro, let us say nothing about this iind." Pietro promised to keep silent, but in some unknown way the secret was discovered, and two weeks later there was a ru>h to the new "diggin's." A town sprang up as tlKjugh by magic, and the once peaceful and cjuiet region of Mount Dana was broken by the noise and clamor of civilization. "Father" ^lurphy was sorely grieved, and his sense of propriety was greatly shocked, 'when he learned that whisky was the chief article of conmierce at the new- mining camp. }-[e wanted to leave the haven of rest wJTere he had been supremely happy for so long a time, and again seek another refuge, but where to go he did not know. The tempter came one day and "Father" Murphy fell. The old hermit's possessions were found to abound « ith gold, and a marvelously fabulous sum was offered to liim, and he accepted. A banquet was given to cele- brate the event, and "Father'' Murphy, in an unfortunate moment, looked on the wine when it was rosy. Tliis was the beginning of the end. A few weeks later found "Father" Alurphy in San Francisco, rolling it as high as the highest roller. He seemed to be trying to make up for lost time. He had discarded his frontierman's garb and affected a cos- tume which had cost him a pretty penny at the most 32 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. fashionable tailor's in the cit)'. His companions were of the most riotous and flashy kind, and his downfall came quickl}-. Attempting to cross a busy thorough- fare one day, in a state of semi-intoxication, he was knocked down b)' a passing vehicle, which rendered him insensible, and from the effects of which he died. He left no heirs excepting Pietro Sanchez, who was to be the sole legatee upon the fulfillment of one curiovis re- quest. When "Father" Murphy disposed of his property he retained a section which he had named "Telegraph Hill." This "hill" was an immense rock of granite, which rose out of the ground, piercing the sky to a heig-ht of 3,000 feet. It was a beautiful stone, and it presented at a dis- tance all the appearance of a huge tomibstone. "Father" MuqDhy had been so impressed with the location and appearance of the rock that he determined to make it his mausoleum, and he had been at work at odd times hew- ing out of its adamantine sides an aperture large enough to contain his body. It had been understood between him and his Portuguese friend that this spot was to be his final resting-place, and Pietro had received full in- structions how to arrange for the placing of the bodv. The hermit had carved with his crude tools the fol- lowing inscription: "Telegraph Hill. Sacred to the meni- ory of James Murphy, telegraph operator and lineman. Born at Limerick, Ireland, A. D. 1801. Died . Be- ware of Temptation." It was a labored effort, and many of the letters were "back-door," but there was a pathos about the whole which was little short of sublime. Here is where the faithful Pietro placed the body of his friend. The ceremonies were simple, and the THE HERMIT OF TELEGRAPH HILL. 33 mourners few. The work of filling up the mouth of the tomb was done by an artist from San Francisco, and so cleverly was it executed that it would be impossible to detect where the opening in the rock was made. There have been many more costly mausoleums erected to departed loved ones, but nothing excels in grandeur of construction, height, or sublimity of loca- tion the last resting-place of James Murphy, "the hermit of Telegraph Hill." The mistake of "Father" Murphy's life was his flying from temptation instead of manfully holding his ground and fighting the battle to a finish. He fled and he had to figlit the battle all over again. Flis twenty years of hermit's life, instead of strengthening him, only rendered him easier pre}' to his besetting sin when temptation came. THE advent of any new compan)-, be it a telegraph or other enterprise, into a field already covered by a corporation pursuing the same line of business is apt to provoke much rivalry. It is not at all strange, tlierefore, that when the Postal extended their system to the Pacific coast that competition between that com- pany and the Western ITnion became rife. The pros- perity of a new company depends at first largely upon the personal popularity of the officials in charge, and as a general thing official positions were offered to those who might be able by their acquaintance, or "pull," to command a goodly share of patronage. The Chinese are enthusiastic patrons of the telegraph. They like cjuick answers and frequently they will insist upon appending the words, "Answer immediately, right away, quick, soon," to their messages when they think that it will insure more promptness in reply. This class of business is well worthy of being solicited, but as the Chinese are a conservative lot they do not care to experi- ment, and they generally stick to old methods of doing lousiness and to well-known companies, rather than to trv something new. So it must be that something out of the usual order of things has to occur to enable an opposition company to obtain the business of an estab- 36 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. li&hed concern. This vexed question solved itself in one of our flourishing Western cities and brought to the new company the coveted patronag-e, and the following shows how it happened : Ah Sue)' was a Celestial from the Flower}' Kingdom. He was an unusually bright Chinaman, strong in his likes and dislikes, and he was considered quite a Sir Oracle in Chinatown. Hrs business was that of janitor, and his hieroglyphics were appended to a Western Union voucher as such a personage. This was accompanied by an explanatory note from the manager that the hen tracks were the peculiar way in which Ah Su.ey had for signing his name. Ah Suey had an eye for business, and it is not to be wondered at that when the Postal opened its office that he applied for the janitorship, stat- ing as reference that he was performing a similar serv- ice with the other company, and he wished to hold both places. He was readily engaged, but the Western Union manager thought that it was hardly right that Suey should work for both companies, and accordingly dismissed him. This action greatly incensed Ah Suev, and he determined on dire vengeance. He went about for a few days apparently in a brown study, but one morning he seemed to have discovered what he was looking for in the realms of thought. He had a most gorgeous Chinese sign painted in gold and black, and bordered with red, altogether making a striking effect. Ah Suey confidentially informed the Postal manager that the legend on the sign read: ''This is the Chinaman's telegraph office." He asked permission to place the sign in the window, a request which was readilv granted. For several days afterward there was quite a heavv business done at the Postal, received from its Chinese CARRYING THE WAR INTO CHINA. 37 patrijns. So decided and complete bad the change be- come that it seemed it was not possible that the Chinese siirn could have effected so much. Suev \va.s in high glee, and he would chatter volubly in his monosyllabic language to his countrymen as they dropped in to file their messages. Suev evidently had a secret, and one 38 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. which he was not wilhng to impart. The story came out a few days later, however, and it sliowed how it was possible to carry telegraphic war into Chinatown. (Jn one of the principal streets in Chinatown is a bulletin board which conveys to the Chinese reader the currrent news of the day. This board is used also as a sort of an advertising' medium, and Twin Wo Eing and Whoop La Sing will there inform t'heir friends and countrymen that they have just received by the latest steamer, direct from China, a fresh suppiy of rice or opium, or whatever the invoice might be. Advertise- ments of the new play at the Chinese theater and news from the China-Japan Avar were inscribed on this bulle- tin board also. The corner was the most interesting in the Chinese qtiarter, and anything that was put on the board was regarded by the Chinese as strictlv reliable. This was, of course, known to Ah Suey. The wily heathen had taken advantage of it, and as he did not care for expense when it came to being avenged upon a supposed enemy, he had emblazoned in the most con- spicuous place on the board a card which was interpreted by him as follows : "Notice. — To all my friends. When you want to telglap, you no go to A'N^estern Union, no good. You go to Postal, velly nice bossee man there, heap likee the Chinaman. (Signed), Ah Suey." CHAPTER I. Choice Flowers in Barren Soil. A DISAPPOINTED pros- pector once remarked: "When God created the world He had a quantit}' of refuse dirt, lava and rocks left over, which He dumped down on the eastern side of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, and man called it 'Nevada.' " This aspersion is hardly fair, for the truh' rich State of Nevada is not onh- rich in its mineral wealth, but in its numerous and beautiful valleys of arable land, which require but the hand of the irrigator to produce any product under the sun. There are arid spots, though, some indeed so barren and waste that not even a snake or horned toad can be found in their confines. There are manv places where rain or snow never falls, and where the sun shines 365 days in the year, never being interrupted even for a moment. Such a place was AA'hisky Flat. This flat was ten miles wide, lying between the Tiobabe Mountains in the east, and the Del Norte Mountains in the west and north. Here the alkali and saleratus gleamed like snow in the sun's bright rays, and was doubly exasperating to 3y 40 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. the thirsty traveler. The stage road from Red Horse to Mammoth Citj' ctit across this desert, the trail look- ing- like a dark ribbon on a bed of snow, to the observer on the neighboring hill. At the foot of the Tiobabe Mountains was a low, thatched cottage, the only dwelling in this wild waste. A few hundred feet back of this cottage was a small spring, which came with a gush out of the side of the mountain and found its way into a little reservoir. This fountain of life was the means that rendered habitable the solitary dwelling. Every drop of the sup- ply not used by the inhabitants of this remote place was utilized in irrigating a little garden of some two or three acres, and right well did nature respond to the call upon her resources. There were no "seasons" here, for each day was a facsimile of the day previous. The year around the grass grew in this little oasis and the weary stage traveler was always glad to get to this haven, for it was generally known that here would be found a good meal, which is a luxury that even a Nevada traveler can enjoy. The inhabitants of this lonely place were three in number — a mother, daughter and son. The mother was a frail little woman, with a remarkably sweet face and voice. She gave evidence of having seen better days, and one need but to talk with her a moment to be aware that Mrs. Wythe was a lady of culture and refinement; and the next thought uppermost in one's mind was, what was she doing in such a strange place? Her daughter, Edith, was a shy, blushing girl of seventeen smnmers, possessing her mother's voice and manner, with an added earnestness. Dexter was a bright lad of fifteen vears, WHISKY FLAT. 41 full of mii-th and good humor, and intensely devoted to l;is mother and sister. Both children assisted in the gardening, and made it possible for their little mother to eke out an existence in that desert home. CHAPTER II. Whisky Flat, a Telegraph Station. The lonel}' telegraph wire which connected Bodie with Candelaria was in trouble. This was a serious mat- ter, alike to the telegraph company and its patrons, for mining stocks were on the boom, and every five minutes financialh' made or ruined some speculator, and so it was that when the wire was down, all hands and the cook turned out to repair the trouble. The line ran by the little stage station known as Whisky Flat, then aero?; the desert, turning east from the Tiobaba range tci ^larietta and other well-known mining towns, now dc>erted. Tlie day was unusually hot as Jack Hamlin thun- dered down the mountainside leading to the "Flat." He v,-as mounted on a big American horse, which in earlier da^'s had been used in the pon^^-express service, and whose instinct was to "get there" as quickly as possible. The little station was riot visible to Jack until he was right upon it. on accoimt of a sharp turn in tlie road. It was a pretty picture that greeted his eve. The cottage had just received a new coat of white- wash, and vied in color with the snow-white alkali desert that lav a little to the east of it. Honeysuckles and creeping vines covered the abode, and quite a number of old-fashioned roses and other flowers bloomed in the 42 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. surrounding" g^arden. A girl, barefoot and dressed in a loose-fitting calico gown, was sitting near the spring, but the noise of the approaching horse and the sudden appearance of Jack startled her, and with a nimble and graceful bound she cleared the fence and disappeared inside the cottage, out of which issued little Dexter. "Ki, 3'i!'' said the boy- "Where are you bound for? That's a mighty fine horse you have. He beats my old skate all hollow. You had better come in and rest, and I'll take care of the horse, if you will let me ride him for ten minutes." The boy's hospitality was accepted, and in a few min- utes Jack was in the modest parlor, where he introduced himself to Mrs. Wythe, stating that his errand in that vicinity was to repair the telegraph wire. He Avas re- ceived with every evidence of hospitality, and soon sat down to a most homelike meal. Jack's quick eye took in the surroundings, and he marveled to see so manv evi- dences of refinement as were apparent on every side. Presently a youthful form entered the room, and Jack recognized the willowly figure which he had seen leap the fence so gracefully. "My daug'hter, Edith," said Mrs. Wythe, and the girl blushed like a peony. S'he had changed her dress, and was now attired in a simple but becoming gown. Jack smiled a little at the thought of the graceful leap he had seen her take a little while before, but he was lost in admiration of her sweet face and simple, artless manner. Her face was one that betokened rare intelli- gence. Her deep violet eyes were full of expression, and were an index to her character. As she flitted hither and thither arranging the table for dinner. Jack could not help thinking that the young lady's face and WHISKY FLAT. 43 form would have set the city belles wild with envy. Her hair had that indescribable hue that the Parisian woman is trying so hard to counterfeit, and which re- sembles very closely the color of a new t\vent}'-dollar gold piece. Her step was light and her hands small and shapel}'. Her face was slightly freckled, but this seemed to add to, rather than to detract from, ber beaut} . To Jack's surprise, she spread a white linen cover over tlie homely table and placed a boucjuet of sweet- brier roses in the center. A brisk conversation was kept up during the progress of the meal, and Jack learned that Miss Edith had never seen a steamboat, locomotive, nor had ever been away from Whisky Flat since she was two years old. Notwithstanding this, she was on familiar terms with the poets, could speak French cpiite fluently, and was a comparativeh' good Greek and Latin scholar. Fler aptittide for learning was great, and she seemed to absorb all book lore. The girl smiled deprecatingly as her mother recounted her accomplishments, and it was pleasant to observe her modest and unaffected demeanor. There seemed to be a great bond of sympathy between mother and daughter. Hamlin related how he was out repairing the line, and said that he wished there was a test office at \\ hisky Flat, for it would be a great help in similar cases of line trouble. He also said that there was no reason why Miss Edith could not learn enough of the art to be of material assistance: and if she were so disposed he would then and there teach her the alphabet, and if she had memorized it by the time he returned from repairing the trouble, he would leave her his pocJancisco, the address being in a lady's handwriting. He seemed to be very much perturbed upon reading the letter, and antiounced to the startled Edith that he was suddenly called to San Francisco and would be absent for a couple of weeks; but more than this he would not say. He left Gold Mountain that evening, never to return. Edith waited for a week without hearing from him, framing an excuse for him in her own mind, that he was "too busy" or that "the mails were irregular"; but as weeks grew into months, she began to have many mis- givings, and finally determined to go to San Francisco and find her recreant husband. Accordingly, a few days later she landed in California's metropolis. She had once, accidentally, overheard her husband tell a friend that he was \vell known at the hotel, and it was ihither that Edith bent her way. This was a new and disagreeable experience to this young woman, who could not understand why the clerk WHISKY FLAT. 51 looked at her so peculiarly; and why even the employes of the hotel acted familiarly with her. When she made inquiries for Percy Billing's, the clerk's manner became e\'en more ofifensive. She was told that he was stopping at the hotel, and would be in very soon; and a few hours later a meeting took place between Edith and her hus- band. He was furious to find her in San Francisco, and told her to return to her home ; that he did not want to see her any more ; and that he would absolutely have nothing to do with her. Surprised, asliamed, and mor- tified beyond measure, Edith repaired to her room, where slie spent an hour in writing a letter, which she posted; and then, going down to the wharf, purchased a ticket to Oakland. Just as the ferr)--bo'at Piedmont was passing Goat Islanfl on her way to Oakland, a little figure jumped from the side of the boat into the bay. The alarm was immediately given, the big steamer stopped, and a boat "Was put out into the dark water; but, owing to the in- tense darkness, the person could not be rescued. Several days later some fishermen discovered the body of a young woman near Oakland pier, and from articles in her pocketbook it was proven to be the remains of Edith Wythe. CHAPTER VI. Retribution. A year later a party of gay San I'ranciscans was spending the summer months at one of the lakes in the higli Sierras. Among the party was Percy Billings, g'av anfl blase as of old. The fate of Edith Wythe never seemed to have worried or made an impression upon him, and he had long since stopped giving 'her a thought. He was now pursuing his former vocation, that of a pro- fessional Efambler, for a livelihood. 52 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. The lake near 'by Which he was camping was one of those remarka'ble bodies of water found in the moun- tains of CaHfornia. It was fed by the snow from the Sierra Nevadas, having several inlets, but no visible out- let. Its depth was very great, and the water was so pure and its specific gravity so small, that it was impossible, to swim in it. A rowboat would sink to its gunwale with very little weight, and the Indians were afraid to ven- ture on this lake in their canoes, believing it possessed of the devil. There was a strong suction, which indi- cated that there must be a subterranean outlet at the bottom of the lake. A quiet, handsome-looking boy was about to take a boat out for a row one afternoon, when Percy Billings came strolling along. "Your name is Billings?" in- quired the boy. "Right you are," was the reply. Bill- ings was invited to take a seat in the boat, which he accepted, and very soon the twain were a quarter of a m'ile out on the bosom of the lake. It will never be known what was said by the boy to the man, nor just how it occurred, but the spectators on the shore heard cries from the boat and saw both men rise to their feet and clinch, upsetting the boat, and Percy Billings and Dexter Wythe went to the bottom of the lake. CHAPTER Vn. Desolation. The lonely wire passing Whisky Flat still hangs to the tamarack poles, but now no current is vibrating its metallic breast; its day of usefulness is over. The min- ing towns that it once connected have passed into de- WHISKY FLAT. 53 cadence. The spring still bubbles forth from the moun- tainside, refreshing the little garden as of old. An old man sits alone in the doorway. It is old Dick Wythe. He has returned from his long wanderings, and come home to rest and pass the remainder of his days at the old home where his wife and children spent so many happy years; but he has come too late. Yonder on the side of the hill, a short distance from the spring, can be seen two little mounds of earth, and there lie Mrs. Wythe and her daughter E'dith. Dexter's body was never found. It is wonderful what a little circumstance will change our destinies. It is passing strange that such a little occurrence as a half a dozen renegade Indians stealing a few feet of telegraph wire should convert this once happy home into such a scene of desolation. LOST OPPORTUNITIES. 1AAT not given to grieving ver)' much over what might have been," remarked a genial veteran of the key, "but were it not for a runaway stage-coach I should have been a millionaire twice over. I will tell you how it occurred : "I was the operator at Treasure Hill, Nevada, a very prosperous mining camp in the early '70s, and you can just bet that things were booming in those days. 1 was also express agent, and my salary amounted to $500 per month. iVEoney in those times was no good excepting to buy whisky and gamble with, and of course we used to roll things high. I made lots of money spec- ulating in mining stocks, and, being on the inside, I was generally pretty lucky. It was at a time when fortunes were made and lost, sometimes in a day, and so it was in my own case. Poles were poles in that countn,-, for there was not a vestige of timber in a radius of 100 miles of Treasure Hill, and our telegraph line was run on the tops of the sagebrush over half the distance from Carson. The wire always worked well, for it seldom rained or snowed here, and the ground was generally warm and dry. The only trouble that we experienced was in case of loose stock running afoul the wire, break- ing and dragging it for a long distance, but such in- stances were rare, and it seems a fatal coincidence that an occurrrence of this kind has kept me a poor man all these years. Strikes and rumors of strikes had been rampant on the Comstock lode, and each stock took its turn at going up and coming down frequently, like a skyrocket. The miners at the several points kept each other posted as well as they could of any expected rise; 56 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. and every one, women included, speculated as far as their means allowed them in the stock market. (!)ne evening- about lo P. M., a horseman drew up in our camp and was presently closeted with some of our wealthy mining men. An hour later they came to my office, and after whispered injunctions to me to 'keep it under the table,' I was informed that a big strike had been made in Crown Point, and it was expected to go up into the triple figures right away. Crown Point was selling for $4 a share at the closing afternoon sales, and, after scanning my balance of cash on deposit in my San I-'rancisco broker's hands, I ascertained that I could pur- chase 1,000 shares, and this I determined to do at once. My friends wrote out their orders to buy Crown Point stock, but, alas! I found that the wire was open. Not a bit of current could I detect, and I informed them of this fact. Of course I could not tell where the trouble was nor how soon it would be repaired, so the miners determined to start one of their number out to Diamond Springs, the next office, some forty miles away, but I decided to wait and send my order when the line came up. This was my fatal mistake. My friends managed to reach Diamond Springs and get their orders sent in long before the opening of the Board the following morning, and they paid from $3 to $4 per share for the stock. I waited patiently all tlie following day, and alxont 4 o'clock in the afternoon the line came 'O. K.,' nnd the first question I asked was for the closing price of Crown Point. 'There has been great excitement in Crown Point,' said the \'irginia City operator, _'and it closed at $450 a share.' My heart almost stopped beat- ing at this, for it was out of the question for me to LOST OPPORTUNITIES. 57 buy at this figure. The excitement continued, the stock jumping up $200 and $300 each day, and at the end of the week it had reached $2,000 a share. All of my friends sold out at this fig'ure, and I was the most dis- appointed man in Nevada. If I had gotten my order in for 1,000 shares, and realized $2,000 a share, I would have been twice a millionaire. This seemed to be the turning-point in my career, for after this I never seemed to have any more luck, and little by little my savings went, until I was left a poor man. The cause of the wire trouble was a runaway stage-coach, which tore the wire down for a long distance, breaking it in many places. I am more than convinced that Shakespeare was rigfht when he wrote: 'There is a tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune.' " And the veteran resumed his pipe and soliloquies. .^m ■"IIERE are but few characters in telegraph history like the hero of this sketch. He belonged to a class which is rapidly passing away, but who were of much service in cases of emergency. Few operators had brighter prospects than had Hank Cowan, Flis reputation as an operator was known all over the country. His "copy" was like a picture; he could take anything, and his wrist was like steel when he sent the overland report. "Hank" was a handsome fel- low; his only defect being a bad cut on his eyelid, which gave him rather a sinister expression, really en- tirel}- foreign to his nature. He possessed the kind- est of hearts, and never forgot a favor shown him. His only fault was in his fondness for red liquor, and on this account he was always getting into endless scrapes. Many and many a time did he bravely try to overcome this evil habit, only to succumb after two or three months of excellent behavior, when off he would go again to hunt up another position, only to repeat the same occurrence in the new field. There were many stories told about "Hank," but the}' were all good na- tured. for he was a man who would do no one a willful wrong. 59 60 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. There is an office in the West, where, on payday, the manager exacted the operators to stand in line, and he would go up and down the line handing the men their wages. "Hank," in his peregrinations, arrived at this place and put in two nights' work, which was a fact that seemed to have been overlooked by the manager. Cowan stood in line with the rest, till he saw that he was going to be neglected; then he sang out in his clear tenor voice, to the tune of a beautiful hymn : "Manager, manager, Hear my humble cry; While on others thou art smiling. Do not pass me by." The plaintive air and words won the heart of the man- ager, who settled up with him. It was somewhere about 'jj that "Hank" worked for the "A. & P." in Chicago. He could always get along with that company better than with any other, for they were more lenient with his shortcoimings. He secured board in a very nice part of the city, and was doing very well until one day he met some boon com- panions and became a participant in their riotousness. A'bout midnight he essayed to find his way home, but in his boozy condition "all houses looked alike to him." A good-natured policeman who knew him came along and undertook to escort him home. Presently they arrived at his abode, and the policeman took him up to the head of the stairs. "Whasher-name?" said Hank, who did not recognize his friend. "Never mind," replied the guardian of the night, "go in and go to bed now." "Noshir, I want (hie) to know (hie) your (hie) name (hie, hie)." "Well, my name is Paul," said the "PASS ME NOT." 61 watchman. "Paul, Paul?" said "Hank,'' retrospectively, as if trying to recall some image of the past. "I shay, Paul (hie), did you (hie) ever get a (hicj answer (hie) to that long letter (hie) that you wrote (hie) to the Ephe- sians (hie, hie)?" History has not recorded the policeman's reply, but these were Hank's last days in Chicago. A week later a postal card was received from Albu- querque, New Mexico, in Han1<'s well-known handwrit- ing, reading': "The bulls on the Cincinnati wire distress me. T think that I will quit. F'lease accept my resignation. Hank Cowan." WELCOMING THE PRESIDENT. VIRGINIA CITY, Nevada, was a bustling town in the year 1879. The amount of telegraph business done at this point was large, and the operators employed were the flower of the profession. There were not many social inducements to keep men there, but there was a spirit of freedom and bonhonmie always manifested 'by the residents of this gold region that could never be experienced elsewhere. Every opportunity was taken to break the monotony of life in this mining camp, and generally the calendar was scanned in advance to see what would be the next day to celebrate. It was no wonder then that the boys in the Western Union office hailed with delight the visit to Virginia City of President Wm. (Jrton, of the Western Union Telegraph Company, accompanied by General Anson Stager. Mr. Orton had been in failing health for some time, and the trip to the Pacific coast was taken with a view to recuperation. The news had been heralded from (3maha, Che)'enne and Salt Lake City, giving the itinerary of the party and indicating that the several managers along the route were doing all in their power to entertain the noted visi- tors. Eugene H. Sherwood, well known to the profession all over the country as "Sherry," was at that time an operator in the Virginia City office. He was full of pranks, and always ready for a lark, so he determined to have a little fun on the occasion of the contemplated visit. Yes, he had made up his mind to receive the ])art\' in true Western style, and in a way that they would not soon forget. He acquainted the worthy man- ager of the coming event, and requested that $20 be 63 64 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. donated for the purpose of "fixing up" the ofSce. The modest demand was readily compHed with, and "Sherry" was appointed a committee of tlie whole to decorate the office according to his own best judgment. Here was a chance for a first-class frolic, and "Sherry" was quick to improve it. A troupe of British blondes and high kickers had visited the city recently, and left as a reminder their Venus-like pictures and forms in tiie usual grotesque attitudes on the dead walls throughout the city. Accom- panied by a sable companion, "Sherry" carefully took down all of this paper, and a few hours later these fairy figures were gracing the walls of the operating-room. Next, Captain Sam, of the Piute tribe, was interviewed, and he soon made a bargain to produce seven braves, squaws and papooses, together with himself, at six bits a head, all to be on hand the following morning at the office, there to welcome the "great father of the wire- graph." A nurriber of Indian dogs and curios to be in this retinue were included in the contract with Captain Sam. Sundry guns and small arms and old boots, with a number of miners' picks, shovels, and other imple- ments, were borrowed from the Miners' Union, to lend a business efifect to the adornments of the office. So quiet- ly and efifectively was this wiork planned and executed that the said worthy manager had no suspicion of what was going on. Mr. Orton and party arrived about lo A. M., and, accompanied by General Stager and Superin- tendent Frank Bell, of the Nevad' district, repaired at once to the telegraph office. Superintendent Bell was particularly proud of this office; not so much, however, for elaborateness of its furnishings (which did not exist). WELCOMING THE PRESIDENT. 65 as for the great revenue that the company derived from it. It was, therefore, with an important air that he led the procession up the stairway and into the operating- room. He was the first to enter, and his eye took in at a glance the situation, and he was for a moment speechless with consternation and surprise. General Stager had a mischievous twinkle in his eye as he viewed the startling effect of "Sherry's" work. Turning to Mr. Orton, he smilingly whispered a few words, and both of the gentlemen entered immediately into the spirit of the fun. President Orton was introduced to all of the operators, and to each he spoke pleasantly for a few moments, inquiring where each 'belonged and their pros- pects, present and future. His kindly face and pleasant talk won the hearts of all the employes, and it is possible that "Sherry" had some little compunction for the un- usual mode of reception. Captain Sam and his braves were in turn introduced to the guests, and in true Indian fashion asked for "four bitta" to remember him by. Each of the Indians received a silver piece, and the guests took their departure, thus ending a very pleasant episode. "Sherry" greatly enjoyed the result of his "en- tertainment," but he could see from the look of chagrin on the face of Superintendent Bell that a day of reckon- ing was bound to come. Messrs. Orton and Stager left for San Francisco the same evening, and all of the em- ploves that could do so went down to the depot to bid them good-bye. Mr. Bell took the party to California, and on his return interviewed the doughty "Sherry," who was prepared for the worst. "I had intended to discharge you," said Mr. Bell, "and I told Mr. Orton so, but he would not listen to it, 5 WELCOMING THE PRESIDENT. 67 and insisted that he enjoyed his reception at the Virginia City office more than at any other point on the route; and that, instead of discharging the promoter of the en- tertainment, I should graht him tliirty days' vacation with full pay." This was a happy and unlooked-for denouement to the reception, and endeared President Orton more than ever to the little band of operators. It was not long after- ward that these same wires, that had told of President r)rton's journeyinig, conveyed the news ol his untimely demise, followed soon after by that of General Stager; and no one regretted it more than the warm-hearted boys of the \"irginia City office. "Sherry" is now at Fremont, Ohio. Time and mis- fortune have not changed his dauntless and cheerful spirit; and to any visitor to his native town he will re- count better than I have done how he welcomed the president to Nevada's metropolis. "WHAT'S 'ATIN' YOU?" 1r WILL be interesting to the telegraphic fraternity to know that one of their craft is responsible for a number of so-called slang expressions and quaint savings in daily usage, although the author crossed the River Styx many j'ears ago. James P. Dood}' was his name, and, as an operator, he ranked as a constellation by himself. Born of Irish parents, he had imbibed the true appreciation of the iiumorous for which that race is noted, and his life was apparently one huge and constant joke. He was well and favorably known in New Orleans, Memphis, and throughout the South generally, and during his tele- graphic career he had traveled far and wide, always leaving some very pleasant remembrance behind him. He took much pride in his profession, and to him is ac- credited the saying: "Once an operator, always a gen- tleman." "What's atin' you" is a very inelegant expression, and Jim seems to have been responsible for its introduction into polite society. He was working in Omaha at one time, and the late H. C. Maynard, of Chicago, was send- ing "C. U. B." to him. The wire was working hard, and Tim had to break a good deal. This seemed to vex the sender, who ejaculated a little petulantly, "What's the 'iS' with vou?" (which means, in telegraphic par- lance. What is the matter with you?). Jim quickly re- torted: "What's atin' you?" Some of the boys in the Chicag'o ofifice overheard the remark by Mr. Maynard and Jim's rejoinder, and almost immediately the phrase came into common usage among the operators of Chicago. The wires soon conveyed the 69 70 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. expression to the remotest parts of the countr}'. until now it is not an uncommon thing to hear an Indian in Southern CaHfornia assert his indignation by asking, "What's atin' you?" One hears, very often, the expression, "I'll do it — ■ nit," and would hardly think that Professor Morse's alphabet, purposely mutilated, m&de it possible to give birth to such a meaningless expression. Everybody knows that the letter "i" in telegraphic characters is rep- resented by two dots, thus: ". ."; and that the letter "o" is a dot, space and dot, thus : " . . '' Jim Doody, with his extravagant love for some- thing new and odd, instead of replying to a question over the wire, "I cannot," or "I will not," would substitute in- tentionally an "i" for an "o." and say, "I cannit," or "I will nit." This was taken up by the railroad operators too; they in turn communicated it to the train hands, who, always ready and eager for something new, took it up and passed it along, until now one's ears are tor- tured by hearing it on every side. Even the negro min- strel seems to have found something ridiculously funny in Jim's idle remark, for there is an alleged joke going the rounds telling of a man who seeemingly had no afifec- tion for his mother-in-law and was rebuked by his wife, who said: "Why, Charlie, mamma thinks a great deal of you. Just see her over there now in her room knitting a pair of stockings for you.'' To this Charlie sarcastically replies: "Yes, I like to see my mother-in-law — knit." Many another slang saying originated in the fertile brain of Jim Doody. Some fell by the wayside and were speedily choked up, but the fcAv that I have men- -WHAT'S 'ATIN' YOU?" 71 tioncil seem to liave fallen on good ground, for their spirit still goes marching on. Bright, genial characters like Jim Doody are not met with every day, and their friendship and acquaint- ance do much to break and brighten the dull monotony of life and teach us to believe that "A little nonsense, now and then, Is relished bv the best of men." PIONEER AND MODERN TELEGRAPHY ON THE PACIFIC COAST. PRIOR to the year 1857, the science of signalling by teleg'raph in all the vast country north of California was confined to the very primitive method of campfires, so generally in vogue from time immemorial among the North Aimerican Indians. There was no "wig-wagg- ing" or "telegraphing from balloons" in time of war in those days, but the gently ascending smoke of the fir tree, b)' da}', or the sight of its flame by night, discerni- ble a score of miles away, was among the tactics adopted by the early settlers as well as b}' the aborigines them- selves. When the news reached the '49ers in this part of the country of the exploits of the telegraph, the same being told by later comers to this country, the stories were generally discredited. Later on the enterprising newspapers of San Francisco received, contained a few hundred words of telegraph news from the East each day, but even this was not sufficient to satisfy the doubt- ing ones, who could not conceive how it was possible to send letters and words over an inanimate piece of iron. It was not until the year 1857 that a practical demonstration was made, when Messrs. Johnson and Robertson, two sound-operators, arrived in Portland and began soliciting subscriptions to build a line to Califor- nia. Thev met with some success in raising funds and built a line through the dense woods up the Willamette vallev as far as Dayton, Oreg'on; but at that point their funds and enthusiasm gave out simultaneously, and the enterprise was abandoned. Two years later a more de- termined efifort was made by J. E. Strong to build a 73 74 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. line to connect the City of Portland with the California Telegraph Company, w^hich then had for its northern terminus Yreka, in Siskiyou county, California, and which at that time was famous as a mining camp. This line was completed to Eugene, Oregon, a dis- tance of 125 miles, and there work was suspended and practically abandoned, owing to the loss of the ship Ben Holladay, which had on board the wire and other ma- terial for the completion of the line to Yreka, off the coast of Chili. In 1863 "Commodore" R. R. Haines, now manager of the Postal Telegraph Cable Company, at Los Angeles, Cal., was selected by Colonel James Gamble to prosecute the building of the line from Eu- gene, south to meet the California line. It is due to the Commodore's energy and intrepidity that the line was completed the following February. The wire used was number 9 in size, and the insulators were of the crudest and most primitive character. The country most all of the way is densely wooded, and the wire was to a large extent attached to timber. Dr. O. P. S. Plummer, now a practicing physician of Portland, was the first manager of the Portland office. The doctor was a crack operator in those days, and could read more that "didn't come" than any operator in the country. He had been working the "overland'' at San Francisco when the late James H. Guild, for so many years superintendent of the Oregon Railroad & Naviga- tion Telegraph System, was operator at Carson City, Nevada. For the first six months of the doctor's admin- istration in Portland, he was manager, operator, line- man and messenger. People soon got acquainted with the telegraph, and notwithstanding the exorbitant rates PIONEER AND MODERN TELEGRAPHY. 75 a very good business was clone. The rate from Portland to San Francisco was $3.00 for ten words, and $1.25 for each additional five words or fraction thereof. The rate to New York was $8.50 for ten words, and 75 cents for each additional word. About this time there was a strong speculation in mining stocks, and the telegraph began to reap a golden harvest. More operators and other assistants were soon emplo)'ed, and Portland be- came a leading factor in the California State telegraph system. There was but little growth to the country or to the telegraph in Oregon up to 1882, when the writer first came here. One through v^'ire to San Francisco, one way wire part of the way, and a railroad wire froin Port- land to Roseburg was practically the eritire system. North of Portland was one lonely little wire which crossed the river at Vancouver, Washington, on a cable, and passed throug*h a thick jungle following the Columbia River as far as Kalama, Washington. At this point there was a set of repeaters, and here is where the line branched off to Astoria on the west, and Seattle, Tacoma and Vic- toria on the north. When Portland wished to send to Astoria, the north was cut ofif, and vice versa, so that all the telegraphic facilities that the territory of Wash- irLgton had in 1882 w'as practically one-half of a wire, and that was amply sufficient for all purposes. An offi- cial of the Western Union Telegraph Co. remarked to me about this time that if all the country north of Cali- fornia could 'be eliminated from that system, the com- pany would be a great gainer thereby. During this period Henr}^ Villard was quietly prose- cuting his Northern Pacific Railroad scheme, and the 76 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. eyes of Eastern capitalists were being turned yearn- ingly toward the great Pacific Northwest. Railroad and telegraph lines were being built in every direction, many paralleling each other, and telegraphic affairs were boom- ing. Much capital was brought into the country, and many fortunes were made, and I might add, parenthet- ically, as many were lost in this mad rush. The Port- land office assumed metropolitan airs, and it became very soon the mecca for many a globe-trotting artist of the key. Many have basked in the gentle showers for which Oregon is so noted, and have gone away to tell the story to others, but many have remained and are sin- cere in their statements that "there is no country like it." From the nucleus of less than 500 miles of pole line and 1,000 miles of wire in Oregon in 1882, we have today over 2,270 miles of pole line, 6,260 miles of wire. About the spring of '87 there was a rumor of a rival company entering the field, but no credit was given to it, as it hardly seemed possible that an opposition company would defy the frowns of the dreaded Rockies and the uninviting appearance of the Bad Lands to come out this long distance to compete with the older com- pany. But the appearance of Mr. Henry Rosener ac- companied by Colonel A. B. Chandler about this time confirmed the report. The company prosecuted their work very vigorously under the direction of Messrs. Stronach, Atchison and Robeson, all expert line con- structors. The new company was seriously handicapped for quite a long time by its meager facilities, but its advent was \varnily welcomed b}' fhe business men oS the Coast, who gave the new enterprise a g'oodly share of PIONEER AND MODERN TELEGRAPHY. 77 patronage. Now, however, they have outgrown their swadd'hng clothes, and are as businesshke and preten- tions as even their older contemporary. The total number of people depending upon the tele- graph for a livelihood seventeen years ago in this state was less than fifty, but now there is an army of at least 5,000 pursuing telegraphic, telephonic and other elec- trical avocations. The entire system is new and strictly up to date. Although the telegraphic facilities were very meager during the latter '60s, the vast country west of Salt Lake City, operated by the Western Union Telegraph Co., which is administered now so ably by Mr. Frank Jaynes, superintendent at San Francisco, was then di- vided into five districts, all under Colonel James (Gam- ble, of San Francisco. Frank Bell was superintendent for the State of Ne- vada, and he had for his coadjutor the late Peter H. Lovell, who had charge of the White Pine line. This was a single-wire line that had been erected prior to the building of the Central Pacific Railroad, and which had for its ramifications many erstwhile prosperous mining camps which today are as completely wiped ofT the map of the "Silver State" as if they never had existed. Commodore R. R. Haines was the superintendent of the Southern California and Arizona district, which ex- tended from the Mojave Desert on the north, to Tucson. Arizona, in the east. Dr. O. P. S. Plummer was the superintendent of the Oregon district; General F. H. Lamb was superintend- ent for Washington Territory and British Columbia, while Frank Jaynes looked out for Central California. 78 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. business, but in easv to concen- It would seem at iirst tliought that there was a super- abundance of ofificials for the comp'any's facilities and those days it was not so trate and handle such a dis- trict as it is today. There were no railroads in those times, and communication by steamer was very irreg- ular and uncertain. The company recognized the mportant fact that when the line was down the receipts stopped and the expenses began; and the five gentlemen selected as super- intendents were each eminently cjualified for the position, as is evi- denced by the stories that are often told, to this day, of their hardships and exploits in their respective dis- tricts. A superintendent in those days did not have a "snap." There were no chief clerks, claim clerks, error clerks, stenographers, or any other such co- terie of assistants that lighten the burdens of the modern super- intendent, but a prac- tical knowledge of dots and dashes, and the ability to climb a pole were the qualifications and requirements essential to a successful superintendent. PIONEER AND MODERN TELEGRAPHY. 79 The telegraph in Oregon has had its quaint as well as its useful side, but prdbably the funniest and most daring- message that ever passed between a president and a governor (although the occurrence took place several _vears ago, it is still fresh in the minds of many) was during the Coxie exodus. President Cleveland wired Governor Pennoyer some move relative to the militia, ^Vhich called for the following terse but pointed telegram : Salem, Oregon, June lo, 1893. Grover Cleveland, Washington, D. C.: You mind your business and Pll mind mine. S\ Ivester Pennoyer, Governor. BILLY McGINNISS' "WAKE." SOME years ago a queer character named "Billy" McGinniss had charge of a section on one of our Western railroads. The original name of the sta- tion where he was located was "Hell-to-Pay," and it was Icnown by that name for a long time ; but with the com- pletion of the railroad and the issuing of maps and time- cards, it was deemed advisable to change it to the more euphonious name of Eltopia. Bill_v was Irish by birth, and he had a strong love for his native land, and it was with much chagrin that he found that his section men were all Germans, with not a single man from his own beloved country. He was somewhat of an operator, having 'had for his tutor the irrepressible "Dick" TubmarT, who was oper- ator at the "front" during the construction of the road. And so it happened that Billy McGinniss would fill his subordinates with awe when he occasionally invited one or two of them in to see him "touch the wire to Yaki- ma." Billy was a hard taskmaster, and he made it a point to see that his sturdy laborers did not "sojer" with their work. He had the reputation of getting more work out of his men than any other section foreman on the road. He gloried in this record, but his men cordially disliked him and his driving methods. The end came one dav when Billy was laid low with a fever, and he expressed his conviction that Inis last hour had arrived. He called in his most trusty man, and to him he detailed his last wishes. The estate was not large, and, after sundry bequests, he devised that the sum of $50 should be used for the purpose of holding a wake. Billy's last 82 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. rt-ques: was that this money should be spent in whisky, beer, cigars, pipes, tobacco and sandwiches, and that his section men trather around his remains and "wake" him ^^^ iv urA," BILLY McGINNISS' '■WAKE.' 83 in the true "ould countrae" style. There were no other inhabitants excepting these German section men in this wild and lonely place, and the refreshments had to come from Spokane. Billy died as he had expected, and the section men proceeded in a conscientious manner to fulfil! the last wishes of the departed. Pipes were filled, and beer and whisky glasses clinked merrily as the mourners drank "Ge soon tight" to Billy. They would fill their glasses and then walk over to where the corpse was laid out, and, mournfully shaking their heads, would solemnly drain the contents, and then proceed to refill their pipes. It is said to be the custom on occasions of this kind to recount the good deeds of the deceased and to bewail his demise, but, tr\- as hard as they might, the Germans coulcl not recall a single noble deed that they could conmiend. This fact seemed to smite their consciences, for the men did not think that it was quite right to par- lake of Billy's hospitality and not even say a good word to JTis memory. A liberal libation finally quickened the heavv brain of the Teutonics, and at a signal from their leader each replenished his glass and gathered around iJie bier, assuming a grotesque, mournful air. Gazing at Bill}'s countenance, every trace of past resentment seemed to disappear as the spokesman ejaculated: "Veil, k'illv vas a goot schmoker, anyvav." A MESSENGER BOY'S TRIP TO LONDON. IT WAS midnight in the City of San Francisco, and that gay metropolis was aHve with pleasure-seekers returning home from the various places of amuse- ment for which that city is far famed. In the district messenger office on Sutter street, near Kearney, messenger No. 47, known to the force as "Chicken," had just gotten back from a "dig" to the Pre- sidio. "Chicken" had returned but a few minutes when a richly attired lady entered the office, accompanied by a 4-year-old girl, and asked the clerk to let her engage the brightest messenger on the force. No. 47 was called, and the lady looked at him with a critical eye, and, apparently satisfied with her inspec- tion, said: "I have a very important mission to send you on, and money is no object in this matter. I was on my way to Australia with my little daughter here, and I was to leave tomorrow, but this afternoon I received a cablegram, advising me to return to London or send my little girl home, as much depended on it. It is impossible for me to go, as I have engaged a stateroom for tomor- row's steamer for Australia, leaving here at 8:20 A. M., and I want to send my daughter by you to London, Eng- land, with tomorrow night's train. "I will pay you well for your trouble, and we will now proceed to figure up the expense. The fare to New York, including meals and sleeping berths, will not exceed $150 — we will call it $200. Now, you will require some new clothes and a trunk, say $100 more. For your expenses across the Atlantic and back I will allow $400. Then your return fare to San Francisco, $200 more, 85 86 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. and, let me see — your time, and an extra fee for good service: say, altogether, $i,ooo. I will give you a check- tor that amount now, and I will expect you to start for London bv tomorrow night's train." "Chicken" was surprised and delighted with the an- ticipated trip and with the very liberal fee that he was to receive, and the more he thought of it, the greater was his joy. The lady figured with the clerk how much "Chick- en's" time would amount to for a month, and generously handed over a check for $ioo for the boy's services. After kissing the little girl good-by, and cautioning the boy to be careful with his charge, the lady departed, and "Chicken'' took the cars for his home, accompanied by the little girl. Arriving there. "Chicken" imparted to his father his good luck. The old gentleman, however, was a close iig- nrer, and he saw an opportunity of purchasing the cor- ner grocery store on which he had had his eye for a long time. He scouted the idea that the boy needed any new clothes, and asserted that a tourist sleeper was good enough for any one, and that a basket or two of provisions were all the meals necessary for the boy and his charge. A steerage passage across the ocean would be a picnic for the boy, and $150 would cover all the ex- penses of the trip, thus leaving him the balance to pur- chase the grocery store. "Chicken" hardly liked the turn that affairs had taken, but he feared his father's ire and resolved to make the best of it. Bright and early the next day father and son were up, and long before banking hours thev were down town. A MESSENGER BOY'S TRIP TO LONDON. S7 T liL-y stiippcd en route at Spear-street wharf, and there "Chiclassengcrs and emploNcs. "Ikey" 131 132 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. was ven' careful never to start his shouting until he was sure that he was perfectly safe. But one day he caught a Tartar. Jack Hamlin was a dispatcher for the Southern Pa- cific road, and, being fond of hunting and fishing, he determined to spend his summer vacation in the Shasta Valley; so it occurred that one very warm day in July found him at the desolate little station known on the map as "Hornbrook."' He had come in from his fish- ing grounds to post a letter on the afternoon California express train. Jack was attired in a neat buckskin suit, affecting the true cowboy style. A rather rakish-look- ing hat adorned his curly head, and a Colt's revolver, stuck in a cartridge belt, made him appear a typical man of the mountain. Jack was a handsome fellow, full of courage, and would not brook an insult from anv one. It was on this day that "Ike)'" Exstein was making his usual semi-monthly trip to San Francisco, and he was probably a little more than ordinarily hilarious. Sta- tion after station that he had passed during the day had witnessed his tirade, and when he beheld Jack Hamlin standing alone at Hornbrook, he was impatient to have the train start so that he might roast the "cowboy." As the train pulled out, "Ikey" gave a yell to attract Jack's attention, and then shouted: "Oh. see the cowpoy! Say, you ain't a cowpoy! I know you, and you are a horse- thief! You yust escaped from San Quentin!" These were a few of the epithets that Hamlin heard. He could not understand it at first, but it dawned on him that he was being insulted, and his 'hand sought his hip pocket; but "Ikey," seeing the move, dodged inside the door, where, with still ruder grimaces and shouting, he urged THE COWBOY DISPATCHER, ]33 the "cow-boy" to shoot. A sudden thought seemed to inspire Jack, for he started on a run in pursuit of the train, which was now going- at a Hvel\' speed. This action provoked the most uproarious Liughter from the joker, wlio now cried out: "See that cowpoy trying to catch the train that goes to San Franceesco!" Jack kept after the train, wliich presently whistled for "down brakes." A brakeman appeared on the rear end, and 134 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. the now anxious "Ikey" asked. "Vot is the matter.-'" He was told tliat the train was a'ljout to back into a sid- ing to allow the northbound train to pass. "Ike)'" in- voluntaril}- exclaimed: "Und the cowpoy is coming!" Negotiations were made in vain, with the several port- ers and train hands, to hide him, pending the arrival and departure of the Northern train, and finally "Ikey" took refuge in the undesirable portion of the train known as the "blind baggage," where he remained till after the train had started again on its Southern journey, when he left it, coming into the smoker, where he almost fell into the arms of the "cowboy." Jack was serene and placid as his right hand played carelessly with his re- volver. Ike)' was speechless with fright, and tried to mumble out an apology, but the words came slowly and incoherently. "Don't be mad, Mr. Cowpoy!" he ejacu- lated; "dees vas von of my leetle shokes." Gathering a little courage from Jack's smiling face, he continued: "You see, I travel so much und I get very tired und I likes to have some fun. Dees vas yust von of my leetle shnkes, und I didn't mean anytings py it." He further protested that he had never seen the "cowboy" in San Ouentin or any other place, and 'his apologies were heart- rendingly painful. Jack musingly said: "Oh, it was only a 'shoke,' was it? Well, I am glad of that, for if I thought that you meant it, I would have to kill you," aird he playfully toyed with his gun. Again and again Ilcey denied that he had intended an insult, and de- clared over and over that it was "yust a leetle shoke." After inquiring his name and business, and listening to further protestations from the very much frightened Exstein, (ack remarked: "Well, now let's see! The THI- CclWTiOY DISPATCH RR. 1?,5 fare I've mi 1 lornlMool.; In Sisson's is S3.00; return triji is the same: hotel expenses; laeeratimi nl feehnq's — sav, al- together, ."pJO.oo. \'inn- 'leetle shol;e' will eost xdu just S20.OO. " He g'laneeil nienacingU' at liis cartridge belt, and lk'e\' lost no time in ])rodneing the goldpieee. "Now, come with me," said Jack-, and leading tlic way they started back to the Ptillman. In passing through the totn-ist car Jack noticed a poorly attired woman with a vonng babe. He asked the porter if he knew wliether she was in poor circumstances. That functionary re- plied: "^'es, boss, she nuieousl>- apjiroach- 136 TALES OF THE SIERRAS. ing the lady, Jack g-racefuUy lifted his hat and said: "I have just found a twenty-dollar goldpiece a-rolling up hill, and I have no use for it. Will you allow me to present it to you?^" The offer was thankfully accepted, and the money was deposited in the poor woman's hand, much to Ikey's chagrin. Arriving at the Pullman car, Exstein was compelled to apologize to the passengers for his boorish behavior, promising never again to in- dulge in such unseemlv conduct. The overland train still makes its daily trips between Portland and San Francisco, and Mr. Ikey Exstein makes his regular semi-occasional pilgrimages over the road, but his familiar face and figure are never seen any more on the back platform of the Pullman sleeper. His lesson was salutary and complete. it^jAv*. -yxetw^ ^ >«ww