1. CHAPTER I.
MY brother had just been appointed Secretary of Nevada
Territory—an office of such majesty that it concentrated in itself
the duties and dignities of Treasurer, Comptroller, Secretary of
State, and Acting Governor in the Governor's absence. A salary of
eighteen hundred dollars a year and the title of "Mr. Secretary,"
gave to the great position an air of wild and imposing grandeur. I
was young and ignorant, and I envied my brother. I coveted his
distinction and his financial splendor, but particularly and
especially the long, strange journey he was going to make, and the
curious new world he was going to explore. He was going to
travel! I never had been away from home, and that word "travel"
had a seductive charm for me. Pretty soon he would be hundreds
and hundreds of miles away on the great plains and deserts, and
among the mountains of the Far West, and would see buffaloes and
Indians, and prairie dogs, and antelopes, and have all kinds of
adventures, and may be get hanged or scalped, and have ever such
a fine time, and write home and tell us all about it, and be a hero.
And he would see the gold mines and the silver mines, and maybe
go about of an afternoon when his work was done, and pick up two
or three pailfuls of shining slugs, and nuggets of gold and silver on
the hillside. And by and by he would become very rich, and return
home by sea, and be able to talk as calmly about San Francisco and
the ocean, and "the isthmus" as if it was nothing of any
consequence to have seen those marvels face to face. What I
suffered in contemplating his happiness, pen cannot describe. And
so, when he offered me, in cold blood, the sublime position of
private secretary under him, it appeared to me that
the heavens and the earth passed away, and the firmament was
rolled together as a scroll! I had nothing more to desire. My
contentment was complete.
At the end of an hour or two I was ready for the journey. Not
much packing up was necessary, because we were going in the
overland stage from the Missouri frontier to Nevada, and
passengers were only allowed a small quantity of baggage apiece.
There was no Pacific railroad in those fine times of ten or twelve
years ago—not a single rail of it.
I only proposed to stay in Nevada three months—I had no
thought of staying longer than that. I meant to see all I could that
was new and strange, and then hurry home to business. I little
thought that I would not see the end of that three-month pleasure
excursion for six or seven uncommonly long years!
I dreamed all night about Indians, deserts, and silver bars, and
in due time, next day, we took shipping at the St. Louis wharf on
board a steamboat bound up the Missouri River.
We were six days going from St. Louis to "St. Jo."—a trip that
was so dull, and sleepy, and eventless that it has left no more
impression on my memory than if its duration had been six
minutes instead of that many days. No record is left in my mind,
now, concerning it, but a confused jumble of savage-looking
snags, which we deliberately walked over with one wheel or the
other; and of reefs which we butted and butted, and then retired
from and climbed over in some softer place; and of sand-bars
which we roosted on occasionally, and rested, and then got out our
crutches and sparred over.
In fact, the boat might almost as well have gone to St. Jo. by land,
for she was walking most of the time, anyhow—climbing over reefs
and clambering over snags patiently and laboriously all day long.
The captain said she was a "bully" boat, and all she wanted was
more "shear" and a bigger wheel. I thought she wanted a pair of
stilts, but I had the deep sagacity not to say so.