Storyteller.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 3, 15 April 1893, Page 13

Storyteller.

YANKEE JIM. One scorching afternoon in July, 185-, the Hangtown stage creaked slowly cfver the plank roadway forming the principal street of Sacramento City, finally coming to a full stop in front of the El Dorado hotel. It had not exactly stopped before the usual knot of idlers were collected to stare, as the v had done year in and year out, at the dozen or so dust-begrimed passengers who ahgnted, and aa ho began thrashing themselves like men who had been out in a heavy fall of snow, instead of having just finished the hottest and .dustiest sixty miles of road in America. This particular stage usually made connection with the day boat for “The Bay,” as San Francisco was universally termed in the interior; but on this occasion it had come in too late by an horn- at least, and the boat was consequently at that moment twenty miles down the river. Upon learning’ this disagreeable piece' of intelligence, the belated travellers scattered, grumbling at the detention, which each took good care to explain could never have been worse timed or inconvenient to himself than upon this-particular afternoon. One traveller, however, stood apparently nonplussed by the situation for a moment or two longer, until his eye caught the word “ Bank,” in big golden letters, staling at him’ from the opposite side of the street. He crossed over, read it again from the curo-stone, and then shambled in at the door. He knew not why, hut once within, he felt a strange desire to get put again as quickly as possible. But this secret admonition passed unheeded. Before him was a counter, extending across the room, at the back of which was a solid wall of brick. Within this was built the bank vault, the’ iron door of which being half opened discovered bags of coin .piled' upon the floor, and shelves from which the dull glitter of gold-dust caught the visitor’s eye directly. _ The middle of the counter was occupied by a pair of tall scales of beautiful workmanship, in which dust was weighed, while on a table behind it were trays containing gold and silver coins. A young man, who was writing and smoking* at the same time, looked up when the door opened to admit the person of whom wo were speaking. To look at the two .men, one would have said that it was the bank,clerk who might be expected to feel the presentiment of evil. Really the other was half bandit in appearance. In the solitary individual who had just entered the bank we shall describe not one man only, but a type of the thousands who, like migratory ants,

passed and repassed the great highways leading to the mines of the Golden ' State. He was a bronzed, bearded, and weather beaten fellow, dressed in a faded woollen shirt, pantaloons secured at the hips by a belt, and tucked loosely within a pair of miner’s boots, a broad-rimmed felt hat that had been hastily crushed upon his head, with a pea jacket dangling from his left shoulder like the short cloak of an ancient cattle drover. The haft of a bowie-knife protruded, ready to be grasped, from his belt; and when he walked a big “ six-shooter” flapped against his hip at every step. The man seemed a walking arsenal; but had the welldressed young person behind the counter been searched, a/‘ Derringer ■would have been found in his pocket, while a revolver lay convenient to his hand, underneath the counter. Although he was alone and unnoticed, yet the stranger’s manner was _ undeniably nervous and suspicious. Addressing the cashier, he disjointed!}' said : "1 say, mister, this yer boat s left, can't got to ’Frisco afore tomorrow V” (inquiringly). That’s so, * the cashier'assented. . “Well,” continued the'miner, “ hero’s my fix ; hound home for the States (dropping his voice) “ got two thousand stowed aw a} - ; don’t know alive fellow in this yer burg, and might got knifed afore morning In some fandango.- See?’’

“ That’s so,” repeated the unmoved official. Then, seeing that his customer had come to an end, he said, “ I reckon you want to deposit your money with us ?” “ That’s the how of it, stranger. Lock fit up tight whar I kin come for it to-morrow.” “ Down with the dust, then,” observed the cashier, taking the pen from behind his ear and preparing to write; hut seeing his customer throw a wary glance right and left, he beckoned him to a more retired part of the bank, where the depositor very coolly divested himself of his shirt, in each corner of which five fifty dollar “ slugs ” were knotted. An equal sum in dust was then produced from a buckskin belt, all of which Avas received Avithout the least . comment upon the ingenuity Avith which it had been concealed. A certificate in due form was then made out, specifying that James Wildes had deposited with the “ Mutual Confidence and Trust Company,” subject to his order, tAvo thousand dollars. Glancing at the scrap of crisp paper as ,if hardly comprehending lioav it could he an epuivalent for his precious heap of coin and dust upon the counter, Jim heaved a deep sigh of relief, then crumplinghis certificate tightly within his big fist, he exclaimed —“ Thar ; I kin eat and sleep now, I reckon. Blamed if ever I kneAv afore Avhat a coAA’ard a rich man Avas !” He then started for the door, hesitated, came back to the counter, and asked the clerk, in a confidential tone—“l say, Avhat might be the valley of that buzzum-pin of yourn P The old Avoman at home might like some kind of a trinket, you knoAv.” The clerk eyed the questioner sharply, carried his hand hastily to the diamond cluster flashing in his shirt front, .and said, shortly, “ Sixty ounces.” Jim miA’e a long’ whistle, and Avent out in search of a night’s lodging. Our man, avlio had acquired among his felloAV miners the .nickname of Li Yankee Jim,” had been a sailor before the mast. W hen the ship s anchor touched the bottom, ho with his shipmates started at once for the “ diggings,” Avhero he had toiled for two years Avith varying luck, but found himself at last in possession of Avhat Avould be called adittle fortune in his native toAvn. We see him now returning, filled with the hope of a happy meeting Avith the Avife anachildren he had left behind. But Avhile Yankee Jim sept soundly, and dreamed blisfully of pouring ’ golden eagles into Jane’s lap, his destiny Avas being fulfilled. ’The great financial storm of 185— burst upon the State unheralded. Like a thief in the night the pne fatal Avord passed over the AA’ires that shut the door of every bank, and made the boldest turn pale. Suspension Avas followed by panic, panic by. ruin and disfhay. Yankee Jim Avas only an atom swalloAved up in the general and overwhelming disaster of that day. In the morning’ he went early to the bank, to find it shut fast; and an excited and threatening crowd surging to and fro before the doors. Men Avith haggard faces Averc talking and gesticulating Avildly. Women Avere Aveeping and Avringing their Hands. A sudden faintness came over him. What could it all mean ? Mustering courage to put the question to a bystander, he was told to look and read for himself. Tavo ominous Avords, “ Bank closed,” were posted on the front of the building. For a moment the pool 1 felloAV could not seem to take in the full meaning of the'calamity that had fallen like a thunderbolt from a clear sky ; but as it daAvned upon him that his little fortune Avas SAvept away for ever, and Avith it the hopes that had opened to his delighted fancy, the blood rushed to''his brain, and his face grew purple. Then he fell back in a fit, deprived of sense or motion. The first Avord he articulated Avh.enhecame to himself Avas“Home.” Some kind souls paid his passage to San Francisco, Avhere the sight of the blue Avater, and of the big ships gallantly riding at their anchors, seemed to reA’ive him a little. Wholly possessed of his one idea of getting home, ho shipped on board the next

home-hound steamer, going about liis duty -like a man half stunned, and who sees, -without comprehending, what is passing round him. The sailing of a homeward bound steamship was one of the, events of those days. To say that the -whole city , turned out to witness, or rather, to assist at, her departure, would hardly be an exaggeration. On board, all -was bustle ( and hilarity. On shore, jests and good-byes popped like champagne corks. n . My own knowledge of the cruet actor in this history began at four o’clock in the morning of the third day out from port. The California s engines were suddenly stopped. There was a hurried trampling of feoo, a rattling of blocks on the deck, succeeded by", a dead silence —a silence that could be felt. I jumped out of my berth and inn on deck. How well I can recall that scene ! The morning, cold, damp, and foggy, was an utterly; dismal one. A pale light struggled through the heavy mist, hut it was too thick to see a cable’s length from the ship, although we distinctly heard the rattle of oars at some distance, and now and then a quick shout that sent our hearts into our months. We listened intently. Ho one spoke. Ho one needed to he told what those shouts meant. The huge black hulk lay silent and motionless. Although the gloom hid it from ns, the near vicinity of the coast was announced by the roaring of the surf, distinctly audible in that death-like -stillness. We could not even make out the mastheads for the fog in which, they seemed dissolving. But in the vessel s wake stretched a half-luminous streak of phosphorescent foam, until it mingled with and was lost in the colourless- vapour over-hanging the black and torpid tropic sea. Do-wn this luminous track, and into thegloom beyond, our eyes were strained to discover the secret of the hourHow long it was I cannot tell, for* minutes seemed hours then; but at . last -we heard the dip of oars, and the boat shot out of the foam within a biscuit’s toss of the ship. I remember that, as they came alongside, the upturned faces of the men were ghastly and pinched. One glance showed that the search had been in vain- • The boat was secured, the huge paddles struck tbe water like clods, the heavy floating mass swung’ slowly round to her helm. But at the instant when we were turning away, awed by the mystery of this death scene, a cry came out of the darkness—a yell of agony and deepest horror —that nailed us to the deck. May I never hear the like again. “ Save me, for God’s sake siave me!” pierced through and through the silence till a hundred frantic voices seemed repeating it. The cry was so near that every eye instinctively turned to the spot whence it proceeded —so near that it held all who heard it in breathless, in sickening’ suspense. .Had the sea really give up its dead P Before one might count ten, the boat was again manned and clear of the ship. I recollect the figure of the first officer as he stood erect in the stern sheets, with the tiller ropes in his hand, peering into the fog. I can see the men springing’. like tigers to their work, and the cutter tossing on the seething brine astern like a chip. Then the fog- shut them' from view view again. But never more was that voice heard on hind or sea. It was . the last agonised shriek of returning consciousness - , no doubt, as the Pacific closed over Yankee Jim’s head.

At eight hells we assemhled around the capstan at our captain’s call, when the few poor effects of the lost man were produced. His kit contained one or two soiled letters, a daguerreotype of two blooming children hand'in .hand, a piece of crumpled paper, and a few articles of clothing. I noticed that while smoothing out the creases in this scrap of paper, the captain became deeply attentive, then thoughtful, then very red. Clearing his throat, he began as follows : “ It’s an old sea custom to sell by auction the kit of a shipmate who dies on blue water. You all know its a

custom of the land to search for the last will of a deceased friend as soon as the funeral is over. The man we lost this morning shipped by his fo’eastle or sea name —a very common thing among sailors ; hut I’ve just found out his true one since I stood on this spot; and, what’s more, I’ve found out that he had been in trouble. An idea strikes me right here that he found it too heavy for him. God knows. But its more to the point that he left a wife and two children, ■ ■whose sole dependence he "was. Gentlemen and mates, take off your hats while I read j r ou this letter.” The letter, -which bore evidence of havingbeen read and read again, ran as follows :

“ Oh, Janies ! and are you really coming home, and with such a lot of money 100 P Oh, I can’t believe it all! How happy we shall be once more ! It makes me feel just like a young - girl again, when you and I used to roam in the berry pasture hand in hand, and never coveted anything’ in the wide world but to be together. You haven’t forgot that, my lad, have yon P or the old cedar on the cliff where you asked me for your own wife, and the heavens over us and the sea at our feet, all so beautiful, and we so happy P Do come quick. Surely God has helped me to •wait all this long, weary time, hut now it seems as if I couldn’t bear - it another day. And the little boy, James, just your image ; it’s all he can say, ‘ Papa, come home.’ How .can yon have the heart to stay in that wicked place ?”

When lie had finished, some of the lady passengers were crying softly. He then read the fatal certificate deposit, holding it up so that all might see. “ Hoav, ladies and gentlemen,” he went on, “ you're heard the story, and can put this and that together. When we get to Panama, I’m going to write a letter to the widow. It’s fox - yon to say what kind of a letter it shall he. That’s why I’ve asked you here. How, purs ex*, put up the certificate of deposit.” “ How much am I offered how much ?” said the purser. Ten, twenty, forty, fifty do 1 lain were quickly bid. Then a woman’s voice said seventy, and then the bidding ran up to a hundred and fifty.’ It was knocked down to a redshirted miner, who laid three fiftydollar pieces on the capstan, saying, as he did so, “ ’Tain’t half enough, cap. Sell her agin—sell her agin.” The sale went on, each buyer putting the certificates up for sale again, until the noble emulation covex’ed the capstan with gold.” Stop a bit, purser,” said Captain M , counting the money ; “ that 'will do,” he continued ; “ the sale is over. Here are just two thousand dollars. The certificate of deposit is x-edeemed.” —Harper’s.