We started on our prospecting tour and went northeast to a place now called Big Oak Flat.  This was at the head of a small stream and there were several small gulches that emptied into it that paid well.  This flat was all taken up and a ditch was cut through to drain it.  A ship load of gold was expected to be found when it was worked.  A small town of tents had been pitched on both sides of the flat.  One side was occupied by gamblers, and many games were constantly carried on and were well patronized.  On the opposite side of the flat were many small tents, and around on the hillside some mules and jacks were feeding.  One of the little long-eared donkeys came down among the tents and went in one and commenced eating flour from the sack.  The owner of the flour ran to the tent, took his shot gun and fired a load of buck-shot into the donkey’s hams.  The animal reeled and seemed shot fatally.  I now looked for a battle to commence, but the parties were more reasonable.  The price of the animal was fully paid, and no blood shed as I expected there surely would be.

We now prospected further east, but nothing good enough was found.  The place we looked over was where the town of Garota now stands.  We concluded to go back, have a council, and go somewhere else.  On our way back we stopped to get dinner.  While I was around the fire, barefooted, I felt something crawl up my instep, and it proved to be another of those piojos of Williams’.  I now thought these torments must be all over this country.

Gold dust was used to transact all business; all the coin was in the hands of the gentlemen gamblers.  Most miners found it necessary to have a small pair of scales in the breast pocket to weigh the dust so as not to have to trust some one who carried lead weights and often got more than his just dues.  Gold dust was valued at sixteen dollars an ounce.

We now thought it would be best for two of us to take our mules and go down in the small hills and try to get some elk meat to take with us, as our route would be mostly through the unsettled part of the country, and no provisions could likely be procured, so Mr. Bradford of New Orleans and myself took our mules and went down where the hills were low and the game plenty.  We camped in a low ravine, staked out our mules and staid all night without a fire, believing that when we woke in the early morning some of the many herd of elk then in sight would be near us at daylight, and we could easily kill all we wanted without leaving camp; but we were disappointed.  Hundreds of the big-horned fellows were in sight, but none in rifle shot, and there was no chance for us to get any nearer to them.  We got near a couple of antelope and Mr. Bradford, who was a brag shot and had the best gun, proposed to kill them as we stood.  The larger of the two was on his side and much nearer than the smaller one, but we fired together just as we stood.  Bradford’s antelope ran off unhurt:  mine fell dead in its tracks.  Bradford bragged no more about his fine gun and superior marksmanship.