’A man who had been an unsuccessful delver in the mines of Georgia, on hearing the thrilling news of the gold placers of California, had his spirit quickened within him; and although he had arrived at an age—­being about sixty—­when the fires of youth usually cease to burn with vigour, he fixed his eyes upon the far-distant and but little-known country, and resolved that he would wend his way thither alone, and even in the absence of that friend, generally thought indispensable, money, of which he was wholly destitute.

’Under such circumstances, it would not avail to think of a passage round “The Horn,” or by the more uncertain, and at the same time imperfected route, across the Isthmus.  But as California was on this continent, he knew that there was a way thither, though it might lead through trackless deserts and barren wastes.  These were not enough to daunt his determined spirit.  He bent his way to the “Father of Waters,” and worked his way as he could, till he found himself at “Independence,” in health, and with no less strength, and with 150 dollars in his purse.  He had no family to provide for, or even companion to care for, on the route which he was about to enter.  Yet some things were necessary for himself; and to relieve his body from the pressure of a load, he provided himself with a wheel-barrow, on which to place his traps.

’It must not be supposed that our hero was ignorant of the large number of emigrants that was moving over the plains, and it is quite probable that his sagacity was precocious enough to look ahead at the result of attempting to carry forward such ponderous loads, and such a variety of at least dispensable things as the earlier parties started with.  A detailed list of the ’amount and variety of goods and wares, useful and superfluous, including many of the appendages of refined and fashionable life, would astonish the reader.  Our hero was not in a hurry.  He reasoned thus:  “The world was not made in a day; the race is not always for the swift.”  He trundled along his barrow, enjoying the comforts of his pipe, the object of wonder to many, and the subject of much sportive remark to those who were hurried along by their fresh and spirited teams on their first days.

’Many weeks had not passed, however, before our traveller had tangible evidence that trouble had fallen to the lot of some who had preceded him.  A stray ox was feeding on his track:  the mate of which, he afterwards learned, was killed, and this one turned adrift as useless.  He coaxed this waif to be the companion of his journey, taking care to stop where he could provide himself with the needful sustenance.  He had not travelled far before he found a mate for his ox, and ere long a wagon, which had given way in some of its parts, and been abandoned by its rightful owner, and left in the road.  Our travelling genius was aroused to turn these mishaps to his own advantage; so he went straightway to work to patch and bolster up the wagon, bound his faithful