laugh of, apparently, See Yup himself.  Although we all knew that there were a dozen Chinamen or more at work at the mines, the collector never was able to collect the tax from more than two,—­See Yup and one See Yin,—­and so great was their facial resemblance that the unfortunate official for a long time hugged himself with the conviction that he had made See Yup pay twice, and withheld the money from the government!  It is very probable that the Californian’s recognition of the sanctity of a joke, and his belief that “cheating the government was only cheating himself,” largely accounted for the sympathies of the rest of the miners.

But these sympathies were not always unanimous.

One evening I strolled into the bar-room of the principal saloon, which, so far as mere upholstery and comfort went, was also the principal house in the settlement.  The first rains had commenced; the windows were open, for the influence of the southwest trades penetrated even this far-off mountain mining settlement, but, oddly enough, there was a fire in the large central stove, around which the miners had collected, with their steaming boots elevated on a projecting iron railing that encircled it.  They were not attracted by the warmth, but the stove formed a social pivot for gossip, and suggested that mystic circle dear to the gregarious instinct.  Yet they were decidedly a despondent group.  For some moments the silence was only broken by a gasp, a sigh, a muttered oath, or an impatient change of position.  There was nothing in the fortunes of the settlement, nor in their own individual affairs to suggest this gloom.  The singular truth was that they were, one and all, suffering from the pangs of dyspepsia.

Incongruous as such a complaint might seem to their healthy environment,—­their outdoor life, their daily exercise, the healing balsam of the mountain air, their enforced temperance in diet, and the absence of all enervating pleasures,—­it was nevertheless the incontestable fact.  Whether it was the result of the nervous, excitable temperament which had brought them together in this feverish hunt for gold; whether it was the quality of the tinned meats or half-cooked provisions they hastily bolted, begrudging the time it took to prepare and to consume them; whether they too often supplanted their meals by tobacco or whiskey, the singular physiological truth remained that these young, finely selected adventurers, living the lives of the natural, aboriginal man, and looking the picture of health and strength, actually suffered more from indigestion than the pampered dwellers of the cities.  The quantity of “patent medicines,” “bitters,” “pills,” “panaceas,” and “lozenges” sold in the settlement almost exceeded the amount of the regular provisions whose effects they were supposed to correct.  The sufferers eagerly scanned advertisements and placards.  There were occasional “runs” on new “specifics,” and general conversation eventually turned into a discussion of their respective merits.  A certain childlike faith and trust in each new remedy was not the least distressing and pathetic of the symptoms of these grown-up, bearded men.