IN THE MINING DISTRICT 



2-19 



that is the cemetery of Long Bar. As it happened, I did 

 not;— and my good constitution and perhaps the physi- 

 cian, who kept me busy swallowing medicine, have pulled 

 me through; and now all danger is passed, and you need 

 not in the least feel uneasy. Yet I must say, I am still 

 very weak, and that I have during the last few days only, 

 been able to make just enough to pay my board bill at 

 the inn. I hope to get better by degrees, and if I only 

 get strong again, I shall soon have money again too, be- 

 cause a full day's work in my claim, will always give me 

 6 or 7 dollars. 



The general state of health here at the Bar has evi- 

 dently improved considerably. During my sickness, how- 

 ever, and in the previous week, it was worse than ever. 

 Around our boarding-house alone, cholera and dysentery 

 carried off three and four victims every day; the former 

 claimed its victims generally within a few hours. I have 

 sat at the breakfast table with apparently well people, 

 who, when I returned from my work in the evening, I 

 learned had been buried. Of our wingdam company, two 

 more have gone to their last resting place, so that four 

 out of ten of our number have been buried. During this 

 present week, however, I have not heard of a single case 

 of cholera, and only one man has died; but he had been 

 hopelessly sick for several months. 



The only rays of sunshine during all this suffering and 

 sorrow were your dear letters Xo. 11 of May 5th, and Xo. 

 12 of June 7th— for which I thank you with all my heart. 



You have had bad weather during this spring, as I see 

 by your letter of May 5th, my dear father; but you must 

 not imagine that the weather in California during the 

 summer season is the same as it is in spring. It may not 

 lie pleasant to have to start fire in your stove in May, 

 but it is much less so— you may believe me— to have to 

 work hard in the sun when the thermometer rises to 30° 

 R. in the shade. The air is hot as if it came oat of a fur- 

 nact : it is useless to look anywhere for a moment 's relict'; 

 it is as bad in the shade of a tree as it is out in the sun,— 

 for the glaring rays, coming down day after day from 



