874 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Dec. 1. 



After a day's stop with a kinsman in Sacra- 

 mento I pushed on again toward the north. 



After leaving the Sacramento Valley we 

 enter a mountainous region which culminates 

 in the cloud-piercing mass of rocks and snow 

 known as Mount Shasta. While approaching 

 this peak we catch occasional glimpses of it a 

 hundred miles away ; and as it towers above 

 all other surrounding mountains these distant 

 views of it are more in the order of the sublime 

 than a view at close range; and the view of it 

 at its base, with no other mountains with 

 ■which to compare it, is truly disappointing, 

 and the old adage is verified, " Distance lends 

 enchantment to the view." 



At Montague, a few miles beyond Shasta I 

 left the S. P. R. R. and joined a few fellow- 

 travelers on a short branch line to Yreka. 

 Our main endeavor on this short line of nine 

 miles was to keep a drunken man from jump- 

 ing from the train while it was in motion. At 

 Yreka I took the four-horse stage for Fort 

 Jones, and bade farewell to all railroads for 

 several months. Our drunken miner was on 

 hand to take the stage too ; and the idea of 



MINING BY HYDRAULIC PRESSURE. 



riding inside the coach, and listening to his 

 senseless gabble made me look out for a better 

 position, and I was pleased when the driver 

 said there was room on top ; and when we 

 were loaded for the journey there were six on 

 top of the stage, with three inside and one 

 drunken thing. 



In making the twenty miles from Yreka to 

 P'ort Jones we cross quite a range of moun- 

 tains; and in our descent upon the west side 

 we enter a most fertile region known as Scott 

 Valley. To the lover of grand mountain 

 scenery it is all that can be asked for — Shasta 

 to the east, ever covered with snow; mountain 

 upon mountain to the west; and at that date, 

 the l.Tth of April, they were wearing their 

 white caps. Scott River and its tributaries - 

 rise in these mountains; and the melting 

 snow replenishes the streams during the entire 

 season. The valley is not extensive, but is 

 very fertile, and dairying and stock-raising 

 are the chief farm pursuits. Alfalfa is grown 

 in abundance, and that makes it a sort of little 

 paradise for the bee-keeper. Gold-mining is 



no small pur.suit. Nearly every stream has its 

 placer mines. 



My destination, and where I expected to 

 find Mr. Levering and the bees, was the town 

 of Oro Fino. In Spanish, " oro " means gold, 

 and " fino " fine, or, as we would say in Eng- 

 lish, fine gold. 



My stage-driver from Fort Jones to the end 

 of my journey was a unique specimen of Irish- 

 man, wearing a big pair of green goggles, 

 driving an old rack-o-bones of a white horse 

 attached to a wagon tied up with so many 

 bailjug- wires that it was hard to tell if it ever 

 had a color. 



I found Mr. Levering at the little postoffice, 

 to welcome me. The gentle morning breeze 

 was toying with his whiskers, and there was a 

 smile of welcome and a hearty handshake. 

 Three quarters of a mile further along I found 

 the end of my journey. Uncle Tommy deliv- 

 ered myself and trunk safely, and I turned 

 myself to the study of the surroundings. 



Oro Fino is located in a little branch of 

 Scott Valley, and is separated from the main 

 valley by quite a range of hills. The contrast 

 between this portion of California 

 and the southern portion was very 

 marked. While it was diy, even 

 unto death, in the south, this 

 location was green with growing 

 grain and alfalfa, and the streams 

 were purling down from the 

 mountains. It was a real pleasant 

 sensation to listen, at various 

 wakeful moments during the 

 night, to the music of the water. 

 There was a hoarser roar as 

 from a distant waterfall. This, I 

 learned, was from the forceful 

 hydraulic gianis washing down 

 the earth, and separating from it 

 the precious metal. There were 

 two of these mines within five 

 minutes' walk of my new home, 

 and the season's operations re- 

 sulted in a product of some 

 $20,000. 

 Fino was at one time a rich mining 

 camp, and between two and three millions of 

 dollars has been taken out. The town once 

 contained two hotels, two stores, a livery 

 stable, saloons, and dance-halls ; but it was 

 discovered that, un'der the town site, was pay 

 dirt, and the entire town was moved to lower 

 ground ; and now where the buildings stood 

 there is nothing but the bare bedrock. The 

 town suffered, however, for now there is no 

 hotel and only one store. The glory of the 

 place has evidently departed. 



The method of mining is to wash off all the 

 dirt from the bedrock. This muddy water is 

 rvin through a long flume, the bottom of 

 which is constructed so as to leave many 

 creases crosswise of it. Quicksilver is turned 

 in at the upper end in small quantities, and 

 this finds lodgment in the creases. The 

 gold, as it comes down in the muddy water, 

 also finds lodgment, and, having an affinity 

 for the quicksilver, the two form an amalgam. 

 The mine is run for several months without a 

 clean-up ; the forctful stream of water from 



Oro 



