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Updated: June 24, 2025
An old miner, like Higbie, could no more withstand the fascination of a mysterious mining excitement like this "cement" foolishness, than he could refrain from eating when he was famishing.
About the middle of the afternoon, as I was coming out of the post office, I met a Mr. Gardiner, who told me that Capt. I said if he would wait for me a moment, I would go down and help in the sick room. I ran to the cabin to tell Higbie. He was not there, but I left a note on the table for him, and a few minutes later I left town in Gardiner's wagon.
We claimed two hundred feet each six hundred feet in all the smallest and compactest organization in the district, and the easiest to manage. No one can be so thoughtless as to suppose that we slept, that night. Higbie and I went to bed at midnight, but it was only to lie broad awake and think, dream, scheme.
The sea was running high and the storm increasing. It was growing late, too three or four in the afternoon. Whether to venture toward the mainland or not, was a question of some moment. But we were so distressed by thirst that we decide to try it, and so Higbie fell to work and I took the steering-oar.
Our conclave broke up at nine o'clock, and we set about our preparation diligently and with profound secrecy. All these things were "packed" on the back of a led horse and whoever has not been taught, by a Spanish adept, to pack an animal, let him never hope to do the thing by natural smartness. That is impossible. Higbie had had some experience, but was not perfect.
The Wide West people also commanded their foreman to refuse any but their own operatives permission to enter the mine at any time or for any purpose. I kept up my "blue" meditations and Higbie kept up a deal of thinking, too, but of a different sort.
He grew quiet, now, and the doctor and I withdrew and left him to his friends. It was a little after one o'clock. As I entered the cabin door, tired but jolly, the dingy light of a tallow candle revealed Higbie, sitting by the pine table gazing stupidly at my note, which he held in his fingers, and looking pale, old, and haggard. I halted, and looked at him. He looked at me, stolidly.
"Too high too much climbing" from Higbie. "What is?" "I was thinking of Russian Hill building a house up there." "Too much climbing? Shan't you keep a carriage?" "Of course. I forgot that." Pause. "Cal., what kind of a house are you going to build?" "I was thinking about that. Three-story and an attic." "But what kind?" "Well, I don't hardly know. Brick, I suppose." "Brick bosh." "Why?
He camped with a young man named Phillips at first, and, later on, with an experienced miner, Calvin H. Higbie, to whom "Roughing It" would one day be dedicated. They lived in a tiny cabin with a cotton roof, and around their rusty stove they would paw over their specimens and figure the fortune that their mines would be worth in the spring.
We thought it well to have a strong friend, and therefore we brought the foreman of the Wide West to our cabin that night and revealed the great surprise to him. Higbie said: "We are going to take possession of this blind lead, record it and establish ownership, and then forbid the Wide West company to take out any more of the rock. You cannot help your company in this matter nobody can help them.
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