For Years, Mr. Donner Cherished A Boot Left By The
Highwayman In The Hurry Of Departure, Which, Much To His Annoyance, Was
Finally Abstracted By Some Person Unknown.
To dispose of Black Bart; he
served his term and was never seen again in the Sierras.
There is a
rumor that Wells Fargo & Company, the chief sufferers by his activities,
made it worth his while to behave himself in the future.
The following day I reached Copperopolis. This place very justly has the
reputation of being one of the hottest spots in the foot-hills. Owing to
resumed operations on a large scale, of the Calaveras Copper Company, I
found the little settlement crowded to its fullest capacity, and was
perforce compelled to resort to genuine "hobo" methods - in short, I
spent the night under the lee of a haystack. My original intention had
been to walk thence to Sonora, twenty-four miles; but finding the road
would take me again into the valley, I decided to make for Angel's Camp,
only thirteen miles away.
It is uphill nearly all the way from Copperopolis to Angel's Camp, but
mostly you are in the pine woods. My spirits rose with the altitude and
delight at the magnificent view when I at last reached the summit.
Toiling up the grade in the dust, I met a good old-fashioned four-horse
Concord stage, which from all appearances might have been in action ever
since the days of Bret Harte. At last I felt I was in touch with the
Sierras.
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