Well,
in an alarmingly short time that innocent-looking little creek had
become a roaring, foaming black river, carrying tables, chairs,
washstands, little bridges - in fact everything it could tear up - along
with it to the valley. Many of these pieces of furniture lodged
against the carriage bridge that was just below the store where we
were, making a dangerous dam, so a man with a stout rope around his
waist went in the water to throw them out on the bank, but he was
tossed about like a cork, and could do nothing. Just as they were
about to pull him in the bridge gave way, and it was with the greatest
difficulty he was kept from being swept down with the floating
furniture. He was dragged back to our basement in an almost
unconscious condition, and with many cuts and bruises.
The water was soon in the basements of the stores, where it did much
damage. The store we were in is owned by a young man - one of the beaux
of the town - and I think the poor man came near losing his mind. He
rushed around pulling his hair one second, and wringing his hands the
next, and seemed perfectly incapable of giving one order, or assisting
his clerks in bringing the dripping goods from the basement. Very
unlike the complacent, diamond-pin young man we had danced with at the
balls!
The cloud-burst on Mount Helena had caused many breaks in the enormous
ditches that run around the mountain and carry water to the mines on
the other side. No one can have the faintest conception of how
terrible a cloud-burst is until they have been in one. It is like
standing under an immense waterfall. At the very beginning we noticed
the wagon of a countryman across the street with one horse hitched to
it. The horse was tied so the water from an eaves trough poured
directly upon his back, and not liking that, he stepped forward, which
brought the powerful stream straight to the wagon.
Unfortunately for the owner, the wagon had been piled high with all
sorts of packages, both large and small, and all in paper or paper
bags. One by one these were swept out, and as the volume of water
increased in force and the paper became wet and easily torn, their
contents went in every direction. Down in the bottom was a large bag
of beans, and when the pipe water reached this, there was a white
spray resembling a geyser. Not one thing was left in that wagon - even
sacks of potatoes and grain were washed out! It is a wonder that the
poor horse took it all as patiently as he did.
During all this time we had not even heard from our friends next door;
after a while, however, we got together, but it was impossible to
return to the hotel for a long time, because of the great depth of
water in the street. Mrs. Pierce, whose house is on the opposite side
of the ravine, could not get to her home until just before dark, after
a temporary bridge had been built across the still high stream. Not
one bridge was left across the creek, and they say that nothing has
been left at Chinatown - that it was washed clean. Perhaps there is
nothing to be regretted in this, however, except that any amount of
dirt has been piled up right in the heart of Helena. The millionaire
residents seem to think that the great altitude and dry atmosphere
will prevent any ill effects of decaying debris.
We went to the assay building the other day to see a brick of gold
taken from the furnace. The mold was run out on its little track soon
after we got there, and I never dreamed of what "white heat" really
means, until I saw the oven of that awful furnace. We had to stand far
across the room while the door was open, and even then the hot air
that shot out seemed blasting. The men at the furnace were protected,
of course. The brick mold was in another mold that after a while was
put in cold water, so we had to wait for first the large and then the
small to be opened before we saw the beautiful yellow brick that was
still very hot, but we were assured that it was then too hard to be in
danger of injury. It was of the largest size, and shaped precisely
like an ordinary building brick, and its value was great. It was to be
shipped on the stage the next morning on its way to the treasury in
Washington.
It is wonderful that so few of those gold bricks are stolen from the
stage. The driver is their only protector, and the stage route is
through miles and miles of wild forests, and in between huge boulders
where a "hold-up" could be so easily accomplished.
CAMP ON MARIAS RIVER, MONTANA TERRITORY,
September, 1878.
AN old proverb tells us that "All things come to to him who waits,"
but I never had faith in this, for I have patiently waited many times
for things that never found me. But this time, after I had waited and
waited the tiresome summer through, ever hoping to come to Fort
Benton, and when I was about discouraged, "things come," and here I am
in camp with Faye, and ever so much more comfortable than I would have
been at the little old hotel at Benton.
There are only two companies here now - all the others having gone with
regimental headquarters to Fort Shaw - otherwise I could not be here,
for I could not have come to a large camp. Our tents are at the
extreme end of the line in a grove of small trees, and next to ours is
the doctor's, so we are quite cut off from the rest of the camp.
