A drunken dance by Indians
An Indian song about the yellow earth and the fleet rifle
An immodest dance by Indian women.


_July 12th, Wednesday_.--We finished our cradles late upon Saturday
night, but delayed working until Monday. A few of the miners pursued
their avocation on the Sunday, but the majority devoted the day to
rest--smoking and sleeping in the shade alternately. I walked through
the washings, and heard that many of the miners had been taken ill with
intermittent fever, a circumstance which did not astonish me. Bad diet,
daily exposure to the sun while it is at its greatest height, followed
by an exposure to the cold damp air at night time--these conjoined were
quite sufficient to bring on the most severe illness. On my return to
the tent I looked over our little stock of medicine, which I foresaw I
should soon be required to use.

On Monday we commenced operations in the old style--digging, fetching
water, and rocking the cradle. The sun came blazing down with great
power, causing headaches to most of the party, particularly Malcolm,
who complained much. The day's taking was very good; we having realised
nine ounces with one machine, and seven and a half with the other. At
night, as Malcolm still continued to complain of his head, and as there
was evidently a good deal of low fever about him, I gave him a dose of
calomel and a febrifuge mixture, which by the morning produced a good
deal of relief.

Bradley made his appearance during the forenoon, after a fatiguing ride
from Sutter's Fort. He had seen the Captain, had delivered the gold,
and settled the transaction. We were hard at work the whole of to-day.