t. I said he was not handsome, and when we
consider his rusty, dark-brown color, his heavy features, fishy black
eyes, coarse black hair, and clumsy gait, nobody will dispute the
statement. But one Digger is uglier than another, and an old squaw caps
the climax.

The first Digger I ever saw was the best-looking. He had picked up a
little English, and loafed around the mining-camps picking up a meal
where he could get it. He called himself "Captain Charley," and, like a
true native American, was proud of his title. If it was self-assumed, he
was still following the precedent set by a vast host of captains,
majors, colonels, and generals, who never wore a uniform or hurt
anybody. He made his appearance at the little parsonage on the hill-side
in Sonora one day, and, thrusting his bare head into the door, he said:

"Me Cappin Charley," tapping his chest complacently as he spoke.

Returning his salutation, I waited for him to speak again.

"You got grub--coche carne?" he asked, mixing his Spanish and English.

Some food was given him, which he snatched rather eagerly, and began to
eat at once. It was, evident that Captain Charley had not breakfasted
that morning. He was a hungry Indian, and when he got through his meal
there was no reserve of rations in the unique repository of dishes and
food which has been mentioned heretofore in these Sketches. Peering
about the premises, Captain Charley made a discovery. The modest little
parsonage stood on a steep incline, the upper side resting on the red
gravelly earth, while the lower side was raised three or four feet from
the ground. The vacant space underneath had been used by our several
bachelor predecessors as a receptacle for cast-off clothing. Malone,
Lockley, and Evans, had thus disposed of their discarded apparel, and
Drury Bond and one or two other miners had also added to the treasures
that caught the eye of the inquisitive Digger. It was a museum of
sartorial curiosities--seedy and ripped broadcloth coats, vests, and
pants, flannel mining-shirts of gay colors and of different degrees of
wear and tear, linen shirts that looked like battle-flags that had been
through the war, and old shoes and boots of all sorts, from the high
rubber water-proofs used by miners to the ragged slippers that had
adorned the feet of the lonely single parsons whose names are written
above.

"Me take um?" asked Captain Charley, pointing to the treasure he had
discovered.

Leave was give