of Little Creek diggings altered considerably, and for
the worse, after Ned Sinton and Tom Collins left. A rush of miners had
taken place in consequence of the reports of the successful adventurers
who returned to Sacramento for supplies, and, in the course of a few
weeks, the whole valley was swarming with eager gold-hunters. The
consequence of this was that laws of a somewhat stringent nature had to
be made. The ground was measured off into lots of about ten feet
square, and apportioned to the miners. Of course, in so large and rough
a community, there was a good deal of crime, so that Judge Lynch's
services were frequently called in; but upon the whole, considering the
circumstances of the colony, there was much less than might have been
expected.

At the time of which we write, namely, several weeks after the events
narrated in our last chapter, the whole colony was thrown into a state
of excitement, in consequence of large quantities of gold having been
discovered on the banks of the stream, in the ground on which the
log-huts and tents were erected. The result of this discovery was, that
the whole place was speedily riddled with pits and their concomitant
mud-heaps, and, to walk about after night-fall, was a difficult as well
as a dangerous amusement. Many of the miners pulled down their tents,
and began to work upon the spots on which they previously stood. Others
began to dig all round their wooden huts, until these rude domiciles
threatened to become insular, and a few pulled their dwellings down in
order to get at the gold beneath them.

One man, as he sat on his door-step smoking his pipe after dinner,
amused himself by poking the handle of an axe into the ground, and,
unexpectedly, turned up a small nugget of gold worth several dollars.
In ten minutes there was a pit before his door big enough to hold a
sheep, and, before night, he realised about fifty dollars. Another, in
the course of two days, dug out one hundred dollars behind his tent, and
all were more or less fortunate.

At this particular time, it happened that Captain Bunting had been
seized with one of his irresistible and romantic wandering fits, and had
gone off with the blunderbuss, to hunt in the mountains. Maxton, having
heard of better diggings elsewhere, and not caring for the society of
our adventurers when Ned and Tom were absent, had bid them good-bye, and
gone off with his pick and shovel on his shoulder, and his
prospecting