"It is quite a treat, after a hard day's work, to go at nightfall to one of these fandangos. The merry notes of the guitar and the violin announce them to all comers; and a motley enough looking crowd, every member of which is puffing away at a cigar, forms an applauding circle around the dancers, who smoke like all the rest. One cannot help being struck by the picturesque costume and graceful movements of the performers, who appear to dance not only with their legs, but with all their hearts and souls. During the interval between the dances, coffee is consumed by the senoras, and the coffee with something stronger by the senors; so that, as the night advances, the merriment gets, if not 'fast and furious,' at least animated and imposing."
The dangers which the adventurers are subjected to encounter are often increased by the hostility of the Indians. These, however, only molest those who are daring enough to frequent the outskirts of the gold region. There the Indians are treacherous, and will attack small parties, even after smoking the pipe of peace with them. Their principal weapons are bows and arrows; for though many of them have guns in their possession, the scarcity of ammunition prevents them from using them to any purpose. The following description of an encounter with them by a small party, encamped in the valley of the Bear River, then seldom frequented by white men, will give an idea of their mode of attack:
"We were just on the point of returning to the camp to dinner, when Dowling, who was standing near some sage bushes at the upper part of the ravine, heard a rustling among them, and on moving in the direction of the noise saw an Indian stealthily creeping along, who, as soon as he perceived he was discovered, discharged an arrow which just missed its mark, but lacerated, and that rather severely, Dowling's ear. The savage immediately set up a most terrific whoop, and ran off, but tumbled before he could draw another arrow from his quiver, while Dowling, rushing forward, buried his mattock in the head of his fallen foe, killing him instantaneously.
"At this moment we heard the crack of a rifle in the direction of the camp, which, with the Indian's whoop at the same moment, completely bewildered us. Every man, however, seized his rifle, and Dowling, hastening towards us, told us of what had just occurred. All was still for the next few moments, and I mounted a little hill to reconnoitre. Suddenly I saw a troop of Indians, the foremost of them on horseback, approaching at full speed. I hastily returned to my companions, and we sought shelter in a little dell, determined to await there, and resist the attack, for it was evident that the savages' intentions were any thing but pacific.