Dark Watchers: 1856
1856
Chapter One
When they arrived in San Francisco, the streets were filled with men. During the Rush, it had always been a city of men. All around, the men ranged from the ages of twenty to forty-five. The broken ones sold shovels, and the strongest carried their packs firmly over one shoulder on their way to the Sierras. Jack Harler gave out his hand to his new wife, Constance Harler. She eased herself from the last step off the dock and, with one hand, joined with Jack, her other hand tugging at her dress to free her feet; she looked out at a mess of a city. The journey had filled her head with imagination. She could cock her ear in any direction on the underside of the ship and find chatter coming from other voyagers speaking of the new city. Now, she looked at barren hills with shambled storefronts dotted on their slopes. It was a miserable landscape. There were no trees but mud and the putrid smell of the colony.
Jack looked out at the city in a different light. He could sense he stood in history, and this soil would soon house buildings as large as the ones in New York. He studied the bay and the surrounding harsh mountainscapes that border the water and felt the rush. The energy of this city of man was of fortune and promise—an idea perpetuated in every man's step, which said that tomorrow would be better than today. Jack bent down, touched the sodden earth below, and, without any knowledge to claim it as such, said it was as fertile as any land yet.
Constance ignored Jack’s romanticism of the edge of America. However, she loved Jack, and because of that, she could easily overlook the voyage, the grim destination, and the homelessness they now both assumed in this new land. The first night, they stayed in a small hotel. The place creaked with any small movement, and the bar below did not help matters. It was a sleepless night for Constance. However, Jack smiled in his sleep, holding Constance close throughout.
Jack spent the last of their money on gear. He bought a small wagon, large enough to seat the two of them and carry their gear in the rear but also small enough to require one mule, which Jack subsequently bought. Jack then purchased gear for mining and panning gold. They bought a change of clothes for him and Constance, who took her time selecting her preferred dress, and finally bought a small tent. They left that same day and headed south off the peninsula, bound for Monterey Bay.
Between maneuvering around potholes and jutting rocks from the wagon trail, Jack would look at his new wife in awe. He’d scratch his head in wonder at how he was so lucky. Constance was a small but petite woman of twenty. She came from a well-to-do family in Knoxville. She had gone to school to become a teacher, but Jack had entered her life. They fell for one another. Skipping on their duties, they headed west for adventure. Both left home with allowances from their fathers. Like so many others, they promised to establish themselves in this golden California and not just become one of those sorry fools who failed to strike gold. Although they were made with love, Constance reminded Jack she had not given up on being a teacher. Jack would sober up in these discussions. His night would turn from romance and dance to fear of losing her. He would assure Constance that she could find a job at one of the new schools when they made it into town.
Jack also promised that his gamble would pay off. Unlike the other men, Jack decided to push south to a little-known valley off the coast. Carmel Valley, just south of Monterey, had been rumored as a source of gold. However, few were likely to risk their time on a rumor. Most men headed east to the Sierras, where the gold flowed hand in hand with the spring runoff. He promised her they would settle for a week or so in this tent, and after that week, well, they would have enough to buy the whole town if they had wanted to. Constance would smile at him, whether she believed him or not it did not matter.