The
locality then called Happy Valley, where Mission and Howard streets
now are, between Market and Folsom streets, was occupied in a similar
way. The streets were filled with people, it seemed to me, from every
nation under Heaven, all wearing their peculiar costumes. The majority
of them were from the States; and each State had furnished specimens
of every type within its borders. Every country of Europe had its
representatives; and wanderers without a country were there in
great numbers. There were also Chilians, Sonorians, Kanakas from the
Sandwich Islands, and Chinese from Canton and Hong Kong. All seemed,
in hurrying to and fro, to be busily occupied and in a state of
pleasurable excitement. Everything needed for their wants; food,
clothing, and lodging-quarters, and everything required for
transportation and mining, were in urgent demand and obtained
extravagant prices. Yet no one seemed to complain of the charges made.
There was an apparent disdain of all attempts to cheapen articles
and reduce prices. News from the East was eagerly sought from all new
comers. Newspapers from New York were sold at a dollar apiece. I had a
bundle of them, and seeing the price paid for such papers, I gave them
to a fellow-passenger, telling him he might have half he could get for
them. There were sixty-four numbers, if I recollect aright, and
the third day after our arrival, to my astonishment he handed me
thirty-two dollars, stating that he had sold them all at a dollar
apiece.
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