Chapter 1

Shit! Oops, I am not supposed to say that. Oh, to hell with it. There is another one of those words I am not supposed to say, but I don’t care. This is 1850 and I am 14 years old, so I think that I should be able to talk anyway I want to. Mama would not agree with me, but I think that if I am old enough to use a rifle, I am old enough to say those words.

Here we are on our gold claim and surrounded by claim jumpers. The last time I was able to get a count, I saw 12 of them. I am using a Mississippi Rifle (a muzzle loader) that Papa picked up in a gun shop in Oakland when we first came to California to look for gold. My Papa, Ezra Summinski and my Mama, Mary Summinski, had come over from Austria back in 1830, and Papa had opened a bakery in New York City. They lived in a tenement and Mama worked as the cleaning woman for the building. That was where my sister Virginia, now called Jenny by everybody but Mama, and I were born.

Jenny is now 12 years old. As soon as the news broke about the discovery of gold in California, Papa and Moma decided that was where we needed to be. Between the two of them, they had saved enough money after Papa sold his business to buy the tickets for us to take a ship around Cape Horn to California. Oh, dear God in Heaven, I beg of you to save me from another trip like that.

They had enough money left over to outfit us to hunt for gold. Papa bought two Mississippi Rifles in .54 caliber, one for Mama and one for me to use and three Colt Dragoon Army surplus pistols in .45 caliber. Oh, Boy, that pistol was heavy as all get-out, and I had to carry mine on a lanyard looped around my neck. Mama carried hers the same way, but Papa used a holster because he was stronger. Papa had the Girandoni air rifle in .46 caliber that he had used in the Austrian Army.

The reason for us being so well armed was because there was a real problem with claim jumpers, and Papa wanted to be prepared if any should show up at our claim, once we found it. Like everybody else there for the gold rush, we expected to get rich practically overnight, and Papa had had enough experience with thieves, both in Austria and in New York City, that he was determined not be caught without an adequate defense.

Papa was an expert with his air rifle, and Mama and I were good with our Mississippi rifles. Papa’s rifle was a repeater, so he did not have to worry about reloading until he had fired 21 shots, but Mama and I were using single-shot rifles. Jenny reloaded for us after each shot, and we used the Colt pistols while she was reloading. Mama and I had to hold our pistols with both hands because of the weight, but we still were able to knock off some of the claim jumpers.

I think that they had started out with about 20 men in their gang, but we caught them by surprise with our accurate shooting. Papa had insisted that Mama and I practice with both types of weapons, so we had learned to shoot accurately up to about 50 yards. It looked to me like the claim jumpers had not bothered to practice, so they had trouble hitting any target more than 10 yards away.

The claim jumpers had started shooting as soon as they showed up, and they were such poor shots that none of us had been hit. Nevertheless, we had been warned by their lousy shooting, so that we were able to take up our weapons almost as soon as the claim jumpers had shown up.

Papa and I started shooting immediately, I with my pistol and Papa with his rifle. I hit one man and one horse, and Papa hit three men before Mama was even ready to shoot. She had been fixing the noon meal, so she had to put that aside before she could take part in the defense. She got one man with her Colt before the claim jumpers ducked behind some rocks.

It was obvious that the claim jumpers depended more on their number of attackers than on anything else. I could not get a good count, but it was obvious that at least half of them were using the early model Colt pocket pistols in .31 caliber. Normally, that weapon was of no value beyond about 25 feet, but we were able to hold them off to a range of no less than 40 feet because of the accuracy of our shooting.

None of us thought that the claim jumpers were very smart, but Papa said that he thought that they would leave when they found out that we were not an easy mark. Well, Papa was usually correct when he made a statement on any subject, but it looked like he had overestimated the intelligence of this gang.

Sure, we had about $9,000 worth of gold collected over six months, but I wondered how the claim jumpers could know that. The gold was stored in glass jars hidden among our food containers, so it was going to take a thorough search to find it, and we were not going to give them that opportunity. The battle had been going on for about an hour, with nothing to show for either side after the first 15 minutes of the shooting.

It was hard to tell when Papa fired his rifle because it was almost silent. All one could hear was a kind of whoosh when he pulled the trigger, and with so many other noises going on, it was hard to spot. I wonder if the claim jumpers even knew that he was shooting at them.

Oh, dammit, we were suddenly in trouble. Papa was hit by a ricochet in the left shoulder, and he was right handed. His rifle required two hands, but he could still use his Colt Dragoon. I had practiced with his rifle whenever he would allow it, so I was more comfortable with that rifle than I was with the Mississippi Rifle. After a very short discussion, I gave him my Colt and he gave me his air rifle. Ah, now I knew that I could do a better job of eliminating claim jumpers.

The claim jumpers had been depending on me firing my Mississippi Rifle and then having a minute of down time while it was reloaded. They were using that minute to fire a lot of lead in our direction. I could use my Colt during that time while Jenny was reloading my rifle, but the blasted pistol was so heavy that I had trouble moving it from target to target. For some reason, I did not have nearly that trouble with Papa’s air rifle.

Mama and I worked out a scheme whereby she would fire her rifle from my normal shooting station and I would use the air rifle after she made her shot. The result was that we picked off eight more of the claim jumpers before they caught on. Well, come to think of it, I wonder if they ever did catch on, but they did stop jumping into view to shoot at us as soon as she had fired the Mississippi Rifle. There were now only four left from the 20 men who had originally attacked us, and I was determined to get them before they could escape.

For one thing, I was sure that they were carrying with them most of the gold that they had stolen from other claims. I figured that we had as much right to that gold as anybody else, so I wanted to stop them from riding off with what I considered to be our gold. I could see where they had picketed their horses, so I started shooting at the horses when I did not have a claim jumper to shoot at.

I had knocked off 12 of the horses when the claim jumpers woke up to what I was doing. If I could kill all of their horses, there was no way that they could escape. The four who were left suddenly made a run for their horses. Thank God Papa’s rifle was a repeater that could cycle between shots so fast. I was presented with four men running for their horses and not making any effort to shoot at us.

That was all I needed. I was able to get off a shot every second and a half, and I put a bullet into each of four backs. A lead ball nearly half an inch in diameter could do a tremendous amount of damage to internal organs, so I did not have to make a hit on a spot that produced instant death. A hit anywhere was going to put a man down, and that was all I was looking for at the moment.

The last man fell with still 20 yards to run to reach the horses, so I was proud of myself. Mama hugged and kissed me for doing such a great job, and Papa shook my hand as one adult to another. I truly do not know which was more of a thrill!

As an even greater surprise, he said, “Orville, you have proved yourself today to be a great warrior; therefore, I am giving you my rifle. Treat it well, and it will serve you for the rest of your life. I will go back to the cap and ball weapons. The way my shoulder feels, I may never gain full use of my left arm, so you will have to become the protector of our family. We are depending on you, Son.”