An unnamed narrator recalls a time thirty-five years ago when he was prospecting for gold along California’s Stanislaus River near the settlement of Tuttletown, less than a decade after the discovery at Sutter’s Mill set in motion the gold rush. He sets the stage with memories of digging for dirt and descriptions of the natural beauty of the area. In contrast lies the abandoned cabins and cottages of those who set out to strike it rich but, like so many, failed to make their golden dreams come true. Those that have stayed around are grizzled, poor and premature aged: “living dead men.”
One such example is Henry whom the prospector describes as living in a cottage that is peculiarly out of place: well-tended, featuring a flourishing garden outside and framed lithographs and china plates inside. The owner invites the narrator in to make himself at home “as was the custom of the day” as Grandpa Simpson might say. The conversation moves around to the decidedly feminine touch at work in the interior décor and Henry informs the narrator that his wife turned nineteen on her last birthday. Which just also happened to be the day they wed.
The events so described take place on Wednesday and the narrator learns that she is away and scheduled to return Saturday night. With each passing day, the narrator’s anticipation of meeting the woman intensifies. In the interim, he meets more prospectors as they casually drop in for a visit and inquire as to the state of her return. They also drop by to hear Henry read her latest correspondence. Saturday evening arrives and the narrator and Henry are joined by some of the grizzled miners. Curiously, she does not arrive at the expected time, causing Henry to grow anxious to the point that he actually faints and must be helped to bed by his acquaintances. As they make plans to leave, the narrator pleads with them to wait, believing that the woman has only been delayed slightly and will surely show up sooner rather than later.
At that point, they take the narrator aside and reveal the tragic reality of the situation: nineteen years ago his wife left briefly to visit her family and on her way back was captured during an Indian raid and never seen since. Her true fate remains unknown.
Henry has never been completely sane ever since, constantly going through the very same ritual every year around this time: the anniversary of the raid. Over the years, the other prospectors have also taken part in the ritual. When it began, there were twenty-seven companions to look after Henry. Only three are still left and in order to facilitate events they have taken to slipping their friend a sedative so that he goes to sleep rather than briefly go completely mad with memory and grief.
