The California Gold Rush lasted from 1848 to 1855. During this time, there was an extremely selfish gold miner named George who lived in San Francisco. George’s best friend, Ted, was constantly helping the miner achieve his goals, no matter what they were. The pair would constantly raid the tents of the other gold miners in hopes of getting rich with minimal effort.
They were quite successful. In fact, they soon realized that they didn’t even need to go mining to get rich. Panning for gold was a slow, grueling process that often didn’t yield a very fruitful result. So, George and Ted soon became full-time robbers.
After a while, the miners in San Francisco became tired of being constantly plundered by the pair. One day, they finally banded together and stormed George’s tent, taking back all their stolen earnings. Poor and helpless, Ted managed to convince his furious friend that they needed to run away. They wouldn’t be able to live in that area of San Francisco after the incident.
The same thing happened after moving to the next camp…and the next…and the next. Finally, they realized that the only way to break the cycle would be to stop stealing. The pair moved to the hillier region of Southern California, where they again began to work hard to pan for the precious metal.
The first month, they found almost nothing.
The second month, they found only a couple small nuggets of gold.
Half a year passed like this, until George and Ted became tired of working so hard for so little.
After another taxing day under the scorching summer sun, George brought a large piece of gold to the tent.
“Where’d you get that?” Ted asked suspiciously. Despite his dislike of working diligently―or even at all―to make a living, he had always felt a bit guilty of all the looting he used to take part in.
“I found it,” George replied. His eyes glanced away for a split second.
“And…where’d you find it?” George’s longtime friend pressed.
Hesitating for a second, he muttered, “On a hill. There was a little pile of gold.”
Ted was on his feet in an instant. “We agreed, no more stealing! What’re you trying to do, George?” He stormed out of the tattered tent.
George rolled his eyes, muttering, “It’s just a single piece of gold, Ted. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
Meanwhile, high above the mining campground, a woman sat in the bright green grass. She wore a bright white robe decorated with scenes of forests and grasslands. She was known as Cota, the goddess of the weather and the wilds. Gazing sadly at the landscape around her, she noticed that the ground around the miners’ camp was gray and barren. Sighing, she directed a gust of wind towards the area, planting patches of grass in the area.
As the weeks dragged on, the woman noticed that her gold pile had become smaller and smaller. She used gold to keep balance in the weather. With less gold, she was having a harder time controlling everything going on in the world.
One night, as she was chilling the air, she saw a man sneak up the hill and grab a piece of gold from her precious stash. Immediately confronting him, Cota quickly took back her gold nugget. Then, she tied up the man with vines.
Another male voice suddenly called out, “George, I said stop! Why are you trying to steal fro-”
Upon seeing George bound, and a woman standing next to him with a furious expression, the man took a hasty step back.
Cota frowned at the new intruder, and exclaimed, “Who are you two, and why are you on this hill?”
The man said, “The one you tied up is George. I’m Ted. See, George here has gotten in the habit of stealing gold from this pile, which I suppose belongs to you. We’re miners.”
Fury flashed across Cota’s face, followed by disgust. Then she turned towards George, declaring, “You, miner, have been stealing from Cota, Goddess of the weather and the wilds.
As punishment to you, and to ensure that your mistake is remembered forever, this land beneath me will be cursed to stay dry and yellow. You can stay here forever, staring at this land, remembering exactly how you have brought such a drought to once beautiful lands. This is your punishment.”
You might be wondering, if the hills were cursed to stay yellow forever, why do they turn green again in the winter? Turns out, as Cota is the goddess of the wilds, she takes on the habits of some wild animals―including hibernation. And when Cota hibernates, she expends all the energy she can on the most necessary spells, meaning that she can’t afford to keep the hills dry in winter, when there is so much precipitation.
And this was how the goddess Cota turned California into a truly “golden” state.
They were quite successful. In fact, they soon realized that they didn’t even need to go mining to get rich. Panning for gold was a slow, grueling process that often didn’t yield a very fruitful result. So, George and Ted soon became full-time robbers.
After a while, the miners in San Francisco became tired of being constantly plundered by the pair. One day, they finally banded together and stormed George’s tent, taking back all their stolen earnings. Poor and helpless, Ted managed to convince his furious friend that they needed to run away. They wouldn’t be able to live in that area of San Francisco after the incident.
The same thing happened after moving to the next camp…and the next…and the next. Finally, they realized that the only way to break the cycle would be to stop stealing. The pair moved to the hillier region of Southern California, where they again began to work hard to pan for the precious metal.
The first month, they found almost nothing.
The second month, they found only a couple small nuggets of gold.
Half a year passed like this, until George and Ted became tired of working so hard for so little.
After another taxing day under the scorching summer sun, George brought a large piece of gold to the tent.
“Where’d you get that?” Ted asked suspiciously. Despite his dislike of working diligently―or even at all―to make a living, he had always felt a bit guilty of all the looting he used to take part in.
“I found it,” George replied. His eyes glanced away for a split second.
“And…where’d you find it?” George’s longtime friend pressed.
Hesitating for a second, he muttered, “On a hill. There was a little pile of gold.”
Ted was on his feet in an instant. “We agreed, no more stealing! What’re you trying to do, George?” He stormed out of the tattered tent.
George rolled his eyes, muttering, “It’s just a single piece of gold, Ted. What’s the worst that’ll happen?”
Meanwhile, high above the mining campground, a woman sat in the bright green grass. She wore a bright white robe decorated with scenes of forests and grasslands. She was known as Cota, the goddess of the weather and the wilds. Gazing sadly at the landscape around her, she noticed that the ground around the miners’ camp was gray and barren. Sighing, she directed a gust of wind towards the area, planting patches of grass in the area.
As the weeks dragged on, the woman noticed that her gold pile had become smaller and smaller. She used gold to keep balance in the weather. With less gold, she was having a harder time controlling everything going on in the world.
One night, as she was chilling the air, she saw a man sneak up the hill and grab a piece of gold from her precious stash. Immediately confronting him, Cota quickly took back her gold nugget. Then, she tied up the man with vines.
Another male voice suddenly called out, “George, I said stop! Why are you trying to steal fro-”
Upon seeing George bound, and a woman standing next to him with a furious expression, the man took a hasty step back.
Cota frowned at the new intruder, and exclaimed, “Who are you two, and why are you on this hill?”
The man said, “The one you tied up is George. I’m Ted. See, George here has gotten in the habit of stealing gold from this pile, which I suppose belongs to you. We’re miners.”
Fury flashed across Cota’s face, followed by disgust. Then she turned towards George, declaring, “You, miner, have been stealing from Cota, Goddess of the weather and the wilds.
As punishment to you, and to ensure that your mistake is remembered forever, this land beneath me will be cursed to stay dry and yellow. You can stay here forever, staring at this land, remembering exactly how you have brought such a drought to once beautiful lands. This is your punishment.”
You might be wondering, if the hills were cursed to stay yellow forever, why do they turn green again in the winter? Turns out, as Cota is the goddess of the wilds, she takes on the habits of some wild animals―including hibernation. And when Cota hibernates, she expends all the energy she can on the most necessary spells, meaning that she can’t afford to keep the hills dry in winter, when there is so much precipitation.
And this was how the goddess Cota turned California into a truly “golden” state.
