The system was all right, though.

They wallowed around in the hot, clean sand, like chickens, and kept healthy.

Since they took to wearing clothes they've been petering out, and dying of dirt and assorted diseases.
They ran this ferry monopoly by means of boats made of tules, charged a scand'lous low price, and everything was happy and lovely.

I ran on a little bar and panned out some dust, so I camped a while, washing gold, getting friendly with the Yumas, and talking horse and other things with the immigrants.
About a month of this, and the Texas boys drifted in.

Seems they sort of overdid the scalp matter, and got found out.