niner

It had been the home of a "Forty-niner," and he was dead and forgotten, his dust as easily accounted for as his winged gold.

I well remember,” writes a Forty-Niner, “the loneliness and dreariness amid all the excitement of the time.

A 'forty-niner' ain't apt to be lazy on the shoot, an' Father's gun spit first.

His rest was the Forty-niner's arm, as mine is the sportsman's hand.

The old "forty-niner" approached the waggon with a withering glance at the repacked cargo.