After much labor in descending the Sierras, we came upon the first
settler's house we had seen since starting out. It stood in the valley
of the Sacramento, on what is called Bear Creek, and was owned by Mr.
Johnson, who himself was a Piker.
To me the house was odd looking, not because of being so small as to
have only two rooms, but because it was built half of logs and half
of adobes, or bricks of mud which have been dried in the sun. It was a
rough building, and yet how homelike it appeared!
Unfortunately Mr. Johnson and his family were not at home. The building
was closed, and although the door was not really locked, it had been
fastened with strips of rawhide in such a manner as to show that the
owner wished to keep out stragglers.
[Illustration]
As we journeyed leisurely and comfortably down the valley of the
Sacramento, we saw now and then large droves of wild horses and elks
feeding peacefully on the plains, and there was never a night when Eben
Jordan, or some other of the hunters, did not bring in an abundance of
game.