"Dared I but say a prophecy,
As sang the holy men of old,
Of rock-built cities yet to be
Along these shining shores of gold,
Crowding athirst into the sea;
What wondrous marvels might be told!
Enough to know that empire here
Shall burn her loftiest, brightest star;
Here art and eloquence shall reign
As o'er the wolf-reared realm of old;
Here learned and famous from afar,
To pay their noble court, shall come,
And shall not seek or see in vain,
But look on all with wonder dumb."
Once more away from Sacramento we visited Marysville, which is a beautiful
brick town, laid out with great regularity and width of street, each house
nestling in flower-garden and shade, and is a place of extensive
manufactures and trade. We went from there to Colusa, where I reaped a
rich harvest of gain. Indeed I never found a people more lavish in the
expenditure of money, seeming to value it only for the good it dispensed.
Leaving Colusa, elated with the success we had met, we journeyed to
Marysville in a very happy state of mind that was doomed to undergo a
severe reverse on our arrival. When we started there were three hundred
dollars in "hard money" in my trunk, and when we arrived in Marysville my
heart sank within me and I could feel the blood leave the surface and my
face grow deadly cold when I learned that my trunk, which we had seen
stowed in the "boot" of the stage on starting, was not there on our
arrival. After a few moments, in which I considered what should be done, I
went to the stage agent, who telegraphed back to Colusa, and, after an
hour of deep and painful suspense, the answer came back that the trunk was
safe. By some singular omission the straps of the boot had not all been
buckled and my trunk had fallen out. It was picked up by some honest
farmer, who, believing that it belonged to a passenger in the stage, had
sent it to the office. The next morning it came to me, and I was amply
compensated for the delay in the kindness of the agent, who not only
expressed great regret for the mishap, but voluntarily defrayed all extra
expense incurred.
We next visited Chico, at that time the terminus of the Central Pacific
Railway, where I hoped to meet Elder Hobart, the friend I had so loved in
my childhood. After some search I found his daughter, from whom I was
pained to learn that he had closed his earthly pilgrimage but a short time
before. My pain was not for him who rested from such faithful labors, but
for those bereft. The daughter, although married, forgot not the friend of
early days; and I accepted with alacrity her invitation to visit her
house, where we had a season fraught with pleasant reminiscence.
We took the stage here for Red Bluff, the rain pouring in torrents and the
night dark as Erebus, it being the beginning of the regular rainy season
of this country. During the night we reached the Sacramento River, which
we could almost have imagined to be the Styx, with the sombre Charon for a
ferry-man, for we soon learned that we were obliged to cross upon a flat
boat. The wind was blowing in so fierce a gale that the boatmen could not
near the shore, and called upon the passengers for assistance. All the
gentlemen responded but one passenger, who, although a man, was not
gentle, settled himself upon the back seat and declared he would not pay
his passage and work it too. All attempts of the ladies to shame him into
activity were useless. He could not be induced to leave his snuggery, and
even as we talked he was lustily snoring. So do some selfish natures
smoothly slip through the emergencies of life, leaving to others the
responsibilities and exertion; and this man I was afterwards told was a
professional humorist, actually a humorous writer for the press, and I
must accept this as one of his jokes.
After three weary hours we drifted to the shore, and next day went to Red
Bluff, a wild, uncanny place, but abounding in wealth and replete with
generous hearts, of whose bounty I was a rich recipient.
Thence we went to Shasta, where Mr. Hudson, a cousin of Hattie, had rooms
in readiness for us at the American Hotel. The meeting of the cousins,
after a separation of nineteen years, was a joyous one, their animated
conversation keeping time with the quick, impetuous throbbing of their
hearts. The pleasure of our day there was also much enhanced by the
sprightly--even brilliant conversation of the hotel proprietress, Mrs.
Green, whose three-score years and ten were worn as gracefully as many a
maiden's sweet sixteen.
As a protracted rain seemed inevitable, and all business possibilities
were precluded, we assented to Mr. Hudson's proposition to visit his
bachelor quarters in the country, which we found to be one of the most
romantic, sylvan shades imaginable, with its little three roomed-cot
embowered in vines and running roses, then in full bloom, and after the
storm, radiant in color, freighted with perfume and sparkling with liquid
gems. Alone he had occupied this secluded spot for nineteen years, and in
his isolation--
"Had made him friends of mountains;
With the stars and the quick spirits of the Universe,
He held his dialogues,
And they did teach to him
The magic of their mysteries."
He was as familiar as a hunter, with every trail in the vicinity, and he
took us through every romantic, winding path, one of which led us to an
elevation commanding a view of Mount Shasta, the highest peak of the Coast
Range.
Reluctantly we left this "pleasure dome," which, although less stately
than that "in Xanadu of Kubla Kahn," held all the fairy charms of a bright
Eutopia; and with the vain regrets which all must feel who leave some
fancy realm for the cold regions of reality, we took the stage route for
Weaversville, forty miles farther up the mountain heights, whose crests
were now white with snow, and the road in many places running within six
inches of the ragged chasms, thousands of feet in depth.
Our stage was drawn by four horses, and, at one time, the snow accumulated
around the foot of one of the leaders until it formed a huge ball, and
with this impediment he was partially precipitated over the edge of a
precipice. This noble animal exhibited more presence of mind than would
have characterized many human beings under similar circumstances, and,
with great judgment, gradually extricated the foot from its snowy burden,
and resumed his journey, but not before the face of every passenger was
blanched with terror.
After a few days at Weaversville, we returned to Sacramento, feeling that
we had enjoyed a pleasant and profitable trip.