THE LITTLE VALLEY--THREE MARTYRS--MOUNTAIN LIFE--THE POOR
DOES--CASTOR-OIL--A SICK DOG--THE CARPENTARO--GREY SQUIRREL--DIGGER
INDIANS--RED-WOOD TREE--AMERICAN RIFLES--GRIZZLY BEAR HUNT--SHELDON
WOUNDED--DIFFICULTY IN KILLING THE BEAR--HABITS OF THE BEAR--A
THIEF.
_September, 1850._
The country which we now traversed consisted of a series of small
round-topped hills, uniform in size but varying in feature. The whole
had been long since subjected to violent volcanic action, so whilst one
hill was crowned with a grotesque mass of rock and cinder, round which
the tall wild oats waved desolately, the next enchanted the eye with a
profusion of evergreen oaks and flowering arbutus. These hills altered
in character as they had been subjected to, or had escaped from the
volcanic shower; thus whilst on one side was a huge mound of lava
destitute of all vegetation, on the other was a dense mass of rich
underwood, from which rose groups of the stately red-wood tree.
We saw several old craters, and the cindery desolation that encircled
them for some distance yielded suddenly to the encroachment of
vegetation; a strife for mastery between these two had existed, and you
may believe, if you please, as I do, the volcanic agency to have been
under the management of an evil gnome, the wild vines and arbutus to
have been protected by a good fay, and that after numerous fierce
engagements, a lasting peace had been concluded and the territory
equally divided.
We put up several hares and covies of partridges, whose parents had
never been shot at, and we fully satisfied ourselves as to the existence
in abundance of both bears and deer.
Arrived at the summit of a hill, the little valley we were in search of
lay at our feet. It was scarcely twenty acres in extent, level as a
table, bounded on one side by masses of red-wood trees, and on the other
by a fine stream, whose banks were shaded with alders and wild vines.
The valley itself was free from shrub or tree, excepting that from the
centre there rose a clump of seven gigantic red-woods, which growing in
a circle, and meeting at the roots, formed a natural chamber to which
there was but one inlet.
As the land we were on belonged to the United States government, I
determined to take March’s advice, and _squat_ on this valley, for I
became at once enchanted with it, as indeed were my companions: I
therefore affixed to the red-wood trees a paper I had long prepared and
kept in my knapsack for immediate use, and which ordered all men to take
notice that F. M. claimed, under the laws of pre-emption, one hundred
and fifty acres of land measuring from that spot, and that he intended
to defend his right by force of arms, &c. &c.
Considering that, saving the wild Indians, human foot had probably never
crossed the spot, the notice scarcely seemed necessary, and the Indians
did not respect it, as I shall have occasion to show hereafter.
By the time we had walked thoroughly over the property and discovered
fresh advantages, and had drunk of the stream and found the water
excellent, it was dusk, and not being sufficiently satisfied with our
landmarks, to try our way back to our camp that night, we determined on
passing it in the red-wood clump; the fire was soon stacked and
lighted--that jolly camp-fire that on the instant suffuses everything
around it with its cheerful ruddy glow, and sends its sharp crackle
merrily up through the air, throwing a charm over the most inhospitable
desert, and giving a zest to the hunter’s meal be it ever so homely.
How naturally as we sit around it we recall the memory of wet seasons,
When benighted, damp, chilly, and tired, we selected amidst the falling
mist, the driest and most sheltered spot in the wet brushwood; how we
laugh now at the vain attempt to kindle damp leaves and undergrowth; the
partial success that engendered hope, only to render the failure of the
last match more intolerable; the dark long night, dreary, drizzling,
with one of us on guard for danger, and all unable to sleep, watching
impatiently for the morning, with the first dull streak of which we
stretch our half stiffened limbs, and shouldering the dead game, that no
camp-fire over night converted into a well-earned and needful supper,
seek some sheltered spot elsewhere, and make a breakfast of it. The
recollection of nights like these--and they fall to the lot of every
hunter--causes one to contemplate the blazing embers with a simple
gratitude, that is not always engendered elsewhere by the possession of
the comforts of this world.
We had a leash of hares, which being skinned and cleaned were impaled on
withers and placed at the fire to roast, where they looked like three
martyrs flayed alive, and staked. Whilst they were cooking we filled the
red-wood clump with several armfuls of long oat-straw from the adjacent
hill.
[Illustration]
After worrying the three hares, we lighted our pipes, and picquetting
the dogs round us, we gave ourselves up to the pleasures of a comparison
of the happiness of our position as compared with that of other men, and
then I sunk into a gentle slumber (of course), while my companions
snored in unison with the dogs.
We rose with the sun; and properly speaking, I should take advantage of
that fact to inform the reader what part of the surrounding scenery was
first bathed in yellow light, and what remained in obscurity; what the
deep blue of the distant mountains contrasted with, and what completed
the picture in the foreground: but these things are to be found better
described in any book of travels of the day; and moreover, at the time
of which I am writing, I was not gazing at the landscape, but was
proceeding rather unpoetically to bathe in the river, munching on my way
the leg of a cold martyr.
In the course of the day we moved our baggage from March’s Mill to our
new possession, where I determined on passing the winter.
I decided upon enclosing the valley and rendering it fit for
agricultural purposes, but as the winter was approaching, I saw that the
first thing requisite was to send for a quantity of useful articles that
I had stored in readiness at Sonoma, and which consisted of carpenter’s
tools, blankets, powder and shot, books, and a small quantity of
groceries. For these I despatched Thomas, and the red-wood clump having
been perfected in its internal accommodations, by the addition of a
boarded floor, a brushwood roof, with a convenient rack for the rifles,
and a secure magazine for the powder, Barnes commenced laying his axe to
the red-wood trees on the other side of the stream, whilst I shouldered
my rifle and supplied the larder.
There is but one species of deer here--the black-tailed--and the
venison, though generally fat, is insipid, owing perhaps to the fact
that the dry season parches up every blade of green stuff, and the deer
live on the long self-made hay, which in some parts is very plentiful,
but not nutritious. The deer are generally found in herds of from five
to seven, and it requires great caution to “bag them.”
[Illustration]
As the wind at this season of the year blows with little variation from
the same point, my ground was almost always of the same nature, the
river being in my rear, and the mountains before me. Stalking was out of
the question, for from the peculiar formation of the country, which
consisted of a series of undulations, no extended view could be procured
of a herd, and the long grass which afforded them cover abounded with
rattle-snakes. The only plan in such a country is to keep your eyes
about you, not forgetting the ground, and walk the deer up, against the
wind of course, taking advantage of any cover that may be in your path,
in the shape of a rock, and using great caution in showing yourself over
the rising ground. The herd will probably then start up with a bound
from the long oat-straw at your feet, but seldom afford a fine shot, as
they plunge away half concealed by it; now you throw yourself down, and
see, the herd has stopped within a hundred yards of you; and here a buck
advances chivalrously in defence of his harem--five paces--ten--now he
is troubled; for although there is pride in his nostrils, and anger in
his stamping hoof, there is indecision in those working ears, and by his
eye you may read that if anything very ugly appears, he will run away.
But a doe advances; this nerves her lord to a few paces more;--now you
may fire;--full at the shoulder;--crash--poor buck! Now load again, and
then rush up and cut his throat, he is stone dead; rattle, tattle,
tattle, tattle,--mind the snake! Now flay him, if you want the skin, or
quarter him if you don’t: this done you can carry home a haunch, the
skin, the antlers, the tongue and the brains, and these, with your
accoutrements and the hot sun, will probably tire you before you get
home. In the evening the poor does, with their soft hearts still
palpitating, from the nasty noise your rifle made, and the very ugly
appearance of yourself generally, will stand in a group, and turn their
wistful eyes in the direction where last they saw their master, and
wonder--poor innocents--why he is not there as usual to lead them
proudly down to the stream, and take his station on the bank to ward off
any danger whilst they drink. Night comes, but he does not appear; then
they wander about, and cry and pass a miserable night, whilst you are
making a good supper off the buck, and are speaking jocularly of him as
a “fat old rascal.”
The deer is very inquisitive, and if when you have walked up a herd, and
have thrown yourself down, in the long grass, you extend your loading
rod above your head, with a piece of rag attached to it, the bucks will,
even though they wind you, generally approach within killing distance,
which, when shooting as I was, for subsistence, should not be more than
_seventy yards_ if possible. It is always better to make this rule when
shooting for the “larder.” Where game is thin, fire at nothing that you
don’t think certain, until the day wanes, and necessity and an empty
stomach oblige you to shoot at everything you see. Where game is wild
and difficult to approach, and you are living on your gun, too much
precaution cannot be taken to insure, if possible, the bagging of
everything you hit; for if anything makes sporting cruel, it is the
habit that some have of trying long shots, and sending poor brutes away
to die a lingering death in the brush. Moreover, I was much in the
position of a man with a preserve, and that not overstocked. I could not
afford to drive my game, by careless shooting, out of my own beat, and
the nature of my country was such that the want of cover in the
undulating hills rendered the deer very alert whilst feeding there, and
when they took to the mountains in alarm they were lost to the hunter,
if alone, so far as this, that they invariably managed to keep a large
sized hill between him and themselves; for the Russian River deer are
actually _cunning_, and never did I see one take to a ravine, or lay
himself open in any way when once he ascended the steep. I have often
killed before I have left the house twenty minutes, but far more
frequently have walked the whole day without seeing a deer.
We recovered some wounded deer with the assistance of the blood-hound,
Prince; but just as he became useful, he was attacked by a distemper
peculiar to the country, which affects the hindquarters with paralysis,
and generally kills. I think I saved Prince’s life by administering a
tremendous dose of castor-oil on the first appearance of his symptoms,
but he was a very sick dog for a long time, and staggered like a three
days’ old calf. Having mentioned castor-oil, I wish to do justice to its
invaluable qualities, which would not perhaps have been so thoroughly
tested by us were it not that our sole stock of medicine consisted of
two quart bottles of it. It was successfully applied to both man and
beast in every complaint, and acted with a little tobacco-leaf, as a
balm for all outward wounds.
Barnes, who was a famous axe-man and was possessed of unusual physical
strength and endurance, soon felled a large number of the giant
red-woods in the rear of our valley, in order to split them and convert
them into rails for enclosing the farm. If we should speak well of the
bridge that carries us over, we should also speak well of the tree that
roofs us in for the winter, but the red-wood tree (Arbor Vitæ) deserves
especial notice on its own merits, which I shall proceed to detail. The
size and height attained by the red-wood in California are very
wonderful, and faithful accounts of these trees have been received with
incredulity. The average size of the full-grown trees may be quoted at
from five to six feet in diameter, and about 150 feet in height. This
tree maintains in some instances so perfect a perpendicular, that in
felling it on a calm day, if one is cut towards the centre, a very small
portion of the heart will sustain the immense trunk. The largest tree we
discovered at Russian River was not far from the house. Measuring it six
feet above the ground, its circumference was 40 feet, and its height
about 200 feet. But in Calaveras county, a group of trees exists which
measure respectively, 27 feet, 20 feet, 23 feet, 18 feet, and 16 feet in
diameter, and from 200 feet to 250 feet in height. The largest of these
was felled and the bark removed to San Francisco, where it was erected
in its original position, and formed a capacious room.
The timber of the red-wood is very durable, and is so easily worked that
a man needs but an axe, a betel and a few wedges, to convert the largest
of them, provided they are free from knots, into planks, rails or
clap-boards, and I have seen Barnes fell a huge fellow, and in less than
a fortnight he has carried it all away but the boughs and the bark. It
is a fine sight to watch one of these trees fall to the axe; leaving the
perpendicular at first so leisurely; then gathering impetus as it nears
the ground, crushing all it meets, making the earth vibrate with its
shock, and sending forth a booming echo, that startles the game far and
wide. The bark of the red-wood is perforated in every direction, and
with great regularity, by a kind of starling, called, from this
peculiarity, _carpentaro_, or carpenter. These birds form cells in the
tree with great assiduity, and deposit therein acorns, which fit very
tightly. They are very quaint and noisy, and employ themselves
continually, when not fighting, in depositing acorns in the red-woods.
You may see a dozen of them clinging to the bark of one tree in the most
uncomfortable positions, pecking away, each at a hole. But the
carpentaros work for the more lazy portion of creation, and one of their
enemies is the beautiful grey squirrel which abounds here. I have often
watched a grey squirrel ascend a red-wood; for the birds work in the
upper part of the tree. He is immediately surrounded by carpentaros,
who, knowing him of old, are at no loss to divine his object, but the
open day robber, nothing daunted, at once extracts an acorn, and popping
it in his mouth, he turns his head from side to side in the quaintest
manner possible, as if to say to the birds that chatter around him,
“Pray go on, don’t mind my feelings.” Then down he comes whisking his
beautiful silvery tail. Then the carpentaros assemble round the pillaged
hole, and scream over the matter so much that you may imagine them to be
abusing the squirrel in their choicest slang; and presently up comes
grey squirrel again for another acorn, having found the first so good;
and then, fresh carpentaros having arrived, the noise becomes so
intolerable, that the most enthusiastic of naturalists would walk off
with his fingers in his ears. The grizzly bear also takes advantage of
the exposed condition of the carpentaro’s winter provision, and climbs
the red-wood in much the same fashion as the grey squirrel, though less
gracefully; so they say: I never saw a bear in this position, and if
unarmed I should not wait to study his habits, if I did; for although
naturalists tell us that the bear is graminivorous, there is no doubt
that the grizzly would sacrifice all the acorns that grow for a juicy
piece of the calf of one’s leg.
The carpentaro has a more destructive enemy than even the squirrel or
the bear, and a greater beast than either--the Digger Indian. These
miserable specimens of humanity will light a fire at the root of a
well-stocked red-wood tree until it falls; they then extract the
carpentaro’s acorns and fill many baskets full, which they carry away.
“Eat as much as you like, but pocket none,” the justly indignant
carpentaros might say.
The red-wood tree is the main-stay of California. The supply is
inexhaustible, but nature has been sufficiently capricious to make them
most abundant in very inaccessible spots, whilst the level plains are
covered with a short-grained dwarf oak, serviceable only for firewood.
But, however steep the mountains, the Californian red-wood has to fall
and to be fashioned to the use of man, and when a steam saw-mill gets
perched upon a mountain-top the romance of the forest is gone; its
silent grandeur no longer awes the mind; and the trees, whose size and
beauty caused such deep impressions and such grave reflections, fall
into insignificance as you see them torn into planks and packed on
waggons, whilst the once still forest resounds to the sound of the axe
and the shrill whistle of the steam-engine. I have been very
disappointed at finding these sudden changes in revisiting some of my
old hunting-grounds.
Thomas now arrived with our stores, which we unpacked with great
pleasure, as they had not seen the light since we had boxed them up
ourselves in England, and every article was associated with home. We set
to work, and in a fortnight had completed a two-roomed house, close to
the red-wood clump: we then converted that apartment into a larder and
storehouse.
It is not my intention to dwell very much upon the subject of
deer-shooting, as, even could I say what has not been said before by
mightier hunters than I, the subject has interest for sporting men
alone.
I have mentioned in the early part of this chapter, that bears were said
to be plentiful in the country I had chosen for my sojourn. The
Californian hunter holds the grizzly bear in great respect; and not
without reason, when we consider that this animal is difficult to kill,
that he is a relentless pursuer when wounded, and that he can run and
climb under ordinary circumstances, with more agility than his
assailant. On this account, and from the fact that you must, from the
nature of his haunts, attack him on foot, a wounded grizzly bear is a
worse enemy to encounter than a tiger. March had promised to make up a
bear hunt for us, and in a day or two he came over to the farm with two
hunters of the name of Sheldon and Carter; both hard-looking fellows,
carrying nothing but their rifles, a knife, and a Colt’s revolver, which
latter is invaluable in all kinds of hunting.
The Americans carried rifles of their own make; capital make too, though
too weak in the lock on account of the cheap price at which they are
supplied. The bore of their rifles seemed small for bear-shooting,
carrying a half-ounce ball, but they seemed to consider that their
skill in shooting counter-balanced this deficiency. I carried the only
rifle that I ever used of those I took out, one of German make, carrying
a ball of an ounce and a half. I should say here that our rifles were
often the subject of discussion with these honest fellows. I had two
Rigby’s with an accumulation of sights, which were perfectly useless for
my work, although they were beautifully finished weapons; and Barnes’s
friendly disputes concerning the relative merits of the American barrel,
with its enormous weight of metal and long point-blank range, and the
English lock, with its wholesome click, and the American stock, with its
carved butt, that gives so much steadiness to the muscles of the body
when you aim, resulted in a combination that was highly approved of by
all parties; for all these good qualities were amalgamated by the
construction of a new stock, and thus a rifle was produced that amongst
ourselves enjoyed great celebrity, and this rifle March has probably in
his possession to this day.
The German rifle, to which I have alluded, was rather too short, but
very true within a hundred yards, and its qualities were expressed by
its name, “shoulder-breaker,” engraved on the stock. It is a rare thing
to get a good rifle carrying a heavy ball.
We started at once in search of our bear--six in number--and accompanied
by a small dog belonging to Sheldon. It was not until the afternoon that
we struck upon a fresh bear sign, of which March had had previous
knowledge. The sign led into thick underwood in which the bear seeks
shade, but which is the worst of all places for killing him. March
disposed us in couples; we then spread and entered the thicket at a
partially cleared part. Almost immediately I heard a crash, and an angry
roar, and then a shot was fired to the left. It was necessary for us to
retrace our steps, on account of intervening jungle, to rejoin our
party, which done, the bear was in view. I was astonished at his size;
standing on his hind-legs with his mouth open like a thirsty dog, and
working himself up and down, he indicated that he felt the inconvenience
of the pellet that March had intended for his heart, but which had
lodged in his alimentary canal. However, in an instant, and as if by a
sudden impulse, he again assumed the position of a quadruped and bounded
towards March and Sheldon, clearing as much ground at each stride--for
he was as big as an ox--as would have done credit to the winner of the
Liverpool steeplechase. A shot from the right altered his course again
in that direction, for the grizzly bear will turn to the last
assailant, and this enforces the necessity of bear-hunters supporting
each other.
A momentary uncertainty on his part gave me an opportunity of troubling
him with one of my 1½ oz. balls, but this only elicited a grunt and a
rush in my direction. I confess that, as soon as my rifle was
discharged, I felt great inclination to disregard March’s directions,
which were, not to use my revolver, but if possible to _reload my rifle
directly I had fired_, under _all circumstances_. Whilst in a curious
state of uncertainty on this point, though loading, the bear swerved
suddenly on one side in chase of the little high-couraged dog that
belonged to Sheldon.
This dog had been in other bear-hunts and was generally very useful, for
the grizzly has a great suspicion of anything behind him, and if a dog
can be trained to worry his hams, the bear will turn round and round and
afford much facility to the hunters.
I fancy the dog must have got hurt or lost his pluck, for he now rushed
straight to his master, and the bear followed; Sheldon fired as the
grizzly approached, but without effect, and the next moment poor Sheldon
was down bathed in blood, one blow had carried away the flesh entirely
from one side of his face, fracturing his jaw-bone in the most
frightful manner.
The bear disappeared, and probably retired to die, whilst we carried
Sheldon home, with what feelings of grief I need not say. We sent him on
to Sonoma as soon as possible, and he afterwards recovered, though
dreadfully disfigured, and with the loss of an eye. It was perhaps on
account of this accident that we made up no more parties for the express
purpose of bear-hunting, but left it to chance to meet them, and as it
happened, accident threw very few in our way.
The chief difficulty in killing the grizzly bear arises from the
formation of his head, which is convex. The ball generally glances off
sufficiently to avoid the brain; you have in fact but three vital parts,
the back of the ear, the spine, and the heart; and it is said that the
grizzly bear will live long enough after being shot in the latter part
to do much mischief. He is always in motion, and I think the steadiest
of hunters will allow that his conduct when wounded is not calculated to
improve one’s aim. The very fact of finding that you hit him so often
without effect, destroys confidence, and the sudden rushes that the bear
makes at his assailant is a great trial to the hunter’s nerve. There are
many accidents of the description I witnessed on record, although I
know one or two instances of bears being killed at the first shot.
It appears to me that a recorder of travels has a difficulty to
surmount, which falls to the lot of no other writer, for whilst duty
admonishes him to give a strictly veracious account of everything that
comes before his notice (and of a great deal that does not), inclination
and the publisher prompt him to avoid prosiness, for this very good
reason, that if he enters into details he bores his readers; but then,
on the other hand, if he is not sufficiently specific, he is pronounced
a “superficial observer.”
This observation is induced by the necessity of my introducing, at all
costs, further accounts respecting the grizzly bear.
When we consider the weight of the grizzly, which often reaches fifteen
hundred pounds, the enormous strength of which he is possessed, as
evidenced by the limbs of trees which he will wrench from the trunk, and
his extraordinary speed and activity, we have reason (speaking as one
who lives in his vicinity) for congratulation that the animal is of
inoffensive habits, and avoids the presence of man. The sole instance to
the contrary is that in which you are unfortunate enough to invade the
domestic circle of the she-bear when accompanied by her cubs: she
invariably gives chase the instant she sees the intruder, who, if he is
wise, will “draw a bee-line” in an opposite direction. In running[5]
from a bear, the best plan is to turn round the side of a hill, for the
bear having then as it were two short legs and two long ones, can’t,
under such circumstances, run very fast. There is but one sized tree
that you can climb in safety in escaping from a bear, and you may run a
long way before you find it. It must be just too small for your pursuer
to climb up after you, and just too large for it to pull down, a nice
point to hit. The she-bear is invariably irascible when nursing, and
perhaps this accounts for the fact that the male-bear is seldom found in
her company; to her he leaves the education and support of their
progeny, whilst he seeks amusement elsewhere--I might say at his club,
for it is the habit of bears to congregate in threes or fours under a
tree for hours, and dance on their hams in a very ludicrous manner, with
no apparent ostensible object but that of passing the time away and
getting away from their wives.
I have heard many anecdotes related of grizzly bears. I choose the
following as characteristic of a well-established fact that the bear,
even when infuriated, not only acts from the instinct of
self-preservation, but seems loth to kill and mangle what it attacks.
In the hills round San José, an unarmed negro came suddenly on a she
grizzly with cubs. She pursued him, and fortunately for him struck him
on the head, which knocked him down, but did not of course (he being a
nigger) inflict any serious damage on the part assailed. The man wisely
remained perfectly still, whilst the bear, who knowing nothing about
“darkies’” heads, supposed she had gained the day by a _coup de main_,
retired for a short distance. After remaining quiet, as he supposed,
sufficiently long, the negro thought of getting up, but his first
movement was arrested by a crack on the other side of his head, and down
he went again, and the bear retired to watch over his interests. It was
a long time before the negro again attempted to rise (for more reasons
than one), and this was not until the bear had quitted the spot,
apparently satisfied; but no sooner was Quashy up to look about him,
than the bear darted out from another quarter, and this time she did
poor Darky great injury: she tore his back and knocked him senseless,
and then half covered him up with leaves. After this she was quite
satisfied, and the negro was shortly afterwards discovered and
resuscitated, and felt quite unwell all the next day; but told this
story long afterwards to me with great satisfaction, and, I need not
add, with unimpeachable veracity.
I have mentioned the dexterity with which the Spaniard throws the lasso,
and the weapon has been successfully employed in entrapping the bear.
The noose is thrown over him when he is near a tree, and by riding in a
circle he is secured by a dozen thongs. This is one of the feats which
the Spaniards assure you they _can_ do.
Although the grizzly’s natural food consists probably of roots and
acorns, I suppose he must be ranked as omnivorous, for he certainly
crunches a bone with great gusto. The bears cleared off any bones that
were lying round our hut; and, in one instance, we shot at a couple that
came close to our door at night and stole the bones from under the noses
of the dogs. One bear walked away with a large piece of meat and the
iron hook on which it hung, but whether he swallowed the hook with the
bait, or pulled it out with his fingers, we never ascertained; he never
brought it back again, so we indulge in the hope that it sticks in his
jaws to this day, and that he has found out “qu’il n’y a point de roses
sans des épines.”
Bear meat is eatable, but very devoid of flavour, and I think the
grizzly indulges in too much gymnastic exercise to qualify him for the
table of the epicure. He figures in the bill-of-fare at all Californian
Restaurants, and, as a great number of the common black bears are caught
alive in traps, the San Francisco hairdresser has no difficulty in
“sacrificing, on any occasion, a real animal for the benefit of his
customers.”