COYOTE HUNTING--MY DOMINIONS ARE INVADED--THOMAS KILLS A BEAR--A
TRIAL OF STRENGTH--ROWE’S “LOT”--CHOCTAW ELK--A BUTCHERY--ROUGH
LIFE--FERTILITY OF THE SOIL.
_June, 1851._
Our first duty, on arriving at Vallejo, was to erect a temporary shanty,
and before we had been long there the materials for about fifty houses
were scattered over the ground by various speculators. Ramsey laid the
foundation of a small village on his own account, and built a
dwelling-house, a livery stable, and another grog-shop, in which his
champagne and tin pannikins were soon rattling away, as of old, to the
sound of the fiddle.
As soon as I had erected the iron house, to which I have already alluded
in terms of bitterness, we tried the projected coyote hunt. I had two
horses; one was an old grey “Texian Ranger,” who had seen so much hard
service that, when once adrift, he was neither to be caught with chaff
or the best of oats, but had to be lassoed and dragged home by main
force; once assured, by means of spurs, and bottles of water broken on
his head when he reared, and sticks broken on his side when he
buck-jumped, that he was “bound to go,” as they say here, “the Old
Soldier” (for so I named him) proved an animal of great speed and
endurance, and afterwards performed his eighty miles in a day with me
without flinching. The other was a handsome bay that I had bought from a
retiring watchmaker, and he retained the name his last master had
bestowed in honour of his shop, “Main Spring.”
My Australian Kangaroo dogs were a cross between the bull-dog or
bull-mastiff and the greyhound; like the generality of cross-bred
greyhounds, they differed only from the thoroughbreds in increased size,
muscle, and breadth of chest; they ran of course from sight, but were
not devoid of nose.
Of the three I had procured but two proved of any value, Tiger and
Bevis, and these I coupled for an experimental hunt. I trust I may be
excused from the charge of egotism in thus mentioning these animals in
detail; they were my companions up to the very day I left the country;
and being associated with the adventures I am sketching they will appear
in my narrative from time to time. With all his faults I owe a debt of
gratitude to the “Old Soldier.”
Stealing quietly away to the surrounding hills, with Ramsey on the “Old
Soldier,” we soon found a coyote, and I slipped the dogs; he made a
straight run, but there was no chance for him, and in less than five
hundred yards he was caught and worried without a fight, and I whipped
the dogs off. I was disappointed; I had hoped that the coyote would not
only run well, but would make some kind of stand at the finish; but we
found him invariably devoid of any pluck. Some that we afterwards saw
would make an excellent start and then turn round and attempt to
fraternise with the dogs, and these, after a time, began to recognise
something of the nature of the cur in this conduct, and, after rolling
the coyote over, would turn back without injuring him.[10] So that our
coursing was deferred until we reached the hare country, where the dogs
showed to better advantage, and generally killed, the hare of the
country being rather a fool than otherwise.
It became necessary now for me to return to Russian River, and, as
Ramsey and a Mr. Bottomly were anxious to accompany me, we made up a
four-in-hand out of a pair of Ramsey’s horses and mine, and, throwing
our blankets into the old waggon that constituted our drag, we put
Tiger and Bevis inside to save their feet, and started.
We arrived without accident at the river, and I found that now the rains
were over, settlers were flocking in from all sides. The river was still
very high owing to the melting snow at its source; and when the waggon
floated for a minute or two as we crossed the centre of the ford, and
then filled to my companions’ knees, they evidently viewed with great
interest this, to them, novel feature in “tooling a four in hand.”
The sun was intensely hot, and when we had reached the opposite bank of
the river, we pulled up in the shade to dine, the provisions having been
secured against all injury in crossing the river. Ramsey insisted on
drinking an immense quantity of the river, which, however, he qualified
with brandy; and after having in consequence expended a large amount of
second-hand poetry on the surrounding scenery, nothing would please him
but he must alter the tails of his two Canadian switch tail ponies, to
make them match with those of Mainspring and the Old Soldier, which were
banged. I remonstrated with him on the folly of spoiling two valuable
animals, whose chief beauty consisted in their manes and tails, but he
would do it; and having cut one tail about a foot shorter than the
other with a blunt table knife, he left them pretty objects. Imagine my
disgust when the fellow remarked, after gravely contemplating them,
“Sh’no consequence, s’hey don’t b’long to me.” I got into trouble about
them afterwards, as will be seen.
In the cool of the evening we arrived at the farm, where I found
everybody well, and glad to see me back. As I had foreseen, settlers
were beginning even to invade _my_ dominions, and not only was the
romance of the place destroyed, but the game was retiring very rapidly,
and it required a long day’s walk to find venison. This of itself would
have determined me to leave the valley, but other causes hastened my
decision--firstly, _the onions were a failure_; they had come up, but
the ground squirrels had proved so numerous as to destroy all vestige of
the young plants; secondly, I had on one occasion disclosed at March’s
not only that I was _not_ a naturalised American, but that I had no
intention of bringing myself into contempt by deserting my own country
from interested motives, as too many I regret to say have done. This had
become known among the crowd of settlers that were now hunting for
pre-emption claims; they also knew, as of course there were a few
Philadelphia lawyers among them, that as an alien I had no right to the
valley. Some of them called upon me to tell me so, but these left
however quicker than they came. Under all the circumstances, and
particularly as I never could have resided among such a set as were now
“locating” themselves about the place, I made a virtue of necessity, and
gave the farm as it stood (excepting the cattle and my books and
shooting materials) to one of the backwoodsmen I had known there for
some time.
During this last visit to the old place, however, we enjoyed ourselves;
the green peas had arrived at perfection, and the young fawns were
excellent substitutes for lamb. Tiger and Bevis afforded us some
coursing, and Ramsey found out for the first time in his life what it
was to stand knee deep in a running stream and wash a flannel shirt
without soap.
Whilst we were absent one night on an excursion, Thomas, who remained at
home, distinguished himself by shooting a valuable milch cow, that had
been brought up by one of the new settlers, and which, having strayed
near the house, he mistook in the dark for a wild bull or a bear. When
we returned in the morning, Thomas, in great trepidation, had just
completed burying the carcase near the house, and we were still laughing
over the matter, when a tall settler appeared amongst us and inquired if
we had seen “e’er a cow,” to which Thomas, knowing that the settler had
followed his cow’s trail, fortunately replied in the affirmative, and
suggested a distant hill as a celebrated rendezvous for strayed cows in
general, on account of the fine quality of its spring water; thither the
settler wended his way, after satisfying himself with a few rapid and
suspicious glances that we had venison hanging about instead of beef,
and that no symptom of cow was stamped about the place. As he turned
once more to call three wiry-looking, gamboge-coloured curs, that he had
brought with him, and which had been sniffing about, I observed with
horror that the brutes were on the cow’s grave, scratching away
bravely--“Seize them, Tiger! At them, Prince! Bevis!” and these
disturbers of the dead flew for their lives, and as I called the dogs
off, evidenced no disposition to return, although my brave defenders
immediately had a battle royal over the dainty morsel which had thus
been brought to light.
I have already alluded to Barnes’s physical strength; in Norfolk he was
always an expert axeman, even with the stupid broad-headed Flemish axe,
that we still adhere to in England, but his six months’ training at the
farm with the American axe had so improved on his former strike and
natural powers of endurance, that he was induced one night to boast of
his prowess whilst in company with some backwoodsmen at March’s shanty.
It had already been proved that no one of the party was a match for him,
as I had given him permission to fell for March’s saw-mill in his
leisure hours, (at which work I may mention he often made his thirty
shillings a day,) March therefore undertook to bring a man called
Alexander, to take “the shine out of Barnes,” and during our stay this
man arrived. He was a Hercules in muscle though spare, and when, a tree
having been selected, the men “stripped for work” as _Bell’s Life_ would
say, there was little to choose between them in appearance, though I
thought I saw an advantage on Barnes’s side in point of loins. To me it
is delightful to witness a fair trial of skill and dexterity between two
picked athletæ, where, as in this instance, the pleasure is unalloyed by
any brutal exhibition of inflicted punishment. Our party and that of the
Americans were equally excited, but no bets were made, and there was no
boastful confidence in the issue on either side. I have mentioned
elsewhere that the red-wood tree retains in its growth sometimes so
perfect a perpendicular that it may be cut round its centre, and yet
remains erect on a calm day, supported but by a few inches of the heart.
A tree having therefore been selected of about eight feet diameter, as
nearly as I can recollect, the men were placed on either side, and a few
straight lines for their guidance having been chalked on the bark, they
commenced work, the man on whose side the tree fell, to be declared the
winner, as he of course would have cut the deepest. For the first part
of the day the champions worked manfully stroke for stroke, and the
issue seemed to the last doubtful, but at length the strokes became
weaker and slower, and then Barnes seemed to have kept something back
for the finish, for after a few vigorous drives, the huge tree fell over
on his side, and came thundering to the ground. It was a touch and go
victory; and caused no ill feeling; but Barnes on returning home was
very unwell from over exertion, and during the night he wandered in his
head; the next day, however, he was quite well; but the “shine” was
taken out of him although he won.
I bade farewell to the little valley before its charms had so palled
upon me by use as to render me indifferent to its possession, but its
great charm of seclusion that first bound me to it was lost, and in my
eyes it was as much “cut up” by the presence of fresh settlers, as is
your country villa, sir, when a rushing railway, marking out its track
directly through your favourite clump of weeping willows, sends its hot
cinders on to the very lawn in front of you; but you were compensated
for your villa being smoke-begrimed, and sold it, moreover, on good
terms to Styles, who likes living near a railway, and being hourly
reminded that his country is making “giant strides,” whilst I, equally a
victim to the march of improvement, walked out without any other
reflection than that I had gone to a great deal of trouble for the sole
benefit of an utter stranger.
We arrived at Vallejo without accident. The appearance of the tailless
Canadian horses brought forward their indignant owner, who demanded of
me, as conductor of the expedition, an exorbitant sum, which I of course
refused to pay, upon which he went to law; and about the time that the
hotel was completed, an execution was put on it by the sheriff for the
amount claimed for two horses’ tails that I never touched.
We had very little sport at Vallejo; a few wild-fowl hung about the
marshes, but were very hard to secure; snipe and curlew also were
tolerably plentiful; but the sun was hot, and the yellow treeless hills
dazzled the eyes too much for shooting. Our guns therefore were shelved
for the present; but I found another source of amusement by fortunately
making the acquaintance of a young Englishman of the name of Rowe.
Rowe was a surveying engineer of good ability, and had, previous to
leaving England, scarified that country to a considerable extent in the
shape of tunnels and cuttings on railways. His present business in
Vallejo consisted in surveying and laying out the plan of that city,
which having completed, he was now transferring to a gorgeous map, on
which the Botanical Gardens, Orphan Asylums, and _Schools for the
Indigent Blind_ were already traced and lettered.
Rowe possessed about a dozen small Californian and Indian horses, and as
these brutes were not only now wild, but were of that peculiar breed
that can neither be tamed or fattened, I could not at first conceive
what object Rowe had in keeping them, especially as they were all small,
gaunt, and painfully ugly. I perceived that almost daily my new
acquaintance, dressed in Californian spurs and leggings, would mount the
horse that he generally kept by him (with the saddle always on), and
proceed in search of the others which he had turned out to graze on the
hills the night previous.
In the evening he would return as usual, driving his ill-looking pack
before him, and these, after being enclosed for a short time, would be
again turned out. On my suggesting that his animals seemed to cause him
more trouble than they were worth, he at once elucidated the mystery.
It appeared that he had received these scarecrows from time to time in
payment of bad debts, contracted for surveys of the surrounding farms;
they cost nothing to keep, as they lived on the wild oats, and the
reason he turned them out and brought them home each day, was for the
pleasure of hunting and catching them with the lasso when he could. I
soon joined him in this diversion, and the sport was most exciting. His
band, as soon as they saw us coming, would have an appearance similar to
this:--
[Illustration]
They would stand in a crowd together, looking at us out of the corners
of their eyes; then as we approached they would go over the hills and
gulches, whilst we rode after them, shouting and heading them back
whenever we could.
After two or three hours of this exercise, they would allow themselves
to be driven without much trouble into Rowe’s corral. I believe they
liked the sport; whether or no, they got it every day, and as it was all
they had to do, they were better off than most of their race. In fact,
the Old Soldier did the same work with me on his back, and liked it so
much that I could not hold him at last when once he got sight of these
scarecrows. He tried to catch them one day when in the gig, because they
suddenly appeared in sight, and if it had not been for a deep gulch that
brought us all up with a smash, I believe he would have “corralled” them
on his own account.
Rowe had an Indian pony of great power and endurance; it was named
“Chocktaw,” after the American Indian tribe, to which of right it
belonged. He had a head like a wedge of wood, and although tolerably
quiet under a severe Spanish bit, he had the habit of never taking his
eyes off you. He was always suspicious, if you walked round him, and
would follow you with his wild colt’s eye.
Chocktaw combined the sure-footedness of the mule, with the speed of
the horse, and the capability of the donkey of living and doing well
upon comparatively nothing, which was so far fortunate for him as he was
occasionally locked up and forgotten for a day or two, during which
periods of trial he generally munched shavings, and upon being
remembered and released became more suspicious than ever.
Chocktaw and the Old Soldier became fast friends, so much so, that the
latter kicked other horses on Chocktaw’s account, and took him under his
protection generally, even to the length of eating Chocktaw’s oats
(which he got on Sundays), for fear, no doubt, they should disagree with
his Indian stomach; whether this made him more suspicious or not, I
don’t know, but Chocktaw never took his eyes off his friend for all
their affection.
The unhappy Chocktaw is typical of a class of men who live continually
in the torment of half-confirmed suspicions--innocents, who, stopping
half-way in their study of the world, are ever doubting and fearing, yet
never learning, force the lesson on them as you will;--“Chocktaws” to
whom “Old Soldiers” are necessary--these latter cheating them, yet
preventing others from doing so; finding brains for them; kicking other
horses for them, but eating _their oats as recompense_. Unhappy then the
Chocktaw who wriggles, as it were, in the half-consciousness of being
outwitted, and torments himself with vain suspicions. Far more to be
envied he who can clap his persecuting protector on the back, and own
him to be “necessary but expensive;” his mind is at ease from that time
forth; he can pay his bully as he does his income-tax, and get more for
his money.
News was brought in one day that a band of elk had been seen near the
place, and upon this the whole population turned out. Independently of
the fact that I feared being shot by some of the party, among whom were
several boys, armed with rifles, I knew that the Elk does were heavy at
this season, and I had no mind to assist in a butchery. The drove was
headed about nightfall in marshy ground, and about _eighteen does_ were
killed.
I was sorry to have lost the chance of hitting the slot of these beasts,
for the bucks might easily have been secured with care, whereas,
approached as they were, whilst drinking in marshy and treacherous
ground, the bucks being on the outskirts made for the hills, whilst the
poor frightened does became quagmired, and fell an easy prey.
About this time I received a visit from Sir Henry Huntly, and we started
on an exploring expedition, but losing our way, found ourselves at
length near Napa. Pulling up temporarily at a small house at the side
of the creek to enquire the road, we found it occupied by half-a-dozen
fine-looking fellows, who were sitting over their supper. The invitation
to join them was too heartily offered to refuse, and Sir Henry and
myself being armed each with a cast-iron knife and tin platter, attacked
the provisions as men do who lose their way, and fall happily and
unexpectedly on a savoury stew of antelope. We were glad enough also to
be so kindly invited to pass the night there, for a day passed in the
hot sun is very fatiguing, and once down, a man has to be kicked up
again, particularly after a surfeit of antelope stew. So we lit our
pipes, and then, as a matter of course, we allowed gradually to leak out
who and what we were. Our entertainers consisted of four Americans and
two Englishmen. These latter were army-men, who had thrown up their
commissions in Canada to seek a rough and adventurous life in exchange
for the dull routine of barracks. So far as roughness went, they had it
in perfection, and they stood it well; but the _roughest_ roughness
palls, and an adventurous life, with its fevers and privations, and hard
toil in the blistering sun, soon loses its charms, and then comes the
yearning for home, and it is best then to have something _to fall back
upon_.
There are few after all to whom either roughness or adventurous life
comes aptly, although the proud man scorns to _own_ he feels the
privation he has sought as it were; but few of those who have sacrificed
position, comforts, and friends elsewhere, for the pursuit of freedom
and adventure, with wealth of course appearing in the distance, have
realised their dreams, or have done otherwise in the long run than own
their folly, and mourn it secretly. Some men are born for a wild and
careless life--a happy liveliness of disposition, knowledge of the
world, physical health, recklessness of personal safety, indifference to
social position and home comfort, all fit them for it; their creed is to
do as no one else does, (and they do _none_ the worse for this); these
men are few in number, and they can live when others starve. Observe the
man in a hunting-field, who strikes out his own line of country, and
that a new one to him; each fence may conceal a marl-pit, but he faces
bravely all obstacles, and comes in right at last. Rash fool! says Jones
as he opens a gate. Stupid ass! echoes Brown as he creeps through a gap!
But no! Brown and Jones would be both fools and asses if they tried to
do it, but to this man such work comes naturally.
As a rule the fate of the minnows who will pursue an unbeaten track is
certain enough. It is generally a _great mistake_ when men throw up on
their own account a certain means of livelihood, to seek adventure and
fortune in new gold countries. It is generally a _great mistake_ when
fathers with spendthrift sons, stupid sons, or lazy sons, say, “John,
you are doing no good for yourself, here are five hundred pounds, go and
try your luck in the diggings.” It was a _great mistake_ when a party of
gentlemen left England in 1849 for California in a yacht of their own,
and having arrived at the diggings got disgusted, and returned very much
out at elbows, with most melancholy reports respecting the goldfields.
And these are great mistakes, for this reason, that patience under
disappointment, and a disposition that can ever look sanguinely into the
future, are as requisite for “_rough life_,” as strong _hands, witting
hearts and_ sound health.
Our entertainers occupied themselves in market-gardening, which is a
peaceful and unexciting profession; and as the whole party were animated
with a strong love of adventure, and were anxious for something more
soul-stirring than weeding and watering beds of cabbages, soon after I
last saw them they disbanded and dispersed, nor have I heard of them
since.
Vegetables attain an unusual size in California, owing to the rich
qualities of the maiden soil; but I have observed an insipidity in
everything that has thus rapidly matured, and size is attained at the
expense of loss of flavour. Onions and tomatas as large as cheese plates
are common. Melons have attained the weight of fifty pounds. Wheat and
oats grow to the height of eight and ten feet, and are very prolific in
the ear; potatoes reach dimensions unheard of elsewhere, and the
diameter of a cabbage is sometimes so large that the cabbage has to be
seen to be believed in.
A brutal murder had been committed at Napa previous to our arrival; the
murderer had been sentenced to death, and without any ostensible reason,
a free pardon for this felon was granted by the governor of the state.
During our stay here some of the most determined of the citizens of Napa
frustrated this act of ill-timed mercy, and the murderer was found hung
in his cell. No further notice was taken of the matter; but this act
cannot be justified under any circumstances, for as the people elected
the governor, and armed him with the right, had he so chosen, of setting
free every convicted felon in the state, their election was a farce if
his decision was not binding in the pardon he dispensed to the Napa
murderer.