Paul) and San Pedro (or Saint Peter), guarded by islands called the
Brothers and the Sisters, the _Mary Ann_ entered San Pablo Bay, which
really was a round basin forming the north end of San Francisco Bay.
The bell below was ringing for dinner, but the _Mary Ann_ had turned
more toward the east, and against the land, in front, could be seen the
masts of more shipping.
"That must be at Mare Island, and at Benicia beyond," said Mr. Grigsby.
"You know how Mare Island gets its name? Because there used to be a
big herd of elk on it, led by an old mare. The Government's going to
make a naval station of it. Benicia is the town General Vallejo
donated the site of. There's where the army headquarters are being
built. Well, guess we'll have time to eat, before we get there."
"Come ahead, Charley," bade his father.
The dinner really was very good; and if anybody still was hungry, a
sign on the cook's galley announced, invitingly: "Pies One Dollar."
Charley saw several of the miners buying pies and eating them.
When the Adams party came up on deck again, the _Mary Ann_ had passed
Mare Island, where some vessels, among them two ships of war, were
anchored, and was entering a narrow opening named the Straits of
Carquinez. On the right the mountains approached very close. On the
left appeared more shipping, and the houses and tents of a town. This
was Benicia, and a prettily located place it was, too, with the ground
sloping upward, behind it, and the massy brown crest of Mount Diablo,
landmark seen from the Golden Gate, rising across the strait, before.
Beyond Benicia the straits opened into Suisun Bay--a pocket into which
emptied the Sacramento River and the San Joachin River. The San
Joaquin River came in on the south. Anybody going to the southern gold
mines would sail up the San Joachin to Stockton; but the _Mary Ann_ was
bound for the Sacramento and the northern mines; so she kept on,
through Suisun Bay, past a town of one house, on the south side, and
named (people said, laughing) the New-York-of-the-Pacific, for the
mouth of the Sacramento.
XVII
ON TO THE DIGGIN'S
Suisun Bay was bordered with reedy marshes where the rushes grew higher
than a man's head. It seemed to be a great hunting ground, for ducks,
geese and swans flew in armies--a beautiful sight in the sunset. These
quite excited the _Mary Ann's_ passengers, until suddenly somebody
noted, distant in the east, ahead, a long broken line of bluish white.
"Mountains!"
"Look at the mountains, boys!"
"No! Those are clouds."
"No, siree! Mountains, with snow on 'em!"
"Hooray for the Sierras, boys! There's where the gold lies."
"See them?" bade Mr. Grigsby, to Charley and his father. "That's the
main range of the Sierra Nevada--the Snowy Range, as the Spanish goes.
It divides California from the Great Desert. Over it Carson led
Frémont and us other fellows, in winter, through ten and twenty feet of
snow, to the headwaters of the American River and down the American
River to Sutter's Fort and the Sacramento. How far away is that range,
do you think?"
"Near a hundred miles, I should judge," calculated Mr. Adams.
Various passengers were guessing twenty, fifty, one hundred and two
hundred miles--making all kinds of wild assertions. But Charley's
father had struck pretty accurately, for he had seen mountains before,
in Mexico.
"Just about," approved Mr. Grigsby. "The nearest perhaps seventy-five.
But Sacramento's more than sixty miles yet, by the river, and the high
Sierras are one hundred miles up the American from there."
As evening fell, the _Mary Ann_ was entering a wide channel through the
marshes where the San Joaquin River from the south and the Sacramento,
further on the east, emptied into Suisun Bay. The mouth of the San
Joaquin, said several people, was narrow and shallow, and boats
ascending for Stockton and the southern mines frequently went aground
if the tide was out; but the Sacramento was wide and deep. A mist or
fog began to veil the shores and water, and passengers prepared to go
to bed. The Adams party decided to sleep rolled in their blankets on
deck--which suited Charley exactly. He had grown fond of this open-air
sleeping, and planks did not seem hard any more.
The breeze died, and in the dusk the anchor rattled out, holding the
schooner short, near the mouth of the Sacramento. All night the wild
fowl screamed--and all night the mosquitoes hummed. Charley stuck his
head under his blanket and slept fairly well.
The sun rose red, and so did many of the passengers, for the mosquitoes
had been fierce indeed. But everybody was good-natured; a few
hardships must be expected, in making a fortune. With the morning
breeze the _Mary Ann_ hoisted in her anchor. All sails set again, she
glided through the slough, and struck the current of the Sacramento.
The Sacramento proved to be a fine, noble stream, flowing 200 and 300
yards wide, with gentle current and plenty of "sea room" around and
under. The banks were heavily timbered clear to the water's edge,
flowers blossomed gaily, and through grassy openings in the timber on
the right were given glimpses of the distant foothills, over-topped by
the blue-misted snow-crests behind them. It certainly looked like a
wonderful country, not only for mining but for farming, also.
The banks appeared mainly deserted, save where squatters, as they were
called, had taken land, cleared it, and had piled up wood to sell.
There was one spot which Mr. Grigsby said was an Indian village, and he
pointed out reed huts. But the most interesting feature was the boats,
most of them going up, a few coming down.
There were two schooners, larger than the _Mary Ann_, but crowded as
full, which, just ahead, tacking back and forth, sometimes were near,
sometimes far. There were also smaller boats, skiffs and scows, full
to the gunwales, their passengers rowing and paddling hard, as if in a
race. In one funny hand-made skiff the men were using boards and even
pans. They scarcely paused to cheer the _Mary Ann_ as she triumphantly
glided past, and her passengers yelled:
"Bye-bye!" "See you later!" "We're bound for the mines. Where are
you going?" "Want a tow?" And so forth, and so forth. Another boat
was a suspiciously built yawl, which looked much like the boat in which
Charley had slept, over the stern of the _California_. It held nine
men, three of them in sailor costumes; and on the bows a name evidently
had been scratched out. Rowing desperately, the men in it barely
glanced up as the _Mary Ann_ passed. They appeared to be anxious to
sheer off.
"Here's a runaway, I'll bet my hat," exclaimed the captain of the _Mary
Ann_, who happened to be standing near the Adams party. "It's a ship's
boat, and those men row like sailors--let alone their clothes. They've
taken French leave, for the mines. It's impossible to hold a crew, in
San Francisco Bay. If they can't steal a boat they'll swim ashore and
make their way on foot."
Now down the river came a broad scow, made of rough planks, and steered
by sweeps. As it passed, the men in it (who wore miners' costumes)
waved their hands--and see; they held up gunny sacks and salt bags,
stuffed full and heavy.
"Just from the mines," they shouted. "Back from the land of gold.
You're too late. We got it all."
The sight of those fat, heavy sacks created intense excitement aboard
the _Mary Ann_. The passengers rushed to the near rail; eyes bulged
and voices volleyed in a chorus of questions--and several persons
almost jumped overboard.
"Where'd you get it?"
"How much?"
"There's more, isn't there?"
"Wait a minute!"
"Stop the ship, captain!"
"Hey! Show us a handful!"
Charley was as excited as anybody. Big sacks of gold! Think of that!
Look at them! But the captain laughed, winking at Mr. Grigsby.
"Sand, boys; sand," he drawled. "That's a trick of those up-river
fellows. They load with bags of sand for ballast, and show them to the
other crowd. Bah!"
At this Charley felt better, although he did not begrudge anybody a
sack of gold, if only there was enough left.
The _Mary Ann_ made rather slow progress. The river, always broad and
smooth, curved in mighty sweeping bends, so that sometimes the breeze
was dead ahead. Then the _Mary Ann_ must tack and tack, gaining only a
few yards in several hundred. At night she tied up, to a tree; and
several of her passengers caught some fish from the rail. Charley
tended a line, for a few minutes, and caught a cat-fish that weighed
twenty pounds; he couldn't pull it in until his neighbor helped.
The Sacramento evidently flowed through a wide valley, for mountains
were visible beyond the timber on either hand. Each evening the
schooner stopped for the night, tying or anchoring. Not until noon of
the fifth day on the river was any sign of settlement along the banks
encountered, although boats continued frequent. But that noon a large
ranch was passed, where a settler by the name of Schwartz had been wise
enough to start in raising vegetables. He had made over $15,000
already, claimed people aboard the schooner--yet for all that nobody on
the _Mary Ann_ seemed ready to farm instead of mine.
Next, ahead on the right bank, above the Schwartz ranch, appeared a
collection of houses and tents. The _Mary Ann_ waxed excited again.
"There's Sacramento!"
"Get your things together, boys."
"Is that Sacramento, cap'n?"
"No, sir," answered the captain, shortly. "That's only Sutterville."
"Do we stop?"
"No, sir; we do not."
"Where's Sacramento?"
"Three miles above."
"This must be the town old Captain Sutter's started," remarked Mr.
Grigsby, surveying it narrowly. "Well, he's taken plenty of land to
spread out in." And that was so, for about twenty houses were
scattered along the high bank for half a mile. "Hope the old captain's
up at Sacramento. I'd like to see him."
"How large is Sacramento, stranger?" asked a neighbor at the rail.
"Large, you say?" answered another. "Make yore guess. Last April when
I came out with my pile it had four houses. Now I'm told it's boomin'
wuss'n San Francisco--and you know what that means."
"So you've been to the mines, have you?" invited Mr. Adams.
"Yes, sir; I have, sir. You bet I have, sir."
"How'd you make it?"
"To the tune of $20,000 in two weeks, sir. Then I was fool enough to
quit, and spend it all in San Francisco. But here I'm back again, for
$50,000."
Instantly everybody within sound of his voice deluged him with
questions, as to "How much could be dug in a day," and other foolish
remarks. Charley stared at him. This certainly was a wonderful land.
If a man could make and spend $20,000 and then expect $50,000 more, why
should anyone remain poor?
"Look at the ships!" cried voices, as the _Mary Ann_ rounded a curve.
Against the timber to the right, before, rose a score and more of
mast-heads. Above the timber floated a cloud of brown dust, as if
stirred by many feet. And beyond the masts, in the midst of the trees,
could be descried tents and houses--a great number, laid out in
streets, with a levee of earth and sod piled high with freight and
baggage, fronting the river. This was Sacramento, at last!
[Illustration: The voyage of the schooner "Mary Ann". On the way from
San Francisco to the Gold Fields, 1849]
The _Mary Ann_ glided in on a long tack. Down fluttered her main-sail,
presently down fluttered her fore-sail; and as she swung to, spilling
the breeze from her jibs, close to the bank at the end of the levee, a
sailor sprang into the water and swimming until he could wade carried a
hawser ashore. This he made fast to the great root of a tree, washed
bare by the waters. All up and down the banks other vessels were
moored likewise, to trees and trunks and roots, so that some of the
branches brushed the yards and spars. A number of cook's galleys had
been set up on shore, as cabins, and several ship's figure-heads were
established like sign-posts! It was a queer water-front--and what a
swarm of people it exhibited!
From the _Mary Ann_ Sacramento looked even busier than San Francisco.
It was better laid out, too, for the streets were regular and straight.
"Four houses and fifty people three months ago; 5,000 people now and
houses going up so fast you can't count 'em," said the red-faced
captain, as in obedience to his orders the mate dropped the schooner's
boats. "Wish I'd bought some lots here when they were offered to
me--three for a thousand apiece."
"What are they worth now?" asked Charley, breathless.
"Well, sonny, a lot twenty feet wide is selling for $2,300." And the
captain turned away.
The passengers were piling ashore; some would not wait for a boat; the
_Mary Ann_ had swung close to the bank, and they made running jumps
from the rail, to land sprawling in the shallows or to plump out of
sight and swim. When the Adams party finally stepped from the skiff to
the levee (which was called _embarcadero_, of course) they were fairly
deafened by a multitude of cries from citizens who insisted upon their
buying lots. But Mr. Grigsby sighted a stout, ruddy-faced man; and
exclaiming: "There's Captain Sutter!" made for him.
He and the captain shook hands heartily, and Mr. Grigsby brought his
friend over to the rest of the party.
"Captain Sutter, gentlemen," introduced the Frémonter (and Charley felt
quite like a man, to be included in "gentlemen"). "The first American
settler in California, and the friend of all the other Americans who
came after. You've heard of Sutter's Fort. He was the boss."
Captain Sutter was a short, stoutly built man, with crisp mustache and
goatee, and a military way. His complexion was florid, his eyes very
blue, and his forehead so high that probably he was bald. He looked to
be German (though really he was Swiss), and he spoke with a German
accent. His manner was very courtly, as he bowed and shook hands.
"Yes, of Sutter's Fort--but where is that now?" he said. "These gold
seekers, they run over it; they leave me nothing. They have no rights
of land to respect. Ach, what is the country coming to? All here was
mine, once. See, now! Somebody put up a city, on this _embarcadero_
where I landed my supplies for my fort. My saw-mill is a hotel--the
City Hotel--and for it and the land it is on somebody gets $30,000 per
year, they tell me. Nobody work for me any more; even my Indians go to
mining gold, and my wheat fields are stepped all over. My new city
which I start only three miles below, and call by my name--my gute name
which when I was useful was so popular--is neglected, and everybody
flock here. I once was rich; now soon I am bankrupt; all because my
men discovered this gold. This gold, I hate it. It will be the ruin
of this country."
"Well, captain, I'm sorry to hear this from you," said Mr. Grigsby.
"But I'm powerful glad to see you, anyway. You've been too generous.
You gave away your land, so as to help build up the country."
"Yes," answered the captain. "I did not want the gold, but I did not
think the people would go crazy and flock over everything and obey me
not at all. Well, what can I do for you, my friends?"
"We're going in to the mines, captain," informed Mr. Grigsby. "How's
the horse and mule market? We want a pack animal of some kind.
Colonel Frémont said you might be able to help us. I saw him in San
Francisco."
"The grand Colonel!" exclaimed Captain Sutter. "For my real American
friends I would do anything yet." He spread his hands. "But horses
and mules? One time I remember I had many for you--that time you came
out of the mountains so nearly famished to my fort. Now times are
different. Horse and mule sell for $100, where they used to be ten.
Maybe when the emigrants begin to come in, over the mountains, with
their beasts, things will be different. I hear 30,000 are on the way,
for the American River and the Sacramento. But I guess I know of one
mule. I will try. Come this way, gentlemen. Leave your baggage. It
will be safe--safer than the land it is on."
Captain Sutter led the way from the levee, crowded with people and
baggage and freight. What a beautiful city this Sacramento was growing
to be! The buildings were mainly of rough-sawn timber, with some of
clay, and of course many tents; but the streets were wide, and
straight, and everywhere great trees had been left standing, many of
them six feet through at the ground. Business of buying and selling
real estate and goods was at full blast. As he trotted along, the
captain proved talkative.
"You saw my own city of Sutter's Ville, below?" he asked. "That is a
much better site; not? It is high and dry, while this place--bah!
Gentlemen, in the spring I have moored my boats to the tops of trees on
that very _embarcadero_! But we shall see. I have hired Lieutenant
Sherman of the Army to survey between my town and this, and connect the
two; and maybe soon they will be one. Lieutenant Davidson, of the
Army--he is surveying my town now, for fine streets and big lots."
"Davidson? Lieutenant J. W. Davidson, I suppose," remarked Charley's
father; and Captain Sutter nodded. "He was with General Kearny in that
overland march with the First Dragoons, from Santa Fé to San Diego, in
the summer of Forty-six, when the Army was sent to capture California."
"Yes, sir," answered the captain. "But my friend Frémont and Kit
Carson and Mr. Grigsby, here, and the American settlers, they got in
ahead of the United States Army. Still, we needed the Army, like we
needed the Navy; and we need them still. It is another of General
Kearny's officers, Lieutenant John Warner, who surveyed this Sacramento
City. A brave man, a very brave man. Three lance wounds he got, in
the battle of San Pasqual, when the Californians would have prevented
the Army from entering to San Diego. He is now already far up in the
Sierra Nevada, at the head of the Feather River, surveying for a
railroad route, I hear. Think, gentlemen! Soon a railroad, maybe!"
Captain Sutter had led the way to a rude hut of woven grass walls and
thatch roof, on the outskirts of the town. Here he halted, and called:
"Ho, Pedro! Amigo (friend)!"
An Indian came out. Yes, an Indian--but different from the Indians
whom Charley had seen in Missouri. He was squatty, dark and wrinkled,
his hair cut short, and cotton shirt and trousers as his clothes. The
captain spoke to him in Spanish. Pedro listened, and with a nod,
turning, made off at a trot. In a moment he came back, leading from a
shed among a clump of trees a small donkey.
"A burro, 'pon my word!" exclaimed Mr. Adams. "I haven't seen a donkey
like that out of Mexico!"
"It is the best Pedro has," explained the captain. "These gold seekers
so crazy they have robbed him, because they think he is nothing but an
Indian. There will be troubles with my Indians, if the whites do not
treat them better. Anyway, gentlemen, this animal is not so small as
his size. He will carry all you put aboard him, and Pedro will sell
him for twenty-five dollar, since you are friends of mine. Otherwise,
he would not sell him at all."
"Good," said Mr. Adams. "Bueno," he added, so that Pedro might
understand. "We'll take him, and glad of it."
So they bought the burro (a funny little creature with shaggy head,
enormously long ears, and small hoofs) and led him away, Charley
proudly holding the rope.
"You are lucky, my friends," spoke Captain Sutter; "one other animal
there was, which I found for those friends of yours who came through
the day before yesterday."
"What!" exclaimed Mr. Adams, sharply. "Who were they?"
"A rather small, dark man with a very long nose, sir, and two
companions. They came by trail, from San Francisco, they said, and
wanted a pack animal. They told me of my friend Grigsby, who had
recommended them to me if they saw me, and of course I was happy to
oblige them."
"Great thunder!" muttered Mr. Grigsby, as he and Mr. Adams stared at
one another. But he quickly added, as if not to hurt the honest
captain's feelings: "Very good, captain. When did they leave? Going
up the American?"
"They left immediately, and I think they spoke of the American,"
answered the captain. "Yes," he continued, placidly, "it was a large
bay mule, with one ear under-bitten--a notch taken out of it. I was of
course happy to oblige them; but this burro I saved for you."
No, there was no use in telling the captain of his mistake, and making
him feel bad; and Mr. Adams shook his head warningly at Charley. But
what nerve, on the part of the long-nosed man! However, Mr. Adams only
said:
"We'd better set right out, then, Grigsby."
"Can I do anything more for you, gentlemen?" inquired Captain Sutter.
"No, thank you, captain. We're fixed nicely. Now we'll pack up and
leave at once. Time is precious, you know, to us gold seekers. Where
is Jim Marshall? Up at the saw-mill?"
"Yes, at Coloma, but the saw-mill is not running. We have nobody to
run it. Ah," mused the captain, "everyone is in a great hurry, like
you. They see nothing but gold, much gold. It was not so in the old
days. Well," he added, extending his hand, "good-bye, gentlemen, and
good luck. Maybe we shall meet again."
They shook hands with him, thanked him once more for his kindness, and
he trotted off--evidently as "hurried" as other people.
XVIII
THE TRAIL OF THE ENEMY
"Evidently we have to do with a very cunning gang of rascals," remarked
Mr. Adams, as with the burro they hastened back for the levee and their
baggage. "How did they know enough to trade on your name, Grigsby?"
Mr. Grigsby smiled grimly.
"They probably saw I was a Frémont man--may have heard us talking; and
they took the chance. Naturally enough they'd guess that I knew the
captain. All we early Americans in California knew _him_, and he stood
ready to help us out. Well, sir, they left a clue, at any rate. We'll
follow as fast as we can."
"Do you think we'll catch them?" asked Charley, eagerly.
"We'll do our best, whether we catch 'em or not," answered the
Frémonter. "It's a big country, up yonder in the mountains, as they'll
find out. Now, I'm thinking that we can't do better than to take the
trail up the south branch of the American, to the saw-mill, and see Jim
Marshall. He's been living right in the middle of things and may know
something we'll want to hear."
"You mean the Marshall who discovered this California gold, for
Americans?" queried Charley's father. "Well, I'd certainly like to see
him, and have Charley see him; and the place, too."
"All right. Maybe we can kill two birds with one stone," answered the
Frémonter. "And from the mill we can work north, to the other branch
of the American."
The baggage was undisturbed, on the levee. Charley held the burro, and
his father and Mr. Grigsby proceeded to pack her. Mr. Grigsby had
stopped at a store, on their way, and bought two crowbars, a new rope
and a pack-saddle, and some dried-beef. The crowbars cost $1.50 each,
the rope cost $5, and the pack-saddle, of oak and rawhide and shaped
like two letter X's fastened together by the middle, cost $8. The meat
was the cheapest. It came in long strips, and sold by the yard--six
yards for fifty cents!
The Frémonter was of course an expert at packing a horse or mule, and
Mr. Adams knew considerable about it, from his army experience.
Charley wondered at the neatness with which his comrades hoisted aboard
all the variously shaped articles, and tied them fast so that they
balanced.
"They call this the diamond hitch," grunted Mr. Grigsby, as he hauled
tight, while the little burro stood with ears meekly drooped. "Rope
makes the shape of a diamond--see? But it's only the regular trappers'
pack throw. I've used it a thousand times and more. Well, we're all
ready; hurrah for the gold mines. Charley, you can lead the critter.
I'll go ahead, to show the road."
"Hurrah for the gold mines!" echoed Charley; and away they trudged.
As they left the hurly-burly of the _embarcadero_, and threaded their
way through the bustling town, which was like another San Francisco,
nobody appeared to notice their march. It probably was an old story,
and besides, the people were too busy running about, bargaining in real
estate, making money quick.