California illustrated

We soon fell in with the north-east trade winds, which carried us along rapidly, causing us to make so much lee-way however, that on arriving at 38° north latitude, (the latitude of San Francisco), we were at 140° west longitude. We then tacked ship and stood in for the coast of California. We had baffling winds and calms for several days, but falling in with the northwest trades, we were carried rapidly along, the wind increasing until it blew a gale. This lasted for two days. The ship laid over so that her main studding-sail boom touched the water, and on the 1st July the gale carried away our gib. On the 3d, we discovered weeds and logs floating in the water, indicating our proximity to land. We take an observation, and ascertain that we are sixty miles from San Francisco. This we ought to make by 8 o’clock the next morning. The passengers are all engaged in packing up. The retorts, crucibles, gold tests, pick-axes, shovels, and tin-pans, are put into a separate bag, and laid on the top; each determined to be the first off for the mines. Each one having conceived a different mode of keeping his gold, one would exhibit an ingenious box with a secret lock, another, a false bottom to his trunk, a fourth a huge belt, while a fifth was at work on the fifteenth buckskin bag, each of 20 lbs. capacity. All were looking to the glorious future with a faith that would have removed mountains, particularly if they were suspected of having gold concealed underneath. On the morning of the 4th, the sun rose in a cloud of mist. We were all expectation and excitement. Some were at mast-head, others in the shrouds, and all on the “qui vive” for land. The fog was so dense we could not take an observation, but still stood in toward land. At 12 o’clock we felt a slight breeze, and the mist rose like a curtain, displaying to our astonished vision the coast of California. A simultaneous shout burst forth, and our very ship seemed to bound with enthusiasm. We find by taking an observation that we are twenty miles north of the entrance to the bay. We had a fair wind, and passed along very near the coast, which is bold and rocky, rising and terminating in the coast range of mountains, and in the back ground the famed “Sierra Nevada,” (mountains of snow).

At 3 o’clock, P.M., we arrived off a bold rocky promontory, which is the north point to the entrance of the outer bay of San Francisco, called “De los Reys,” or King’s Point. We soon changed our course, standing in for the entrance to the inner bay, some twenty miles distant. The air was filled with geese, brant, loons, ducks, &c. We here saw the hair-seal, somewhat resembling a tiger. They would come to the surface, display themselves, and disappear. We saw, also, a very large whale coming directly toward the ship, alternately diving and reappearing, and the third time he came to the surface, he was quite near us. He threw up a column of water, and diving headlong toward the bottom, threw his huge tail into the air. Not wishing to come to anchor before morning, we shortened sail, and all “turned in.”

In the morning we were a short distance from the “Golden Gate,” the entrance to the inner bay, making for it with a fair breeze. A large ship was abreast of us, making for the same point. A schooner spoke us, and wished to pilot us in, but our captain not relishing California price ($200), declined. The strait through which we were about to pass, is an opening through the coast-range of mountains, about a mile in width, and has the appearance of having been cut through by the action of the inland waters. The capes at either side are bold, and that on the right is fortified. We could not have made a more auspicious entrance. It was a delightful morning, with a fresh breeze, and the tide rushing in at eight knots. When we had made the entrance, we could see through into the inner bay, directly in the centre of which is an island of considerable elevation, which serves as a beacon to inward-bound vessels. The passage in was entirely without interruption, and the scene most enchanting. It seemed to us that the gates had been thrown open, and we ushered in to view some fairy scene. At our left was the little bay of “Saucelito” (Little Willow), where several vessels were lying cosily under the bank, taking in water. Here is a small island, inhabited only by sea-fowl—there a strait which is the mouth of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, beyond which the shore of the bay is bold with mountains in the background. We still head toward the island in the centre. At our right, the shore is bold, and still further on, a point of considerable elevation juts out into the bay. The tide is still bearing us along with headlong speed, and we are obliged to take in all sail with the exception of the flying-jib. As we neared the point we changed our course, making as near it as practicable, and, as we round it, San Francisco is spread out before us, where rides a fleet of two hundred sail. We feel that we have attained the acme of our ambition, that we have really entered the “Golden Gates.” We pass along, and passing several vessels, come to the United States man-of-war, “Gen. Warren.” Our patriotism, at this particular time, was not of a nature to be smothered into silence. We took off our hats, opened our mouths, and it was soon evident that our lungs had lost none of their vigor by exposure to the sea air. We passed most of the shipping, and finding a convenient place our captain cried out “haul down the flying jib,” “let go the anchor,” and our ship rounded to, as if willing to rest after a run of sixty-five days.

We were immediately boarded by boatmen, and I was soon in a row-boat on my way to the shore. On landing, my first move was for the post-office. I had gone but a few paces in this city of strangers, before some one called my name. I turned around; he did not recognize my six months’ beard, and apologized. I recognized him as a New York friend, and assured him there was no offence, that I was the identical individual he was looking for. I accompanied him to his store, where he exhibited several specimens of gold, weighing twenty-seven ounces, twenty-five ounces, and down to a single ounce. These were no unwelcome sight to me, and served to stimulate the fever. My greatest anxiety, however, was to hear from home, and with the least possible delay, I hurried to the post office. I had heard from home but once in six months, and my anxiety and pleasure can well be imagined, when, in answer to my inquiry, I was handed a half-dozen letters. I went to a restaurant, read my letters, ate a $3.50 beefsteak, and felt as rich as men are generally supposed to feel after a six months’ residence. I could neither get room nor lodgings in town. Many of the business men, and all the transient people, lived in tents. My tent was still on board the ship, and my friend above spoken of, offered me the hospitalities of his own for the night.

In the morning I took my writing-desk, and climbed to an eminence in the vicinity of the city, to write to my friends at home. Seating myself under a cluster of small trees which protected me from the sun, I commenced, and, with the exception of an interval for dinner, spent the day in writing. The scene around me was animated. Everything appeared to be propelled by the most indomitable perseverance. The frame of a house would be taken from the ship in the morning, and at night it was fully tenanted. The clatter of the innumerable hammers, each answered by a thousand echoes, seemed the music by which the city was being marshalled into existence. Ships were constantly arriving; coming to anchor a mile out, they would immediately disgorge their cargoes, which, taken by lighters, were conveyed to the shore, and thrown into heaps, their owners running about to contract for their immediate transportation into the interior. Others were seen rowing off to vessels, which, after receiving their complement of passengers, would weigh anchor and stand for the strait, which is the joint mouth of the Sacramento and San Joaquin Rivers.

Towards evening the scene became less animated, and the noise more subdued. I could but look with admiration upon the heightened beauty of the scene, as Nature was about to repose. A smile of approbation seemed to play upon her countenance as she was taking the last view of this, the perfection of her works.

The sun is almost down, tinging only some of the highest peaks of the surrounding mountains. The city, extending from the bay up the left base and side of the mountain, is about to cease her notes of enterprise, and light her lamps. At the base, directly under my feet, is an encampment of one hundred tents, occupied by Americans and Chilians. Two hundred ships are lying at anchor, displaying their various ensigns, comprising almost all the commercial nations of the world; and looming up conspicuously in the offing, is the man-of-war, “Gen. Warren,” her majestic appearance proclaiming the superiority of American naval architecture. But the most striking feature in the scene is this beautiful bay; surrounded by mountains which protect it from the winds, it sleeps in perfect calm, the flood and ebb tide carrying vessels in and out, at from seven to eight knots an hour. At this moment, although the wind is blowing in the mountains, the bay is as placid as a mirror. In the centre of the bay is a beautiful island, as if nature had set in pearl one of her choicest emeralds. But “night has let her curtain down, and pinned it with a star.” In the evening I strolled about with my friends, and was surprised to see that all of the best houses on the main streets were gambling houses. The rooms were brilliantly lighted, and each contained several monte tables, loaded with gold and silver coin, together with many rich specimens from the mines. To allure their victims, they were usually furnished with music, a bar, and an interesting señorita to deal the cards. Gamblers understand that the only sure way of making a man courageous is to get him drunk, consequently, at about every second dealing of the cards, all the betters are “treated.” A man bets on a card and loses. His last drink is beginning to effervesce, and, of course, he is too shrewd to let the gambler have his money. He doubles the bet, putting the money on the same card, thinking that a card must, at least, win every other time. I have noticed that gamblers are very considerate, always managing to throw out just the card the victim wishes to bet upon. Again he loses, and again is “treated.” His courage is up: the third time his card must certainly win. The “deal” takes place, and, strange to say, his card is turned up, and seems to say, in its very face that it is to win. In order to win back his former losses, he stakes, this time, half his purse. The other betters and bystanders now begin to manifest an interest in the affair. The gambler now begins to draw the cards, and, lo! the victim’s card don’t win. He is excited; he sees that others are looking at him, and displays the greatest amount of courage by taking another drink, and calling for another deal. Again his card is turned up. It cannot possibly lose four times in succession. He throws on his entire purse. It is lost. He goes out penniless. Another shrewd man was standing by, betting small sums on the opposite card, and consequently had won four times in succession. He had discovered the remarkable fact, that the card opposite the above described unlucky one, would invariably win. He determined to make a fortune by his discovery. The deal takes place, the unlucky card comes out, and he puts a large sum on the other one. The cards are drawn, and, strange as it may seem, the unlucky card wins. This appeared doubly strange to the shrewd man. He took another drink, and felt positive it could not happen so again. Another deal, and the indefatigable unlucky card is again in the field. Again the shrewd man bets, and again the unlucky card wins. The shrewd man displays as much courage as his predecessor, and is soon prepared to leave in the same financial condition.

The bystanders grow a little suspicious. The cards are again dealt, small bets are made and won by the bystanders. The gambler “treats,” bystanders again bet, win, are “treated,” and grow courageous. A better state of feeling exists; the gambler grows more complacent, and treats oftener. All are anxious to bet, the gambler is considered one of the best of fellows—one of that kind of men who would a little prefer losing money to winning it. Again bets are made and won, and all appear anxious to share the gambler’s money, as it is, doubtless, about to be distributed among the fortunate bystanders. All drink and bet liberally; but this time they lose. This is, however, the first loss, and they bet again, but it so happens that they lose this time also. They drink and bet again, and again lose. They now find that they have only half as much money as they commenced with. They now resolve to recover what they have lost, and quit. But, alas! when the victim arrives at this point in the drama, he is lost. He loses every bet, until, seized by a feeling of reckless desperation, he risks all, and is immolated upon the altar of avarice.

Hundreds who have never risked, and who think it impossible they ever could risk, a dollar in a game of chance, are daily drawn into the vortex. They come to town with well-filled purses, the proceeds, perhaps, of six months’ hard labor, to buy the necessary provisions and clothing, get their letters, &c. They meet old friends, drink, go to the gambling house, drink again, and finally bet a small amount, and perhaps win. They bet again, and again win. A feeling of avarice is now excited, and they risk a large sum. But after repeated bets, with varied success, they discover that they are losers. They now make the fatal resolve that they will win back what they have lost and quit; the next moment they are ruined.

Chapter Ten.

THE “HOUNDS”—VILLAINY—INDIGNATION MEETING—VIGILANCE COMMITTEE.

On the first Sunday after my arrival, several of the leaders of the gang returned to town, after a few days’ absence. They crossed over from the opposite side of the bay, having with them a fife and drum, the music of which was accompanied by yells, groans and hisses, such as one would only expect to hear from demons. After landing they marched into the main plaza, and executing a few peculiar evolutions, dispensed with their music, at least the instrumental part of it, and commenced their foray. I was seated in a restaurant as the captain and five of his followers entered. He drew up to a table upon which were several glasses, decanters, &c., together with sundry plates of refreshments. He raised his foot, kicked over the table, smashing the crockery into atoms, then taking his cigar from his mouth said, with the utmost nonchalance, “waiter, bring me a gin-cocktail, G—d d—n you.” After having satisfied their thirst and hunger, they sallied forth without taking the trouble to learn the precise amount of damage done.

During the night, after committing several robberies, they entered a Chilian tent, and, after committing the most brutal outrages upon the mother and daughter, murdered the former, and in their struggle with the latter, she, after receiving several severe wounds, caught a bowie-knife from the hand of one of them and, after dealing him a deadly blow, made her escape. She immediately gave the alarm, and although robberies had been committed with impunity, this outrage upon defenceless females, awakened an impulse that was irresistible. The excitement was most intense; citizens flocked together, armed with a determination to meet out summary punishment to the perpetrators of this inhuman outrage.

Several arrests were made, and, although many were in favor of summary vengeance, better counsel prevailed, and they were put into the hands of the authorities and locked up. They refused to give any information as to the stolen property, but upon searching the tent of an accomplice, various articles were found, and snugly stowed away in a mattress was a large amount in gold dust, the wages of their infamy. A few hours after the above arrests, a demonstration was made by accomplices, in order to force open the jail, and release their comrades. This caused the strongest feelings of indignation, and the citizens assembled en masse in the plaza, all armed to the teeth, determined to avenge this additional aggravation to the atrocious crimes already perpetrated. They immediately organized themselves into a police, and determined to act with decision upon any proposition that might be sanctioned by the meeting. Had a resolution passed to hang the prisoners it would have been carried into immediate effect. Notwithstanding the excitement of the moment, many of the “hounds” had the effrontery to show themselves, and during a speech by one of the citizens, made some menacing jestures, upon which the speaker drew a revolver from his bosom, and with a determined emphasis requested all those who sympathized with the prisoners to separate from the crowd. Had they complied, the determination manifested in every countenance gave fearful token of the doom that awaited them. It was resolved, in consideration of the insecurity of the jail, to transfer the prisoners to the man-of-war, “General Warren.” This was carried into immediate effect, the citizens forming a double file from the jail to the shore.

This demonstration secured but five of the numerous horde that infested the city, and it was not to be expected that the arrests of these would prove a salutary check, nor did it. The desperados stood in greater fear of this self-constituted police than of the regular authorities. This organization was undoubtedly the germ from which the “Vigilance Committee” eventually grew. It is well known that, upon the breaking out of the gold excitement, the cities of the world sent forth their vilest scum, consisting of gamblers, pickpockets, murderers, and thieves, and California was the receptacle. They immediately fraternized, and were at once the most adroit, wily and experienced embodiment of villainy with which the prospects of a city were ever blighted. They were not men broken down in their profession at home, but the very aristocracy of crime. Too well-skilled to be detected, they had escaped the meshes of the law in their own country, and resorted to California for its superior business prospects. As if to have the organization complete, the convict islands of Great Britain vomited forth a herd that seemed almost festering with crime. This sealed the doom of San Francisco. She was infested by an organization, the very incarnation of infamy. They would fire the city for plunder, and commit murder to screen themselves from detection.

The city had grown to the stature of a giant; all were reaping the reward of their enterprise, when on the 5th December following, the torch of the incendiary was applied, and within a few short hours San Francisco was in ashes. Citizens who had assumed their pillows in wealth awoke in penury. Many, after a year of toil and anxiety, were preparing to return to their families in affluence, but in one brief moment their dreams of happiness were blighted, and their riches a heap of smouldering ruins. The city was immediately rebuilt, but citizens had barely entered their new habitations, when it was again devastated by fire. Again it rose, Phenix-like, from its own ashes, and again business was resumed, but for the third time it was in ruins.

The citizens were appalled. That it was the work of incendiaries no one doubted, yet to detect them seemed impossible, so skillfully were their plans laid, and so adroitly executed. Added to this, the sequel proved that some of their number had got into “high places,” were conniving at their acts, and sharing their ill-gotten booty. This, in part, accounts for the tardy proceedings against those who were arrested, and the numerous reprieves of those who were clearly proved guilty. Property to the value of some twenty millions of dollars had already been destroyed, hundreds of citizens had been reduced from affluence to bankruptcy, others were in momentary fear of sharing the same fate. They had lost confidence in the city authorities, and there seemed no alternative but to take the matter into their own hands. They consequently organized themselves into what was termed a “Vigilance Committee,” with the determination of bringing every suspicious person to a strict account. Many of the most influential and wealthy citizens were the first to enrol themselves, and they called upon all to join them in their effort at self-protection. Their head-quarters was at the engine-house of a fire company, the tolling of the bell being the signal for all to assemble. This well-known signal was always heard when an arrest was made, and became the death-knell to many a wretch, who for his villainies was hastily summoned into another world. The meetings of the Committee were strictly private, none but members being admitted. The proceedings were summary, and if the prisoner was proved guilty his sentence was carried into immediate effect. None were executed, however, without the unanimous consent of members present, this being one of the provisions of their constitution. Those who were executed were not only proved guilty, but confessed their guilt before their execution. Most of those who fell under the ban of the Committee were “Sidney convicts,” and subsequently they were all ordered to leave the country within a specified time, upon the pain of death. The Mayor issued a proclamation against the proceedings of the Committee, and the coroner’s juries summoned over the bodies of those who were executed, found against them; yet it is a question of doubt, whether any one was secretly opposed to their proceedings.

Persons living in well-regulated communities, and looking at the matter in the distance, may feel disposed to censure the Committee and its proceedings as hasty and precipitate; but, when we take into consideration that not only property to an immense amount, but life itself, was in jeopardy—the want of facilities for securing and retaining criminals during the tardy process of law, the numerous rescues by accomplices, and the frequent pardons by the authorities when the accused were notoriously guilty,—I say, when we take these things into consideration, together with the fact that not an individual was executed who was not clearly proved guilty, and even confessed his guilt; we can look upon the acts of the Committee not only as just—but imperative. In the confessions of some of those who were executed they implicated men in authority, in such a manner that not a doubt was left upon the public mind. The result of these summary measures is apparent to all. Crime, since the organization of the Committee, has decreased one half, and they have now ceased to make arrests, leaving all to the jurisdiction of the proper authorities. They, however, maintain their organization, and would, no doubt, act in case of emergency.

Chapter Eleventh.

On the 19th July I went on board the brig “North Bend,” with three men who had been hired in New York and sent out by a company in which I had an interest, and sailed for the Sacramento river. We crossed the bay, and in an hour were in the strait, running up with a stiff breeze, passing numerous small islands inhabited by water fowl and covered with “guano.” There were innumerable ducks, brant, loons, and geese flying through the air; the scenery delightful, the first fifty miles being a succession of small bays, all studded with islands. At the right the bank rises gradually to the height of from twenty to fifty feet, covered with wild oats, with an occasional “live oak” tree, and relieved by frequent ravines through which small streams find their way to the strait. This plain, during the rainy season, furnishes pasture for heads of wild cattle—elk, deer, and antelope, but at this season they had retired to the marshes and lower lands; and the whole of the right bank, as far back as the eye could reach, appeared one immense field of ripened grain. The left bank, on the immediate margin, presents the same appearance, but relieved in the background by the coast range of mountains with which we were running parallel. This range appears a continuous ledge of granite, destitute of vegetation, and at one point towers up into a peak of considerable height, called Monte Diablo, (Devil’s Mount).

At 12 M., we arrived at Benicia, now a port of entry and United States naval station. The man of man-of-war, “Southampton,” was anchored in the stream—guarding the passage—to prevent smuggling. As soon as we came in sight they lowered their boat, and pulled out toward the middle of the stream, to intercept us, and examine our papers—at the same time hoisting a signal for us to come to. Our captain was an “old salt,” and, in his estimation, the greatest blessing conferred upon man is a fair wind. He had every inch of canvas set, and manifested a determination not to shorten sail; we were running before a ten-knot breeze, and flew by them like a shadow. They hailed us, but not being obeyed they fired a gun from the ship, when our captain ordered the helm put down, and in an instant our sails were fluttering in the breeze; we had distanced the jolly-boat—they being obliged to row half a mile against the current to reach us. The officer boarded us in not the most amiable mood; it was quite apparent that we were enjoying a joke he thought somewhat expensive to himself. He informed us that a foreign vessel had passed them a few days previous; but they were now on their guard and would have given us the next shot in our rigging. He pronounced our papers satisfactory, and pulled off for the ship, being most heartily cheered by us.

We were soon under way dashing along at lightning speed; soon arriving at the confluence of the Sacramento and San Joaquin rivers, fifty miles above San Francisco, the latter river coming in from the east, the former from the north. The strait up which we had sailed, running in the same direction, is called, by many, the Sacramento river. At the junction of the two rivers there is a marsh, of some extent, in the midst of which is located the “New York of the Pacific,” of newspaper notoriety. I am informed that it now contains one house. There were not so many when we passed up. It is said there has never been a death in the city. We soon entered “Sui Sun” bay, which is an extensive, but very shallow body of water, requiring careful pilotage to take vessels through in safety. We again enter the Sacramento, which now presents a different appearance—the immediate margin being walled up by heavy timber, beyond which the marsh extends as far as the eye can reach. The depth of water on these marshes frequently covers the grass, presenting the appearance of a succession of lakes—all swarming with water fowls. Soon after reëntering the river our pilot brought us to a dead stand by running us on a sand bar. It was ebb tide, and there was no alternative but to await the flood. We loaded our rifles, lowered a boat, and pulled for the shore, preparatory to a hunt.

On landing, we were greeted by the most ravenous swarm of mosquitos it was ever my fortune to fall in with. They seemed to constitute the very atmosphere, and for size and spirit, I think they are without rivals, even in the “Montezuma swamp.” We did not at first retreat, but soon came to the conclusion that game must be poor, where there are so many bills presented. We carried a few of them on board, and they were so well pleased, they remained till morning. At 10, A.M., the tide flooded us off, and we were again under way. We soon left the river, and entered what is called the “slough,” which is a part of the river running out twenty miles above, and by passing through it, half the distance is saved. On both sides the “slough,” it is densely timbered; the branches hanging over the stream, and many of the trees inclining over, it required the greatest care to avoid their coming in contact with our spars. We had a fine breeze, and each of the passengers took his turn at the wheel. None of them attracted the attention of the captain, until it became my turn. Whether it was that I understood navigation better than my fellow-passengers, I am not prepared to say, but, certain it is, that I had stood at the wheel but a moment, when, without consulting the compass, I found myself at a dead stand in a tree-top. I did not claim much credit for it, and did not receive any.

After cutting away branches, grapevines, etc., we were again under way, with the captain at the wheel. He proved as skillful as myself, and made fast to the first tree-top. We soon reëntered the main channel, and were passing through a more

pleasant country, being a succession of forest and plain. At 4, P.M., in passing the mouth of a small stream, we again found ourselves aground, with a prospect of waiting twelve hours for the next tide. A boat was lowered, and some of the passengers went off to hunt. There were fish here in abundance. We offered them refreshments, but they seemed to “loathe the sight.” The passengers who had gone on shore, had disappeared in the forest, but soon two of the number were seen hurrying toward the shore. They pushed off the small boat, and were soon coming over the side of the brig. They appeared much agitated, and, after consulting a friend in whispers, the three started for the shore.

After an hour’s absence, they returned with their handkerchiefs filled with something, which was evidently not for the public eye. It was immediately put under lock and key. From the self-satisfied air and knowing winks of the three fortunate individuals, it was apparent that their fortune was full of hope. After mature reflection, they, no doubt, came to the conclusion, that as there was enough for all, as it was in their power, with a word, to place wealth within the grasp of all, it was their duty to make all happy, without delay, and, with great magnanimity, informed us that they had ascended the stream some distance, and, as they approached the ripple, to their astonishment, they found the water gurgling through pebbles of gold. They had each secured a competence, assuring us that we could go and do likewise. Some evil-disposed person stood by, who informed us that he noticed the same thing, and did not think it was gold. The three above-mentioned individuals, to reassure us, unlocked their trunks, but, lo! their fortunes, like fancy-stocks at the present day, had a downward tendency. It proved to be mica. It had somewhat the appearance of gold, but on separating it from the sand, it was found to be very light, having the appearance of small pieces of gilt paper. It was a most blighting illustration of the adage, that “all is not gold that glitters,” particularly to the three above-mentioned individuals. The bed of the river at this place had the appearance of being constituted of golden sands. The same has been noticed in almost all the streams in California, and has, undoubtedly, given rise to many of the golden reports. At 10, A.M., (Sunday,) we were again under way, the day excessively hot, and at 12, M., arrived at “Sutterville;” and, when opposite the town, found ourselves out of the channel, and aground. We all went on shore, and had the pleasure of making the acquaintance of one of the proprietors, with whom we walked a mile back from the town, to view “Capitol Hill,” the anticipated site of the State House. Although we did not break ground for the cornerstone, we were among the first to know the precise spot. The town is situated four miles below Sacramento City, and three from the fort. It contained three houses, visible to the natural eye, but, to the eye of the worthy proprietor’s imagination, it numbered many thousands. This had caused a very perceptible rise in the value of city lots.

It afterwards became a town of some twenty houses. The owners offered to a company owning the bark “Josephine,” thirty lots provided they would land their effects and make improvements. The proposition was accepted, and the improvements commenced. (See Plate.) A cannon is seen in the foreground which was taken from the Josephine, and used to salute vessels in passing up and down the river, as occasion might require. At the left, are two Oregonians riding at full speed, and in the centre is seen the Indian chief, Olympia, his squaw, and several natives of lesser note. The Josephine is seen at the river bank. She was subsequently sold and sailed for Oregon.

I here visited a family that had been wandering about since 1845, without having entered a house. There were two men, a woman, and three children, from three months to five years of age. They started from one of the Eastern States, with a wagon, two yoke of oxen, and two cows, passed through Missouri, crossed the Rocky Mountains into Oregon, and finally drove down to California. The children were all natives of the forest except the eldest. They were encamped under a large oak-tree a short distance from the river. The bed was made up on the ground, the sheets of snowy whiteness, the kitchen furniture was well arranged against the root of the tree, the children were building a playhouse of sticks, while the mother was sitting in a “Boston rocker” reading the Bible, with a Methodist hymn-book in her lap. The infant lay croaking on a white flannel-blanket, looking like a blown up life-preserver. While I

was conversing with, the woman, one of the men went into the back room to change his linen, i. e., he stepped behind the tree. They were all enjoying good health and appeared happy. I am disposed to think their house will be a poor protection during the rainy season; but for a summer-house, one could not well conceive of one better ventilated.

The next morning the flood-tide swept us into the channel, and at ten, we made fast to the bank at Sacramento city. This is at the junction of the American river with the Sacramento, 150 miles from San Francisco. Here, all was confusion and dust, each generating the other. This is the point from which the first move is made, by land, for the mines, and every man was on the run; mule-teams were moving in every direction, some loading, others preparing to load, each surrounded by a halo of dust which rendered mules and driver invisible. We were just in time to find one tree unoccupied, consequently settled down and commenced “keeping house.” We designed to remain in town until the next morning. (See Plate.) This is my own tent. At this time, there were about one hundred houses and tents in town; but it seemed that every man landed with a house, and put it up the, same day. Our brig had no less than thirteen on board, finished even to the glazing. Goods of every description were piled up on the river-bank, awaiting the carman. The owners were, in many instances, obliged to erect temporary shelters and sell them on the ground.

I met several persons who had been in the mines and seen the “Elephant.” Among others, a fellow passenger on the “Niantic.” He had been in the country two weeks, and in the mines half an hour. He had just returned, and was traveling through town trying to sell his utensils, preparatory to returning to the States. He was completely decorated with his wares, and looked like a country kitchen in disorder. He had a pair of grained boots and a smoked ham in one hand, a piece of perforated sheet-iron, a coffee-pot and frying-pan in the other, a pair of long India Rubber boots, with pants attached, thrown over one shoulder, and a pair of blankets under the arm. Over the other shoulder, was a long-handled shovel, from which was suspended a camp-kettle, containing a pepper-box, a pair of mining shoes, a piece of smoked beef, a Spanish grammar, several sea-biscuit, a pick-axe without a handle, and one pound each of sugar, coffee and bar-soap. All the above were offered at cost “to close the concern.” Every thing here was on the highest key. The town was only two months old, and lots were commanding New York prices. I was advised to embark in trade; but my heart was in the high-land, and the next morning at nine o’clock, we were moving for the interior, a party of a dozen having hired a six mule-team.

Chapter Twelve.

The fort is situated in the midst of an extensive plain, three miles from Sacramento city, and the same distance from the ferry and ford of the American river, (Rio Del Americano). It is said the proprietor, in one season, harvested nearly two thousand acres of wheat. At some distance back of the fort we saw grazing one of those immense herds of cattle for which California has been celebrated, (see Plate,) estimated at from two to three thousand head. Before the gold was discovered hides and tallow were the only articles of export, and cattle were raised and slaughtered for these articles alone. They run in large herds, feeding on the marshes in summer, and on the plains during the rainy season, kept from the grain by ditches and embankments, with which the fields are surrounded. They receive no care from the proprietors, and consequently are shy, and taken only with the “lasso.” These are made of raw hide, cut and platted like a whip-lash about fifty feet in length, and the size of the finger. It has a small loop or pully in one end, through which the other is passed and drawn up to a coil about five feet in diameter. The other end is then fastened to the pommel of the saddle; the rider taking the coil in his right hand coils the balance to the same size, and mounts.

There are probably no better horsemen in the world, not excepting the Cossacks, than the whites, half-breeds, and some of the Indians of California. It has been said, that their only homes are upon the backs of their horses, and nothing could possibly exceed the spirit and reckless daring displayed on an occasion like this. Their dresses are extremely picturesque. A high crowned hat with a black glazed covering, trimmed with a gold-lace band and bell-buttons; a hunting shirt fastened at the waist by a blue or red sash, and a belt containing a brace of pistols, black velvet breeches, open at the side of the leg, the edges trimmed with bell-buttons, showing the white drawers underneath. Below the knee the leg is dressed in tanned skins, which are wound around and fastened with strings; a pair of boots with a pair of massive iron spurs, trimmed with heavy chains; the hind tree, as well as the pommel of the saddle, rises quite abruptly, enabling one to retain his seat either at a rear or plunge of his horse; the pommel terminating in an eagle’s head, which prevents the lasso from slipping from the neck. The trimming of the saddle covers the entire back of the horse, the stirrups are of wood, made very large, with a leather covering in front, protecting the foot and leg from mud, brush, &c.; the bridle has a heavy iron bit and generally but one rein.

Thus mounted, a party of fifteen or twenty will approach a herd of cattle, horses, or elk, as the case may be. As they approach the herd takes fright, one snorts and starts, which is a signal for all, and they dash away. The horsemen, each selecting his victim, now bear down upon them with the speed of lightning. The herd, now aware of their pursuit, redouble

their energies, straining every nerve, the earth fairly quaking beneath their hoofs. The horses, as they near, display as much enthusiasm as their riders, and seem to scorn the very earth. They are now upon them. The herd, frantic and dismayed, begin to scatter. The horse now sees his victim and bounds with the most reckless impetuosity. The horseman, now rising in his saddle, throws his weight into the left stirrup, and with his right hand swings the lasso until the coil is sufficiently open, when it flies with the velocity and precision of an arrow, taking effect around the horns or neck of the victim. The horse, understanding the business, now slackens his speed, and prepares for the first shock, by taking a bracing position. The victim straitens the lasso, bounds into the air, and falls to the ground. The horseman dismounts, keeping his left foot in the stirrup, to help counteract the frantic throes of the victim which is now lacerated by balls from his pistols. Sometimes in its phrenzy of madness the victim rushes upon his pursuers, causing a precipitate retreat, and not unfrequently both horse and rider fall victims to their own temerity.

As our team had not yet arrived, we walked on one mile to Grime’s fort, a similar structure, and I believe the owner is a claimant of Sutter’s claim. We walked on to the river, prepared ourselves and waded through. On the opposite side, as we ascended the bank, we found ourselves on the margin of a plain, stretching away as far as the eye could reach, with nothing but an occasional oak to relieve the monotony. On the bank, a short distance above, is a rancho, to which belongs the ferry, used only during high water. This rancho belongs to the Sutter estate. There are several thousand head of cattle and horses belonging to it, and about two hundred head of Indians. The soil has the appearance of being extremely fertile, but at this time vegetation was parched with drought. Sutter claims most of the country drained by the Sacramento and its branches, which is all, of any agricultural value, in the north part of the State.

Our team soon came up, and our driver informed us that it was ten miles to the next water, consequently we were obliged to encamp on the bank of the river, notwithstanding it was only 3 o’clock, P.M. We had averaged one mile per hour. I loaded my rifle and went down the river to hunt; I had promised myself a supper of wild duck, but they proved to be, on that particular day, all crows, and I compensated myself in part by picking a quantity of grapes. These were put into our camp-kettle and served up for supper. We thought them delicious, but the next morning, to our regret, we learned that we had forgotten to sweeten them. Late in the afternoon, a party of Indians started, fully equipped, to lasso horses, that were herding on the bottom lands of the Sacramento, six miles distant. They rode at the top of their speed, the horse and rider seeming moved by the same impulse. At night we spread our blankets in the open air. Some one of the party had been throwing out insinuations reflecting upon the character of the grizzly bear, that were said to abound in our immediate vicinity; not only that they were in the habit of “running around nights,” but that they had a tendency to cannibalism. One of the party took a particular fancy to my rifle; whether it was the beauty of the piece, his predilection for the owner, or the fiery appearance of the cap, that stole his affections, I am not prepared to say. He folded it in his blanket and seemed to sleep the better for it. Soon after dark the California serenade commenced. The performers being two packs of wolves, the prairie (coyotas) and large gray wolf, each carrying a part, and in the latter were incorporated some of the best alto voices I ever heard. We were aroused early in the morning by a member of the above choir, who passed over the foot of our bed.

After breakfast we filled our flasks with water from the river and started. Our team travelled in a cloud of dust which hid them from our view. We moved on in advance. The day was excessively hot, and we were obliged to stop often for our team, in order to refill our flasks. After traveling five miles we overtook an ox-team loaded, and several mules packed, on the way to the mines. (See Plate). There were also several teams in the distance, moving in the same direction. We soon saw three men mounted on mules, coming toward us, who appeared to be returning from the mines. They were in high spirits, galloping along a little off the main track. One of them, in order, probably, to show a proper respect, pulled out his revolver and fired. His mule, taking the cue from his master, wishing to