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California Coast Trails · California Coast Trails

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  California Coast Trails dedication preface and Chapter one dedication to my brothers, whose lot
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  it has been to remain in the old homeland. This volume is affectionately inscribed
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  preface, the little thread of land, so puny and yet so obstinate,
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  that it has almost the look of an intentional provocation, which has kept the
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  two great oceans of the world asunder, is on the point of being severed,
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  and the Twin Americas clipped apart. With that event, they will open
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  for California an era of development as striking as that which followed upon the Great
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  Awakening in the middle of the last century. With the increase of commerce and
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  population, there will come important physical changes and the oblige iteration of much of
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  what is distinctively Western in life and manners. Especially for that reason, the
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  writer hopes that this volume of impressions and experiences gained during a leisurely horseback journey
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  recently made through the coast regions of the state, may be found timely and
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  not without interest and value. The matters of principle concern to him in making
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  his trip were not It is true the practical ones of commerce and its prospects
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  and possibilities. Rather, the facts and beauties in nature, and the humane
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  and historic elements in life were his points of special attraction. Thus it occurs
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  that neither the cities passed on his route, nor the industries of the coast
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  region are treated in particular detail. If apology be needed for any dearth of
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  what may be called practical information in the volume, he feels that the lack
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  has been, is being, and increasingly will be supplied by the many capable
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  pens always at work on the categorical and statistical side. In describing the features
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  of the scenery. No attempt has been made to paint in high colors.
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  Indeed, on a rereading of the manuscript, the impression is that, in
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  the desire to avoid the flamboyant at all hazards, the balance may have been
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  weighted a trifle on the conservative side. But if a mistake has been made,
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  it is in the right direction. And the writer states here his plain
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  belief that California, with her magnificent mountain range of the Sierra Nevada, her
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  generally diversified configuration, a shore line extending through nearly ten degrees of latitude,
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  with the variety in climate and in animal and vegetable life which that fact implies,
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  and a history tinged first with the half pathetic romance of Spain and then
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  by the brief but lurid epic of Gold is by much the most beautiful,
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  interesting, and attractive part of all the states of the Union. It may
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  fairly be pointed out further that it is only one region of the United States,
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  and indeed there can be but few parts of the world where one may
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  travel with enjoyment for half a year, continuously secure from climatic vagaries, and
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  carrying on the animal one rides everything needful for comfort by day and night.
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  There might well be organized a society of California rovers, whose annual program would
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  be to take to the road, trail, or shore at say, the
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  first appearance of apple blossom, and allow no roof unless one of canvas to
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  interpose between them and these hindly skies until the last late Pippin has fallen from
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  the tree. For the convenience of the general land, especially the non Californian
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  reader, the pronunciation and also the meaning where it is to the point of
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  these Spanish words which occur in the text, are given in a glossary placed
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  at the end of the volume preceding the index. These words are numerous,
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  but they are unavoidable in the nature of the case, since most of the
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  place names throughout the coast regions of California are Spanish. Beyond these place names,
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  however, the Spanish words introduced are only those that have passed into common
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  speech in the one time Spanish and Mexican territories. J s. C.
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  Los Angeles, California, Chapter one, leaving El Monte. Objects of the
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  ride, our horses and equipment, El Monte, the first mission, San
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  Gabrielle, Friendly Mexicans. A ranch house of old California. Downey, a
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  farmer of California's best type, Sleepy hollows, camp on the San Joaquin Coyotes
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  and sulfurous coffee. Laguna Canyon, Warfare of sun and fog the coast,
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  Laguna Beach. Hello, said the little girl in a sun bonnet, in
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  shy response to my own salutation. I do not know her, but I
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  like shy little girls in sun bonnets. Hello, traveling or just going somewheres,
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  said a pumpkin faced boy, grinning at us over a gate. To
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  this ingenious witticism, we deigned no reply. Hello going camping, said a
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  rancher, jolting on a load of hay behind two serious horses. The rancher,
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  with no very wonderful feet of discernment, had hit the mark. Carl
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  Idel, the painter, and I were riding down the south road from Elmonte
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  one midsummer morning, with our blankets rolled behind, our saddles and other appertinences
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  of outdoor living slung about us. Since I had lived in California, I
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  had been waiting for an opportunity to explore the coast regions of the state.
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  At last the time had come when I could do it and idle. My
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  companion on other journeys in the mountains and deserts of the West, was free
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  to join me for the southern part of the expedition. Our object was to
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  view at our leisure this country, once of such vast quiescence, now of
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  such spectacular changes. Especially, we wished to see what we could of its
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  less commonplace aspects before they could have finally passed away. The older manner of
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  life in the land, the ranch houses of Ante Gringo days, the Franciscan
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  missions, relics of the era of the padre, and the down the large
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  slow life of the sheep and cattle ranges, and whatever else we could find
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  lying becalmed in the backwaters of the hurrying stream of progress. As we meant
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  to camp wherever night might find us. We carried with us everything we needed
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  to make us free of cooks and chamber maids. At the same time we
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  determined not to be encumbered with pack animals. A description of our equipment may
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  interest the reader who wonders how this could be done on a trip which,
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  in my own case ran to something not far short of two thousand miles.
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  To begin with the horses, my companion's mount was a hardy and experienced Arizona
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  pony, round of build, sedate of temper, and serviceable to the last
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  ounce. He owned the straightforward name of Billy and looked it for years.
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  He and his master had haunted the outposts of western civilization, from the coast
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  as far as to the lands of the Navajos, in that picturesque region which
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  the Spanish explorers named El di Setero Pintado. Nothing came amister Billy, either
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  in forage or incident. He ate alternity of Mesquite, and Tuley's dozed equally
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  well under palm or pine, and viewed borrow train or automobile with impartial eye.
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  My own horse I had bought for this trip from a Los Angeles dealer
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  and knew nothing of him except that he was said to hail from some Nevada
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  stock range. As neither the dealer nor he could tell me his name,
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  it was needful to fit him with another, so from a trifling incident of
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  the purchase, I called him Chino. He had a good head and limbs,
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  intelligent eyes, and the lean body lines of a race horse. I
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  believe there was a strain of blood in him somewhere. He was gentle in
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  temper, and though excitable, was afraid of nothing except that some unlucky experience
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  had left him nervous of his picket rope. After a few proofs of this
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  drawback, I got him a pair of hobbles and had no further trouble.
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  For saddles, we both had the excellent mc clellan or Army pattern, which
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  are light, strong and fitted with rings and fastenings front and rear for blankets,
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  holsters, and other matters. We had had saddle bags built of stout
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  waterproof canvas fourteen inches long, twelve deep, and five in the box.
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  These were invaluable, rode well and held a surprising quantity. In one side
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  of the went our mess kit and cooking tackle. The articles all arranged to
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  nest and made with detachable handles. The stove consisted of merely two strips of
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  wraught iron, which laid across a couple of stones, or even across a
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  hole scooped in the ground, made quite a serviceable cooking place. On the
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  other side were notebooks, maps, ammunition, toilet things and so forth.
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  There was room for some odd articles of provision as well, and even for
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  a small volume or two. The other pair of saddle bags accommodated the bulk
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  of the provisions, of which the staples were rice, flour, oatmeal,
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  sugar, tea, coffee, and the invaluable herbs vorst a compact ration of
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  pulverized split peas and bacon. These items were supplemented as occasion, offered with
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  bread, cheese, canned meats, vegetables and fruit, while the gun provided
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  rabbits and other such games was in season. To complete the list of our
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  traps, I carried on one side of my saddle horn a small hatchet in
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  a sheath and on the other side a camera and a light tripod. ITYL
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  had the gun slung in a holster and his sketching things. Our blankets,
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  with a few extra pieces of clothing, were rolled compactly and fitted above the
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  saddle bags. Behind the saddles I suppose my horse carried a rider included about
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  two hundred pounds, and isols possibly a little less. These were good loads
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  for our rather light animals, but our stages were meant to be short,
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  and in the nature of the case they would often be broke. Since the
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  whole object was to look about us at her ease, as tourists stroll about
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  Paris on London, seeing the sights. The road we were riding along might
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  have been in Surrey or Virginia. So tall were the hedges that half hid
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  the fence in their wild sweet tangle. You will not see much of verdu
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  in traveling California roads. By midsummer, our sun is a thirsty one,
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  and for half the year the landscape at close range is one of dry,
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  brown earth and shriveled herbage, though distance may wash it over with amethysts,
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  as memory does with the unhappy landscapes of the mind. But the land about
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  Elmonte is damp and low lying. Green meadows and fields of alfalfa stretched on
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  either hand, and the road was triple boarded, first with vivid ribbons of
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  grass starred with dandelions, next with rushing bulrushes or horowy evening primroses, and
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  then with a fifteen foot thicket of bushes, over which rolled a flood tide
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  of wild grapevines, their tendrils reaching far up into the air in the determination
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  to grasp their fill of summer. The village of Elmonte is a rather pretty
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  little place, not too much modernized, with plenty of big poplar and eucalyptus
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  trees swaying above the modest cottages. I venture to hope that the reader agrees
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  with me in finding, as I always do, the dwellings of the rustic
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  poor, with their democratic marigolds and nasturtiums, more charming to the sympathies and
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  even to the eyes, than those elaborations of self conscious modesty that line our
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  streets. In these almost two elegant days, I seriously think that humble things
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  ought to please us best. The place stands near the bank of the San
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  Gabriel River, a dozen miles or so east of Los Angeles, and four
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  miles from San gabriel that dusty little hamlet, the long drowse of whose one
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  street of Adobees is broken nowadays by half hourly convolutions when the electric car comes
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  clanging with its load of tourists to do the venerable mission. Not many,
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  however, even of Californians, are aware that the crumbling old building, with
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  the ponderous green bells that threaten that every ring to wreck the cracked campanili,
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  is not the original building of the name. The first mission San Gabrielle was
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  built in the year seventeen seventy one, close to the river and about five
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  miles south of the present church. It was abandoned after five years by reason
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  of some disability of sight, and a second building was consecrated in the present
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  position in the fateful year of seventeen seventy six. It also was temporary,
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  and in seventeen ninety six the third and permanent structure took its place. As
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  the site of the first building was but a short distance off our road,
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  we diverged to see what might remain to keep the memory of its brief existence,
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  Passing a little huddle of dwellings, half house, half shed. We
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  stopped as directions of the unmistakably Irish head when apparently Mexican family he could give
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  us spart little help. He lived there a long time and had heard something
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  about an old doobie, but evidently was no antiquarian. Inquiry of a Mexican
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  woman who lived a little farther on resulted in the identification of a spot near
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  the bank of the river where we thought we could trace the outline of a
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  rectangle marked by a slight inequality of the surface of the ground, which might
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  indicate the ruins of adobe walls that had sunk back literally earth to earth,
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  to their original clay. It was in the middle of a field of yellow
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  grass, sprinkled with gray bushes of horehound, and defiled with the carcass of
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  a long dead buzzard. Hum of bees, murmur of summer wind, twinkle
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  of river shallows. These were all as of old. The rest was silence.
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  The morning had been cloudy with a high fog when we started, but
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  by the time we were a few miles on the road, the fog melted
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  away, leaving a sky of light sensitive blue dappled with faint clouds that were
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  like the size of a sleeping child. The hills on our left, under
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  which lay the little Quaker town of Whittier, passed from gray to fawn,
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  and behind us the rocky barrier of the Sierra Madre were streaked here and there
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  with folds of mist that clung in the deeper canyons. At a corner of
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  the road stood a school house, enclosed, as every school house should be,
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  in a square of trees. The trees in this case were especially handsome
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  poplars, rising like pillars of green flame into the air and resembling in shape.
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  I suppose that pillar of fire and cloud that led the way for the
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  fugitive Israelites. It was yet before midday when at the crossing of the river
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  we came to a simple, white plastered house with a great bush of some
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  flowering vine poring over the roof in masses of wine red bloom. Making bold
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  to tie our horses through the rail before the verandah, I entered into conversation
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  with the three Mexican women who were resting in the shade of the porch,
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  while Idol sketched the place. The senora, herself, a sweet faced old
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  dame, with quiet, kindly eyes, sat gazing out with placid enjoyment over
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  the river while we talked. The daughters, both mature women, stood by,
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  listening but speaking little. The equipment carried by our horses occasioned some curiosity
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  as to our purposes and destination, and I found it difficult to explain the
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  indefinite nature of our journey until I bethought me of that useful term paseo,
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  which told all in one word. A paseo, it may be explained,
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  is a walk, a ride, an excursion, a picnic. In fact,
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  are going anywhere and anyhow, so long as it is leisurely pleasurable,
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  And I'm businesslike. The old lady, learning that I was from Los Angeles,
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  grew eloquent in a gentle way over the advantages of living in this quiet
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  spot rather than in the city, where beyond noisy cars and much people,
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  there was nothing nothing. I had no difficulty in agreeing, but I fancied
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  that the science daughters by the door and another opinion with friendly adieus. We
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  rode on our way, and after a mile or so, stopped soon afternoon
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  under a shady pepper tree close to the Sanchez ranch. House. Here we
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  ate our lunch, while the horses refreshed themselves with a scattering of hay from
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  the field. Lately cut two Mexicans from the house came over to chat with
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  us while we smoked our pipes, displaying a great interest in our expedition,
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  and exhibiting that courtesy of speech and manner which, for some reason incomprehensible to
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  me, seems to be considered by many people as almost a base quality in
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  their race. The reader will no doubt notice in the course of these pages
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  that the Californian Spaniards and Mexicans, in one way or another, enter more
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  into my narrative than their numerical strength in the population of the state would render
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  natural. The reason is partly that my purpose led me much into those out
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  of the way districts, where they still form a large element in California life,
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  and partly that I have a genuine liking for them, not, I
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  may say, without the basis of considerable experience, I confess to having no
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  sympathy with the slighting regard with which they, especially the Mexicans, are held
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  by the great majority of people in the West, and to holding them quite
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  our equals using the word hour to signify the rest of us in general,
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  in that sum of good, bad, and indifferent qualities which makes up the
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  characters of races and nations. With his opinion and with the sympathy naturally accompanying
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  it, I find pleasure in their society, and the reader may perhaps receive
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  an impression of their greater importance in the community than their relative numbers would justify.
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  The old Sanchez House, which stands on an abrupt rise above the road
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  and on the river, retains still a few marks of the bygone importance of
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  the family. It's now almost a ruin and consists partly of the original adobe
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  house and partly of the later frame editions. Even these, showing traces of
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  unusual finish an expense in carved cornices and ornamental moldings, The cavernous fireplace and
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  vast stables testify to the numbers of those who gathered to the hospitality of the
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  old house in the days of its prime. All day we kept the south
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  road toward the coast, after crossing early in the afternoon the stream known as
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  Rio Hondo or Deep River, a name calculated vugus smile from the traveler who
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  passing over it in the dry season, sees nothing but a wide expanse of
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  sand and a thicket of willows. Sundown followed us on the outskirts of the
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  little town of Downey, where we pitched camp on a vacant lot adjoining a
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  church, and passed the night embittered by mosquitoes. We arose early and bad
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  adieu to Downey, while all but a few of the townspeople were still wrapped
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  in slumber or in the enjoyment of those serene moments during which one reconnoiters at
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  a long range the duties of the coming day. For us, it was
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  a day of long, straight roads of inexpressible dust, of leagues of sugar
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  beets and farms at mile long intervals. After the gloomy experience of the previous
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  night, it was cheery to anticipate a night of unbroken rest at the ranch
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  of a friend of Idols, to whose house we rode up just as the
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  family were sitting down to supper. We were at once welcomed to bed and
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  board. Hay was thrown down to our tired horses, and in due time
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  we slept the sleep of the just traveler who is secure, not only of
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  his own, but also his horse's welfare. Our host was a representative of
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  the best type of American farmer, a thoughtful, well read man, courteous
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  in the old leisured manner, widely traveled, and full of distinct impressions and
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  shrewd comparisons. Twenty seven years of California ranching on the grand scale had left
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  him with a well digested fund of practical outdoor wisdom that made hours of conversation
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  with him pass like minutes. His knowledge of the locality where he now lives
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  goes back to the time of its first settlement by Mormons, who, under
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  the unflattering names of swamp angels and tully rooters, found the region an almost
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  uninhabitable marsh, and have made it amongst the richest of California's boasted soils.
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  It was mid afternoon next day when we said goodbye and rode away. On
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  the right hand, the twin peaks of Santiago Mountain rose into a faint blue
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  sky, while to the south, a pearly bank of sea fog overhung the
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  Pacific. In spite of careful directions as to our road, we soon found
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  ourselves wandering in a maze of tully swamps and barbed wire fences, while hosts
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  of implacable midges swarmed us, biting furiously at horse and man alike. Two
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  Mexicans whom we met walking could give us no direction, but a chinaman and
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  horseback at last put us right, and we made a happy escape. The
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  time, we remarked, is oddly out of joint when Chinamen ride while Mexicans
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  go afoot. The road ran by sundry little settlements, some new and thriving,
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  others, such as the hamlet of Fairview, where a few old houses
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  and a church no longer young, stood among loquacious poplars and cottonwoods. With
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  all the phenomenal growth of population in California as a whole, we found tracts
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  of country here and there which have somehow been exempted from the influx, and
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  some of which, from that point of view, appear to have retrograded.
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  But the kindly law of compensation is quietly at work, and one finds a
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  charm in these sleepy hollows where nothing has grown but the trees, where the
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  improvements are only in the increase of moss and lichen on roofs and fence posts,
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  and where old ladies still drive with fat ponies and antiquated phaetons to sewing
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  meetings and ladies auxiliaries instead of whizzing in automobile to browning clubs and bridge parties.
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  Crossing the main Santa Anna Road as a meteoric procession of these last named
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  vehicles were bearing back Los Angeles holidaymakers from the seaside to their homes. We
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  struck across the San Joaquin Ranch. The sun was going down behind us,
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  and our shadows were projected gigantically before us. On the wide yellow plain.
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  Darkness took us surly, aided by the fog that had waited for set of
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  sun to advance its gray armies. A dry camp and a poor grazing seemed
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  to be our portion, but lark favored us, and by the last daylight
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  we descried in the distance a stack of baled hay beside, which was a
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  litter of loose hay, which we felt free to appropriate for our horses.
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  Then, prowling in the darkness in the faint hope of discovering water, we
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  came upon a good artesian flow issuing from an open well boring. It was
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  of blood heat temperature and strongly charged with sulfur and of highly unattractive odour.
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  But it was water, and neither we nor our animals were inclined to refuse
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  it, tying the horses securely lest they should be tempted to exchange our uninteresting
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  societ during the night for that of a band of their own flesh and blood
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  that were grazing nearby. We spread our blankets under the lee of the haystack,
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  and were lulled to sleep by a nocturn in which the wailing of plovers
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  competed at disadvantage with indescribable clamor of coyotes. It was something of a problem
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  next morning, how in this treeless country we were to achieve our indispensable coffee.
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  But Idyl, who was a sort of Bedouin, was equal to the
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  emergency. With ten minutes search, we gathered a few handfuls of dry mustard
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  stems, and with these he made a small but efficacious fire. The beverage
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  made with the sulfur impregnated water revealed a startling flavor, and it needed a
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  certain amount of determination to ignore its weird aroma. But it was hot and
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  we were cold, and so that it really went very well. We were
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  early in the saddle and making for the pass between the northwesterly flanks of the
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  San Joaquin Hills and the foothills of the Santa Anna Range of mountains. Indeterminable
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  beans in time succeeded to the miles of pasture land, and I gained an
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  increased respect for this useful legume when I saw it growing thus, not in
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  family backyard fashion, but in great horizon filling expanses from which loaded rail carts
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  would soon be rolling away to carry it by the hundreds of tons to the
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  bean loving world. A countryman with whom we talked told us that artesian water
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  lay at no great depth below all this level plain of the San Joaquin,
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  not to be confused, by the way, with the other Great San Joaquin,
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  the great Central Valley of California, whose southern boundary, the Tahatchepee Range
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  of Mountains, forms a convenient geographical division between the southern and central portions of
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  the state. I thought that if that were so, I could foresee the
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  time not so very far distant when the prairie like landscape I saw would be
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  checkered into hundreds of trim little farms occupied by farmers of the new style who
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  scientifically blending water and soil under the most generous climate in the world, would
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  cover the great expanse with the choicest fruits of the earth. Turning southward and
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  rounding the outermost point of the San Joaquin Hills, we began to descend into
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  the Laguna Canyon. Utilitarian reflections were not suffered entirely to occupy my thoughts.
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  Road. My companion noted with the painter's instinct the broad simplicity of line and
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  colour. Yellow bays of stubble washed far up into the folds of the hills,
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  and on their wide expanses, solitary oaks or islands of brush were stamped
• 33:19
  in spots of solid umber. The gray thread of road stretched on before us,
• 33:25
  appearing and lapsing as it followed the gentle contours of the land, and
• 33:30
  over all a sky of cobalt blue had succeeded to the broken grays and purples
• 33:37
  of the morning. At the head of the long descent to the coast lay
• 33:43
  a lagoon bordered with rustling tullis and populated by files of waterfowl. Here and
• 33:51
  there a heron or a sandhill crane stood sunk in abysmal reflections. Brush began
• 33:58
  to cover the hillsides, The half toned drabs and sages relieved with the uncompromising
• 34:05
  green of the tuna cactus. These decorated with vivid yellow blossoms that sprouted like
• 34:13
  jets of flame from the edges of the lobes. The canyon in its lower
• 34:19
  half is highly picturesque, steep hills close it in, and curious caverns,
• 34:25
  some of them of large size, give a touch of mystery to their rocky
• 34:30
  sides. This quality of the scene was heightened when a sudden sea fog that
• 34:37
  lay continually in weight along the frontier of the coast, gaining a temporary advantage
• 34:43
  by some slackness of the enemy, poured over the mountain to the southwest and
• 34:47
  cast the whole mass into impressive gloom. On the instant the leaf was turned,
• 34:57
  brush was transmuted to heather from California I was translated to Scotland. Fringes
• 35:06
  of sad gray cloud drooped along the summits or writhed in tangles in the hollows
• 35:12
  of the hills. One who did not know the almost impossibility of rain at
• 35:17
  midsummer in this region would have declared that it was imminent, a strong breeze
• 35:23
  blew salty into our faces, and when by mid afternoon we rode into the
• 35:30
  village of Laguna Beach, the sun again held sway, so the unceasing warfare
• 35:37
  goes along this coast. We rode our horses down to the beach. The
• 35:45
  philosophic Billy was unemotional as usual, but my Chino, a lean bundle of
• 35:51
  nerves, was deeply interested and gazed, snorting and breathing quickly at the phenomenon
• 35:59
  of the surf. Turning westward, we found an oasis of wild oats among
• 36:05
  the brush and cactus that occupied the rising ground at the back of the cliffs,
• 36:10
  and there cast anchor. It was highly pleasant at evening to lie in
• 36:16
  our blankets, listening for an hour to the surf growling like a friendly watchdog
• 36:22
  in our extensive backyard, and to wake, after a night of industrious oblivion,
• 36:29
  to feel the sea fog brushing our faces with its cool, soft fingers,
• 36:35
  a kind of infinitesimal needle bath. End of chapter one, Chapter two
• 36:44
  a Liso Canyon, The eucalyptus bird voices at morning a Painter's coast our camp
• 36:52
  atter Liso Canyon coast features and resemblances. A typical southern California canyon, the
• 37:00
  artist's point of view, A hermit's cave. California land grants their names,
• 37:09
  Dana's Cliff at San Juan, the town of San Juan Capistrano, its old
• 37:16
  time air, its ruined mission relics of mission days. Laguna Beach is a
• 37:25
  main resort of California artists, and the next morning was devoted to a fore
• 37:30
  gathering with certain of them who chanced to be painting in the neighborhood. Then
• 37:37
  there was a great comparison of sketchbooks the expeditions upon line, balance and mass.
• 37:44
  Not even the spectrum was out of range. With bohemian hospitality and a
• 37:50
  notable combastion of tobacco, the hours sped away until soon after midday we saddled
• 37:57
  up to move a short distance farther down the coast. A few miles along
• 38:02
  a road that wound and dipped over the cliffs, brought us by sundown to
• 38:07
  a Lyso canyon. A brackish lagoon lies at the mouth, barred from the
• 38:14
  ocean by the beach sands. The walls of the canyon are high hills of
• 38:19
  lichened rock, sprinkled with brush whose prevailing grays relieved here and there by bosses
• 38:25
  of olive sumac. A quarter mile inland we struck tokens of the neighborhood of
• 38:31
  a ranch, and here made camp under a rank of fragrant blue gums,
• 38:37
  populous with argumentative kingbirds and cheerful arioles. The landscapes of California have been greatly
• 38:46
  enriched by the acclimatization here of the eucalyptus. It is not often that the
• 38:52
  presence of an imported ingredient adds a really natural element to the charm of scenery.
• 39:00
  But the Eucalyptus, especially the globus variety, has become so common throughout
• 39:05
  the state, has so truly native appearance that it seems as if its introduction
• 39:10
  from Australia must have been more in the nature of a homecoming than of an
• 39:15
  adoption. The wide treeless plains and valleys, which once lay unrelieved and gasping
• 39:22
  under the summer sun and inspired similar sensations in the traveler, are now everywhere
• 39:30
  graced by ranks and spinneys of these fine trees, beautiful alike, whether trailing
• 39:36
  their tufty sprays in the wind, or standing as still as if painted in
• 39:42
  the torrid air when the winter rain comes. There are no trees that so
• 39:47
  abandon themselves to the spirit of the time, with wild size and every passionate
• 39:53
  action. They crouch and bend as if in the very luxury of grief,
• 40:00
  and toss their tears to the earth, like actors protesting their sorrows on a
• 40:05
  stage. The long, scimitar like leaves are as fine in shape as can
• 40:12
  be imagined, and each tree carries a full scale of colors in its foliage,
• 40:19
  the blue white of the new, the olive of the mature, and
• 40:22
  the brilliant russets and crimsons of the leaves that are ready to fall. The
• 40:30
  bark is as interesting as the foliage, its prevailing color, a delicate fawn,
• 40:36
  smooth enough to take on fine tone reflections from soil and sky. Long
• 40:43
  shards and ropes of bark hang like brown leather from stem and branches, making
• 40:49
  a lively clatter as they rasp and chafe in the wind, and revealing as
• 40:53
  they strip away the dainty creams and greenish whites of the inner bark. The
• 41:01
  tree's habit of growth sets off its beauty to the best advantage, long spaces
• 41:07
  of the trunk, arms and smaller branches, showing all their handsome colours,
• 41:13
  and drowing between the dense plumes of foliage. In early summer, the tree
• 41:19
  flowers with a profusion of blossoms uniquely tasteful, and later the seed vessels are
• 41:25
  as quaint and curious as rare seashells to crown all. The tree is as
• 41:32
  fragrant as sandalwood, and the scent a hundred times more robust than that exotic
• 41:38
  perfume which is fit only for seraglios, and the effeminate paraphernalia of Mongolian decadence.
• 41:49
  The night was cloudy but warm. Our blankets were spread upon a litter
• 41:53
  of blue gum leaves, and their vigorous essences gave the spot unusual attracts as
• 42:00
  a sleeping place. Something, however, probably the virtue of our laguna friend's
• 42:07
  homegrown tobacco, again made me wakeful, But it was enjoyable enough to lie
• 42:14
  and watch the quiet play of the foliage. The only sounds the gentle clatter
• 42:20
  of leaf on leaf, the industrious mastication of the horses, the occasional challenges
• 42:27
  of distant owls, and the monotonous voice of the surf lulling the earth with
• 42:34
  its unceasing narrative. The hubbub of birds that greeted the morning was something to
• 42:42
  remember. The kingbirds seemed to be the earliest risers, their waking complaints overlapping
• 42:49
  the long range adieurs of the owls. For some time nothing else stirred.
• 42:58
  No doubt, birds have their peculiarities of temper or at least of temperament,
• 43:04
  just as we have. I fancied the less strenuous inhabitants of the trees,
• 43:09
  lying lethargically gazing at the brightening sky, awaiting the fatal moment when the duties
• 43:16
  of the coming day could no longer be ignored, perhaps like some of us,
• 43:24
  the victims of liver. In due course the linnets, blackbirds, orioles
• 43:32
  and canaries came in, and just before sunrise the cliff sparrows, of whom
• 43:38
  a flock of full two hundred inhabited a cavern by the lagoon, filled the
• 43:45
  air with their sweet, trilling voices as they swung and soared in zestful maneuvers.
• 43:53
  Then the cliff friends cascade of plaintive chromatics rang out from far up the
• 43:59
  hill, and when the sun arose, and with him the insects, the
• 44:04
  flycatchers arrived to occupy the most desirable stations for business. Next, the quail
• 44:12
  began to call in the willows, their flutelike voices receding as they made their
• 44:16
  way to the hillsides for the day. The soft cry of doves came from
• 44:22
  the stubble, and finally the scream of a hunting hawk supplied the inevitable element
• 44:30
  of discord. Our camp here was so attractive that we remained for several days
• 44:39
  for my companion's purposes. The locality was quite undeniable, the coast both up
• 44:45
  and down, being ideally broken and paintable. Point after point, rich in
• 44:52
  ochres, madders and umbers ran into the sea of truly mediany and brilliancy and
• 45:00
  chains of islets ringed with flashing foam lay like pendants of jewels. On the
• 45:06
  turquoise plain, the cliffs rose in general to a hundred feet or thereabouts,
• 45:13
  and were broken by frequent canyons, which varied with lines of heavy brush.
• 45:19
  The sweep of hillside that ran to a horizon of large free outlines, dark
• 45:25
  ranks of cypresses, stunted and broken, stood here and there near the cliff
• 45:30
  edge, the when and by whom of their planting, offering problems of casual
• 45:37
  interest to the infrequent wayfarer. Thirty miles in the west lay the island of
• 45:45
  Santa Caslina, often unseen for many days together, and even in clear weather,
• 45:51
  hardly discernible above the gray line of the sea blink that banded the horizon.
• 45:59
  Before we moved on, Idyl had quite a gallery of studies and sketchings
• 46:04
  tacked up on the trees to dry. Altogether, ourkamp had an attractive air
• 46:09
  of al Fresco bohemianism, and we would not have exchanged it for the charms
• 46:15
  of the vash or rage or the bull Miche. Saddles, bridles, saddle
• 46:22
  bags, guns, spurs, and cooking tackle were strewn all about the little
• 46:25
  spot, which for the time we called home. An easel and palette signified
• 46:32
  the door of the studio, and our horses fraternized and quarreled alternately, in
• 46:38
  such close proximity to our beds that they could have kicked out our brains while
• 46:43
  we slept, if they had been so minded. This part of the coast
• 46:49
  of California bears a curious likeness to that of the Channel Islands off of the
• 46:53
  Brittany Coast. A difference there is in details, of course, geological structure
• 47:00
  of vegetation and somewhat colour. Here, warm ochres, creams and drabs alternate
• 47:07
  on the broken cliff faces with olive greens, grays, and masses of ashy
• 47:13
  rows, and the herbage of the tops carries out the same general class of
• 47:19
  tone. Cactus growing to the cliff edges gives a touch wholly characteristic of the
• 47:25
  region. But the long winglike reaches of the land line, where ten miles
• 47:32
  of coast will contain twice that number of little emerald bays, barred one from
• 47:38
  the other by white arms of spray, brought constantly to my mind the rocky
• 47:45
  shores of Guernsey and Jersey. There are some little castellated peninsulas that I could
• 47:51
  match almost detail for detail with some that I remember near Saint Orbin. Such
• 47:58
  resemblances are full of pleasure. They keep one's thoughts unstagnant and ever on the
• 48:04
  wing. And better yet, they reach down and stir sometimes those subtlest strings
• 48:12
  of all that vibrate in the dark, quiet chamber of the mind where lies
• 48:17
  the whale of tears, keeping that unstagnant too. One afternoon we rode a
• 48:24
  few miles up the canyon towards El Toro, the nearest point of the railroad.
• 48:30
  The valley, for it is too gentle in outline to be properly called
• 48:35
  a canyon, is so purely typical of many of the California landscapes that I
• 48:42
  will describe it as an example. As soon as we passed the gates of
• 48:46
  the ranch, we entered a league long valley from which rose smooth slopes of
• 48:52
  pale golden grass. The rounded swells and folds of the land took the light
• 48:58
  as richly as a cloth of velvet. In the bottom lay the creek in
• 49:04
  isolated pools, and reaches, its course marked sharply by a border of green
• 49:09
  grass and rushes. Red cattle grazed everywhere, or stood for coolness in the
• 49:16
  weed covered pools. The hillsides were terraced by their interlacing trails. Elders and
• 49:25
  willows grew at wide intervals, a blot of shadow reaching from each under them.
• 49:32
  The rings of bare gray earth were trampled hard as brick, where generations
• 49:38
  of cattle had gathered for shade. In one side reach of the valley was
• 49:45
  a little bee ranch of a score or two of hives, with the typical
• 49:49
  shanty of the bee man, closed and apparently deserted. It was an off
• 49:54
  year for bees. Near the coast. Excess of fog had spoiled the honey.
• 50:01
  As we rode, blue mountains rose on the northern horizon. They were
• 50:07
  the Santa Ana Mountains fifteen miles away. That was the only ingredient in the
• 50:13
  view that could come under the term picturesque. The rest was open, bald,
• 50:19
  commonplace. European painters American too. All but a few would have declared
• 50:27
  it crude and impossible. The yellow horizon was cut on the blue of the
• 50:32
  sky in a clean hard line. In one spot where the creek in winter
• 50:39
  flood had cut out a fifteen foot bluff, the shadow was a slash of
• 50:45
  inky blackness on the glaring expanse of sun bleached grass. There was always a
• 50:52
  buzzard or two swinging slowly in the sky, and once one rose nearby in
• 50:58
  a heavy shambling flight from its surface, on the carcass of a dead steer
• 51:04
  that was all but to idle, and indeed to me though I am no
• 51:08
  artist, it was complete and perfect. If beauty consists, as theorists I
• 51:17
  understand declare, in the true expression of spirit, then certainly this landscape complied
• 51:25
  with the terms. It was a very summary of the native and original California
• 51:31
  del sur California of the South, as nature designed it, and even the
• 51:39
  sophisticated mind trained to weigh tone, values and balance of line found the composition
• 51:46
  ideal in its magnificent western simplicity. Pretty hm A thousand miles from it picturesque.
• 51:58
  The very word sounds puerile, but simple, strong, dignified, which
• 52:05
  I take to be the primaries of art. After all, these were the
• 52:09
  very facts of the case, the materials of the landscape. Of small life
• 52:15
  there was a plenty, but not in much variety. Ground squirrels, by
• 52:21
  the hundreds scurried across the road or sat motionless, so exact an imitation of
• 52:27
  dead stumps of wood that it was hard to detect the trick which they no
• 52:31
  doubt relied on for safety. Their runways were as well beaten and plain to
• 52:37
  see, as in many places was the country road. We were on a
• 52:43
  ground owl, like another stump, sat on the edge of the creek bluff,
• 52:49
  his head revolving like a screw as he watched us through three quarters of
• 52:53
  a circle. Two road runners raced the way up hill, the sunlight glancing
• 53:00
  from their long straight backs and tail feathers as if from steel. Once a
• 53:06
  coyote stole up the hillside, standing in plain view on the ridge as long
• 53:10
  as he felt sure he was out of range, and then dodging from carver
• 53:16
  to cover until he reached his safe ravine. A hawk chivvied by kingbirds like
• 53:23
  a Spanish galleon beset by pirates, drifted and flapped about in misery, a
• 53:30
  fine moral spectacle of poetic justice. We had been told of a cave somewhere
• 53:37
  in the canyon, which had been in past days inhabited by a hermit.
• 53:43
  Our friend at the ranch remembered that nearly forty years ago his father had removed
• 53:46
  from it scraps of iron and such other articles as the hermit, even then
• 53:52
  long departed and already become historic, had left behind to keep his memory gray,
• 53:59
  as I suppose a hermit would prefer to have it. We had no
• 54:02
  difficulty in identifying the place, though we had not asked for direction to it.
• 54:08
  A mile or two up the canyon, we found a sizable cave in
• 54:12
  the side of a stony hill that rose from the eastern bank of the creek.
• 54:17
  The roof was still begrimed with smoke, so that the swallows and even
• 54:22
  the bats had eschewed the place, and idle picked up near the entrance,
• 54:27
  a stone pestle, such as was and still is common to some extent,
• 54:31
  used by the California Indians to grind flower in their more teros. This,
• 54:37
  no doubt, was the property of the legendary man. A little delving in
• 54:45
  the floor of the cave brought to light fragments of shells of mussels and clams,
• 54:50
  but nothing more eloquent of the past. Nor were any reflective inscriptions,
• 54:55
  such as one would think befitting, if not inevitable, were to be found
• 55:00
  on the walls. But hermits, we remembered, are not all given to
• 55:05
  scribbling, And then our friend, if we might take that liberty with him,
• 55:09
  might not have been able to write. In fact, we speculated whether
• 55:15
  he might not have been one of those kanakas whom Dana, in two years
• 55:20
  before the mast reported encountering. I thought at San Juan, only a few
• 55:24
  miles from this very spot, hence no writing, and the pestle and the
• 55:31
  art of using it were, no doubt the gift of friendly Indians. We
• 55:37
  fancied our man, a literal caveman, sitting at set of sun in the
• 55:43
  door of his lonely dwelling, revolving oermitical thoughts, and traveling perhaps in mind
• 55:50
  the leagues of blue ocean back to far Hawaii. We thought we heard him
• 55:57
  singing his superflumina Babylonis by the willows of the creek, and with kindly thoughts
• 56:04
  of the unknown brother, we turned away. It was generally mortifying after these
• 56:12
  sentimental exercises to find later that we had been at the wrong cave. The
• 56:17
  true places in a side canyon on the other side of the creek. And
• 56:22
  anyhow, it was at San Diego, not at San Juan, that Dana
• 56:25
  met his proteges. As we returned in the late afternoon, shreds of silvery
• 56:32
  fleece were drifting over the hill from the sea to dissolve in the heated air
• 56:38
  that still rose from valley and mountain. An hour later, the balance would
• 56:45
  be slowly reversed, and during the night the people of the inland towns and
• 56:50
  farms as far as to the foothills of the Sierra Madre would lie under the
• 56:54
  cool blanket of the sea fog. The land of California was held first under
• 57:02
  the Spanish and then the Mexican governments in large grants or ranchos. Most of
• 57:10
  these have under American rule, and, especially during the last few decades,
• 57:15
  with their accelerated development, been broken up, but a few remain intact,
• 57:22
  and the original names of all of them still adhere and preserve for us a
• 57:28
  touch of the glamor of the old regime. To name only those tracts which
• 57:35
  we had traversed in coming from Elmonte to the coast, there were San Francisquito,
• 57:42
  Portero Grande, La merced Paseo de Bartolo, Santa Gertrudis, Los Cootes,
• 57:51
  Los Alimitos, Las Balsas, Santiago de Santa Anna, and San Joaquin
• 58:00
  Aliso Canyon is on the niguel A designation, which has by general consent been
• 58:07
  englished into null a fair phonetic approximation. We now entered upon the grant of
• 58:15
  the Mission Vieja de San Juan Capistrano. The lands that formerly pertained to that
• 58:22
  once flourishing mission establishment. Wide levels of yellow grass that shone like silk in
• 58:29
  the sunlight led to a small canyon in which lay a narrow lagoon. Skirting
• 58:37
  this we came to a great expanse of stubble, with here and there huge
• 58:40
  stockpiles of sacked grain built up like ridouts, a palpable defiance to famine a
• 58:50
  shallow stream. The San Juan Creek here comes down to the sea. The
• 58:55
  adjacent coast was the scene of events narrated by R. H. Danes in
• 59:00
  that graphic chapter of autobiography two years before the mast to which reference was made
• 59:06
  on a recent page. It was easy to identify the cliff from which the
• 59:12
  hides were thrown down to the much abused sailors of the Pilgrim, and where
• 59:16
  Dana himself performed that perilous descent for which he received such ambiguous thanks from the
• 59:22
  redoubtable Captain t. The presence of a pensive pelican who sat, apparently in
• 59:30
  remorse of indigestion, on the topmost scarp of the cliff, seemed somehow to
• 59:36
  add in the reconstruction of these by gone incidents of the place. We now
• 59:43
  turned our back for a few days upon the ocean and rode inland. The
• 59:49
  sun, setting in a pageant of color, poured a flood of rosy gold
• 59:53
  upon the low hills to the east, and clad with a more solemn splendor
• 1:00:00
  the higher back ranges behind us. A segment of gray sea filled the mouth
• 1:00:07
  of the valley. Its passionless, unconcerning contrast with the companionable aspect of other
• 1:00:14
  features of the scene affected me with a sudden feeling of aversion. Water,
• 1:00:21
  though the most beautiful, seems the least humane of the elements. Darkness was
• 1:00:28
  falling as we entered the little town of San Juan, Capistrano. A few
• 1:00:34
  torpid Mexicans lounged outside the stores, which had closed for the day, and
• 1:00:39
  gave us buenos nochus as we passed. We camped beside a river half a
• 1:00:45
  mile beyond the town and enjoyed at night a fine entertainment of summer lightning that
• 1:00:52
  played upon the northern horizon. Lightning is something of a rarity in California.
• 1:01:00
  Capistrano, to use the common abbreviation, is the most interesting small town in
• 1:01:06
  California. The reason is that it has remained Californian in the old sense that
• 1:01:13
  is to say, Spanish, Mexican and Indian. I suppose five six of
• 1:01:19
  the inhabitants are of those races, and the remnant is a motley of Basques,
• 1:01:23
  Germans, French and Jews. Judge E, who is the justice of
• 1:01:30
  the peace and the effective squire of the place, is an American, certainly,
• 1:01:35
  but if you should ask his name, you would be told Don Ricardo.
• 1:01:40
  Capistrano's three score or so of houses are mostly adobes. Its stores are
• 1:01:46
  t nd us, its meat markets carnisierras. Its weekly function are baile,
• 1:01:54
  its celebrations fiestas, and the autumnal employment of its people piscondo nueses in the
• 1:02:01
  walnut orchards which fill the lower valleys of the San Juan. But the great
• 1:02:09
  charm of Capistrano lies in its mission. Here stood what must have been the
• 1:02:15
  most beautiful of all, that chain of twenty one churches, which in the
• 1:02:20
  last decades of the eighteenth century rose like a Monkish dream on the gentle landscape
• 1:02:25
  of California, culminating in a unique but momentary success, and sank quickly into
• 1:02:32
  decay under the exploitation of successive governors of the Spanish and Mexican regimes. An
• 1:02:40
  omen of the general catastrophe fell early on the mission of San Juan Capistrano,
• 1:02:46
  when in eighteen twelve, the great domed church, shaken by an earthquake,
• 1:02:52
  crashed down in hideous collapse, upon the congregation as they knelt at their devotions.
• 1:03:00
  There remains now a ruin of singular beauty, owl haunted colonnades of crumbling
• 1:03:07
  arches, clustered pillars, on whose broken filetings the thoughtful moonlight loves to linger.
• 1:03:15
  A fragment of the dome showing still the quaint frescoes of the Indian artisans,
• 1:03:22
  and a little nondescript campannelle of four bells, the pride of old Acu,
• 1:03:29
  hereditary ringer of bells to San Juan. The Padre, a cultivated,
• 1:03:36
  kindly young Kentuckian, made us heartily welcome to the hospitality of the quiet old
• 1:03:40
  place. We spread our blankets among the rustling wild oats of the quadrangle,
• 1:03:46
  and consulted for a few nights with the ghosts of neophytes of a century ago.
• 1:03:53
  The days passed quickly, idols in sketching, mine, in exploring the
• 1:04:00
  the pandre, the few remaining treasures of the library, slender tomes in rough,
• 1:04:04
  sheepskin like, tall, pale, old gentleman, written closely in Spanish,
• 1:04:11
  with records of christenings and burials, each volume devoutly rounded off with its
• 1:04:16
  laus deo, a triumph of flamboyant calligraphy, ancient sets of bousset and Massillon,
• 1:04:26
  breveries, missals, what not, all endued with that odor of sanctity
• 1:04:31
  which is neither Catholic nor Protestant, the sanctity of age and bygone human usage.
• 1:04:42
  End of chapter two, Chapter three. San Juan Hot Springs, San
• 1:04:47
  Matteo, a princely ranch, the Santa Margarito vicissitudes of western towns, fall
• 1:04:58
  Brook, Palomar Mountain, the Village of Palla, the wronged Indians of Agua
• 1:05:06
  Caliente, the Mission of San Antonio at Palla, American hospitality at the old
• 1:05:15
  Montserrat Ranch House, Echoes of the past, Don Tomas, Elvarraro, wild
• 1:05:26
  Cats, the San Luis ray Valley, wayside interludes, the Johome, its
• 1:05:35
  deterioration, the Mission San Luis Ray As restored, ocean side companionship and moods
• 1:05:47
  of the sea. Night at La Coster a dozen miles or so inland from
• 1:05:56
  San Juan Capistrano are the San Juan Springs. The short journey thither was fully
• 1:06:03
  justified by the beauty of the mountain canyon in which the springs are situated.
• 1:06:11
  We gazed at one another expectantly after taking our bars in the hot sulfur water,
• 1:06:15
  but were bound to admit that these soft and velvety complexions that are promised
• 1:06:20
  as a result had not been achieved. Turning again westward, we followed the
• 1:06:29
  valley of the San Juan down to the coast. Then for a few miles
• 1:06:33
  the road lay along the beach in company with the railroad. Now and then
• 1:06:39
  a train passed us, and jaded passengers lulling in corner seats turned eyes of
• 1:06:45
  envy, or so we thought, upon us, as we rode leisurely along
• 1:06:51
  our uncommercial travels. By sundown, we arrived at San Mateo, which we
• 1:06:59
  found consists of two ranch houses and a water tank, to say nothing of
• 1:07:03
  the name. Here we camped on the borderline of the counties of Orange and
• 1:07:10
  San Diego and performed the feet of cooking us supper in one county and eating
• 1:07:15
  it in the other. A long extent of thinly settled country continues to the
• 1:07:23
  southward, broken by canyons whose names offered interesting matter for speculation in advance and
• 1:07:30
  confirmation inexperience. El Horno, the Oven, Piedra de Loombre, Firestone,
• 1:07:41
  and Las pulled us the fleas again. We left the coast and struck inland.
• 1:07:50
  After crossing Aliso Creek, the road let up a long, winding canyon
• 1:07:56
  and then descended steeply to a wide green valley in which ranged great bands of
• 1:08:01
  cattle. It was the home ranch of the Santa Margharita, one of the
• 1:08:09
  largest of those princely estates in which the lands of California were held under the
• 1:08:14
  former rule. The house is a charming adobe roofed with tiles built in the
• 1:08:20
  Spanish mode around a flowery patio. Cascades of roses, bougainvilliers, and trailing
• 1:08:29
  geraniums pour over every fence. Hammocks, benches, and an ola of cool
• 1:08:38
  water invite one into the shade of the verandah, where antlers of deer are
• 1:08:44
  set above the heavy doors and barred Spanish windows. Hill and valley as far
• 1:08:49
  as the I can range are stippled with grazing cattle, and the air of
• 1:08:55
  the whole place is that of large, simple interests, moving quietly on,
• 1:09:00
  year by year, from a serene past to a tranquil future. We camped
• 1:09:09
  beside the creek and passed a strenuous evening in battle with the mosquitoes. A
• 1:09:15
  full moon shone down upon us and lighted the enemy to the attack. I
• 1:09:21
  turned in early, and, protected by an oil skin drawn loosely over my
• 1:09:27
  head, lay and listened with deep pleasure to their excited voices outside. From
• 1:09:34
  here we took the road to the east through the rural town of Fallbrook.
• 1:09:42
  This is one of the many California towns that owe their birth to great expectations
• 1:09:47
  which have never been realized. Fallbrook once boasted a railroad, but the timetables
• 1:09:56
  know its name no more. A large hotel, its gay paints subdued to
• 1:10:02
  a pessimistic gray bears the inconsequent name of the Naples. The only signs of
• 1:10:11
  life revealed by a careful survey of the main street at midday were two urchins
• 1:10:16
  eating ice cream and an elderly man with a faded valise, who stood gazing
• 1:10:23
  up and down the street, evidently looking for means of escape. A long
• 1:10:30
  and dusty road bordered with groves of sleepy olives, layed straight towards the mountains.
• 1:10:38
  In due course ensued grateful intervals of oaks, and then, better still
• 1:10:45
  glimpses of forest peaks, of which the highest was Palomar Mountain, more often
• 1:10:51
  called by its alias after a party by the name of Smith. It was
• 1:10:58
  good to see that du dim blue of timber, and to know that the
• 1:11:02
  great friendly pines were thriving away up there, while they looked down upon us
• 1:11:09
  who loved them. In the hot and dusty valley, the miles strung out
• 1:11:15
  unconscionably, but at last we saw far up the valley a white tower,
• 1:11:20
  which we knew to be the campernel of the mission of San Antonio of Pallor.
• 1:11:29
  In the gathering dusk, we rode into the village and bivouacked in the
• 1:11:32
  adobe walled courtyard in the rear of the general store. We dined in dust
• 1:11:40
  and darkness, and later, when the moon came up, wandered for an
• 1:11:44
  hour about the village. Lights shone here and there in the windows of the
• 1:11:49
  cottages. The humble, white railed braves in the little Indian cemetery glimmered under
• 1:11:56
  the shadow of the old tower, whose bells had counted out the lives of
• 1:12:00
  all that sleeping company. A mandolin tinkled, the mountains rose near and solemn
• 1:12:11
  all around. A bar of warm light shone from the half open door of
• 1:12:16
  the padre's room. In the cloister. From a new building across the street
• 1:12:23
  came the click of billiard balls. So even Pallor suffers change. Its great
• 1:12:31
  change came when, a few years ago the Indians of Agua Caliente, on
• 1:12:38
  Warner's Ranch twenty miles to the east, were forcibly and to go back to
• 1:12:44
  principles weightier than the law. Shamefully driven from the place that they and their
• 1:12:48
  forefathers had inhabited from time immemorial, and on which there chanced to be some
• 1:12:56
  valuable mineral springs that invited exploitation, the Indians of Pallor had dwindled too few
• 1:13:03
  in number, in compliance with the fear, so that is, ruling the
• 1:13:08
  American Aborigines out of existence. So in a business like manner, it was
• 1:13:14
  decided to lump the Aguacullientes with them to mingle or refrain as they chose.
• 1:13:23
  Of course, they protested, and their friends among the whites appealed, but
• 1:13:29
  someone in authority on the other side of the continent had said it was to
• 1:13:32
  be done, and it was done. Amid their lamentations. They were carted
• 1:13:39
  over the mountains with their pitiful belongings. And here they now live in a
• 1:13:44
  row of flimsy little houses with numbers on the doors. Quite respectable, comparatively
• 1:13:49
  prosperous, and deeply wronged. It is one more item in a long account.
• 1:13:58
  Their Indian hearts still yearn for the old places. Even the grasses for
• 1:14:02
  basket making are not so good, the woman said to me, as those
• 1:14:06
  of Aguacaliente are not a banna and farpa. The little church is inviting in
• 1:14:15
  its whitewashed simplicity. It is a plain rectangle of adobe, with tiled floor,
• 1:14:23
  unceilinged roof, a few plain benches, and an altar ornamented with paper
• 1:14:29
  flowers and other humble offerings whose irrelevance to a Protestant eye may well be redeemed
• 1:14:38
  by their pathos. The genial young priest has charge of four small Indian settlements
• 1:14:45
  besides this Sapalla, namely Potrero, Rincon, Pachanga and Palma. They all
• 1:14:55
  lie in the neighboring mountain region, and with his little buggy and his sagacious
• 1:15:00
  rowan, he drives about his wide parish, baptizing, marrying, and burying
• 1:15:06
  his Indians. As interesting and romantic a field of labor I should think as
• 1:15:13
  any in America. Leaving Pallor about mid afternoon, we turned coastward, following
• 1:15:20
  the course of the San Luis Ray River. Night overtook us before we had
• 1:15:26
  found grazing and water for our animals, and the prospect was not cheering.
• 1:15:31
  We were thinking of turning back, under necessity to the least undesirable spot we
• 1:15:36
  had noted when we came in sight of a ranch house, toward which we
• 1:15:42
  made in response to our hail, A lantern appeared, and the prompt reply
• 1:15:47
  to our inquiry whether we might be put up for the night was you bet
• 1:15:51
  you can. Certainly any one might bet on it at the sound of that
• 1:15:58
  hearty voice. Why don't you fellers throw down your blankets on the hay,
• 1:16:03
  I reckon, that's softer in the ground, was the next suggestion, and
• 1:16:08
  we wanted nothing better. Our horses plunged their noses into the hay, and
• 1:16:15
  we fell to preparing our own supper. But not satisfied with these benefits.
• 1:16:21
  Our friendly host of his kind wife would appear every five minutes with, can
• 1:16:27
  you fellows use some milk for your coffee? Or maybe you fellers like tomatoes,
• 1:16:32
  Well, here's a dish of them, and there's half an acre more
• 1:16:36
  over yonder, or some other hospitable inquiry. It seemed that they had just
• 1:16:44
  been waiting for some opportunity to shower benefits on wayfarers, and we were all
• 1:16:49
  deained to be the fortune. At once we slept magnificently on our ten foot
• 1:16:57
  thick mattress, and the next day, being Sunday, stayed all day with
• 1:17:02
  these warm hearted people. We found that the place was the old Monserrat ranch
• 1:17:09
  house, and as our host had lived there man and boy for thirty eight
• 1:17:14
  years, many were the tales he had to tell of the days when Don
• 1:17:17
  Tomas Alvarado maintained here the tradition of the grandees of Spanish California, ruling over
• 1:17:26
  a household of no mean dimensions, and himself ruled, so it is said
• 1:17:30
  by the priest, whom he kept as a necessary adjunct to his state,
• 1:17:38
  thirteen thousand sheep, three thousand head of cattle, and three hundred horses could
• 1:17:45
  the don call his own in the days of his prime. Yet he died
• 1:17:49
  a pauper, the victim of his own lavish dispensation of Peso's about the old
• 1:17:58
  house, lingers of faint essence of its past, a glamor of things strange
• 1:18:02
  and gone beyond arkhan. A date palm waves in languid grace over the patio,
• 1:18:12
  casting its fronted shade over the defaced walls and lazy balconies. A few
• 1:18:18
  rows of orange and olive trees dropped their starved fruit among the weeds, and
• 1:18:25
  a mareschal niel blooms secretly in a corner of the deserted verandah a conversation turning
• 1:18:33
  upon game, it appeared that this locality is a sort of headquarters of the
• 1:18:39
  wildcat tribe. Two hundred and fifty of these animals were killed by our host
• 1:18:45
  and his neighbours during two months of one prolific year, and last winter,
• 1:18:50
  he himself had accounted for nineteen in one month. When I asked gray eyed
• 1:18:57
  Edith, who had come with armfuls of puppies for our admiration, whether the
• 1:19:01
  wildcats did not kill their chickens. The answer came with eloquent brevity. Lots
• 1:19:11
  seventeen skins lined the wall of their little kitchen, and a heap more lie
• 1:19:15
  in the unused room, which was once the private chapel of Don Tomas.
• 1:19:21
  Among the wild cats skins on the kitchen wall, I noticed a frame motto.
• 1:19:28
  The words were love one another, and my last impression of the family
• 1:19:34
  was a delightful commentary upon it. The toil worn hand of the wife rested
• 1:19:41
  on the shoulder of her stalwart husband, who talked tender nonsense to the nine
• 1:19:46
  months morsel of baby that he held, while the other three children played an
• 1:19:51
  uproarious cowboy game of roping one another with a superannuated reatta. There was no
• 1:20:00
  need to say God bless them, clearly he does. The valley of the
• 1:20:06
  San Luis Ray River opened before us in wide stretches of pasture and grain land.
• 1:20:15
  Behind lay the long blue ridge of Palomar. The cool sea breeze began
• 1:20:20
  to blow up the valley, and the last gray shred of fog sank away
• 1:20:26
  into the immense coalbolt of the sky. Doves flew from Sycamore to Turkeyweed,
• 1:20:32
  and from Turkeyweed back to Sycamore. Buzzards sailed in the clear air, circling
• 1:20:40
  with unmoving wings and balancing with easy perfection of flight. A handsome young Indian
• 1:20:47
  passed us at a gallop. An automobile or two whizzed by. A Mexican
• 1:20:54
  family jogged along in a buckboard. So the old and the New California tossed
• 1:21:00
  their dust at one another all the morning. We plodded quietly along, ruminating
• 1:21:08
  lazily to the pad pad of the hoofs. After passing a minute hamlet called
• 1:21:15
  Bonsal Bridge, we rested for half an hour beside the road under a sycamore,
• 1:21:20
  in the fresh young leaves of which the horses discovered an interesting flavor.
• 1:21:28
  These roadside interludes are very pleasant. You tie your horse in the shade,
• 1:21:33
  take off the bridle, loosen the cinch, pull out your bread and cheese
• 1:21:39
  and munch it to the rustle of leaves and the interrogative comments of hidden birds.
• 1:21:45
  The brook poles along and your thoughts purl along with it. A draft
• 1:21:53
  of water, and then the carefully packing of the pipe bowl and the first
• 1:21:58
  grateful puffs. You slip the bridle on, tighten up the girth, swing
• 1:22:03
  into the saddle and ride on with one more little vignette added to the many
• 1:22:10
  such of which one is turned up now and then by some chance occurrence,
• 1:22:15
  whereupon there comes back to you the whole scene, with your companion, if
• 1:22:19
  you had one, or your faithful horse, now perhaps obeying another hand,
• 1:22:27
  or none. In the afternoon we diverged on mile or two to visit the
• 1:22:32
  Wahomie Ranch House, where it is said Helen Hunt Jackson gathered much of the
• 1:22:39
  local color for her famous California romance of Ramona. We found the place a
• 1:22:46
  particularly sad instance of the unworthy fate which has been allowed to fall upon nearly
• 1:22:53
  all of these relics of a picturesque past. The ruin of the wahome seems
• 1:23:00
  more like the hideous decay of a murdered body than the peaceful dissolution which shed
• 1:23:05
  over most ancient buildings. That particular charm, which we all recognize. Cans,
• 1:23:14
  bottles, and other refuse covered the floors and the broken chairs and tables
• 1:23:18
  of the rooms we entered. The fish pond was slimy and defiled, the
• 1:23:25
  fountain dry and shattered. But for a few flowers that blossomed in the dusty
• 1:23:31
  courtyard, I could discover nothing of attraction. It was a relief to turn
• 1:23:38
  our backs upon the place. As we rode back across the ranch, we
• 1:23:44
  passed a great band of sheep, and the barren ground ugly as an ash
• 1:23:48
  heap in the rear of the devastating army served to complete the depressing impression.
• 1:23:56
  A few miles farther on we came in sight of the Mission of Sad and
• 1:24:00
  Louis Ray, half hidden behind a line of blue gums. The mission,
• 1:24:04
  which in its state of partial ruin, was singularly attractive, has lately been
• 1:24:11
  restored, with the usual disastrous results. From the point of view of beauty,
• 1:24:16
  a barrack like addition has been built and fascinates the visitor by its appalling
• 1:24:23
  ugliness. Our intention had been to stay a day or two about the place,
• 1:24:29
  but we now laid our plans for an early departure. On the morrow.
• 1:24:33
  We put up our horses in the stable of a civil Mexican, and
• 1:24:38
  ourselves camped nearby, passing a night enlivened with dogs, fleas, and mosquitoes,
• 1:24:45
  but with a conspicuous absence of sleep. By four o'clock we were taking
• 1:24:51
  the road by the light of a waning moon towards ocean side, where we
• 1:24:57
  arrived with the sun novelty. We breakfasted at a hotel. Sundry small affairs
• 1:25:03
  of business delayed us till afternoon, and we mounted and pursued our way to
• 1:25:09
  the south. The road ran once more by the coast, and after passing
• 1:25:15
  the village of Carlsbad, lay along the beach. We looked forward with pleasure
• 1:25:21
  to a few days of travel, again within the sight of the sea and
• 1:25:25
  within the sound of its wise, admonitory voice. Already I found that this
• 1:25:31
  almost daily companionship had given me a longing to remain with it, to ride
• 1:25:38
  on far far southward through Mexico, Darien, and the long continent of South
• 1:25:45
  America, with the monodye of the surges ever with me day and night.
• 1:25:50
  What a ride that would be, And then perhaps up the other coast of
• 1:25:56
  the Western world. Though on reflection I think not, For somehow my long
• 1:26:03
  life in the West has weaned me from my old preference for the Atlantic side.
• 1:26:10
  After all, the West is finest. The new unformed West, with
• 1:26:15
  a tide of human life that spread out from old secret Asia, comes at
• 1:26:20
  last full circle and is already beginning to break in tumult against this farthest wall
• 1:26:29
  of the world. To day, the sky was overcast, and the gray
• 1:26:34
  sea plain ran to an indeterminate horizon, with that curious appearance of fullness which
• 1:26:42
  I have often observed to accompany similar conditions of sky. The long ranks of
• 1:26:47
  the surf crept patiently up to the ineffectual siege, forever unconquering, but forever
• 1:26:56
  unconquerable. It is so that I best loved the ocean, not glittering,
• 1:27:03
  gearish, with shallow laughter and flippant retort, but gray, reticent, resolute,
• 1:27:11
  proud, solitary. We entered now a silent region where wide expanses of
• 1:27:18
  grainland alternated with stretches of brush, and houses appeared at league long intervals.
• 1:27:27
  Here we crossed a wide lagoon, the Agua Hedionda, signifying ill smelling water,
• 1:27:34
  although the reason for the name was not apparent, which lies at the
• 1:27:39
  mouth of the Canyon de los Monos or Monkey Canyon, another cryptic designation.
• 1:27:47
  As we approached La Costa, where our road ran in company with the railroad,
• 1:27:53
  it began to rain smartly. By good fortune, a deserted house stood
• 1:27:58
  nearby, and this we appropriated to our uses, eating our meal on the
• 1:28:02
  verandah and finding the tea no less cheering for the fact that the well was
• 1:28:08
  inhabited by a trio of prosperous looking water snakes. The rain ceased by nightfall,
• 1:28:16
  and we slept under the cypresses of the garden hedge. A conspicuous event
• 1:28:21
  of the night was the passage of the San Diego Express at a distance of
• 1:28:28
  thirty feet from my head. End of chapter three, Chapter four. Boomtowns,
• 1:28:38
  del Mar, the Torry Pine, the old Alvarado ranch House, an
• 1:28:44
  incident of the eternal feminine, the decay of the historic Spanish California houses,
• 1:28:51
  Las Penasquitas Valley and ranch house, the Linda Vista Mesa, prospects of a
• 1:29:00
  kangaroo ranch, Mission Valley, the Mission of San Diego, older Town San
• 1:29:08
  Diego, our southern terminus, bay and waterfront, the highlands of Mexico in
• 1:29:16
  sight. Our route next day lay through a succession of depressing little boom towns,
• 1:29:25
  whose vacant stores and depopulated hotels bore witness to some of the more melancholy
• 1:29:31
  attributes of human character. As we surveyed the boardered up windows of a dry
• 1:29:39
  goods and notions establishment. My companion put the case neatly by remarking that evidently
• 1:29:45
  the fate of the dry goods had been too dry up, and the last
• 1:29:50
  and very best of the notions had been the notion to go away. Ensinnitas
• 1:29:58
  was only one of several such establishments hereabouts that has survived the unhappy omens of
• 1:30:04
  its berth. New capital wisely invested in roads instead of hotels. Bids fair
• 1:30:13
  to put this pretty little town on a safe footing At San Jalijo Canyon,
• 1:30:19
  where the Escondido Creek widens at its mouth to a considerable lagoon, the road
• 1:30:26
  crossed by a strip of beach, on which breaks an unusually fine surf,
• 1:30:30
  with a line upon line of long white rollers following each other in close succession.
• 1:30:38
  I should like to hear a winter storm beat on this exposed shore of
• 1:30:43
  Shingle, as I have heard them on the Shingle beaches of England, the
• 1:30:46
  wild air ringing with the shriek of multitudinous pebbles as they are driven to and
• 1:30:53
  fro by the claws of the raging sea. Above thunder of water and rock
• 1:31:00
  of buffeting wind, the cry of the tortured earth rises in a shrill Apacionato,
• 1:31:06
  a magnificent concert of the elements. Crossing yet another lagoon at the mouth
• 1:31:14
  of the San Dieguito River, we entered the village of Del Mar. A
• 1:31:19
  picturesque modern hotel forms the nucleus for a score or two of cottages scattered near
• 1:31:26
  a charming beach, and the locality is notable to tree lovers as being the
• 1:31:30
  home of the torrey pine Pinus triana, a tree whose circumscribed habit makes it
• 1:31:38
  a botanical curiosity. On the exposed cliff edges, the wind blown patriarchs of
• 1:31:45
  this little tribe crouch in eloquent attitudes, and it was interesting to note the
• 1:31:50
  similarity of form of this sea neighboring pine to that of the alpine white bark
• 1:31:57
  species, which I had seen the previous summer fighting for life on the other
• 1:32:01
  frontier. At two miles of altitude in the Sierra Nevada. We camped a
• 1:32:09
  mile beyond the town at a small farm whose kind people gave us the freedom
• 1:32:14
  of their pump. No slight boon, I assure the non California reader,
• 1:32:19
  and the next day struck inland, skirting the Solidad River. The name of
• 1:32:26
  this stream in no wise belies the solitary character of the country, where the
• 1:32:31
  scanty rainfall might well discharge the most optimistic of farmers. I knew the region
• 1:32:39
  twenty years ago, and the population now seemed to me more scanty than I
• 1:32:44
  remembered it at the time. Evening found us at Sorrento, a lonely settlement
• 1:32:50
  consisting of a store, a railway station, and two or three houses.
• 1:32:57
  Here we turned eastward and rode a mile to up Las Penasquitas Canyon to the
• 1:33:02
  ranch house of the one time Alvarado Ranch, now incorporated in Las Penasquitas Ranch,
• 1:33:10
  which formerly included only the upper part of the valley. A careworn woman
• 1:33:16
  and two wild looking boys were working in the dusk near the house and of
• 1:33:21
  the former We asked permission to camp by the only available water, which was
• 1:33:27
  within the farm enclosure. The request was neither granted nor denied, but implicitly
• 1:33:34
  discouraged. I make no claims to special penetration of character, But as I
• 1:33:41
  looked at her, and she looked with no friendliness at us, I felt
• 1:33:45
  sure I could trace the current of her nature and read her present state of
• 1:33:50
  mind only too plainly. She was a young woman and rather pretty as a
• 1:33:57
  girl. I think she had been very pretty. Her dress was rough and
• 1:34:01
  dirty, though natural enough to her masculine employment of digging. As we talked,
• 1:34:09
  I noticed that she tried instinctively to hide her torn sleeves and disordered bodice,
• 1:34:15
  and I thought I could see beneath the inhospitable frown, far less of
• 1:34:20
  inhospitality than of shame at her rough dress and her unfeminine labor. Poor woman.
• 1:34:30
  It was a trifling incident, a mere by play in the tragedy of
• 1:34:34
  the eternal feminine, the tragedy of a losing struggle for grace and loveliness,
• 1:34:42
  not only of dress and feature, but also with them, and unconsciously felt
• 1:34:47
  to be symbolized by them of mind and character, that old, unphilosophical,
• 1:34:55
  but very human relation of ideas. I saw it still more clearly when next
• 1:35:00
  morning we asked to be allowed to view the rooms of the old house.
• 1:35:05
  Disorder, struggle, and carelessness were written large over all, yet with a
• 1:35:13
  curious sense which I felt, without being able to explain, that they were
• 1:35:17
  hated and rebelled at. Poverty was written there too, unless I am vastly
• 1:35:25
  mistaken. Yet, when we tended payment for the privilege of camping. It
• 1:35:30
  was steadily refused, my sister. Though you will hardly see these words,
• 1:35:38
  the Spanish has a good adage for such cases. Dios se lo pogare I
• 1:35:45
  do not fear that you will be the poorer for refusing that coin. As
• 1:35:51
  we rode away from the decaying house, with its frayed old date palms and
• 1:35:57
  independent morning glories, we remind upon the discreditable feature of Western American life,
• 1:36:03
  which is illustrated by the condition of these interesting and once beautiful monuments to our
• 1:36:09
  history. Perhaps it would be too much to expect that those who have succeeded
• 1:36:15
  to the ownership of the estates of the Spanish Californians should expend a fraction of
• 1:36:20
  their revenues upon the preservation of the old houses. That is not our way.
• 1:36:29
  But it seems as if the state might well have taken sufficient interest in
• 1:36:32
  its own history to rescue one or two of these fine old houses from destruction.
• 1:36:39
  Even now. A very small sum of public money would purchase some restore
• 1:36:43
  an example or two, and a mere trifle would keep them in repair.
• 1:36:48
  But we in America are obsessed with our own particular conception of progress. And
• 1:36:55
  self sufficiency is always a blunder. Las Pennesquitas is a long, narrow valley
• 1:37:03
  threaded by a small stream, which in summer takes refuge underground from the thirsty
• 1:37:10
  sun. Scattered sycamores and elders grew here and there along its channel, their
• 1:37:16
  shade already early in the day pre emptied by groups of cattle. The canyon
• 1:37:24
  trends northeast, and when a slight rise of the ground opened a wider horizon,
• 1:37:30
  I recognized the distant outline of Quiamacha Mountain queer mac in the common speech,
• 1:37:38
  under whose nearer flanks I had lived twenty years before. While beyond it
• 1:37:44
  lay the home of my companion, amid the glistening sands and statuesque palms of
• 1:37:48
  the Colorado Desert. At the ranch house we found a squad of carpenters at
• 1:37:56
  work obliterating the traces of a recent fire. The solid walls of adobe were
• 1:38:01
  intact, which was fortunate, since the art of building such is now almost
• 1:38:08
  gone out of mind among the native population. We lunched under a shady pepper
• 1:38:15
  and only in the afternoon resumed our way, which led by a steep road
• 1:38:19
  up from the canyons to the south. From the summit, we looked out
• 1:38:26
  over a landscape quite different from any we had yet seen. From miles to
• 1:38:31
  south east and west stretched a level mesa covered with a growth of greasewood brush
• 1:38:39
  whose dull olive was unbroken but for the road which ran down to the vanishing
• 1:38:44
  point straight as a line could be drawn. This was the Linda Vista Mesa,
• 1:38:50
  one of the most hopeless of those arid tracts of land which, under
• 1:38:56
  the glamour of the boom found ready purchases high figures, but have since found
• 1:39:01
  none at any figure at all. The soil is red in claye, not
• 1:39:09
  that good red that tells of the blood and juices of the earth, but
• 1:39:14
  a pale brick color, malevolent even in appearance. Its superficial resemblance to the
• 1:39:20
  famous red soil on which some of the noted olive groves of California are now
• 1:39:27
  thriving, invited boomers to advertise it as having no frost, no alkali,
• 1:39:32
  no hardpan to which they should have added, no rain to speak of,
• 1:39:39
  and no crop. The ground is packed with cobblestones fuller than ever was a
• 1:39:46
  pudding of raisins, while so far from there being no hardpan, the unlucky
• 1:39:54
  purchasers often found it necessary to blast the holes for their ill omened trees in
• 1:40:00
  order to shatter the rock that lies like sheet iron just below the surface.
• 1:40:06
  In discussing the possible uses and prospects of this region, it Till and I
• 1:40:12
  agree that upon the whole a kangaroo ranch seemed to offer the best chances of
• 1:40:17
  success to an adventurous speculator without any special knowledge of the kangaroo. And we
• 1:40:26
  had a strong idea that this was about the sort of thing that appeals to
• 1:40:30
  that singular creature. Willingly, we turned our backs upon the Mesa and entered
• 1:40:36
  on a long canyon that bears the name of the great family of Murphy.
• 1:40:44
  Last year I had camped by Lovely Lakes under the shadow of Murphy's Dome in
• 1:40:48
  the northern Sierras. Now we searched and searched in vain for a trickle of
• 1:40:55
  water in Murphy's Canyon, at the uttermost southwest verge of the country. For
• 1:41:00
  now we were within twenty miles of the Mexican frontier. We dismounted, and
• 1:41:08
  mile after mile led our weary horses down the interminable grade. About sundown,
• 1:41:16
  we debouched into the valley of the San Diego River, generally called Mission Valley
• 1:41:23
  after the Mission of San Diego, the remains of which stand Hereabout turning up
• 1:41:29
  the valley for half a mile, we prospected among the willows and cottonwoods of
• 1:41:33
  the river bed for water, and found a few small pools standing but not
• 1:41:39
  stagnant. Here we unsaddled under a goodly cottonwood, near which was a space
• 1:41:45
  of fair pasturage. It was five weeks to a day since we had left
• 1:41:51
  Elmonte, and now we were practically at San Diego, the southern limit of
• 1:41:58
  our joint expedition. The event warranted an uncommon supper, and thereafter we lay
• 1:42:03
  at ease. While we smoked and indulged the retrospective vein. The sky was
• 1:42:12
  all but cloudless, the stars shone cheerfully down, and the mild and friendly
• 1:42:17
  air for which San Diego is renowned invited us to a pleasant slumber or equally
• 1:42:25
  pleasant reverie. A vagrant mosquito now and then sounded his unrelenting horn, but
• 1:42:32
  was easily discouraged or quashed, even while we praised the charms of lying awake
• 1:42:40
  we fell asleep, and when I awoke, the moon, her last quarter
• 1:42:45
  half spent, looked down on me from a large stage of her journey that
• 1:42:50
  told me it was near morning. Before it was daylight, the sky was
• 1:42:57
  overcast, for the sea fog had come men on the wings of the morn,
• 1:43:01
  an arrangement that is always agreeable to me, since it allows a breakfast
• 1:43:05
  being cooked without enduring a superfluous blast of sun. I confess I find the
• 1:43:14
  manufacture of flapjacks over a smoky fire with a fervent sun castigating me from above,
• 1:43:19
  an exercise that puts too much strain upon the early morning temper. The
• 1:43:26
  next day was Sunday, so we did not break camp. The peace of
• 1:43:30
  the day was somewhat disturbed by a promiscuous bombardment from the sportsmen of San Diego,
• 1:43:36
  who arrived early and in unreasonable numbers to bag the mission doves and rabbits.
• 1:43:45
  We pastured the horses well out in the open, where they would be
• 1:43:47
  in plain view, and ourselves sat in partial security under the lee of a
• 1:43:53
  scrap of adobe wall, gazing off at the mellow fragment of western antiquity,
• 1:44:00
  with its romantic setting of waving palms and black and silver olives, and trying,
• 1:44:04
  without too much exertion, to call to mind the long past days when
• 1:44:11
  the scene that now lay so solitary before us was busy with cowled monks,
• 1:44:16
  Indian neophytes, and Spanish men at arms. Early on Monday morning, we
• 1:44:24
  set off westward down the valley and came by the middle of the morning to
• 1:44:29
  the northern suburb of San Diego, which is called Old Town in distinction from
• 1:44:33
  the modern city. It lies at the head of the superb Bay of San
• 1:44:39
  Diego, while the newer city occupies the middle sweep. Its great interest is
• 1:44:46
  the old mansion of the Estudio family, a good example of the early California
• 1:44:53
  residence, which has lately been restored and is used as a tourist attraction.
• 1:44:59
  A small restaurant takes up one of the rooms, where genuine Spanish dishes are
• 1:45:02
  served by velvetide senoritas. We called for tamales, believing that we might here
• 1:45:11
  do so with more confidence than one can usually feel when indulging in that ingenious
• 1:45:16
  article. A ride of an hour brought us to the present city of San
• 1:45:21
  Diego, where our appearance, long of hair stained with travel and somewhat out
• 1:45:27
  of repair, occasioned no little comment among the idlers on flower covered porches and
• 1:45:32
  shady balconies. We had some little difficulty, in these days of the all
• 1:45:39
  usurping automobile, in finding a livery stable, and I was amused at she
• 1:45:45
  Know's evident anxiety on the matter. He clearly understood that the change in his
• 1:45:50
  surroundings portended hay grain and convenient lodging arrangements with the society of interesting strangers of
• 1:45:59
  his kind, and he was naturally eager to arrive at the haven. When
• 1:46:04
  at last we came to the expected wide doorway, he steered promptly and with
• 1:46:10
  determination for it, and he and Billy lost not a moment in attacking the
• 1:46:15
  hay, nibbling surreptitiously at the fragrant bales as they passed to their stalls.
• 1:46:24
  We next sought modest courters for ourselves, where the spectacles and benevolent aspect of
• 1:46:30
  the good landlady could not quite disguise her qualms at our dusty and tramp like
• 1:46:36
  appearance. Here we cast anchor, spending our days among barbers and clothiers,
• 1:46:44
  and our nights in tossing on beds of unaccustomed softness. I had known the
• 1:46:49
  city twenty years before, when it was drawing its first bewildered breaths after the
• 1:46:56
  cataclysm of its boom, and I had always cherished a pleasant feeling for the
• 1:47:01
  place. Why has Smithville hosts of friends, while Jonesville, its twin in
• 1:47:09
  all points of outward seeming, is condemned by all men as a blot upon
• 1:47:14
  the geography of its state. The peculiar subjectiveness of towns is a curious study
• 1:47:20
  in what one might call physical psychology. The purpose of these pages does not
• 1:47:28
  require a description of the city, nor do my own preferences lead me much
• 1:47:31
  into the regions of statistics and real estate. Suffice it to say that San
• 1:47:38
  Diego is a prosperous, energetic place which is rapidly adding to its present population
• 1:47:44
  of some forty thousand contented people. I own. I was best pleased to
• 1:47:49
  walk along the waterfront by the rows of little amphibian huts that I remembered from
• 1:47:55
  former days. Flowers bloomed in cans and boxes all about these humble dwellings,
• 1:48:01
  and the boats slapped idly on the water by the crazy landing stages. Odors
• 1:48:09
  unnamed because unnameable greeted me with claims upon my friendly remembrance, and the new
• 1:48:15
  generation of waterfront children seemed no less arch and engaging than those of yore.
• 1:48:24
  Three steamers lay at the wharves, and two large lumber schooners swung in the
• 1:48:29
  tideway. A knot of torpedo boats were anchored on the Coronado side of the
• 1:48:34
  bay. Point Loma, famous among Theosophists, stood up well and boldly,
• 1:48:42
  a worthy headland for the abutment of a sovereign state. And in the south,
• 1:48:47
  beyond the forlorn waste of National City rose wistful and pale, the blue
• 1:48:55
  highlands of Mexico. End of Chapter four, Chapter five, northward bound San
• 1:49:06
  Fernando, its mission, the San Fernando Valley, Topanga Canyon, wildflowers,
• 1:49:15
  a wayside, Thomas, the coast, Dana's opinion of San Pedro. Northwestward
• 1:49:25
  ho the Malibu no trespassing shore side sheep. I am an object of compassion.
• 1:49:35
  The pro and con of solitude, camp by the ocean edge. The
• 1:49:43
  middle of May of the next year, after my expedition with Idyl southward from
• 1:49:47
  Los Angeles, found me again in the saddle. This time I was alone
• 1:49:54
  and northward bound. My appetite for practical geography had only been whetted by the
• 1:50:00
  fraction I have seen of the coastline of the state, and I felt bound
• 1:50:04
  now to complete the unit. I had the same horse and much the same
• 1:50:09
  equipment as before, the principal difference being that, to save weight, I
• 1:50:14
  carried no gun, but instead a short jointed fly rod, which found frequent
• 1:50:18
  use. Also, I had had made a little tent, a very light
• 1:50:25
  oiled material fitted with jointed aluminium poles, the whole weighing about six pounds.
• 1:50:32
  This was in view of the fact that the rainy season might overtake me before
• 1:50:38
  I completed the trip. For a great part of the journey, I did
• 1:50:42
  not carry it with me, but had it sent forward to San Francisco,
• 1:50:46
  ready for the expected change of climate. Again. My starting point was Elmonte,
• 1:50:53
  where my good Chino had just enjoyed a liberal vacation in pasture. I
• 1:50:59
  took a somewhat secuitous route to the coast, and for two reasons. In
• 1:51:03
  the first place, I was willing to forego the site of that galaxy of
• 1:51:08
  seashore pleasure towns, Santa Monica, Redundo, Long Beach, San Pedro and
• 1:51:14
  several more, which, in the exuberant metaphor of real estate circulars, are
• 1:51:18
  flung like a tribute of gems at the feet of Imperial Los Angeles. In
• 1:51:26
  the second I wished to visit the Mission of San Fernando, lying twenty miles
• 1:51:30
  northwest of Los Angeles and half as much more from my point of departure.
• 1:51:36
  I had a long ride and a hot day for my start, and Chino's
• 1:51:41
  load was no light one. I rode by way of Pasadena and the Canada
• 1:51:46
  that connects the Sam Gabriel and San Fernando Valleys, and put up for the
• 1:51:51
  night at the little town of San Fernando. The next day being Sunday,
• 1:51:58
  I remained about the place while Chino, in stable, made industrious preparations for
• 1:52:04
  strenuous days at hand. The Mission of San Fernando, which was founded in
• 1:52:11
  seventeen ninety seven, probably never had as great claims to notice on the score
• 1:52:17
  of beauty as had some others of those interesting monuments. But the heavy,
• 1:52:24
  low building, with its long line of arches, red tiled roof, and
• 1:52:29
  elementary campanil, is pleasing for its simplicity and seems appropriate to the humility of
• 1:52:35
  the Order of Saint Francis. The church itself is in ruins and shows plain
• 1:52:42
  evidences of the unhallowed industry of treasure seekers. With crow bars, an old
• 1:52:49
  Mexican now guards the place, unlocking for a small payment, wormy doors with
• 1:52:56
  fiddle like keys, and leading the visitor by precarious stairways to moldy lofts and
• 1:53:02
  cellars peopled with the shades of priest and neophyte, commandante and Saldado de Cuero.
• 1:53:13
  The San Fernando Valley through which I rode next day, is an example
• 1:53:17
  of those famous ranches in which the lands of California were held by grantees of
• 1:53:23
  the Spanish or Mexican government. This was one of the last of them to
• 1:53:29
  remain unbroken, and was now in process of being surveyed for selling off to
• 1:53:33
  settlers of the New Order. It opened before me in league on league of
• 1:53:41
  grain, waving ready for harvest, a crop to be measured by the thousands
• 1:53:46
  of tons. The landscape flickered under an ardent sun, and as we plodded
• 1:53:54
  hour after hour along the tedious straight roads, escorted by clouds of punch dust,
• 1:54:00
  I panted for the clean, crisp breezes, which I knew were blowing
• 1:54:05
  just beyond the low range of the Santa Monica Mountains to the south. No
• 1:54:12
  single tree offered respite of shade, and the two or three ranch houses we
• 1:54:16
  passed looked almost hideous in their blistering whitewash. Gradually the valley began to close
• 1:54:24
  in toward the west, where the wooded, seamy hills rose to meet the
• 1:54:29
  higher Santa Susannas. And turning at last southward, I struck into the main
• 1:54:35
  coast road and came by sundown to the little village of Calabasas, drawing rain
• 1:54:42
  before a small building which bore the sign of the Hunter's Inn. Automobiles were
• 1:54:48
  whizzing about like cockchafers, and the landlord, after a careless word in answer
• 1:54:55
  to my inquiry for broaden lodging, turned his attention to the superior order of
• 1:55:00
  travelers, leaving me to arrange where and how I pleased for both my horse
• 1:55:05
  and myself. At the third request, he condescended to show me a room
• 1:55:12
  which made amends by its pleasing rusticity. There was a wren in occupation,
• 1:55:18
  and a great oak tapped with friendly fingers on window and roof. Supper.
• 1:55:25
  When at last it came, showed host and hostess in a better light,
• 1:55:30
  so that conversation ran agreeably. The night was made pleasant by a sound,
• 1:55:35
  as of rain on the roof from the drops condensed by the fog by my
• 1:55:41
  sociable oak. When I took the road early next morning, the fog still
• 1:55:46
  hung over the landscape in wreaths of thoughtful gray, broken to east and south
• 1:55:51
  by auspicious gleams of sun. A superb freshness lay upon every lee, beef
• 1:56:00
  and flower, and the very stones of the highway appeared to share the improvement.
• 1:56:08
  The road now struck directly down to the coast, following the Topanga Canyon,
• 1:56:13
  and the way was enlivened by a thread of water which grew quickly into
• 1:56:17
  a sizeable brook. I was impressed by the ruggedness of the mountain slopes,
• 1:56:24
  which rose in striking masses and contour, and in places pushed the road into
• 1:56:29
  a mere defile, overhung by precipices of fine height and verticality. At the
• 1:56:36
  northern end of the canyon are many neat little hillside farms, mainly of Mexicans,
• 1:56:43
  and the dust of the road was plentifully marked by the scamperings of children's
• 1:56:47
  naked feet. The summer was at its full of flowers. The beautiful tree
• 1:56:55
  poppy grew freely in many places, bearing shallow cups of pale illis gold at
• 1:57:00
  twice a man's height. By the roadside bloomed the great golden marrow poser tulip
• 1:57:08
  flecked with brown, a truly magnificent blossom. Mountain Lilac was just breaking into
• 1:57:15
  clouds of fragrant azure, and wild roses daintily simple gleamed from every thicket.
• 1:57:24
  I always feel that the wandering Britain owes a special debt to nature for the
• 1:57:30
  wide dissemination of this delightful flower which greets him. In so many alien lands,
• 1:57:36
  Poppies, Mimulus brodias, and many more added their cheerful colours to the
• 1:57:44
  summer show. There were few travelers on the road, but while I stopped
• 1:57:48
  to lunch by a little stream that came in at a bend of the canyon,
• 1:57:54
  an old man came by driving a wagon and turned in for the midday
• 1:57:59
  rest the same spot. We fell to chat about such universal topics as crops,
• 1:58:05
  aeroplanes, and local politics, and grew quite cordial over the sugar trust.
• 1:58:13
  I saw that my friend's attention had been caught by Chino's equipment, but
• 1:58:17
  it was not until I was ready to move on that he brought out the
• 1:58:20
  inevitable what are you bound for? When I replied to Oregon, I saw
• 1:58:28
  a look of annoyance come into his face. I already found that my expedition
• 1:58:32
  appeared a formidable one to the average stay at home, but this old fellow
• 1:58:38
  was a frank unbeliever. Where did you say? He inquired again, sternly.
• 1:58:44
  This time Oregon I answered why not? But he felt sure now that
• 1:58:49
  he was being trifled with, and the only response to my parting good day
• 1:58:56
  was a mortified grunt. Day's travel had been a pretty hard one for us
• 1:59:01
  both, and I determined to make this one correspondingly light. So when by
• 1:59:08
  mid afternoon we came near the mouth of the canyon, as I knew by
• 1:59:13
  the distant sound of breakers, I stopped at a little opening and pitched camp.
• 1:59:18
  The stream contained some fair sized trout, and half an hour's fishing produced
• 1:59:24
  my supper. A ruminative evening. By the camp fire closed the day,
• 1:59:31
  I turned in betimes and lay once more, as many times last year,
• 1:59:36
  listening to the murmur of the sea, which was now again to be my
• 1:59:41
  great monologist. For perhaps half a year. I was astir by first daylight,
• 1:59:47
  and was early on the way to the mouth of the canyon. As
• 1:59:53
  I reached the top of a little rise, the roar of the sea close
• 1:59:57
  by met me with a sort of oystering friendliness, like the welcoming of some
• 2:00:01
  tremendous mastiff. Looking eastward from the clear from which I stood, I could
• 2:00:09
  see the long wharf at Santa Monica, and beyond a long curve of shore
• 2:00:14
  that ran to the Palace Verdes, and the promontory of Point Fermeen. Beyond
• 2:00:20
  that lay the town of San Pedro, detested of Dana, who in eighteen
• 2:00:26
  thirty five reported it as being universally called the hell of California, and who
• 2:00:33
  himself wrote of it that this rascally hole of San Pedro is unsafe in every
• 2:00:40
  wind but a southwester, which is seldom known to blow more than once in
• 2:00:45
  half a century. Now, three quarters of a century later, the rascally
• 2:00:51
  Hole is in process of becoming a great port with a much wider range of
• 2:00:58
  interest than the shipping of California bank notes, which Dana calls the hides which
• 2:01:03
  formed the return cargo of the pilgrim. Turning to the west, my eye
• 2:01:10
  followed the long reaches of broken cliff, along which ran my road until the
• 2:01:15
  land view was closed by the low yellow cape of Point Doom. I lingered
• 2:01:23
  here a few minutes while I enjoyed the occasion, for here my northern coast
• 2:01:28
  trip was actually to begin. It seemed, in a modest way, momentous
• 2:01:34
  to be turning my face northward and westward. And I surveyed in fancy the
• 2:01:40
  long leagues of coast which I was to travel to, where instead of languid
• 2:01:45
  dunes and sunburned brush, I should ride by stalwart cliffs and through stately alleys
• 2:01:51
  of forest. There was deep pleasure in the prospect. Thureau says that the
• 2:02:00
  the southwest was his point of inclination for travel, and enlarges in his ingenious
• 2:02:04
  way upon the reasons for his preference. For me, it is always the
• 2:02:11
  Northwest that captures my imagination. The west is but another name for the wild
• 2:02:16
  thorough remarks, And in the same fanciful way, the north seems to me
• 2:02:23
  somehow to signify the noble was not the Northwest passage or was a natural goal
• 2:02:30
  for enterprise and gallantry. Farewell, then, I said, land of the
• 2:02:35
  South and sea of the South, and welcome the ultimate West, and the
• 2:02:41
  dark, the gray, the solitary North. My Chino, meanwhile, free
• 2:02:48
  from such unpractical abstractions, was employing his leisure with the cliff side herbage.
• 2:02:56
  He is an engaging creature, and we had many sentiments and even conversations together,
• 2:03:02
  sharing confidences upon the quality of the water, or the state of the
• 2:03:06
  road, and other such matters of mutual interest. Automobiles, naturally were often
• 2:03:13
  a topic, and I may say that Gino's views on that subject, which
• 2:03:17
  may easily be guessed, were quite my own. Turning then westward, a
• 2:03:25
  few miles of pleasant road brought us to the entrance to the Malibu Ranch,
• 2:03:30
  a long strip of land lying between the southward facing foothills of the Santa Monica
• 2:03:34
  Mountains and the shore. At the gate was posted a warning that trespassing was
• 2:03:42
  strictly prohibited. I knew that public right away through the ranch had long been
• 2:03:47
  contested by the owners, and I had been warned that I might find my
• 2:03:51
  way disputed by their mermidons with shotguns. But there was nothing except the passive
• 2:03:59
  placard to prevent my entering, and I passed in with little doubt of making
• 2:04:03
  an equally peaceable exit. At the western end, on a limb of a
• 2:04:10
  sycamore that overhung the road, a large cross was roughly cut. It marks
• 2:04:16
  the place of one of the many commonplace tragedies of early California days. Some
• 2:04:23
  horse thief name now unknown was hanged there. Perhaps it would be better to
• 2:04:30
  say some alleged horse thief for mistakes, no doubt, occurred on occasions when
• 2:04:35
  somebody had to hang, and quickly too, and when justice, playing a
• 2:04:41
  sort of hide and seek, might let her sword fall suddenly upon any members
• 2:04:46
  of the free and easy community who was so unwisest to get in the way.
• 2:04:54
  The hard sand beach here offered a tempting road along the water's edge,
• 2:04:59
  and I turned down to it. He was a little averse at first to
• 2:05:03
  facing the burst of the rollers and stepping into the hissing froth, but he
• 2:05:10
  soon caught the idea, and with arched neck and gay bearing, splashed through
• 2:05:15
  the wash of the breakers and kicked the creamy fans of water into sparkling showers.
• 2:05:21
  I had only seen one or two people on the road that day,
• 2:05:25
  and it seemed as if we were quite the only trespassers, until I saw
• 2:05:29
  a mass of whitish objects approaching, and heard a new sound mingling with the
• 2:05:33
  lazy booming of the sea. As we came nearer, I saw that it
• 2:05:39
  was a band of sheep, which were being driven along the beach by a
• 2:05:43
  mounted Mexican, aided by dogs. It seemed odd to see these pastural creatures
• 2:05:49
  marching composedly along Neptune's frontier, nibbling at seaweed, their voices rising in plaintive
• 2:05:58
  crescendo above the reces of the surf. A splendid ram walked with immense dignity
• 2:06:05
  at the head of the flock, his long fleece quivering as he stepped,
• 2:06:10
  like that great beard of the prophet, by which good Mussulmans swear. The
• 2:06:16
  herder rode behind on a lively broncho. We stopped to pass a few words,
• 2:06:23
  and I learned that he and his band had come down the coast over
• 2:06:26
  a hundred miles and were bound for the neighborhood of San Juan Capistrano, nearly
• 2:06:31
  as far still to the south. The mention of my own destination excited his
• 2:06:36
  pity. Ah, it makes much cold there. I've heard that it rains
• 2:06:42
  always? Is it not true? I explained that it was not quite so
• 2:06:47
  bad as that, But he still gazed at me with compassion, and rejoined
• 2:06:51
  with a shrug. Not to see, ever, the sun and the fruits
• 2:06:57
  and the good wine do not grow there. Ha, such a country,
• 2:07:00
  I should not like it. His sheep had left him far behind while we
• 2:07:05
  talked, and he now said adios and turned to overtake them. But as
• 2:07:12
  he rode away, he still shook his head over the thought of a country
• 2:07:15
  where it rained always and the good wine could not grow. The promontory of
• 2:07:23
  Point Doom, like a flattened turret, stands well out to the south about
• 2:07:29
  midway of the Malibu. Here the road bent inland for a mile or two,
• 2:07:34
  but soon again came down to the shore. Frequent canyons, each of
• 2:07:41
  them carrying a small stream of water, broke the seaward slope of the mountains.
• 2:07:46
  Evening was drawing near when I found myself at the Trancus Canyon, at
• 2:07:51
  the mouth of which lies a small brackish lagoon. Here I found a good
• 2:07:58
  camping place under a tent like sycamore orioles supplied my supper with music, and
• 2:08:05
  a night of balmy airs with the drowsy rumble of breakers not one hundred yards
• 2:08:09
  away, rounded off a highly pleasant day. The first sound of the morning
• 2:08:16
  was the wild cry of gulls as they quarreled over breakfast. As I ate
• 2:08:24
  my solitary flapjacks, I was half inclined to wish that it had been possible
• 2:08:28
  for me also to quarrel with somebody. But the presence of Chino grazing hard
• 2:08:35
  by allayed the loneliness for me, as I hope mine did for him.
• 2:08:41
  We were early on our march, following the shore under a bright morning sun.
• 2:08:48
  I could see a few miles out a white steamer making eastward, and
• 2:08:52
  waved my good morning to the passengers, who I took for granted, were
• 2:08:58
  gazing toward me thon, not exactly at me, from over the side.
• 2:09:03
  The road lay alternately along the beach and the cliff, where yuckers bloomed plentifully
• 2:09:09
  among the brush. Those white banoosed arabs looked out of the place, standing
• 2:09:16
  here and there within a stone's throw of the ocean, and their exotic scent
• 2:09:20
  mingled strangely with the sharp tang of seaweed. Now we pushed through thickets of
• 2:09:26
  head high mustard that dusted us with yellow. Next, sunflowers stared at us
• 2:09:33
  eye to eye, and again lavender sage refreshed us with fugitive dashes of perfume.
• 2:09:41
  The rattle of machinery came faintly to me, and I could see the
• 2:09:46
  moa and his team creeping along high up on the hillside a mile away.
• 2:09:54
  It was far too heavenly a day for one to be in a hurry,
• 2:09:56
  and I dismounted and removed chin nose bridle, leaving him at liberty to saunter
• 2:10:03
  and graze while I sauntered and praised. Only here and there a thump of
• 2:10:09
  thorny cactus obtruded a suggestion of evil. I suppose that cactus may have been
• 2:10:16
  unknown before the fall. One of the compensations to be set against the lack
• 2:10:22
  of a companion was that I was free to stop or proceed, hurry or
• 2:10:28
  delay, camp here or there entirely at my own choice, only having regard
• 2:10:33
  for my horse's needs as to forage. So, when early in the afternoon
• 2:10:39
  I came to an attractive little stream that ran in a deep canyon, filled
• 2:10:45
  with sycamores and wind blown oaks. I paused and considered. The brook chattered
• 2:10:52
  happily over the rocks of the beach until it met the sea, like the
• 2:10:56
  sudden cutting off of the life of a child. Close by, it was
• 2:11:01
  a triangle of clean sand, littered with drift wood, and near at hand
• 2:11:07
  there was a space of good fodder. It is not always that things arranged
• 2:11:13
  themselves so propitiously. I could make camp not twenty yards from the very verge
• 2:11:18
  of the ocean. The opportunity was not to be missed. I got my
• 2:11:24
  little tent pitched in spite of a strong breeze, which showered me with flying
• 2:11:28
  sand, and then spent a lazy afternoon in the society of the gulls,
• 2:11:33
  my loquacious little brook, and the indolent roar of breakers. The wind increased
• 2:11:41
  during the evening to a point that made a camp fire something more than a
• 2:11:45
  luxury. So I started a noble blaze and humbly emulated the poet with his
• 2:11:52
  fire of driftwood. I found, too, that my little shelter, like
• 2:11:56
  his farm house old, gave to the sea breeze, damp and cold,
• 2:12:03
  an easy entrance sand makes one of the least desirable of sleeping places, and
• 2:12:11
  all night I was consciously or subconsciously aware of the thunder of the waves close
• 2:12:16
  by. Once or twice I heard the spray rattling like hail on the tent,
• 2:12:22
  or the hiss of the sea froth as it washed far up on the
• 2:12:26
  beach then sank away into the sand. I had picketed Chino in a more
• 2:12:33
  sheltered spot fifty yards away, and blanketed warmly. I think he passed the
• 2:12:39
  night quite as comfortably as his master. I was up at four o'clock and
• 2:12:46
  broke camp early. The breeze was strong and keen, and an inexhaustible freshness
• 2:12:52
  was in the air, as if the world had been created within the week.
• 2:12:58
  Gulls and pelicans were fishing, and on the horizon two faint smudges marked
• 2:13:03
  where steamers were passing. After a few miles more of alternate shore and cliff,
• 2:13:11
  we crossed the line into Ventura County, and at the same time bad
• 2:13:16
  adieu to the Malibu and its cantankerous but futile placards. End of chapter five,
• 2:13:26
  Chapter six, an inland trail, Strange country downs and combs, Bony
• 2:13:35
  mountain, Friendly Mexicans again. Sycamore Canyon, Sunday in camp A night disturbance,
• 2:13:46
  Oak Glades, the Santa Barbara Channel, islands in view, the resting
• 2:13:52
  place of Cabrio, one Army, A moribund town, Oxnard, the hated
• 2:14:01
  rival, an embarrassing companion, Ventura, its mission, San Buenaventura, nasturtiums
• 2:14:13
  and simplicity. The broken country which had lain to the north of the road
• 2:14:20
  began now to come down to the shore, and the road soon struck inland
• 2:14:26
  up little Sycamore Canyon. I studied the coast beyond, with a view to
• 2:14:33
  traveling by the beach if possible. A high bluff coast, much broken,
• 2:14:39
  ran for a few miles to the northwest, culminating in the fine headland of
• 2:14:45
  Laguna Peak, which rises in striking profile to a height of fourteen hundred feet.
• 2:14:52
  The cliffs rose high and steep from water's edge, and I knew moreover
• 2:14:58
  that just beyond lay the Mugoo Lagoon and a long stretch of sea level sand
• 2:15:05
  and marshland, where it would be difficult, if not impossible, to travel
• 2:15:09
  on horseback. So I turned into the canyon to find a trail by which
• 2:15:15
  I might cross the mountains and come down into the valley of the Santa Clara.
• 2:15:22
  The canyon was pleasant, with shade of oak and sycamore, and vocal,
• 2:15:28
  with murmur of stream and sprightly voices of many birds. It soon narrowed
• 2:15:35
  to a defile, and the road came to an abrupt end, but no
• 2:15:39
  sign of trail appeared. I felt sure there must be a route across this
• 2:15:46
  narrow belt of mountains, and I knew also that it could be, but
• 2:15:50
  little traveled. After half an hour of search, I found fate indications of
• 2:15:56
  a trail leading off to the west. With some misgivings, I turned into
• 2:16:03
  it, hauling my reluctant companion up a steep mountain side slippery with short,
• 2:16:09
  dry grass. The track was hardly discernible and was so confused with cattle piles
• 2:16:18
  that I was often in doubt whether I was on it or off. The
• 2:16:22
  hillside was hot and shadeless, and as we panted and perspired up the ascent,
• 2:16:28
  we both, I think, wished ourselves trespassers again on the Malibu,
• 2:16:35
  with its fresh shore breezes and plentiful cool streams. For two hours we toiled
• 2:16:43
  on and up, with frequent stops for breath, and on my part admiration.
• 2:16:50
  The country was strange and un Californian. In all my wanderings through this
• 2:16:56
  varied state, I had seen no other region of this kind. It reminded
• 2:17:03
  me constantly of the downs of southern England, only that the hills were higher
• 2:17:07
  and steeper. The short, soddid grass may well have been the wise turf
• 2:17:13
  of Kipling, Sussex, but for the castilius azulias and yellow poppies which thinly
• 2:17:20
  sprinkled it, and occasional yukas shooting up from the small islands of brush.
• 2:17:28
  Now and then a distant glimpse of ocean far below confirmed the resemblance or some
• 2:17:35
  deeply cut canyon carried the mind a little farther afield to the combs of Dorset
• 2:17:43
  or Devon. When the trail had climbed to a height of fifteen hundred feet,
• 2:17:48
  there opened a still more striking landscape. Nearby. To the north rose
• 2:17:54
  the fine shape of Bony Mountain, its highest cray hidden in dragging mists,
• 2:18:03
  and far in the distance a high blue range marked the Topper Topper and Pine
• 2:18:09
  mountain country beyond the Santa Clara River more to the west, blue with summer
• 2:18:16
  haze. The wide valley stretched away to the Pacific, and between lay the
• 2:18:22
  expanse of rough, brushy hills through which I have to find a way.
• 2:18:30
  It was getting toward evening, when still following at best I could the elusive
• 2:18:35
  trail, I noticed on the hillside a little fenced pasture in which three horses
• 2:18:39
  were grazing. Evidently there was a farm nearby, and going over to investigate,
• 2:18:48
  I saw some cultivated land lying in a narrow valley not far from one
• 2:18:52
  thousand feet almost perpendicularly below. As the trail seemed to bear away from the
• 2:19:00
  place, I abandoned it, and, leading Chino, made the best of
• 2:19:05
  my way down to the valley. At the bottom I found a small stream,
• 2:19:13
  and both of us, being pretty well tired out, I deferred visiting
• 2:19:16
  the ranch until the morning and made camp for the night. Half an hour
• 2:19:22
  next morning brought us to the ranch from the chorus of dogs, which hailed
• 2:19:28
  our approach. I guessed the owners to be Mexicans, though the land showed
• 2:19:33
  more careful farming than those people of the non strenuous life usually attempt. I
• 2:19:41
  was right under a shady live oak. I found a handsome old Mexican who
• 2:19:48
  was smearing with butter a number of little Spanish cheeses, more of which were
• 2:19:54
  drying on a platform built among the branches of the oak tree overhead. The
• 2:20:00
  old man was very deaf, and it required all my Spanish and my breath
• 2:20:05
  to introduce myself and explain my presence, which plainly surprised him. In reply,
• 2:20:13
  I learned that he was the owner of the place, Hajesus Serrano by
• 2:20:18
  name, and I was invited to tie up my horse and rest the old
• 2:20:22
  gentleman, insisting that I'd take his chair while he made shift with a saw
• 2:20:28
  buck. A young man leading a saddled horse now appeared, introduced himself as
• 2:20:35
  Francisco Serrano, and subsided on the ground for a chat. When they heard
• 2:20:41
  that I had camped so near them, they asked why I had not come
• 2:20:46
  to the ranch and stayed with them for the night, saying they had plenty
• 2:20:50
  of room and hay. I found later that the plentiful horse room consisted of
• 2:20:56
  two small cabins, each containing a single bed, and I have little doubt
• 2:21:01
  that either of them would, as a matter of course, have slept on
• 2:21:05
  the bare floor in order to accommodate an entire stranger. Such is the instinctive
• 2:21:13
  kindness of these people, whom it is the fashion to condemn for the lack
• 2:21:18
  of some far less excellent virtues. I passed a very pleasant hour with them,
• 2:21:24
  and when I rose to go, the sun offered to put me on
• 2:21:28
  a cutoff trail that would save me some miles. The old gentleman presented me
• 2:21:35
  with one of his cheeses, explaining that I must eat it with chili,
• 2:21:39
  and should find it good for the health. Francisco slung a rifle to his
• 2:21:45
  saddle, and escorted by half a dozen eager dogs, we rode away.
• 2:21:50
  The trail was down the canyon and mainly in the bed of the stream.
• 2:21:54
  My guide splashed and clattered ahead, pointing out here and there the scene of
• 2:22:00
  some episode of wild cat, coyote, or mountain lion. He had an
• 2:22:05
  eye for the flowers, too, and often drew my attention to some clump
• 2:22:11
  of fragrant sea and othus, or wild rose, or bush of toyone,
• 2:22:16
  the Christmas holly of California at that season in full summer glory of white.
• 2:22:24
  When he put me well on my way, my companion bade me good bye
• 2:22:28
  and turned back. I was soon in the main Sycamore canyon. The road
• 2:22:35
  marked on my map was nothing more than a fair trail, and I doubt
• 2:22:41
  where the wagon had ever passed that way. A good stream rang among the
• 2:22:46
  boulders, and there was pasturage in plenty, So though it was still early,
• 2:22:52
  I resolved to camp and devote the remainder of the day to the cooking
• 2:22:56
  of beans that invaluable of the western traveler. The next day, also being
• 2:23:05
  Sunday, I passed in camp with Chino's full concurrence. Now and again a
• 2:23:11
  few cattles strayed by, but otherwids the solitude was unbroken. At night,
• 2:23:18
  an alarm was caused by some nocturnal visitor. Chino, who was staked nearby
• 2:23:24
  where I slept, awoke me by snorting and rearing. In great excitement.
• 2:23:31
  I got into my boots and made a circuit of the camp with my revolver,
• 2:23:35
  but was unable to find the cause of the disturbance, probably a roamy
• 2:23:41
  wildcat or mountain lion. Such incidents are annoying, and hereafter at night I
• 2:23:48
  kept my revolver handy in my bootleg close to my head. Morning brought in
• 2:23:56
  one of those particularly perfect days that remained in one memory, like the special
• 2:24:01
  incidents of childhood on one's best catch of trout. The sky was softly clouded,
• 2:24:09
  the air moist and gentle, and the trees wore that half smiling,
• 2:24:15
  half pensive look that makes one wonder if they have not some faculty of enjoyment
• 2:24:20
  or even remembrance. We moved leisurely along under a leafy screen of oaks,
• 2:24:28
  whose black stems leaned in pictorial attitude across softly lighted vistas of open canyon.
• 2:24:37
  Birds flitted quietly about, unhurried, like us, against the skyline of the
• 2:24:46
  high smooth hills. Tiny cattle were placidly grazing here and there. A wet
• 2:24:52
  sycamore showed conspicuously among the oaks, whose rounded tops balanced with Spanish mass,
• 2:25:00
  cast a tragic darkness over the brook. The creek lay in pools, its
• 2:25:07
  quietude deepening the dreaminess of the scene and the morning. It was one of
• 2:25:13
  those days when one expects something fine and unusual to happen, a storm,
• 2:25:20
  for instance, though at this season that would have been out of the question
• 2:25:26
  if it had been a few centuries earlier. And in Europe instead of America,
• 2:25:31
  Sir Tristram de something might have come riding along one of those green bound
• 2:25:35
  on some errand of joyous peril. With this in mind, a glance at
• 2:25:41
  Chino, with his panoply of comfortable saddle bags and blankets was almost comic.
• 2:25:50
  The trail, which had risen gradually, now crossed a divide between two high
• 2:25:56
  grassed hills, and I looked out upon the open valley, checkered in dark
• 2:26:01
  greens of beets and pale golds of stubble. Running level to the sea.
• 2:26:05
  Six or eight miles away, fifteen or twenty miles out to the west lay
• 2:26:11
  a group of rocky islands, the nearest one and odd conglomeration of spikes and
• 2:26:18
  splinters, the others, more formal in outline, they were the Santa Barbara
• 2:26:24
  Channel Islands, Ana Cappa, Santa Cruz, Santa Rosa, and San Miguel.
• 2:26:33
  Some are on. The last named, which is the most westerly,
• 2:26:37
  is the resting place of the brave navigator Juan Roriguez Cabrio, who, only
• 2:26:45
  fifty years after Columbus's epoch making voyage, coasted far up the Californias to die
• 2:26:52
  as he was returning on this lonely outpost of the wonderful New world. With
• 2:27:00
  a backward glance of the fine shape of bony mountain, his crag still attractively
• 2:27:05
  shrouded in a mystery of cloud, I started down the steep descent. The
• 2:27:13
  trail soon broadened to a wagon road, and before long I rode out on
• 2:27:18
  the rich farming land of the Guadalaska Ranch. To this succeeded a long,
• 2:27:26
  straight country road, bordered by prosperous fields of beans and beets, the staples
• 2:27:31
  of the country. And in due time we entered the sleepy little coast village
• 2:27:37
  of One Army, where I put up my horse at the decaying livery stable,
• 2:27:43
  and found clean and simple quarters for myself at the village inn. One
• 2:27:50
  Armie is the ghost of a once flourishing town. On its one business street,
• 2:27:58
  the vacant stores, with their hopeless signs of to rent, stand ranked
• 2:28:03
  in shabby idleness like a row of blind beggars. Not very many years ago
• 2:28:11
  this was a lively little port, but a beech sugar factory sprang into existence
• 2:28:18
  a few miles to the north, and that, with its joint advantage of
• 2:28:22
  a railway, was too much for one army. The greater part of the
• 2:28:26
  population, and not a few of the houses themselves made off bodily to the
• 2:28:31
  new center, and left one army nothing to boast of but its smooth,
• 2:28:37
  clean beach and its busy past, during which, as a gloomy citizen assured
• 2:28:43
  me, the place had been the scene of as much traffic as any other
• 2:28:48
  two blamed towns of the county. Now only one small coasting steamer calls at
• 2:28:56
  long intervals, and occasionally a lumber schooner puts in with its fragrant load from
• 2:29:03
  the northern forests, while a stage carries scanty mails and infrequent passengers over to
• 2:29:11
  the railway at Oxnard, the hated rival. Still, the place has an
• 2:29:18
  air of restfulness which is pleasant, even though it be involuntary. And moreover,
• 2:29:24
  it has a lighthouse, a modest wooden building, but like all lighthouses,
• 2:29:31
  a fascinating object. As I stood on the shore in the dusk and
• 2:29:35
  watched the steady beam of light streaming out over the gray wash of the ocean,
• 2:29:41
  there seemed something godlike in its kindly vigilance. All night it shone into
• 2:29:48
  the little room where I slept, throwing its moonlight gleam every few seconds upon
• 2:29:54
  the white wall beside my bed. The next day was on holiday, a
• 2:30:01
  decoration day, I think, and the Wanamians throwing hair away were earlier stir
• 2:30:07
  and off on a picnic. When I went to the stable facino, I
• 2:30:13
  found him and the stable cat in solitary possession. I saddled up and rode
• 2:30:20
  on toward Oxnard, taking the main road due north instead of trying to keep
• 2:30:26
  to the coast, having been warned of possible trouble with quicksand if I should
• 2:30:31
  try to ford the Santa Clara River. Oxnard was also on holiday, and
• 2:30:39
  all the stores were closed, except those of the indefatigable Orientals, and fortunately
• 2:30:46
  that of an Armenian shoemaker whose services I required. A Japanese girl in kimono
• 2:30:54
  and slippers were sitting on the seal of a doorway that opened on and up
• 2:30:58
  a verandah, daintily smoking a gilded porcelain pipe. Riding on towards Ventura after
• 2:31:07
  a short stay, I was overtaken by a young Oxnardian in a buggy,
• 2:31:13
  whose curiosity over my outfit led him to check his speed and enter into conversation.
• 2:31:20
  I was glad of company, and we rode a few miles side by
• 2:31:22
  side. At the village of El Rio, he begged me to look after
• 2:31:28
  his horse for a moment and vanished round the corner. Twenty minutes passed without
• 2:31:35
  his returning, and I was just starting in search when I saw him approaching
• 2:31:39
  with a peculiar smile and gait, and an armful of bottled beer. As
• 2:31:46
  his horse was a spirited one and the man himself was half intoxicated, it
• 2:31:52
  seemed necessary for some one to keep an eye on him in the interests of
• 2:31:56
  public safety. I resisted his pressing invitation to get in and drive with him,
• 2:32:03
  but kept alongside and awaited developments. They came quickly as he emptied the
• 2:32:09
  bottles at a lively rate, but he obligingly took no offense at my refusing
• 2:32:16
  to share them with him. His driving soon became erratic, and when he
• 2:32:22
  had twice narrowly escaped driving into the ditch and once into an automobile, I
• 2:32:28
  proposed that he let me take the lines and drive him into Ventura, his
• 2:32:31
  destination. Rather to my surprise, he agreed to this, but only he
• 2:32:37
  was good enough to say because he considered me in the light of a close
• 2:32:41
  friend, for no one but him had ever driven Ginger. I tied Chino
• 2:32:48
  behind the buggy and got in, and before long he was sufficiently lost to
• 2:32:54
  his interests to allow my dropping the remaining bottles overboard as we the river,
• 2:33:01
  and I was at liberty to enjoy the evening beauty of shadow on the mountains
• 2:33:05
  nearby to the north, while he slumbered peacefully at my side. When we
• 2:33:13
  arrived on the outskirts of Ventura, I stopped, shook my companion with some
• 2:33:18
  violence, and asked him whether he thought he was capable of driving. He
• 2:33:24
  replied with indignation that he had been driving all the time, and that I
• 2:33:28
  must not think that I could guide him, but ended by declaring that I
• 2:33:33
  was a good fellow, and giving me the name of a hotel in town,
• 2:33:37
  where the knowing ones among the boys put up, and to which the
• 2:33:41
  mention of his name would procure me admission. As he seemed really pretty sober,
• 2:33:48
  I thought he might be trusted to escape trouble, so, declining an
• 2:33:52
  urgent invitation to drink out of an empty bottle, I bade him goodbye and
• 2:33:58
  struck into town by crossroad. Ventura is a modest little city of some three
• 2:34:05
  thousand people. Though it is the county seat of a prosperous county, it
• 2:34:11
  has never seriously attempted to compete with the other cities of the south for pre
• 2:34:15
  eminence, nor any eminence at all, except that of natural attractions and steady,
• 2:34:22
  well ordered progress. The people who live in its pretty cottages enjoy on
• 2:34:28
  the whole, as I judge, the continual feast of a contented mind speaking
• 2:34:35
  well of their city, but without that undue fan finade, which, like
• 2:34:39
  the voluble wilds of a street for kiir, does but warn the judicious of
• 2:34:46
  danger. Its situation certainly is super excellent, by the shore of a summary
• 2:34:52
  sea, and yet at the very foot of picturesque mountains, which at this
• 2:34:58
  season was dusted over with the gold of the wild mustard, a fine stream
• 2:35:05
  flows into the sea at the western edge of the city, and from May
• 2:35:09
  to October the breakfast tables of Ventura need never go troutless. The place has
• 2:35:18
  some little historic attraction, too, for here, in seventeen eighty two was
• 2:35:24
  founded the mission of that comfortable sounding Saint Boyin of Ventura. It was not
• 2:35:31
  one of the handsomest of the missions, but it was never allowed to fall
• 2:35:35
  into disrepair, and now provides a dignified and interesting place of workship for the
• 2:35:43
  Catholics of Ventura. In the neat garden of the priest's house, which adjoins
• 2:35:48
  the mission, are a few ancient fruit trees, among them a solemn old
• 2:35:54
  fig which may well have witnessed the prosperity of ante secular lorization days. I
• 2:36:03
  took it as another token of the pleasant quality of the Venturans that the unpretending
• 2:36:09
  nasturtium seemed to be the popular flower. Banks and hedges of them greeted the
• 2:36:15
  eye everywhere, and banners of gay blossoms hung over the low sea cliff from
• 2:36:20
  the gardens that ran to its edge. I think that Flora was in one
• 2:36:28
  of her happiest moods when she invented this sprightly flower. And wherever I see
• 2:36:33
  nasturtiums in the garden, I argue smiles and sweet simplicity in the house.
• 2:36:45
  End of chapter six, Chapter seven fording the Ventura River tramps in clover hospitality,
• 2:36:54
  unfailing Carpenteria origins of Spanish place names, a huge grapevine, summer land,
• 2:37:05
  oil wells in tidewater Montecito and millionaires Santa Barbara, as Dana saw it,
• 2:37:13
  and today the mission a link with the past, the de la Gera
• 2:37:20
  Mansion Santa Barbara of the far future. From Ventura, the coast takes a
• 2:37:30
  northwesterly sweep, the mountains now pressing closely down to the shore. There are
• 2:37:35
  two roads from here to Santa Barbara, the inland one preferred by automobilists,
• 2:37:41
  which crosses the mountains by the Casitas Pass, and another, more to my
• 2:37:46
  mind, which follows the coast in company with the railway. The bridge over
• 2:37:52
  the Ventura River had been demolished by the floods of the previous winter, and
• 2:37:56
  the ford was rather too wide and deep vir Gino's peace of mind. When
• 2:38:01
  in midstream, he became nervous, finding the water touching his belly, and
• 2:38:07
  proposed to turn back. But I had seen another horseman cross the day before
• 2:38:11
  and knew we would get through, so punching him industriously with my heel,
• 2:38:18
  I got him over, though not without getting both saddle bags and boots water
• 2:38:24
  logged. All day, we traveled an attractive coast while I let the monotone
• 2:38:30
  of the surf lull me into a mood of reverie. Houses were few,
• 2:38:35
  and hour after hour passed without sight of other travelers. Occasionally a train whirled
• 2:38:43
  by, breaking the indolent summer quiet with a clatter of wheels and rhythmic clangor
• 2:38:48
  of bell. By now we've been passed several times since starting by regular trains,
• 2:38:56
  and the trainmen began to toot whistles and wave friendly hands to us as
• 2:39:01
  they flashed by. Numerous canyons led back into a maze of rough, though
• 2:39:07
  not high, mountains, which culminated some miles to the north in the long
• 2:39:11
  ridge of the Santa Ynez Range, and at longer intervals capes ran seaward,
• 2:39:18
  shutting off the view of the farther coast and providing constant material for curiosity and
• 2:39:24
  imagination. Now and then a distant vessel drew my gaze and raised a lazy
• 2:39:31
  speculation whether its freight were lumber, oil, or humanity, and whether it
• 2:39:37
  was bound to a nearby port or some romantic voyage to say, near Valparaiso
• 2:39:43
  or Zanzibar. The Channel islands, looming faintly in southern haze, were no
• 2:39:50
  less interesting for the opposite reason, namely, on the score of their being
• 2:39:54
  almost uninhabited. Just beyond the promontory of Punta Gorda was a tiny village lying
• 2:40:01
  a little off the road. A little trio of tramps were sitting about a
• 2:40:07
  fire, over which steamed a sooty coffee pot. A lordly stake reposed on
• 2:40:13
  a newspaper, awaiting its turn, together with onions and half a loaf of
• 2:40:18
  bread. I wondered whether the villagers could have paid such a heavy assessment.
• 2:40:24
  Willingly mid afternoon found us at Ringcon Point. A homelike farm, shady with
• 2:40:33
  palms and olives, occupies the level land of the point, and at Ringcon
• 2:40:37
  Creek marks the boundary of Ventura and Santa Barbara Counties. It seemed an auditious
• 2:40:45
  spot for a camp, so I boldly entered an open gate of the farm
• 2:40:50
  fence and found an inviting nook among the trees beside the stream. There were
• 2:40:56
  one or two trappedy looking pools near by, and I spent a profitable hour
• 2:41:01
  with my fly rod. As I sat by my evening fire, tracing Chino's
• 2:41:07
  wanderings on the hill side above by the jingle of his bell, I received
• 2:41:13
  a visit from the owner of the farm. My apologies for trespassing were at
• 2:41:18
  once discounted by his friendly manner, as he dismounted for a chat, remarking
• 2:41:22
  that I ought to have come and put up at the house. I may
• 2:41:28
  say here that in the whole course of the trip I found the milk of
• 2:41:31
  human kindness. All was flowing, plentiful and rich whenever I had occasion to
• 2:41:39
  draw upon it. The road here leaves the shore, and for a few
• 2:41:43
  miles lies through a fine farming country, stretching back to where the center in
• 2:41:48
  his mountains rise abruptly to nearly four thousand feet. It would be hard to
• 2:41:54
  imagine a more desirable location for a farming life than the belt of richest soil,
• 2:42:01
  backed by opaline mountains and fronted by the calmest of seas. Here and
• 2:42:09
  there, a clump of feathery eucalyptus, or a rank of somber cyprus,
• 2:42:13
  marked the place of a farm and supplied the one element that nature had omitted
• 2:42:18
  from an otherwise perfect landscape. To this succeeded the lemon and orange groves of
• 2:42:26
  Carpeteria, an old and small but pretty settlement, or rather two settlements,
• 2:42:33
  the old Spanish and decrepid and the New American and thriving. If report speaks
• 2:42:41
  the truth, the prosperity of one local landowner was gained by methods which entitle
• 2:42:46
  him to the special contempt not only of his defrauded Mexican neighbours, but of
• 2:42:52
  all persons whose sympathies go with one Naboth. In a well known incident of
• 2:42:58
  Israelitish history, the name of this village offers an example of the manner in
• 2:43:05
  which a great number of places in the state come by their titles. This
• 2:43:09
  and many other points on the coast were named by members of the expedition of
• 2:43:15
  which father Polou was the historian, which passed up the coast by land from
• 2:43:20
  San Diego to Monterey in the year seventeen sixty nine. At this spot,
• 2:43:28
  some Indians were found engaged in building a canoe, and from that circumstance the
• 2:43:33
  soldiers of the party named the place for the Spanish word for a carpenter's shop.
• 2:43:41
  Similarly, from nothing more important than the killing of a gull, a
• 2:43:46
  point a few miles to the west was named Gaviota. That the clergy also
• 2:43:52
  took their full share in the work of bestowing titles is plain enough from the
• 2:43:56
  generous manner in which the Saints were remembered. I have heard of a celebrated
• 2:44:03
  grapevine hereabouts which proclaims itself the goliath of its kind. I turned aside to
• 2:44:09
  see it and found the monster in an enclosure behind a little house which stands
• 2:44:16
  on the side of a vanished adobe. When I viewed the enormous trunk,
• 2:44:22
  nearly ten feet in girth, I could easily credit its claim as to size,
• 2:44:28
  and to the statement of its owner that it bore from six to twelve
• 2:44:33
  tons of fruit yearly. The limbs, one of which I measured and found
• 2:44:39
  it three and a half feet around, cover a space one hundred feet square,
• 2:44:46
  and are supported on a framework of massive timbers. There is a legend
• 2:44:52
  that it dates from the year eighteen hundred and nine, the birth year of
• 2:44:56
  so many great men. But be that as it may, it shows no
• 2:45:01
  sign of decay and should be good for many a decade. In proof of
• 2:45:05
  one tall California story, at least, I bought a bottle of juice made
• 2:45:11
  from its grapes and ate my lunch under the ample shade. Looking I was
• 2:45:16
  aware, like a sort of modern and commonplace sillinus from the increasing number of
• 2:45:24
  automobiles that bequeathed us their superfluous dust and odors. I knew that we were
• 2:45:30
  nearing Santa Barbara. We were, in fact already within the limits of the
• 2:45:35
  generous grant of lands which belonged of old to the Spanish Pueblo. A few
• 2:45:41
  miles brought us to summer Land, where a number of black and oily derricks
• 2:45:46
  built on wharves were robbing Neptune of a long unsuspected asset. The place,
• 2:45:54
  which was originally a spiritualist colony, now resounds with the creek and groan of
• 2:45:58
  pump plants, and at night, might I should think be the congenial rendezvous
• 2:46:05
  for ghosts. On the right now appeared the wooded slopes of Montecito, a
• 2:46:11
  lovely expanse of rolling country sacred to millionaires. A green canyon of oaks and
• 2:46:20
  sycamores suggested thoughts of camping, but there was something almost sacrilegious in the idea,
• 2:46:26
  and I hastened on. Oak shaded villas gave place to acres of sweet
• 2:46:33
  peas and trim orchards of walnut and orange, and beyond ran the dreamy blue
• 2:46:39
  mountains with the peak of La cumbre overlooking all. Soon the dust of the
• 2:46:46
  road was exchanged for asphalt, and gay parties of Barbaranos appeared in automobiles and
• 2:46:54
  on horseback in quest of appetites for dinner. By early evening I rode into
• 2:47:00
  Santa Barbara, and for a day or two we went into the city quarters.
• 2:47:05
  When in eighteen hundred and thirty five Dana sailed into Santa Barbara Bay on
• 2:47:11
  the pilgrim, he found, to quote his own words, the large bay
• 2:47:16
  without a vessel in it, the surf roaring and rolling in upon the beach,
• 2:47:22
  the white mission, the dark town, and the high treeless mountains.
• 2:47:30
  The three quarters of a century that has elapsed since that time has been highly
• 2:47:33
  eventful to California as a whole. But as usual, the caprices of fortune
• 2:47:39
  have had their effect. Santa Barbara, then, and notwithstanding the poor impression
• 2:47:46
  Dana received of it, was the place of second importance in the Californias,
• 2:47:52
  outranked only by Monterey. The capital, San Francisco, was a nearly begun
• 2:47:58
  settlement of Yankee Californias called Yerbabuena, which promises well. And Los Angeles,
• 2:48:07
  though then the largest town in California, could hardly have dreamed with her interior
• 2:48:13
  position of contesting for the southern supremacy with the better placed settlements on the coast.
• 2:48:20
  The modern city of Santa Barbara is a place of about twelve thousand people,
• 2:48:26
  which, wisely following the lines of least resistance, has attained a fame
• 2:48:31
  of its own as a particularly delightful place of residence. Its climate, mild,
• 2:48:37
  equable and the reverse of stimulating, is just suited to the enjoyment of
• 2:48:43
  its attractions of coast and mountain scenery, and tourists who nowadays with extensive view
• 2:48:50
  survey mankind from China to Peru naturally have not overlooked Santa Barbara. Two giant
• 2:49:00
  hotels provide the superlative of comfort for the wealthy traveler, and streets of pretty
• 2:49:05
  flowers in flower crammed gardens are inhabited by fugitives from blizzard stricken states in east
• 2:49:13
  and north. There are not many traces, except in the names of several
• 2:49:20
  of the streets of the older Santa Barbara, of what remains of it.
• 2:49:24
  The mission stands first in interest. It dates from seventeen eighty six and standing
• 2:49:31
  on the high ground at the rear of the city, the gray old building,
• 2:49:35
  browsing in the sun, with its red tiled corridors and twin domed belfries,
• 2:49:41
  sheds an air of Spanish languor of perpetual siesta over the city. While
• 2:49:50
  I sat on a bench beside a fountain in the open space before the mission,
• 2:49:54
  I heard the patter of naked feet beside me, and at turning so
• 2:50:00
  or the arch face of a Mexican boy of seven or eight years only a
• 2:50:03
  few paces away. He had noticed my camera and was skirmishing in hope of
• 2:50:11
  some interesting photographic incident, but was ready for flight at a moment's notice.
• 2:50:16
  When I spoke to him, he came and talked frankly, telling me his
• 2:50:20
  name, Jose, and those of his father and a considerable array of brothers
• 2:50:26
  and sisters. The surname was that of one of the soldiers who formed the
• 2:50:31
  escort of Padre la Siune at the time of the founding of the mission,
• 2:50:37
  and as it was an unusual name, I had little doubt that this curly
• 2:50:41
  pated youngster was one link of a chain which, if I could trace it
• 2:50:46
  would lead back to that event, one of some importance in the history of
• 2:50:50
  the state. The mission possesses a great collection of the material of California history.
• 2:50:58
  In the libel of the building, I found the genial and scholarly father
• 2:51:03
  Zephyryn Engelhart, deep in learned labours over his great history of the Franciscan missions,
• 2:51:11
  now issuing from the press. It is a worthy task, and Protestants
• 2:51:16
  as well as Catholics may well regard with respect the work of Father Sarah and
• 2:51:22
  his helpers on these shores, which a century and a quarter ago were more
• 2:51:28
  remote and savage than Central Africa is today. On a quiet side street,
• 2:51:35
  I found another remnant of Santa Barbara's historic past, the old mansion of the
• 2:51:39
  de la Geras, a family so identified with the city that its history might
• 2:51:46
  almost be said to be their own. Readers may remember that it is the
• 2:51:52
  marriage of one of the daughters of this house, Donia Anita de la Guera
• 2:51:56
  de Noriega Ikarillo, that danadcribes with so much vivacity. The bridegroom was mister
• 2:52:05
  Alfred Robinson, the agent of the owners of the Pilgrim and the Alert.
• 2:52:11
  There is a volume now rare, entitles Life in California by an American written
• 2:52:18
  by this mister Robinson, which gives much very interesting information as to manners and
• 2:52:24
  affairs in California. Within a decade or two before the grand transition from Hydes
• 2:52:28
  and Tallow to Gold, I noticed over the main doorway of the house the
• 2:52:35
  words in quaint lettering Lapa's sayer n estekassa peace be to this house, followed
• 2:52:45
  by the name of the family. There seemed an odd disparity between the sentiment
• 2:52:50
  and the martial name, for de la Guera signifies literally of the war.
• 2:52:58
  I wondered whether the incongruity could have been unnoticed by the old don who had
• 2:53:03
  the words cut there, or whether or not there might have been some particular
• 2:53:07
  occasion for the little joke. I believe it has been found that the western
• 2:53:15
  coast of this continent is slowly rising. If that be so, and the
• 2:53:20
  movement is to go on, and no wholly unthinking change as to arise in
• 2:53:24
  the course of human affairs, why, I wonder, may not this sleepy
• 2:53:28
  city be a far future metropolis of the Western Hemisphere, lying at the head
• 2:53:35
  of a huge bay protected by a great arm of land on which the present
• 2:53:39
  Channel islands would be prominent peaks. But no doubt long before that could come
• 2:53:46
  to pass. Ports, steamships and all the rest of our modern paraphernalia will
• 2:53:52
  be material of very ancient history. And meanwhile, Santa Barbara fulfills her comfortable
• 2:53:58
  destiny dozing among palms and roses beside the bluest of seas. End of Chapter
• 2:54:09
  seven, Chapter eight, Arboreal Strangers, a squawly evening roadside Camp and Company,
• 2:54:18
  and incongruity Church as barn, the village of Naples, the Refugio Pass,
• 2:54:28
  more pleasant Mexicans, Berndito, the Jolly Crossing, the Santa Inez Mountains,
• 2:54:37
  a wonderful landscape wildflowers, and the Madrono los Lomos de la Purificacion,
• 2:54:46
  a land of great oaks. Fording the Santa Innez River, we left Santa
• 2:54:54
  Barbara on a Monday afternoon, both manned and horse rested well. From here
• 2:55:01
  the coast runs almost due westerly for fifty miles two point conception the Elbow,
• 2:55:07
  or as Dana calls it, the Cape Horn of California, where it begins
• 2:55:13
  to blow the first of January and blows all the year round. Here again,
• 2:55:18
  I found it advisable to take the county road a short distance inland for
• 2:55:24
  a few miles to escape some extensive slews that occur in the neighborhood of Galita
• 2:55:28
  Point, and in winter furnished the sportsmen of Santa Barbara with goodly bags of
• 2:55:33
  ducks. A few miles out, at the village of La Paterra, I
• 2:55:39
  was overtaken by a young fellow and horseback, who was leading three other horses.
• 2:55:45
  One of them was a handsome three year old full of fire and nerves,
• 2:55:50
  who danced about in excitement at every automobile that passed, and seemed likely
• 2:55:54
  to drag the rider out of his saddle. I offered to take the halter
• 2:56:00
  ropes of the other two animals, so we rode on together and fell into
• 2:56:03
  conversation. Miles of eucalyptus trees have been planted hereabouts, in groves and along
• 2:56:11
  the waysides, and I learned from my companion that we were passing through the
• 2:56:16
  ranch of mister Elwood Cooper, to whom California is indebted as the pioneer both
• 2:56:22
  of this useful tree and also largely of the olive. One of the attractions
• 2:56:28
  of travel in the state is that so many of its products have a geographical
• 2:56:33
  association with some distant land of origin. It is as pleasant, perhaps even
• 2:56:41
  more so, to encounter constantly some arboreal Australian or Greek, or Persian or
• 2:56:48
  Algerine, as it would be to meet the human representatives of those countries.
• 2:56:54
  When you see a pomegranate, you are likely to think of Solomon and the
• 2:56:58
  Queen of Sheba. And the green bursting figs among their broad dark leaves remind
• 2:57:05
  me of Matthew Arnold's merry Grecian coasters, or the graved Tyrian trader who unbent
• 2:57:13
  sails. There war down cloudy cliffs through sheets of foam. Shy traffickers,
• 2:57:18
  and the dark Iberians come and on the beach undid his corded bales. The
• 2:57:26
  day had been partly cloudy, with a gusty wind and the possibility of a
• 2:57:31
  sprinkle of rain. As we rode down a long avenue of eucalyptus, a
• 2:57:37
  squall of wind came from the west, rushing like something solid down the tunnel
• 2:57:43
  like road and filling the air with dust, twigs, and even sizeable branches.
• 2:57:48
  Following it came a lively spatter of rain, and as it was nearly
• 2:57:54
  evening, the question of a camp became interesting. My companion was for a
• 2:58:00
  ranch in one of the canyons a few miles ahead. My business was to
• 2:58:05
  find the best shelter I could, subjected to Chino's necessaries of water and pasturage.
• 2:58:11
  A mile or two further we came to Ticola Ta Canyon, where a
• 2:58:16
  good stream crossed the road and a broken fence gave access to a triangle of
• 2:58:20
  grass beneath some sycamores. Here I handed the horses over to my friend and
• 2:58:28
  proceeded to such acts of trespass as were necessary to my comfort. My poncho,
• 2:58:35
  stretched between two trees, made a fair wind break for myself, and
• 2:58:39
  Chino was quartered in a sheltered spot among good feed. The rain ceased about
• 2:58:46
  sundown, and I ate supper quite comfortably. Amused by the remarks of two
• 2:58:50
  parties of automobilists who exclaimed that the phenomenon of a tramp reading a book by
• 2:58:56
  candlelight while he ate his of course stolen victuals. As a rule, the
• 2:59:03
  sight of Chino as a part of my belongings gave me a better standing in
• 2:59:07
  the eyes of passers by when my camp was near the road. But this
• 2:59:13
  time he was not in view, and I had to bear all the odium
• 2:59:16
  that justly falls to the man who eats and sleeps by roadsides. A camp
• 2:59:22
  fire here was not practicable, so I turned in early and lay smoking and
• 2:59:28
  listening to a symposium of the owls which have given the canyon its name.
• 2:59:35
  The wind had ceased and a few drops of rain had fallen again as I
• 2:59:39
  was spreading my blankets, so my dispositions were made with a view to a
• 2:59:43
  possible wet night. However, the first thing that came to my eyes when
• 2:59:48
  I awoke after sleeping some hours was the friendly twinkle of stars between the leaves
• 2:59:54
  overhead. I was up at the first sign of dawn and found that during
• 3:00:01
  the night another traveler had arrived and was now sleeping diligently under a tree on
• 3:00:05
  the other side of the creek. He I supposed it was. He was
• 3:00:11
  wrapped in an old red quilt and an antique straw hat covered his face.
• 3:00:18
  A small tin pail lay near by, and his pillow was the sack which
• 3:00:22
  held his remaining effects. I was careful not to wake him by my maneuvers
• 3:00:28
  with the coffee pot, but made an extra allowance of the beverage, and
• 3:00:33
  seeing that he was still sleeping. When I was ready to march, I
• 3:00:37
  quietly crept over and left a pint or two of hot coffee in his pail,
• 3:00:41
  with a whang, as Stephenson would say of bread, a couple of
• 3:00:46
  apples, and part of a can of tobacco alongside. As I was turning
• 3:00:52
  away, it occurred to me to leave my card beside the little legacy,
• 3:00:56
  and to round out the matter, I penciled on the back Whitman's lines Camarado.
• 3:01:03
  Now I see the secret of the making of the best persons. It
• 3:01:07
  is to grow in the open air, and eat and sleep with the earth.
• 3:01:13
  I reckon. My friend had some puzzled moments over his breakfast. It
• 3:01:18
  was a delicious morning. The road passed among rolling hills of freshly cut grain,
• 3:01:26
  broken by frequent canyons, dark with oaks and dotted with notable sycamores.
• 3:01:33
  In one deep canyon, a giant laurel, more than two feet in diameter
• 3:01:37
  of stem, filled the whole air with the stimulating scent of bay, and
• 3:01:43
  everywhere a multitude of aromatic herbs and shrubs diffused sweet or pungent odours. The
• 3:01:52
  purple sea lay to the left at a quarter mile distance, and on the
• 3:01:56
  right the long wall of the Santa Inez Mountains. Supply I had a constant
• 3:02:00
  entertainment of light and color. As we approached the Village of Naples, a
• 3:02:05
  novelty appeared in the landscape in the shape of a square church tower of Norman
• 3:02:11
  style and apparently built of stone. Standing on a hilltop. It was strikingly
• 3:02:18
  visible long before the village, which lies in a hollow, came into view.
• 3:02:24
  I made up my mind that it would turn out to be of cunningly
• 3:02:28
  painted wood or else of plaster. But on a near approach it proved to
• 3:02:33
  be of veritable stone and point device even to the gargoyles. It had an
• 3:02:41
  incongruous look, standing there in a sea of yellow mustard. I was told
• 3:02:46
  that it had been built by a former resident of the locality, and that
• 3:02:50
  its present use was as a storage place for hay. The village of Naples
• 3:02:58
  was a pleasant surprise. From its ambitious name, I expected to see some
• 3:03:03
  spick and span modern resort. I found instead a half score of old,
• 3:03:07
  whitewashed buildings, the cottages smothered in flowers, and the hotel so engagingly simple
• 3:03:13
  and out of date that I longed to be put up there. A brook
• 3:03:20
  runs down to the sea through a verdurious canyon of willows and sycamores, and
• 3:03:24
  the road up the hill beyond was bordered with giant, prickly pears looped with
• 3:03:31
  pink and white convolvulus. The mowers were at work on the hillsides, working
• 3:03:37
  round and round the knolls like barbers. I never felt any special calling to
• 3:03:43
  a farmer's life, yet now I felt that I could be brought to accept
• 3:03:46
  one of these generous, slumbrous, oak shaded estates, with sea and mountains
• 3:03:52
  handy for purpose of recreation. We traveled all the morning through this dreamy landscape.
• 3:04:01
  Houses were few, and the population appeared to be almost nil. The
• 3:04:07
  sea seemed unpopulated too. No sail or streamer of smoke broke the infinite creep
• 3:04:13
  of the water, and the surf half a mile away made only a vague,
• 3:04:18
  wide murmur that filled the air like a thicker kind of sunlight. At
• 3:04:26
  along intervals, I saw a ranch hand or two at work in the fields,
• 3:04:31
  but seldom with inhaling distance. And I passed like the lonely sea bird
• 3:04:37
  with one waft of the wing. A few miles to the north beyond the
• 3:04:43
  ridge of mountains, whose foothills now rose close upon the water's edge was the
• 3:04:46
  mission of Santa Ynez. I wished to see all of these relics of California's
• 3:04:52
  early days that lay near my route, so, finding here a row that
• 3:04:56
  crossed the mountains by way of the Refugio Pass, I struck in land.
• 3:05:03
  A good stream ran down the canyon, and as evening was near, I
• 3:05:07
  kept a watch for a camping place. Barbed wire fences held me to the
• 3:05:13
  road for a mile or two, but at last I came to a path
• 3:05:16
  that led to a lonely schoolhouse. Remembering my rights as a taxpayer, I
• 3:05:22
  entered the gate and found a little distance up stream a good spot under sycamores
• 3:05:28
  with abundant fodder adjacent. I earned my supper from the stream and cooked and
• 3:05:33
  ate it heartlessly on the bank, in plain view of the relatives of the
• 3:05:39
  eton, while doves cooed melodiously and codis raised dole for hymns to the rising
• 3:05:46
  moon. Next morning, I continued up the canyon, which is a winding
• 3:05:52
  and very beautiful one, shaded with oaks and sycamores of the finest. After
• 3:05:58
  a few miles the road leaves the bottom and begins the long climbs of the
• 3:06:03
  ridge. Just where the ascent commences, I found a mountain farm. On
• 3:06:09
  the window of the house was painted the proprietor's name and the word comidas,
• 3:06:15
  signifying meals. The place was rustic and inviting, and I tied Chino to
• 3:06:22
  the gate post and entered. A pleasant Mexican woman with a rollicking baby,
• 3:06:28
  answered my nock, certainly she could cook me a meal, But hey,
• 3:06:33
  seigneur, nothing is there in the house but eggs with bread and coffee.
• 3:06:39
  I wanted nothing better, and seated myself at the table for proof. In
• 3:06:46
  a few minutes she returned with my eggs, deliciously cooked in oil that came
• 3:06:50
  I learned from olive trees on the hillside orchard. Presently, the husband came
• 3:06:56
  in carrying beron Nardito, the jolly, and the sat down for a chat
• 3:07:01
  while I ate. They were both of middle age, but had only been
• 3:07:07
  married a year or two, and it was delightful to see his pride in
• 3:07:11
  her, and their love and enthusiasm for the baby. His admirable qualities,
• 3:07:18
  and he was all admirable, were pointed out carefully to me, and I
• 3:07:22
  was charged to report them, every one to a compatriot of the husbands who
• 3:07:28
  lived in the next county. How strong he was, and how big his
• 3:07:33
  hair, so long for only ten months, his three small teeth with which
• 3:07:37
  already he would bite his father's work, hardened finger, behold as if he
• 3:07:43
  were a little pig, the cheeker, and so on, pouring out their
• 3:07:50
  simple love, in all friendliness altogether. I do not know when I have
• 3:07:56
  more enjoyed a meal than my dish of eggs at that rough plank table.
• 3:08:01
  With these good people. We now took our way up the steep slope.
• 3:08:09
  The mountainside faced the south and had no shade, and the sun was at
• 3:08:13
  its hottest, not so hot, however, as the desert sun of our
• 3:08:18
  previous summer, as I reminded Chino, when we halted for breath as we
• 3:08:24
  climbed, the view opened finally and became constantly more striking. Even in California,
• 3:08:33
  it would not be easy to match that superb panorama. A foreground of
• 3:08:39
  flowery brush fell away steeply into a purple mystery of mountain and canyon. Dreaming
• 3:08:46
  in the wistful haze of summer. At five miles distance, the infinite plane
• 3:08:52
  of sea, shone softly under the southern sun. Far out the islands of
• 3:08:58
  the channel showed like fairy isles, mere shadow shapes of darker tone against the
• 3:09:05
  pallid blue of the horizon. Right and left ran the high, wavering crest
• 3:09:11
  of the Santa Inez, with here and there a sentinel pine, breaking the
• 3:09:16
  ease of the long undulations. On nearing the summit, oaks began to appear,
• 3:09:24
  often surrounded with the lakelets of tender grass. Interesting Toacchino. Here I
• 3:09:31
  found growing freely the lovely globe tulip calacortus albus, a white saint of a
• 3:09:39
  flower, all ethereal gentleness and tranquility, the purest looking blossom I know.
• 3:09:46
  I think a pirate would look at it with reverence. With it grew many
• 3:09:52
  other flowering plants, nemophilias, geraniums, marguerites, brodias, and enemies collinsias,
• 3:10:01
  making little floral sanctuaries among the ruff and thorny world of the brush.
• 3:10:09
  About the past, the oaks became larger, and among them grew a few
• 3:10:13
  beautiful medroonios. This great arbutus is one of the most striking of western trees.
• 3:10:22
  Handsome in leaf, blossom and fruit, and especially noticeable for its smooth
• 3:10:26
  stem of satiny buff or red. The long, gleaming arms make a gallant
• 3:10:33
  appearance amid the somber olive of oak and pine, and with its tassels of
• 3:10:39
  scarlet berries. The tree looked very equal to the part of Captain of the
• 3:10:45
  Western Wood for which brett Hart nominated it. While arrested by a spring,
• 3:10:52
  eating wild strawberries and noting where the deer had lately left their imprints, four
• 3:10:58
  Mexican children came by on their way from school. As they told me their
• 3:11:03
  temple of learning must be of the smallest, for I have seen no house
• 3:11:07
  except one deserted adobe since I left my lunch place. Three hours before crossing
• 3:11:16
  the divide, we turned down the northern face of the through a splendid woodland
• 3:11:20
  of oak, Laurel, Madaronio and maple. A roaring stream Ballard Creek came
• 3:11:28
  in a deep canyon below the road. We marched rapidly down the steep descent.
• 3:11:35
  The sun was setting, and pools of solemn shadow crept in among the
• 3:11:39
  golden hills the Lomas de la Purificacion that opened before me. How beautiful are
• 3:11:48
  these Spanish names. They seemed to throw a cloisterraol, quiet, and a
• 3:11:54
  mythical calm over the wide sunny landscapes. One would think that angels had chosen
• 3:12:01
  them. I found an excellent camping place on a little bench of land above
• 3:12:05
  the stream. The moon was full, with the light of that warm,
• 3:12:11
  almost orange color that one sometimes sees in summer. It was late before I
• 3:12:16
  could bring myself to turn in, and then I lay for a long time,
• 3:12:22
  enjoying a moon bath and watching the swaying panions of Spanish moss that hung
• 3:12:26
  from the great oak overhead. Chino was tethered in a foot high growth of
• 3:12:33
  clover and put me to sleep at last with the rhythm of his molars.
• 3:12:39
  This part of California is pre eminently the land of oaks. My road next
• 3:12:46
  day, following the same canyon, but a few miles farther, passed through
• 3:12:50
  a parklike country where every oak seemed to reach the full magnificence of its type.
• 3:12:58
  The foliage swa held out in exuberance of glossious green, and the convex
• 3:13:03
  of every leaf was burnished like metal. Between the trees, the ground was
• 3:13:09
  covered with heavy headed grasses, and the cattle stood grazing helplessly out over leaves
• 3:13:16
  of waving pasture. The canyon at length opened into the valley of the Santa
• 3:13:22
  Ynez River, which here thirty miles from its mouth, and after two months
• 3:13:28
  of rainless summer, was a small stream twenty yards or so in width,
• 3:13:33
  winding from side to side of a sandy waste in which time of heavy rain
• 3:13:39
  fills to a torrent. I spent an hour in searching for the road,
• 3:13:45
  which my map showed as following the south bank. It had been washed away
• 3:13:50
  in the spring floods, and we made six fords before finding a place where
• 3:13:54
  we could climb the opposite bank. Good luck led me to the spot I
• 3:14:00
  wanted. We scrambled up a thirty foot cliff of crumbling soil, and in
• 3:14:05
  a few minutes I dismounted at the door of the mission. Chapter nine Mission
• 3:14:15
  Santa Inez Mission Hospitality, Quaint Relics, an operatic departure, the Gaviota Pass,
• 3:14:24
  Magnificent oaks and sycamores, The Nohohui Waterfall, sea fogs, a traveling
• 3:14:33
  emporium. Las Crusus, an adventure with quicksand voices of the sea evicted by
• 3:14:45
  the tide, sea birds and a rattlesnake a sunset island add Mission Santa Inez.
• 3:14:56
  To give the name its proper form, I proved to myself one virtue
• 3:15:01
  for which the Catholic Church has always been famed its hospitality to travelers. The
• 3:15:11
  mission is under the charge of Father Alexander Buckler, a whole souled Teuton from
• 3:15:18
  the Lower Rhine. His extensive parish keeps him much on the move, but
• 3:15:24
  luckily for the mission, the father is a man of taste and has chosen
• 3:15:28
  for headquarters this lonely old church, where he is fitted up a suite of
• 3:15:35
  the dusky cell like rooms for his dwelling. I found him among the roses
• 3:15:39
  of the tiled corridor, explained my presence and asked permission to camp for the
• 3:15:46
  night in the meadow near by camp. He echoed, why can't you sleep
• 3:15:50
  in a bed? And straightway led me off to a plainly but comfortably fitted
• 3:15:56
  room and detailed chino to the table and a well filled manger. Then he
• 3:16:03
  was sure I must be hungry, so his housekeeper being away, he ransacked
• 3:16:09
  the larder to find me a meal. Whether I were Catholic, Protestant or
• 3:16:15
  mohammedan Quaker, shaker or superlapsarian, was all one to him. I was
• 3:16:22
  a traveler and guest of Saint Agnes, I must be. I learned that
• 3:16:28
  the room assigned to me had once been the headquarters of the Commandante, when
• 3:16:33
  after the secularization of the mission, one half of the then remaining building had
• 3:16:39
  been taken by the civil authorities and put to use of jail, blacksmith shop,
• 3:16:43
  or whatever purpose it would serve. I'd heard also that in my bed,
• 3:16:50
  an Indian who was murdered a few years ago nearby, had breathed his
• 3:16:54
  last. But no ghost disturbed my sleep, and I awoke next morning to
• 3:17:01
  the strains of the Romance in f played by the Good Father out of compliment,
• 3:17:07
  because I had happened to mention a special liking for Schumann. The Father
• 3:17:11
  is an enthusiast in music. He played the organ when four years of age,
• 3:17:16
  and performed in public at twelve, and often his piano is heard by
• 3:17:22
  the owls of the Santa Ynez at the most abnormal hours. I was able
• 3:17:28
  to be some service to the Father in photographic matters, and spent three days
• 3:17:33
  in his cheerful society lying as this mission does away from the main lines of
• 3:17:39
  travel. It has suffered less than many of its sisters from the vandals,
• 3:17:43
  and is a veritable museum of objects, historical, ecclesiastical and quaint. Here
• 3:17:52
  are rusty little cannon with obsolete muskets, pistols and swords, branding irons that
• 3:18:00
  once marked Saint Agnes's flocks and herds, candlesticks in formidable array, portentous locks
• 3:18:07
  and complicated keys, parchment scores of church music with the old square notes,
• 3:18:15
  antiqued homes of baptisms, marriages and burials adorned with wonderful rubrics and bound in
• 3:18:22
  rawhide, and a host of vessels of ritual and clerical what not. I
• 3:18:30
  was amused at a vast umbrella of yellow silk with which the Paldreys of bygone
• 3:18:35
  days shielded their reverend pates from the sun on their long marches afoot for the
• 3:18:41
  strict Franciscan rule debarred the use of horse or ass. Still more droll was
• 3:18:48
  a little madonna of wood, a foot or so high, with a painfully
• 3:18:52
  commonplace expression of face, but a quizzical look in the eye that was highly
• 3:18:58
  comic. She was dressed in stiff figured damask with a kind of hilarious little
• 3:19:05
  cloak that stood out all about her, and a battered straw hat of one
• 3:19:11
  or two sizes too large. The good Father was not a whit offended at
• 3:19:16
  my mirth over the absurd little figure, and explained that it was the special
• 3:19:20
  pride of his Indian flock. When he removed it once from its place in
• 3:19:26
  the church, where it had stood for many years, they objected strenuously and
• 3:19:31
  would not rest until it was brought back. After all, perhaps one might
• 3:19:37
  better envy than laugh at such admirable simplicity of the building itself. There remains,
• 3:19:45
  as in the case of most missions, only enough to suggest the extent
• 3:19:50
  and beauty of the original structure. Santa Inez suffered an additional disaster when,
• 3:19:56
  in the heavy rains of the spring of nineteen hundred eleven, the bell tower
• 3:20:01
  and several of the buttresses of the church wall suddenly crumbled away and fell in
• 3:20:07
  a chaos of adobees and tiling into the little cemetery. The bells themselves,
• 3:20:15
  all of dates early in the last century, fortunately were unharmed, even to
• 3:20:20
  their huge ornamental caps of sycamore. Through the energy of Father Butler. The
• 3:20:26
  damage has already been repaired and in enduring concrete. At Easter of this year,
• 3:20:35
  a special service ushered in with a great ringing of the bells, was
• 3:20:39
  held to celebrate the event. My departure from Santa Innaes was in the operatic
• 3:20:46
  manner, for I rode away to the imposing strains of the Pilgrim's chorus,
• 3:20:52
  which the father thought an appropriate valedictory. It was a superb morning, with
• 3:20:58
  the highlands of the San Rafel Range to the north glowing like a wall of
• 3:21:03
  opal under a sky of ethereal blue. I now turned again toward the coast,
• 3:21:11
  taking a road which crosses the mountain by the Gaviota Pass, a few
• 3:21:16
  miles west of the one by which I had come. I was more than
• 3:21:20
  ever delighted by the beauty of this region, which, for mile on mile
• 3:21:26
  is a literal park of undulating hill land, decorated with kingly oaks, many
• 3:21:31
  of which must have been full twenty feet in girth of stem. Along the
• 3:21:39
  watercourses grew sycamores commensurate in size, which gave the name of Alisal to this
• 3:21:45
  grant. A mild wind blew from the north, and before it the waves
• 3:21:52
  of shining grass flowed past in rich volume. Doves called, and jays chuckled
• 3:21:58
  from every tree, and quail ran nimbly before us down the road. Chino,
• 3:22:05
  well rested and fortified with hay and grain, was in good fettle and
• 3:22:09
  marched along gaily, noting the green landscape with an approving eye. I have
• 3:22:18
  been told of a pretty waterfall in the Nahohue, a tributary of the Santa
• 3:22:22
  Inez, and turned aside to see it. It is in a deep wooded
• 3:22:28
  canyon half a mile to the south of the road. A straight, perpendicular,
• 3:22:33
  slender drop of about one hundred feet, such as in England would be
• 3:22:37
  called a gill or a force. With its bordering of dripping maidenhair fern,
• 3:22:43
  it makes a charming sight. Nahohui, i have been told, is Indian
• 3:22:50
  for honeymoon, and there is a legend of an Indian brave who honeymooning here
• 3:22:56
  with his bride, was carried over the fall and killed. I never find
• 3:23:03
  that these stories that go with waterfalls, like premiums with magazines, add much
• 3:23:09
  to the beauty of the scene. And moreover, this particular stream is such
• 3:23:13
  a slight affair that one cannot help thinking the brave must have been something of
• 3:23:16
  a duffer. However, as waterfall, the site is pretty enough. We
• 3:23:24
  had traveled so easily that it was close upon sunset when we reached the pass.
• 3:23:31
  Just beyond the summit, I made camp under some oaks in a hollow
• 3:23:35
  where a small stream ran. The forage was unusually good, a thick mat
• 3:23:39
  of burr clover almost a foot high. Gino affectionately rubbed his nose about in
• 3:23:46
  it in sheer joy, and ripped away with sighs of pleasure. I was
• 3:23:52
  not so well provided. The stream was so strong of alkali that the tea
• 3:23:58
  curdled in the book boiling water. The best place I could find for sleeping
• 3:24:03
  slanted unpleasantly, and the south wind brought in such a dense fog from the
• 3:24:09
  sea that, by mourning my oilskin top covering was like a hydrographic model,
• 3:24:15
  with watersheds, creeks, mainstreams, and reservoirs all in detail. However,
• 3:24:20
  I made my morning coffee doubly strong to offset the alkali and ward off what
• 3:24:26
  people used to call the humors. It must be by virtue of these dense
• 3:24:33
  and frequent fogs that the oaks of this region grow up to such rare perfection.
• 3:24:39
  By this means they not only received the necessary moisture for growth which the
• 3:24:45
  roots would supply, but are enabled often actually to bathe and revel in it.
• 3:24:52
  They have not only bread but wine, are comforted as well as fed,
• 3:24:58
  and their plump and cheerful f faces reflect their enjoyment. Soon after we
• 3:25:05
  took the road, I saw two wagons toiling toward me up the grade.
• 3:25:09
  When we met, the drivers pulled up their horses for a chat. They
• 3:25:13
  had come from Ventura, where they had a saddlery shop and were just taking
• 3:25:18
  in the country a particular idiom that aways amuses me, and doing a little
• 3:25:24
  business. As they went to pay expenses. With this in view, they
• 3:25:30
  offered to sell me in turn a horse oranges, a horsehair reata, a
• 3:25:35
  revolver, neckties, a saddle, a brace of rabbits, and finally some
• 3:25:39
  astounding chromographs. Then they inquired my own line, and at once suggested that
• 3:25:48
  I should do it all advertising for them in my books. For this they
• 3:25:52
  were willing to pay I suppose in rabbits or neckties. They were puzzled but
• 3:25:58
  not offended when I replied that that would be impossible, but supplied me with
• 3:26:03
  some printed cards, which I was to kindly drop around in hotels and such
• 3:26:07
  places. I made a half hearted promise, bought a few oranges, and
• 3:26:13
  so escaped. At the village of Las Crusus, where I arrived around midday,
• 3:26:20
  I got an excellent meal at the cottage of an old Spanish woman,
• 3:26:24
  where I had been told I might purchase bread. Her heart was enlarged over
• 3:26:30
  me when she heard that I had been the guest of the good Father at
• 3:26:33
  Santa Ynez, to whom she is a parishioner and friend. I'm always glad
• 3:26:39
  when I can get entertainment with these friendly Spanish and Mexican folk, and relish
• 3:26:43
  it far beyond the pretentious hotel hospitality of towns. From Las Crusis, the
• 3:26:52
  road turned directly south, following a picturesque gorge whose precipitous walls carried a wonderful
• 3:26:58
  growth of ferns, flowering shrubs and herbiage, mingled with huge, creamy candle
• 3:27:05
  flames of yaka. A lively stream rushes among rocks and boulders that break it
• 3:27:13
  into pleasant music. A pipeline carrying oil from the wells some miles inland to
• 3:27:20
  the refinery at Alcatraz nearby on the coast does its best to spoil the canyon
• 3:27:26
  at its prettiest point, though I suppose it seems an adornment to the gentlemen
• 3:27:30
  who owned stock in the concern. A turn of the road brought me rather
• 3:27:35
  unexpectedly within sight of the sea, and soon I came again to the shore
• 3:27:41
  at Gaviota, not many miles to the west of the spot where I had
• 3:27:45
  left it. A group of farm buildings and a dingy house showing the sign
• 3:27:50
  Gaviota Hotel and Store stored at the mouth of the canyon. But I saw
• 3:27:56
  no living being except a melancholy howl, and in the distance a mounted man
• 3:28:03
  charging about as he rounded up a bound of horses. The coast road from
• 3:28:09
  this point west, for ten or twelve miles is little more than a track,
• 3:28:13
  and that of the roughest kind quite impossible for wheeled vehicles. There was
• 3:28:20
  a fence across the path, and a notice was posted that travelers must take
• 3:28:24
  the beach. I rode down to the shore, and when I saw that
• 3:28:28
  a little farther on the tide was washing up to the base of the cliffs,
• 3:28:33
  I turned back found a way through the fence and trespassed on my way.
• 3:28:39
  The country hereabouts is monotonous and unattractive. Low undulating hills run for mile
• 3:28:46
  on mile, treeless and scanty even of brush, and the canyons are dry
• 3:28:52
  and shadeless. We marched some miles before finding water, and I resolved to
• 3:28:58
  get at the first creek I could see. At last I came to one
• 3:29:03
  which afforded good pasturage also, and at dismounting I led Chino down toward the
• 3:29:09
  beach, where I noticed a little bench of green grass at the mouth of
• 3:29:13
  the canyon and on the very edge of the shore sand. Here the expedition
• 3:29:20
  narrowly escaped disaster. The in wash of the tide meeting the water of the
• 3:29:26
  creek had formed an area, a sort of pit of quicksand this we had
• 3:29:33
  to cross in order to reach the beach, And in a moment, without
• 3:29:35
  warning, I was up to my middle and Chino, following close behind,
• 3:29:41
  plunged in beside and was almost upon me. On the instant. I threw
• 3:29:46
  myself backwards and tried to work myself out, but the sand clogged me as
• 3:29:50
  if it were liquid lead, and I could not reach back with my hands
• 3:29:54
  to where the solid ground would give me support. Chino, meanwhile, was
• 3:30:00
  struggling desperately but helplessly, the heavy saddle bags and other articles of his load
• 3:30:07
  weighing him down so that he was almost half covered. By great good fortune,
• 3:30:13
  the canyon wall was near by, not over eight feet away. It
• 3:30:18
  was of weathered rock, soft and shaley, and I thought that if I
• 3:30:22
  could anyhow work over to it, I could get a grip enough on to
• 3:30:26
  it to support myself. It seemed an impossible thing to do, with that
• 3:30:31
  fatal sand clasping and weighing me down, but I attempted it. I remember
• 3:30:37
  that as I struggled, a horror of the commonplace sunlit evening flashed over me,
• 3:30:45
  and that with it the thought that no one would ever know what had
• 3:30:48
  happened to me, for there would be no trace, no clue. That
• 3:30:54
  horrible sand would close over me, the sun would shine on the spot,
• 3:31:00
  the roar of the waves would go on unbroken. I should simply cease to
• 3:31:07
  be. I think I wondered whether there would not be any way of telling
• 3:31:11
  my friends, But I am not sure whether that thought came then or in
• 3:31:16
  thinking over it afterwards. All this can only have taken a very short time
• 3:31:22
  during which I was struggling to reach the rocky wall. At last my fingers
• 3:31:28
  scraped the rock, and gradually I was able to draw myself backwards to firm
• 3:31:31
  ground. Then I ran around by the solid beach sand, crossing the creek,
• 3:31:37
  and came back to Chino. He had stopped struggling, but lay over
• 3:31:43
  on his side and had sunk so that one of the saddle bags was quite
• 3:31:46
  out of sight. Blood, too, were spattered all about him. Coming
• 3:31:52
  as close as was safe behind him, I gradually loosened as much of his
• 3:31:58
  load as I could reach. Then I caught his rope and tried to get
• 3:32:01
  him to exert himself. For some time he made no move, and I
• 3:32:07
  thought he must have broken his off side fore leg on a half buried snag
• 3:32:11
  of dead wood that projected above the sand. Again and again I tried to
• 3:32:16
  get him to move, but he still lay on his side, drawing great
• 3:32:20
  gasping breaths, and I about decided I should have to shoot him where he
• 3:32:26
  lay. But I made a last effort, shouting and hauling at him with
• 3:32:31
  all my strength until I literally forced him to bestir himself. Then, putting
• 3:32:37
  my last ounce into it, I pulled and shouted, refusing to allow him
• 3:32:43
  to relax his effort for a moment, and gradually working his head round somewhat
• 3:32:48
  toward where I stood. With a final wild spasm, he scrambled up on
• 3:32:54
  the hard, dry sand and stood, snorting and trembling pitifully, besplattered with
• 3:33:01
  blood and utterly exhausted. I was vastly relieved to find that the blood was
• 3:33:09
  coming from his mouth and nostrils. He had broken some small blood vessel in
• 3:33:13
  his first struggles. I took off the saddle and led him carefully over to
• 3:33:18
  a grassy spot, where I washed out his mouth and then gave him a
• 3:33:22
  thorough rubbing down, And within half an hour I had the satisfaction of seeing
• 3:33:28
  my staunch companion of so many days and nights feeding with equanimity and even enthusiasm.
• 3:33:37
  The incident was sufficiently dangerous to give me a lessening caution, as well
• 3:33:41
  as cause for hearty thankfulness. There was not the slightest hint to treachery in
• 3:33:48
  the appearance of the sand, But thereafter I went warily in all doubtful places.
• 3:33:54
  I ransacked my rescued saddlebags and made a rare supper too celebrate the adventure.
• 3:34:01
  As the bags were strongly made and waterproofed, the contents had not been
• 3:34:05
  much damaged. Then I ran up my sleeping tent in view of the fog
• 3:34:09
  which I could see advancing from the sea. I chose a place on a
• 3:34:15
  little shelf of dry land, sheltered by the angle of the canyon wall,
• 3:34:20
  and apparently above high water mark by a safe, low narrow margin. Then,
• 3:34:26
  in the dusk I gathered a pile of drift wood and made a royal
• 3:34:30
  fire, by which I sat until long after dark, listening with more than
• 3:34:35
  usual enjoyment to the tinkle of Chino's bell and the manifold voices of the sea.
• 3:34:43
  There seemed that night to be an unusual variety in the sound of the
• 3:34:48
  surf. Intervals of dramatic silence were broken suddenly by roars, as if huge
• 3:34:54
  bodies of water were being dropped from some great height. Then would come a
• 3:35:01
  long sibilant swish, which, after subsiding to rippling murmurs, ended startlingly with
• 3:35:09
  a thump for tissimo. Occasionally, in the midst of a long whisper there
• 3:35:16
  would come a smart clap, followed by little quarrelings and shudderings and sighs,
• 3:35:22
  almost of human quality of tone. The ordinary sound of the breakers, the
• 3:35:28
  steady pound boom and clatter, pound, boom and clatter, seemed not to
• 3:35:35
  be in evidence. The entertainment was so interesting that it drew me down to
• 3:35:41
  the water's edge. When I passed beyond the light of the fire, I
• 3:35:46
  found a new fascination in the pale sea flame that hovered and raced up and
• 3:35:52
  down my quarter mile of beach as the rollers broke in ghostly phosphorescence. Then
• 3:35:58
  a steamer three or four miles out passed on her way up the coast,
• 3:36:03
  her light shining genially across the black void of water. I fancied that some
• 3:36:11
  lover and lass leaning together over the bulwarks might be watching my twinkling beacon,
• 3:36:18
  and I went back and threw on another log to brighten the blaze, in
• 3:36:22
  the hope that the beam might stimulate my swain to some urgency or some pretty
• 3:36:28
  fancy that should bring a happy climax to his wooing. When at last I
• 3:36:35
  felt in mood to turn in, I noticed that the tide had made a
• 3:36:37
  long advance toward my tent, but I felt sure that it was close upon
• 3:36:43
  its turn, and that I could hold my ground still, as there seemed
• 3:36:48
  just a possibility of trouble. I did not undress to my usual camping limit,
• 3:36:54
  but got into my blankets, partly dressed, and soon fell asleep.
• 3:37:01
  I had slept about half an hour when I awoke with an uneasy feeling that
• 3:37:05
  the water was coming too near. Looking out, I saw that the stronger
• 3:37:09
  ways were sending their fans of foam quietly up to within a few feet of
• 3:37:15
  me, leaving a very slight rise of beach before they would wash against and
• 3:37:20
  undermine my little shelf of sand. There seemed to be still a sporting chance
• 3:37:26
  that I should be safe, and I lay down again. But the thought
• 3:37:30
  of awakening next time to find myself swamped and the tent collapsing over me was
• 3:37:35
  so annoying that I could not sleep, and resolve to move. To go
• 3:37:41
  farther back was impossible, for the stream ran only a few yards behind me,
• 3:37:46
  So I gathered an armful of my traps and made a bolt into the
• 3:37:48
  darkness across the creek, which was already flooding with sea water, and found
• 3:37:54
  a level place among the grass near my horse. I had to make two
• 3:37:58
  more fls lights to and fro to bring the rest of my belongings, And
• 3:38:03
  then, too disgusted to set up the tent again, I made a wind
• 3:38:07
  break of the saddle bags, rolled myself up in the blankets, and finally
• 3:38:11
  got to sleep. My last glance at the red embers of the fire showed
• 3:38:16
  an ambitious wave in the act of washing it out of existence. In spite
• 3:38:22
  of mishaps, the place was so attractive in its close proximity to the sea
• 3:38:28
  and its complete retirement, that I decided to remain for another day. The
• 3:38:33
  swallows that haunted the cliffs made the pleasantest of company, flying happily about me
• 3:38:39
  and pursuing the sand flies almost into the coffee. The weather, too,
• 3:38:46
  supplied one desirable thing, namely shade, which the camp otherwise lacked. For
• 3:38:54
  the fog of the night, lifting but not passing off all day, afforded
• 3:38:58
  a delightful tempt richer with RESTful tones of color. And it is so that
• 3:39:05
  I best love the sea. Its grandeur, its significance, its solemnity are
• 3:39:11
  far more felt than neath the all revealing sun, and the water itself,
• 3:39:18
  deeply darkly clear, seems more aqueous and elemental. There was an unusual number
• 3:39:26
  of sea birds hereabouts, and in a walk down to the beach, I
• 3:39:30
  came upon the rocky point, which was their home. Hundreds of them sat,
• 3:39:35
  ranked in demure hierarchy, the shags, who were the most numerous,
• 3:39:39
  taking the lowest place, then the white back gulls, and presiding over all
• 3:39:46
  with an air of burlesque dignity, a dozen or so pelicans. At my
• 3:39:52
  approach, the whole company took flight, and in a moment the winged air
• 3:39:56
  was darked with plumes. The clatter of wings was bewildering as they circled once
• 3:40:03
  or twice, and then streamed off to settle on the bed of kelp,
• 3:40:07
  which here forms a floating reef unbroken for mile or mile. The flight of
• 3:40:16
  the pelican is a wonderful exhibition of ease in motion. I was never tired
• 3:40:22
  of watching them gliding in file, smooth, swift and silent, with no
• 3:40:28
  movement of wing, for great distances. If men ever attained to such perfection
• 3:40:35
  in aeronautics, though that is impossible, I mean to sell my belongings to
• 3:40:39
  my boots, if necessary, and purchase the magic machine. Returning from my
• 3:40:46
  walk, I almost stepped upon a rattle snake that lay coiled among the drift
• 3:40:50
  wood which I had been drawing upon for my fire. He was not a
• 3:40:56
  large one, and the calendar in his tail marked only four changes of skin.
• 3:41:01
  But I judged that he must die. Mister Muir, I remember,
• 3:41:07
  deprecates killing these creatures and says that, having once put one to death,
• 3:41:13
  he felt himself degraded by the killing business. Farther from heaven. On the
• 3:41:20
  other hand, I recalled that when on the Isle of Melita, a viper
• 3:41:26
  bit the shipwrecked apostle in the hand, he unceremoniously shook off the beast into
• 3:41:31
  the fire. My little reptile was a potential evil doer also, And on
• 3:41:39
  the whole I saw no reason for trying to better such a notable example as
• 3:41:43
  that of Saint Paul. At evening, the cloud curtain to the south lifted
• 3:41:50
  a little from the horizon, and one of the jewels of the channel group
• 3:41:54
  shone out like a great jewel in the light of the setting sun. It
• 3:42:00
  was very beautiful and rather solemn. Slow lifting of the veil, the magic
• 3:42:07
  of the revelation, the silent passage through tone on tone of ethereal color,
• 3:42:15
  until when the sun had sunk, the distant aisle stood marked in soft,
• 3:42:20
  dense purple on a glowing belt of yellow, the only object between gray of
• 3:42:28
  cloud and gray of sea. Then came the gradual lowering of the veil.
• 3:42:35
  All over again. There was something unearthly in the quiet color action, as
• 3:42:43
  if an angel had managed the heavenly display. Indeed, perhaps one had.
• 3:42:50
  Chapter ten. A bad road, a marble head skipper by gone, wailing
• 3:42:58
  Portuguese fisherman, point conception, night at the lighthouse, a natural division,
• 3:43:05
  point the Hallama, fine old olives camp on the Espada tramp company again,
• 3:43:16
  a point conception, wind, an inexplicable family, the town of Lompoc,
• 3:43:24
  Chinese freemasons, Don Camillo, a Spanish Californian, the Mission of La Parissima
• 3:43:33
  Concepsion. This stretch of coast is reputed to be the windiest part of all
• 3:43:39
  the California Sea board. There chanced to be only moderate breezes at this time,
• 3:43:46
  however, with a good deal of fog, and the morning on which
• 3:43:50
  we left the canyon was calm, with a sleepy sea that gleamed to white
• 3:43:54
  where it caught the rays of a hazy sun. The road which can never
• 3:44:00
  have been exactly a boulevard had been almost obliterated by the spring rains, and
• 3:44:07
  scraps of broken harness shed plentifully along the way seemed to illustrate the adventures of
• 3:44:13
  the last wagon that had passed over it. It was a relief when,
• 3:44:18
  after a few miles we fought our way through a jungle of ten foot mustard
• 3:44:24
  down to the beach, where we could travel on the hard sand. There
• 3:44:28
  seemed a little risk here and there of being cut off by the tide before
• 3:44:33
  we could round the many headlands, and at every crossing of a creek,
• 3:44:37
  I could see the adventure of the quicksand calm vividly to Chino's mind. The
• 3:44:43
  loneliness of the region was marked by the presence of a bald eagle that sat
• 3:44:48
  in haughty solitude at the cliff edge and gazed on us with unquailing eye as
• 3:44:54
  we passed below. This great bird is becoming Rarefornia, but still breeds in
• 3:45:01
  the lonely islands off the coast. At Elboullito Canyon, I caught a glimpse
• 3:45:09
  of the handsome large house of a local cattle barren, gleaming white among the
• 3:45:15
  noble oaks. It had much the air of French chateau, until I reflected
• 3:45:20
  that it was probably built of one inch plank, or perhaps cardboard. Canyon
• 3:45:26
  followed canyon, breaking the rounded hills of yellowing grass that rose in long succession
• 3:45:33
  to the west. Coming to the Canada Del Coho, I found a little
• 3:45:39
  cluster of buildings where a trio of Portuguese fishermen had established themselves. A great
• 3:45:46
  boiling of nets was going forward in an immense cauldron set against the cliff,
• 3:45:52
  and in a shed one of the men was employed in making traps for crawfish
• 3:45:56
  destined I suspect to appear as lobsters on the dining tables of San Francisco and
• 3:46:03
  Los Angeles. As pasturage was scanty hereabouts, I had a mind to camp
• 3:46:09
  if I could buy forage for my horse. The Portuguese had none, for
• 3:46:15
  they kept no horse. But I learned that an old American fisherman lived close
• 3:46:20
  by on the cliff, and that there I might find what I wanted.
• 3:46:26
  I found the old man at home, and he willingly offered the best he
• 3:46:28
  had for Chino, the use of a decaying stable, and for myself to
• 3:46:33
  spread my blankets in an old barn among rats, bats, nets, sails,
• 3:46:39
  and rudders. His own quarters were hardly better, and housed a quaint
• 3:46:46
  museum of smells, the accumulated odors of half a century of fish. I
• 3:46:54
  shared his supper of eggs, potatoes, which was his fancy to call,
• 3:46:58
  oranges, biscuits, and coffee, while he, at my request, told
• 3:47:03
  me little of his history. He was an old marble head skipper who had
• 3:47:09
  found his way to this solitary spot as far back as the year eighteen sixty
• 3:47:13
  six, and had lived here alone since that time. His Portuguese neighbors had
• 3:47:22
  come only a year or two ago. He was now seventy six, but
• 3:47:26
  still followed his calling and had no idea of forsaking it yet. Awhile,
• 3:47:31
  why should, he said? When he went into Santa Barbara, he saw
• 3:47:37
  men of his own age hanging off and on without wind enough in their sails
• 3:47:41
  to blow out a candle, and look at him as sound as a forecastle
• 3:47:46
  bulkhead, dangerous to handle the boat alone, Well maybe, but he never
• 3:47:54
  thought of that storms worm. Yes, now, and then he was capsized
• 3:48:01
  and was pretty badly used up when a lumber schooner picked him up just before
• 3:48:05
  nightfall. But that was years ago, and he thought the weather of late
• 3:48:09
  years wasn't near as hard as it used to be in the channel. Maybe
• 3:48:15
  I didn't know that there used to be a sight of whaling went on right
• 3:48:18
  here at the old Coho landing, not so long ago as I'd think neither.
• 3:48:24
  The whalers camp was right below there, and they would tow the whales
• 3:48:30
  or California grays they were mostly to shore and cut them up and try out
• 3:48:35
  the blubber on the beach. You see, there wasn't so many places along
• 3:48:41
  this piece of coast where you could beach a boat anyway, So the co
• 3:48:43
  Ho was quite a place in them days. And had I ever heard of
• 3:48:48
  the school the priests used to have a few miles up the country. It
• 3:48:54
  was for teaching the boys to be priests. And now and then some of
• 3:48:58
  them boys would break away and run off down here, and he would row
• 3:49:03
  them out to some ship that came in near, like they generally do coming
• 3:49:07
  round conception. The old fellow chuckled delightedly over this reminiscence, as a smuggler
• 3:49:15
  would over the shooting of a rich cargo of contraband. When I appeared by
• 3:49:20
  appointment for breakfast. At a quarter past four, I found that he had
• 3:49:24
  already taken his own and was ready to go out for the morning catch.
• 3:49:30
  I hinted that I should like to accompany him, but he ignored the suggestion,
• 3:49:35
  evidently feeling that lad lovers were best ashore. He left me to close
• 3:49:41
  up the house when I was ready to move, cautioning me to see that
• 3:49:43
  the chickens were shut up in their coup, while the coyotes would surely get
• 3:49:48
  them. So he took the fat gray horse, and I watched them drag
• 3:49:52
  the boat down to the water, and saw him shove off, leaving the
• 3:49:58
  horse tied on the beach, ready to haul up the boat on his return.
• 3:50:03
  Plucky old Yankee skipper. Someday the old gray horse may wait over long,
• 3:50:11
  and master and boat may come home at last in evil plight, thrown
• 3:50:16
  up mere drift by the indifferent sea. But meanwhile we never think of that.
• 3:50:28
  I stopped a chat with the Portuguese as I passed on, and I
• 3:50:31
  felt an interest in meeting these countrymen of de Gama and mcgellan, Dark,
• 3:50:39
  active, crisp looking fellows. They were very different from the American or English
• 3:50:43
  fisherman type, but they fitted well into the picture that came to my mind
• 3:50:48
  of carracks, caravels, arquebussiers and marinaros, and passed the headland northward,
• 3:50:56
  slowly drifting the freighted galler. This was the type of men who went flitting
• 3:51:03
  about uncharted and all but fabulous seas under the flag of the navigator prints.
• 3:51:11
  Midday found me still lounging there, and I was invited to eat dinner with
• 3:51:15
  them. The wife of one, a smiling, handsome woman speaking excellent English,
• 3:51:22
  had prepared a delicious meal, my offer of payment for which was generously
• 3:51:26
  scouted. The husband and one of the other men, as I learned casually
• 3:51:31
  at the table, had been capsized the week before, while the wife had
• 3:51:37
  helplessly watched them through the glass for twelve hours as they clung to the bottom
• 3:51:43
  of their boat. Two miles further on I passed a government point where lay
• 3:51:48
  the bones of a small steamer, the Shasta, wrecked here a few years
• 3:51:54
  ago. And then striking across a wide sandy plateau, another mile brought us
• 3:52:00
  two point Conception and the neat white buildings of the lighthouse station. I had
• 3:52:07
  brought a note of introduction to the keeper, and found myself a bone of
• 3:52:11
  hospitable contention between him and his next in command. The lighthouse is an important
• 3:52:18
  one, with the light of the first order Frisnell system visible for forty miles,
• 3:52:26
  and a foghorn whose range I do not remember, by which I could
• 3:52:28
  estimate as about ten thousand newsboy power. The building stands on a bold angle
• 3:52:37
  of this great Seaward promontory and carries its lantern two hundred and fifty feet above
• 3:52:43
  the water. The night I passed there was densely foggy, and while sharing
• 3:52:50
  the watch of the second officer, I found it fascinating to pace for the
• 3:52:54
  midnight hour about the rocky platform, dank and slippery with the mist, listening
• 3:53:00
  to the maelstrom of swirling roaring water and the grim hail of the siren,
• 3:53:07
  bellowing to unseen ships. Its warning against the treachery of the fog, raws
• 3:53:15
  and again and over rolls a terrible sound to strike the ear of seamen or
• 3:53:24
  sea traveler. Too near, too late for warning, it turns to a
• 3:53:28
  cry for help, often alas too late for that as well. A sight
• 3:53:35
  that I shall long remember was that of the sixteen great moving bars of light
• 3:53:41
  marked on the fog, like spokes of a gigantic wheel. As the huge
• 3:53:46
  lens revolved on its bearings, the white beams traveled slowly, smoothly round,
• 3:53:54
  searching the fog inch by inch, as if to discover what it might be
• 3:53:58
  hiding, doomed ship or ship wrecked men in boat or raft, drowning sailor
• 3:54:05
  clutching at a spa, or pallid bodies of the dead. As the rays
• 3:54:13
  passed in turn over the face of rock behind the tower, the shrubs and
• 3:54:16
  flowers started out of the gloom, as if they too were dead and suffered
• 3:54:22
  an unwilling resurrection. It was a relief after a while to climb again to
• 3:54:28
  the tower and join my friend in the commonplace comforts of coffee and cigars until
• 3:54:35
  four o'clock and daybreak ended his watch and sent us to bed. My last
• 3:54:43
  waking sensation was the shriek of the foghorn, still on duty. Raws Point
• 3:54:54
  Conception forms the western abutment of the Santa Inez Mountains. The el as it
• 3:55:00
  were, to the humorous here ends the long westerly trend of the shore,
• 3:55:07
  which from this point bends sharply northward, I looked with interest to see what
• 3:55:13
  lay next before me. What I saw was a bluff rocky coast, shut
• 3:55:18
  off at a few miles distance by the promontory of Point Aguello, and looming
• 3:55:24
  above a wilderness of broken mountains, one impressive peak, El Tranquilion. Someone
• 3:55:31
  had a happy inspiration in that name. The railway here follows the shore closely,
• 3:55:37
  with the road now a somewhat better one accompanying it. In my mental
• 3:55:46
  survey of the coast of the state, I had always found it fall naturally
• 3:55:50
  into three divisions, a southern from the Mexican boundary to this salient angle,
• 3:55:56
  a central from here to San Francisco, and a northern thence to the Oregon
• 3:56:01
  Line. Dana, also whose observation extended from San Diego to San Francisco,
• 3:56:09
  viewing the coast in the large way of a sailor, remarks that Point Conception
• 3:56:15
  may be made the dividing line between two different faces of the country. As
• 3:56:20
  you go to the northward of the point, the country becomes more wooded,
• 3:56:24
  has a richer appearance, and is better supplied with water. So in leaving
• 3:56:31
  Point Conception, I felt the stimulus of new expectations and the prospect of trees
• 3:56:35
  in greater number of variety made a special attraction. The first few miles of
• 3:56:43
  our new road, however, proved barren of event and even of water.
• 3:56:48
  All the morning we traveled a dusty road far enough from the cliff edge to
• 3:56:52
  be shut off from the view of the sea, and bordered on the other
• 3:56:56
  hand by tedious hills robed in summer monotony of brown. About noon we crossed
• 3:57:03
  the railway and came down to the beach near the mouth of Halama Creek.
• 3:57:09
  There was a spring of warm sulfur water here, whose virtues for bathing I
• 3:57:15
  should have liked to test. But trains whose schedule I did not know,
• 3:57:20
  passed unduly near, and it was necessary to refrain. I had been told
• 3:57:28
  to see the old Halama Ranch, which lay a few miles inland. It
• 3:57:33
  is now deserted, and is said to have been in appanage of the neighboring
• 3:57:37
  Mission de la Parissima Concepsion in the days of its prosperity. Indeed, I
• 3:57:43
  heard it spoken of by the Mexicans as the Mission of San Francisquito. A
• 3:57:50
  romantic trail led to it by way of a valley of great shaggy oaks.
• 3:57:56
  I passed an old orchard where vines still grew, rampant of leaf, though
• 3:58:00
  fruitless, and a little farther on the remains of a cellar like wine vat
• 3:58:05
  of masonry, overflowing now with phenomenal nettles and lively with bright eyed lizards.
• 3:58:15
  The old ranch itself occupies a shady dell like spot at the junction of two
• 3:58:20
  creeks that made music all through the vale. I walked under avenues of ancient
• 3:58:26
  olives, which met overhead and whitened the grass with myriads of starry blossoms,
• 3:58:33
  a habit of this tree, by which one of Job's obnoxious friends illustrated the
• 3:58:39
  fate of the wicked who shall cast off his flower as the olive. Two
• 3:58:46
  huge poplar like pear trees were heavy with fruit, and there were the remains
• 3:58:52
  of an efficient hedge of the tuna cactus. Altogether, it is a beautiful
• 3:58:58
  and interesting place, and if one wishes to make me a present of the
• 3:59:03
  San Julian ranch on which it lies, I shall have no difficulty in deciding
• 3:59:07
  where to build my country seat. I returned to the coast by sundown and
• 3:59:13
  pitched camp on the bluff beyond the creek. Near By was a black and
• 3:59:20
  iileless ruin of adobe, the old ranch house of the Espada. After getting
• 3:59:26
  my supper, I walked over to inspect it. As I passed the doorless
• 3:59:31
  entrance of one of the rooms, I caught a whiff of tobacco, and
• 3:59:35
  a voice from the gloom hailed me with come in partner, lots of room.
• 3:59:41
  I hope I am as good a democrat as the average man, but
• 3:59:46
  I confess I was a little nettled at the cordiality of this greeting, evidently
• 3:59:50
  from a brother tramp. However, I put a good face on it and
• 3:59:56
  entered. I could see nothing but the red tip of a sea and the
• 4:00:01
  twin highlight of a brilliant nose. But the voice in which I was invited
• 4:00:05
  to sit down on a box, which I should find by the door,
• 4:00:09
  had a guileless tone and even a hint of timidity, and my foolish resentment
• 4:00:16
  faded away. So we sat and exchanged judicious explanations. Or rather I sat
• 4:00:22
  and he lay, for he announced that he had gone to bed. No
• 4:00:28
  elaborate ceremony, I suspect I could tell that he was a man of fair
• 4:00:33
  education, even before he confided to me that he was the son of a
• 4:00:37
  well to do Ohio farmer and had thrown up good prospects when the wanderlust caught
• 4:00:43
  him twenty years before. I could but admire the philosophy of his conclusion.
• 4:00:50
  He thought sometimes that he might have made a mistake. There is much virtue
• 4:00:56
  in might. After all, to the actual bad, there is always a
• 4:01:01
  possible worse, and still beyond that there lies a whole unknown region of superlative.
• 4:01:09
  I invited my neighbor to breakfast with me, and looked forward with some
• 4:01:13
  curiosity to the meeting by daylight. He proved to be a tall, middle
• 4:01:20
  aged pathetic man, weak of mouth and eye, buttoned and safety pinned into
• 4:01:26
  a long overcoat. He was loud in enthusiasm and genuine enough, poor fellow,
• 4:01:33
  I have no doubt over my camping appliances. The little sleeping tent was
• 4:01:37
  a marvel, only possible because extant, almost more incredible, were my white
• 4:01:46
  enamel cups and plates. He became incoherent over the coffee, and could only
• 4:01:52
  express his admiration for all in such impressive generalizations as well. I call this
• 4:01:58
  living, or don't that knock you now. When we parted, Chico's load
• 4:02:07
  was lighter by my duplicate set of enamel ware and half my supply of coffee.
• 4:02:13
  As I passed the neat house of a small ranch near the road,
• 4:02:18
  I halted to make inquiry as to the road. The rancher, a young
• 4:02:22
  Spaniard, proved so affable that our conversation extended until noon, when I was
• 4:02:28
  invited to join the family for a meal. Both signor O and his wife
• 4:02:35
  were of families that figure largely in the ante American history of California, and
• 4:02:41
  here again I experienced the open hearted courtesy of this kindly race. A few
• 4:02:48
  miles inland from here was the town of Lompoc, near which were the remains
• 4:02:52
  of another of the missions, La Purisima Concepsione. After a mile or two,
• 4:03:01
  I struck a road running northward, which made a fairly direct route to
• 4:03:05
  the place. A cold wind had sprung up, from which I hoped to
• 4:03:09
  find shelter by taking to the canyon up which the road lay, But I
• 4:03:16
  was sadly mistaken, for the power and coldness of the wind increased as the
• 4:03:20
  road climbed, until both myself and Chino were in misery. This then,
• 4:03:28
  was a taste of Dana's infamous point conception. Wind harder and harder it blew,
• 4:03:37
  and by some local ingenuity in managed to come from all quarters in quick
• 4:03:43
  succession, or sometimes even from all at once. The sun shone clearly enough,
• 4:03:50
  but made not the least impression on the temperature. The grass and herbage
• 4:03:54
  looked pinched and starving, and the very rocks seemed to cet. Ordinarily the
• 4:04:01
  scene would have been interesting, though not specially pleasing. The weird yellow land,
• 4:04:07
  treeless, silent and uninhabited for league on league, the stark hard sky,
• 4:04:16
  the glimpse of indigo sea behind, and the pale lilac road winding interminably
• 4:04:22
  away till it became a mere scratch of gray on the great hill shoulders that
• 4:04:28
  lifted to the distant skyline. It was picturesque, or posts a esque in
• 4:04:35
  an odd clever way, but under that confounded wind it looked abject, bald,
• 4:04:43
  and almost hideous. At last, to my vast relief, the divide
• 4:04:48
  was crossed and we dropped into peace and comfort. The contrast within twenty yards
• 4:04:56
  was amazing. A soft sun lighted a lag landscape varied with trees, fields
• 4:05:01
  of grain, and cattle spotted pastures. Beside the road stood a little farmhouse
• 4:05:09
  in a bright garden of flowers. A stream ran in a pretty canyon that
• 4:05:15
  opened eastward, and here we stopped to regain our tranquility and eat our lunch.
• 4:05:22
  Then I went up to the farmhouse to assure myself of my road.
• 4:05:28
  A solemn man and boy in Quakerish, wide brimmed hats, and who were
• 4:05:33
  apparently in the act of leaving the house to return to work, answered my
• 4:05:37
  knock. An incomprehensible scene over which I had pondered more than once met my
• 4:05:45
  gaze. As the door was opened. By the table, where evidently a
• 4:05:50
  meal had just been dispatched, stood two heavy looking, middle aged women,
• 4:05:54
  each with a wreath of flowers on her head. Their eyes were bent upon
• 4:06:00
  the floor, and for all sides of the contrary, they might have been
• 4:06:03
  graven images. Not a move was made during the two or three minutes that
• 4:06:09
  I remained there. They stood facing me, side by side, solid,
• 4:06:15
  stolid, and silent. It occurred to me that they had all been going
• 4:06:22
  to dance, or had just done so. But in view of the bearing
• 4:06:26
  and physiognomy of all four. The idea was ludicrous to the last degree.
• 4:06:33
  Is there I wonder some quaint and serious sect whose daily ritual includes a minueto
• 4:06:39
  flur after dinner? Hmm. I'd not gone far before I heard the man
• 4:06:46
  and boy coming up behind. They walked side by side with long marching steps,
• 4:06:52
  and each carried a shovel. Without a word or a look, they
• 4:06:56
  stalked by like ships that pass in the night. I watched them until they
• 4:07:03
  turned in at a gate that led to a hillside field of grain. There
• 4:07:07
  they passed beyond my can, but for a long time they haunted my camp
• 4:07:13
  fires like some hopeless conundrum. The country I now found myself in was of
• 4:07:20
  an unusual character. The canyon ran between high hills, broken with cliffs,
• 4:07:28
  and darkly variegated with solid clumps of trees. Farmhouses were perched precariously on these
• 4:07:35
  steep slopes, and a fringe of timber wavered along the skyline. At the
• 4:07:43
  bottom ran the creek. Growing apace, and the road which followed it was
• 4:07:48
  quite charming, often overlaced with oaks and bordered with high banks on which honeysuckle,
• 4:07:54
  wild roses, wallflowers, and many other wildling favorites grew among jungles of
• 4:08:01
  grass and thickets of prosperous weeds. The occasional roadside houses stood among cherry and
• 4:08:09
  apple trees, and altogether the region looked interesting, homelike and cheerful. By
• 4:08:16
  evening I found myself on the outskirts of Lompoc. This is a town of
• 4:08:22
  quite respectable size, but of sedate and village like aspect. The locality is
• 4:08:28
  famous for its farming, and a branch of the railway comes down from the
• 4:08:31
  coast. The principal crop is mustard, fields, of which lie all about
• 4:08:39
  the town, while blooming blossomed stragglers invade the vacant lots and corners. On
• 4:08:46
  a side street I passed a red and green balconied house on which appeared the
• 4:08:52
  sign Ye Hing Chinese Freemasons headquarters. This had a queer look. I tried
• 4:09:01
  to conjecture what mongrel rights might be celebrated within. It was not easy,
• 4:09:07
  but so far as secrecy is concerned, at least one can understand that these
• 4:09:13
  impenetrable people are well fitted to be adepts. There is a considerable Spanish and
• 4:09:20
  Mexican population in this old town. I had brought a letter of introduction to
• 4:09:26
  Don Camillo R. The head of one of the old Spanish California families,
• 4:09:31
  and formerly the owner of a great grant of land farther north. I found
• 4:09:37
  him living in a cottage of four or five little rooms, and my interview
• 4:09:41
  with him and his wife was most pleasant. The tall old Dawn in his
• 4:09:46
  black silk skull cap was like a Van Dyke picture, and his manner was
• 4:09:52
  a fine fusion of dignity, simplicity and cordiality. It was delightful to watch
• 4:10:01
  him romping with his sturdy baby grandson, and hear him pronounce over and over
• 4:10:05
  again with innocent pride in his English, the name of his son, Billy,
• 4:10:11
  whom I was charged to call upon on my way up country. The
• 4:10:16
  vivacious Donia bustled about to get me afternoon tea, as every day in England
• 4:10:24
  they have it. Is it not true? No hospitality could be more gracious,
• 4:10:30
  And I will add more touching. It was not only hindness, but
• 4:10:35
  honor that they would heap upon me. Whenever I hear, as as I
• 4:10:41
  often do, disparaging words spoken of the Spanish race. I have only to
• 4:10:46
  recall that simple meal and those delightful people to range myself without hesitation on their
• 4:10:54
  side. As I came into Lompoc, I part thus the ruins of the
• 4:11:01
  original mission of La Purisima Concepcion, distinguished now as the Mission Vieha, or
• 4:11:09
  Old Mission. To mark it from its successor, It is little more than
• 4:11:15
  a heap of Adobe's, but a great crack still shows the means of its
• 4:11:20
  demolition by earthquake. The second mission was built some three miles to the northwest
• 4:11:26
  of the town, where the next day I found it sleeping in gentler decay,
• 4:11:31
  among sober brown hills and acres of mustard and beans. It too has
• 4:11:39
  long been disused, and as with Santa Inez, the heavy rains of the
• 4:11:45
  last spring, had wrought havoc with the unprotected walls of Adobe. A long
• 4:11:52
  row of fileted pillars and one or two door and window openings alone give coherence
• 4:11:58
  to the ruin. Wild mustard waved in profusion around and within the precincts.
• 4:12:05
  I pitched camp on a clear spot among the tangle of weeds, and passed
• 4:12:09
  a quiet sunday in wandering about the old place, and in the company of
• 4:12:15
  quail, doves and squirrels, and echoes and fancies of the past. Chapter
• 4:12:24
  eleven, Pine Canyon, the Burton Mesa Camp on the San Antonio, the
• 4:12:31
  Sierra Santa Lucia in view Cosmalia, and the Todos Santos. A fine sea
• 4:12:39
  scape, point sal friendly entertainers, a Spanish petrucchio, fog and rough trail
• 4:12:48
  Guas de Lupe, Humors of fence advertising the valley in town of Santa Maria,
• 4:12:56
  Southern California. Left behind hunt a location, the Nipomo Valley, the
• 4:13:03
  Dana family, Arroyo Grande Valley, San Luibispo Bay, an Indian burying place,
• 4:13:13
  a Portuguese legend, the Avias of Avia, more Spanish Californian hospitality,
• 4:13:22
  Shakespeare and the Drama of California. From the mouth of the Santa Ynez River,
• 4:13:30
  which is a few miles northwest of Lompoc, the coast, who fifteen
• 4:13:33
  miles or so, is low, sandy, waterless, and for the greater
• 4:13:39
  part of the distance roadless. When I add to these unsavory items the probability
• 4:13:46
  of that dismal wind still blowing on the coast, I searched the map for
• 4:13:52
  some better way, and decided to take a road that ran north by way
• 4:13:56
  of Pine Canyon, parallel with the coast, but a few more miles inland,
• 4:14:01
  we crossed the river by a wide ford. Chino was excited this morning,
• 4:14:07
  walking fast and nervously, evidently for some reason. In a hurry to
• 4:14:11
  get away from La Parissima, I had tethered him at night in a rather
• 4:14:16
  ghostly looking angle of the mission wall for shelter from the wind, and his
• 4:14:22
  present behavior made me wonder whether my good horse might not have a streak of
• 4:14:26
  superstition in his make up. I found Pine Canyon as attractive as its name.
• 4:14:33
  The road was enclosed by steep hills, wooded with oaks and small pines,
• 4:14:37
  and water and pasturage were plentiful. The pine is ever my best loved
• 4:14:43
  tree, and these were the first of the family I had come among directly
• 4:14:48
  since I started. I was tempted to make a camp, but it was
• 4:14:52
  only midday when we came to the head of the canyon and found ourselves at
• 4:14:56
  the edge of a wide flatt ex pants known as the Burton Meser, which
• 4:15:03
  stretches west and north unbroken for miles. Across this we took our tedious way
• 4:15:11
  through leagues of oats uninterrupted by house or fence, and but little enlivened by
• 4:15:18
  a few haggard, wind blown oaks. Only once I saw a wagon passing
• 4:15:24
  hull down on the distant horizon of oats, as if it had been a
• 4:15:28
  ship at sea. To the north rose a low range of whitish shay hills,
• 4:15:35
  and I thought I descried a derrick or two at its foot. It
• 4:15:39
  was a depressing landscape. No birds seemed to inhabit it, and the only
• 4:15:45
  sound over all the wide space was the long whisper of the oats. The
• 4:15:52
  sparse flowers looked lonely and frightened. Even the poppiers seemed to have lost their
• 4:15:58
  broad yellow smile. I was glad when an abrupt descent took us down to
• 4:16:03
  the San Antonio Creek. A large ranch house stood on a knoll beside it,
• 4:16:10
  but all up and down the long valley no human being was in sight.
• 4:16:15
  We crossed the creek, and among a clump of leari like moss draped
• 4:16:19
  oaks on a side hill, I made camp. The cottonwoods that grew along
• 4:16:26
  the creek bottom made quarters for a large colony of crows. I like these
• 4:16:32
  loud, cheerful blaggards that carry off their iniquities with such bravado. The sound
• 4:16:38
  when they came swinging home at bedtime was like the crowd cheering the orata of
• 4:16:44
  the day. And when they began to shout and scuffle over the desirable purchase,
• 4:16:49
  Chino looked round at me from his gazing in amazement at such behavior.
• 4:16:56
  A rattling chorus came already from the frogs in the creek, and before supper
• 4:17:02
  was over, the owls opened in unusual variety of song. Nor unhappily was
• 4:17:10
  the impish note of the mosquito absent from the concert. I turned in early
• 4:17:15
  and smoked my after dinner pipe. In bed, chatting with Chino and watching
• 4:17:21
  the stars winking through the leafy canopy. The rumble of surf came to me
• 4:17:26
  from four miles away, with a peculiar deep tone that was due perhaps to
• 4:17:32
  its being conveyed partly through the earth. Then I felt some small animal,
• 4:17:38
  probably mole or gopher, shoveling at me from below. With moonrise, there
• 4:17:45
  arose also an indescribable hubbub of coyotes. How they went like mourners at a
• 4:17:57
  wake to these dulcet tones. I fell asleep and knew no more till Chino
• 4:18:04
  called me at first daylight, whinnying to be let loose to graze. Our
• 4:18:11
  way next morning was up a long canyon with a frightfully bad road. There
• 4:18:15
  was compensation in the beauty of the oaks, which shaded the way with an
• 4:18:19
  almost solid firmament of foliage. At the head of the canyon, I looked
• 4:18:25
  out at a long desired sight, the distant highlands of the Sierra Santa Lucia,
• 4:18:32
  lying low and blue in the north. For years I had been waiting
• 4:18:37
  my chance to get at that little traveled range, and it had formed in
• 4:18:41
  part a main inducement in planning the summer's trip. Now that at last I
• 4:18:47
  was coming within striking distance, I gazed at it with special interest, trying
• 4:18:52
  to forecast from the dim and tumbled outlines some features of contour, timber or
• 4:18:59
  stream. A long grade took us down to the valley of the Todos Santos,
• 4:19:06
  through which comes the railroad on its way to the coast. A few
• 4:19:08
  miles to the southward. At the foot I found the village of Cosmilia.
• 4:19:15
  Half of its score or so of houses were closed, and hotel and store
• 4:19:21
  were vacant and dismantled. I was glad that I had stayed the last night
• 4:19:26
  on the San Antonio instead of pushing on to this cheers place. I sat
• 4:19:32
  for a few moments on the porch of the hotel while I condoled with an
• 4:19:36
  old Chasmalian. Why yes, he mourned. The barley and beans looked good,
• 4:19:44
  but the toady Santi ain't what she used to be in them all strikes
• 4:19:48
  in the Sante Maries plump cleaned this whole country out of ranch hands. You'd
• 4:19:53
  have thought was whiskey. They struck stead of oil. This pregnant remark again
• 4:20:00
  point When passing the saloon A few minutes later, I noted the speaker's figure
• 4:20:06
  in an expressive posture at the bar. A belt of broken country here extends
• 4:20:11
  to the ocean, ending in a fine headland at points sal It looked so
• 4:20:18
  interesting that I turned westward to see what the coast might be like. Following
• 4:20:22
  an almost deserted road for a few miles through rolling cattle range, I came
• 4:20:27
  upon a striking landscape. A strong wind blew from the west, and before
• 4:20:34
  it the fog rolled in gray, chill and gloomy southward stretched the shore of
• 4:20:41
  sandy barrens, on which huge breakers thundered with a power that betokened that a
• 4:20:47
  considerable storm had blown at sea. Beyond a mile, all outline was lost
• 4:20:53
  in the smother of flying sand and spray. Now and again, a pale
• 4:21:00
  gleam of sun flooded the scene with strange, dull tones of colour. The
• 4:21:06
  heavy water showed yellow through the pallid wash of foam, and the wastes of
• 4:21:11
  sand took on a sickly tinge of ochre. To the northwest, the point
• 4:21:18
  showed dark and misty between the upper and nether firmaments of the fog. At
• 4:21:23
  five miles distance, I could see the flash of the waves as they burst
• 4:21:29
  and rushed wildly up the face of the cliffs. All combined to interpret the
• 4:21:34
  intrinsic sadness the ageless passion of the sea. It was hard to turn away
• 4:21:44
  from this superb site, but evening was coming on, and the nightly problems
• 4:21:48
  of water and forage waited to be solved. A mile further on I met
• 4:21:53
  two horsemen, one evidently American, the other Mexican, who rained up and
• 4:21:59
  seen to wait an explanation. When I inquired the prospects of making camp.
• 4:22:06
  The reply was discouraging. I was told the road had been abandoned. I
• 4:22:10
  could not cross the mountains by it and must turn back. I answered that
• 4:22:15
  with a saddle horse, I thought I could get through, and anyway I
• 4:22:19
  meant to try to this. The American replied that the road was fenced across
• 4:22:26
  and the gates nailed up. He was foreman of a caro on this range,
• 4:22:32
  and no one but his own family lived farther on. I saw that
• 4:22:37
  for some reason I was regarded with suspicion, and it seemed best to make
• 4:22:41
  plain the innocent nature of my intentions. The explanation brought a welcome change of
• 4:22:48
  attitude. The hospitable American instinct came into play, and I was told that
• 4:22:52
  I might go on to the ranch house, where I was welcome to stay
• 4:22:56
  the night. An hour's travel took us to the house. I saw no
• 4:23:02
  one about the place, and my knock was not at once answered. The
• 4:23:06
  first thing that came into view as the door was opened was a rifle,
• 4:23:10
  evidently held by the person who opened it. This proved to be the foreman's
• 4:23:15
  wife, and to her I related my meeting with her husband. I suppose
• 4:23:19
  my appearance backed up my story where the rifle was laid aside, and I
• 4:23:25
  was invited to put up my horse and make myself at home until supper time.
• 4:23:29
  By then the husband had returned, and the meal was enjoyable, with
• 4:23:33
  racy table talk as well as good fare. They were Oklahoma's, not long
• 4:23:40
  in California, and full of entertaining comments and comparisons. I was struck by
• 4:23:47
  the feeling for natural beauty which came out in the conversation of this foreman of
• 4:23:51
  cowboys. He spoke in vivid words of the grandeur and mystery of the sea,
• 4:23:57
  and had a ready eye for anything fine in light and shade, or
• 4:24:02
  in canyon and mountain contour. From the daughter of a former owner of the
• 4:24:07
  Point Sal Ranch, whom I met a day or two later in Santa Maria,
• 4:24:14
  I gained some interesting particulars regarding the place I had noticed near the ranch
• 4:24:18
  house, an odd shaped little building, looking like a lost summer house.
• 4:24:25
  I found it had been the deck cabin of a ship that was wrecked on
• 4:24:29
  the Point. The captain and his little daughter and some of the crew were
• 4:24:33
  buried on the hill above the house. No bad resting place for storm beaten
• 4:24:40
  seamen, but bleak and pitiful for that little daughter. The remains of a
• 4:24:48
  cable landing on the cliff above, and quiet waters inside the point were a
• 4:24:52
  reminder of the anti railway days when Point sal Landing was a place of more
• 4:24:59
  importance than now. From here a road went east by way of the Cuyama
• 4:25:04
  Valley and through the San Rafel Mountains to Fort to Hone, a name of
• 4:25:11
  epic sound to Californians of half a century ago, and over it an incredible
• 4:25:17
  amount of traffic came and went to and from this little shipping place. That
• 4:25:23
  was the age of mules in the West, and on these primitive mountain roads,
• 4:25:29
  teeming rose to the level of a science in later days. The working
• 4:25:34
  of gypsum mines in the mountains nearby furnished employment for many men, and there
• 4:25:41
  had been some excitement over the discovery of gold in the sands of the beach,
• 4:25:45
  and rumors of a rich mine hidden in some cave known to the Indians
• 4:25:51
  and only to be reached by boats at low tide and at risk of life.
• 4:25:57
  From time to time measure seekers were trapped on the shore by the water,
• 4:26:03
  so the good old gentleman my informant's father kept a steak with rope attached
• 4:26:08
  on the cliff edge, by which more than one rash gold hunter had climbed
• 4:26:14
  back to safety. I learned further that in the vicissitudes of things Californian,
• 4:26:21
  the ranch had once changed owners for the consideration of a yoke of oxen and
• 4:26:26
  a bottle of wine. And there was a full flavored story of some old
• 4:26:30
  Spanish Petruchio of the region who had tied his scolding wife to a tree,
• 4:26:36
  cut off her hair, and braided it into a pair of bridle reins.
• 4:26:41
  This dowry don seems to have had a passion for the bizarre. He is
• 4:26:47
  said to have possessed a string of dried ears collected from the enemy as he
• 4:26:52
  had slain, which quaint souvenir his daughter was wont to wear as a necklace
• 4:26:57
  at balls and fanda goes. With such legends or histories are many of these
• 4:27:04
  lonely holes and corners of California illustrated. I slept well in the old barn,
• 4:27:12
  which I shared with Chino and some families of swallows that had built in
• 4:27:17
  the gable. Next morning, my host put me on the obliterated road that
• 4:27:22
  climbed the mountain, and I bade the kindly people good bye. The scene
• 4:27:27
  again was fascinating. The wind had fallen somewhat, but still came from the
• 4:27:33
  sea and freighted me with the gloomy masses of fog. Again and again the
• 4:27:40
  cold white mist enclosed us, or streamed more darkly overhead to break away with
• 4:27:47
  bewildering suddenness and reveal the long dark headland hooded with cloud, its foot whitened
• 4:27:55
  every moment by the tearing claws of the sea. It was like a page
• 4:28:00
  of ocean. And the short mountain grass trembling in the wind, with the
• 4:28:06
  purple thistles ranked beside. The path was suited to the scene now. And
• 4:28:12
  then came the horse sparking of seals on the rocks a thousand feet below,
• 4:28:18
  that deep seal roar that beats off shore above the loudest gale. It was
• 4:28:26
  altogether the finest because the wildest piece of weather, scenery, and sentiment all
• 4:28:32
  mingled that I had met on the whole expedition. I even shouted aloud,
• 4:28:38
  never mind what in my excitement, giving Chino such a start thereby that he
• 4:28:45
  came near pitching me over the cliff. So far we had been climbing steeply,
• 4:28:51
  but keeping near the shore. Now the track struck directly northward, and
• 4:28:56
  I regretfully bad adieu to that wild and lonely The path was difficult to keep,
• 4:29:03
  and often I lost it in the wide and down like hillsides. At
• 4:29:10
  last we reached the summit in a dense smother and fog that made it impossible
• 4:29:15
  to travel at all by half an hour. Then I found that we were
• 4:29:19
  shut in by aboved wire fence, and it was another half hour before I
• 4:29:23
  could get the wires down so that Gino could step over. Finally, rounding
• 4:29:30
  the shoulder of the mountain, I came in sight of the coast to the
• 4:29:33
  northward. It ran again for a long distance in trackless dunes, and I
• 4:29:40
  determined to strike once more inland until I could return to the bolder coast that
• 4:29:45
  must begin at the southern end of the Santa Lucias. I found a rough
• 4:29:52
  road that wound down the Coralulio's canyon, and with one or two detours made
• 4:29:59
  no necessary by the washing out of the track, we came in due course
• 4:30:03
  to cultivation and the eternal barley and beans. As we emerged into the wide
• 4:30:11
  Santa Maria Valley beats joined in to make a trio. By evening we reached
• 4:30:18
  the little town of Fui Delupe. From its Spanish name, I expected to
• 4:30:25
  find it old and interesting. On the contrary, it was merely old and
• 4:30:30
  dirty. Half the place is Chinese, with the regulation red and green joss
• 4:30:36
  house. The regulation smells barbarous, yellow flags hanging from bamboos and star names
• 4:30:44
  looking like groups of excited tadpoles. The other half is mixed Portuguese and Italian
• 4:30:51
  Swiss, and it's hard to say which half was the more unprepossessing. I
• 4:30:56
  found a stable, though not an ustler for Chino, and learned from a
• 4:31:02
  skirmishing boy that the saloon across the street was the only hotel in the place.
• 4:31:07
  The proprietor, a piglike Swiss, wasted no civilities on a customer who
• 4:31:14
  had no choice and seemed to resent a request for water and a towel for
• 4:31:19
  half. The night's sleep was wrecked by the din of bibulous patrons. I
• 4:31:26
  was up betimes and hastened away from Juadalupe as the first drowsy Chinese was lighting
• 4:31:32
  his pipe in the doorway of his frowsy laundry. I now took an easterly
• 4:31:38
  course up the valley. An unbroken green of beets spread mile or mile,
• 4:31:44
  and substantial farm buildings gave evidence of prosperity. Far to the north, the
• 4:31:51
  foothills of the Santa Lucia took a hue of fawn, where the sunlight flowed
• 4:31:56
  over swelling contours of dry grass us land purple, where companies of oaks marked
• 4:32:03
  out the canyons and clouded the higher ridges. The nearer landscape was uninteresting,
• 4:32:11
  and I was fain to beguiled the way with the unconscious humor of the fence.
• 4:32:15
  Advertisements modest efforts like Goldstein's prices will surprise you or bowing and scrape en
• 4:32:25
  for shirts and a square deal were varied with bursts of wegger like songs such
• 4:32:30
  as Bilcum's shoes are straight and our prices are right. Call in and see
• 4:32:37
  us partner. Two doors past the po We'll treat you white. The board
• 4:32:45
  fence has never been given its due by writers on the genesis of American poetry.
• 4:32:53
  Gradually, houses became more frequent and more urban in look, some of
• 4:32:59
  them large, new, brilliant with paint and Bougainvilliers, I judged to be
• 4:33:03
  the residences of the local magnates in oil and beats. In due course we
• 4:33:10
  arrived at the thriving town of Santa Maria, finding it dressed in patriotic bunting
• 4:33:15
  in readiness for Independence Day. Close at hand, I put up for a
• 4:33:22
  day and found the place very attractive, the model of a progressive western town,
• 4:33:27
  neat bright and well ordered, a whole continent of parting character from its
• 4:33:33
  neighbour, the mangy and ill favored Guas Delupe. Leaving here at noon on
• 4:33:40
  the next day, I took a northwood road crossing the Santa Maria River,
• 4:33:45
  or more exactly its bed. It showed a quarter of a mile of sahara
• 4:33:49
  like sand without vestige of water, though four months before the river had been
• 4:33:56
  running a mark bank fall and yellow as ancient Nilus. Here I entered the
• 4:34:03
  County of San Luis Obispo. It opened hopefully with a rougher look, and
• 4:34:08
  I felt by many tokens that I was no longer in southern California. The
• 4:34:15
  cross range of the Tahachapee is the physical bar which gives effect to the conventional
• 4:34:21
  division of the state. It is the region south of the Tahachapee that constitutes
• 4:34:27
  southern California, and that was now finally behind me. A mile or two
• 4:34:33
  beyond the river, I saw two wagons approaching me, loaded with household staff
• 4:34:38
  that showed some family on the wing. In the first were a couple of
• 4:34:44
  rosy young women who stopped me to ask whether I had seen any people camping
• 4:34:48
  in Santa Maria as I passed through, it appeared that they were expecting to
• 4:34:52
  overtake there some advance guard of their party. In the other wagon, where
• 4:34:59
  a man, a woman, a sleeping baby, and as my ears told
• 4:35:03
  me, several more children who were stowed away in the covered rear end.
• 4:35:08
  The man accosted me with say, stranger, where are you from Los Angeles?
• 4:35:15
  Los Angeles? Eh, well, you can maybe tell us how things
• 4:35:18
  are down in that section. I made the best answer I could to this
• 4:35:22
  rather extensive question, and learn in turn that they had come down from southern
• 4:35:29
  Idaho hunting a location. There is a picturesqueness in such incidents, a bunyan
• 4:35:37
  like simplicity, as it might be. And in my journey I saw a
• 4:35:41
  company that came to meet me in the way, and when they were come
• 4:35:47
  to where I was. One that seemed the good man betokened me as if
• 4:35:51
  I should stop. So I stayed, and we fell a talking. You
• 4:35:56
  are well met, said he, And then he would have me tell him
• 4:36:00
  how all matters did in the country of the south. For you must know,
• 4:36:04
  said he, that we are travelers, as I see you are,
• 4:36:08
  and seeing we are met on contrary ways, it may be we shall save
• 4:36:14
  our steps and our beasts as well, if each other shall show the other
• 4:36:18
  what manner of country it is he is bound away from? Do you begin?
• 4:36:25
  And so on. Thus the sons of Adam John Thompson, even as
• 4:36:30
  Mahalalil, still are going about the earth in the old elementary quest, seeking
• 4:36:37
  a place of habitation. I heartily wish them god speed. And the caravan
• 4:36:44
  vanished in a cloud of dust in the Nippoma Valley through which I was now
• 4:36:51
  passing. There are living a number of members of the Dana family. At
• 4:36:56
  the death of the late head of this branch of the house, who was
• 4:37:00
  a cousin of Richard Henry Dana, the writer, who has several times been
• 4:37:04
  referred to and quoted in these pages. The Netomo ranch of over thirty seven
• 4:37:11
  thousand acres of land was divided among his numerous children. Using the privilege of
• 4:37:18
  a traveler, I called upon mister John Dana, the eldest son, and
• 4:37:22
  was received with all possible kindness, American frankness and Spanish courtesy together, for
• 4:37:30
  his mother was a career of the best blood of Spanish California. It was
• 4:37:36
  like an echo from the old days to hear from his daughter how half a
• 4:37:41
  century ago her father would ride in one day the ninety miles to Santa Barbara
• 4:37:47
  to pay a call to his betrothed in the evening. And it was a
• 4:37:52
  surprise to learn that the lady Donia Carolina was a niece of that Captain Thompson,
• 4:37:57
  whom the author of two years before the mast drew in such effective colours.
• 4:38:04
  I was entertained that night at the ranch of another one of the family
• 4:38:08
  a mile further up the valley. It needed an ample table to accommodate the
• 4:38:14
  three generations of Danas with whom I sat at supper, And I wondered,
• 4:38:18
  as I listened to the cheerful bilingual talk and noted the fine physical results of
• 4:38:25
  the union of Saxon and Spanish strains, whether the race does not suffer more
• 4:38:30
  than we think by the barriers which prejudice often raises against interracial marriages. My
• 4:38:38
  road next morning was through the rich grain land of the Nipomo. Straight Ahead
• 4:38:45
  rose a striking peak named El Picchaco, and on the east ran a range
• 4:38:52
  of odd sugar loaf hills from which many a bright rill came romping down.
• 4:38:59
  Reaching the tip of a long rise, I could see the flash of breakers
• 4:39:03
  five miles to the west. An hour or two took us into the Arroyo
• 4:39:07
  Grande Valley, a region famous especially for the growing of seeds. On leaving
• 4:39:15
  the prosperous little town, we took the road once more toward the coast,
• 4:39:19
  which we struck near El Pismo, a newly exploited beach resort. The place
• 4:39:26
  had no attractions for me, but Chino scented a stable and gazed anxiously toward
• 4:39:33
  the town as we passed it by in the offing. Here ended the long
• 4:39:38
  sweep of low sandy shore. From this point northward, the coast Ranges pushes
• 4:39:44
  its spurs sharply into the waters of the Pacific, and the scenery consequently becomes
• 4:39:49
  bolder and continuously attractive. The coast here trends west and then south to form
• 4:39:57
  the Bay of San Luis Bisis. To this point come pipelines from the oil
• 4:40:03
  fields in the interior and from Port Harford on the west side of the bay.
• 4:40:08
  Cargoes of oil are shipped to many ports on this side of the globe.
• 4:40:15
  At oil Port, I saw a deserted refining plant, complete to every
• 4:40:21
  accessory and representing a huge outlay. Its owners had been defeated in some bout
• 4:40:26
  of wits with the colossi of the industry, and there it remains silent and
• 4:40:33
  inactive, an example to rash capitalists. The road now swinging inland to avoid
• 4:40:40
  a hill, I found myself in a pretty wooded canyon. A short distance
• 4:40:45
  along it, I came unexpectedly to a hotel whose reason for being is some
• 4:40:51
  medicinal springs nearby. The place was so pleasing in its bird haunted seclusion that
• 4:40:57
  I took Chino's Hill and put up for a day or two while I explored
• 4:41:03
  the locality. On the cliff a mile away, a recent subsidence of the
• 4:41:08
  land had laid bare an ancient Indian burying place. The ground was strewn with
• 4:41:15
  crumbling yellow bones, and though the best of its archaeological treasures had already been
• 4:41:22
  gathered up by collectors. It was easy to unearth rude implements of stone that
• 4:41:27
  had been buried under many feet of accumulated soil. No doubt future ages will
• 4:41:33
  similarly delve among our own remains as those of a sort of savages. Nearby
• 4:41:41
  was the dwelling of a Portuguese fisherman, who came over to chat and hospitably
• 4:41:45
  invited me to visit his cabin. I found him full of friendly talk and
• 4:41:51
  simplicity. Seeing me notice a framed print of the Savior that hung above his
• 4:41:56
  bed, with the title O bomb Jeseus dol Milagro, the Good Jesus of
• 4:42:03
  the Miracle, he seemed to fear that, as a probable Protestant, I
• 4:42:07
  might disparage it. For the defense, he related the story of a poor
• 4:42:11
  Portuguese boy who, having once buried some money for safety, was unable to
• 4:42:18
  find it when he came back to dig it up. In his distress,
• 4:42:22
  he fell to prayer and vowed to have half the sum to the church if
• 4:42:26
  he were enabled to find it. As he resumed his digging, a man
• 4:42:32
  came by who asked what he had lost, and offered to help in the
• 4:42:34
  search. The money was quickly found, and the stranger went on his way.
• 4:42:41
  The boy, true to his word, was proceeding to fulfill his vow,
• 4:42:45
  when on the wall of the church whither he had gone to complete the
• 4:42:49
  arrangements, he saw a picture of the Savior, the same inattitude and expression
• 4:42:56
  as the one I was looking at. That is the man who help me
• 4:43:00
  find my money, he cried, joyfully. We believe that, said my
• 4:43:06
  fisherman, eagerly. We believe that people's laugh at us were We believe that
• 4:43:12
  I assured him that I saw nothing to laugh at in his story, as
• 4:43:17
  God forbid I should. At this, he was greatly pleased and shook me
• 4:43:21
  earnestly by the hand, saying that I was a good man, a good
• 4:43:25
  man for shore, and that when by help of my Spanish I was able
• 4:43:29
  to decipher some phrases of Portuguese in a letter from home, he clapped me
• 4:43:33
  on the back delightedly and declared that I was a good scholar, all right,
• 4:43:37
  good man, good scholar, good friend. A mile further along the
• 4:43:44
  coast, at the mouth of the San Luis Creek is the little village of
• 4:43:48
  Avia, where lives a Spaniard of the same name, who was related to
• 4:43:52
  some of my friends in the south. The Avias formerly owned the whole neighboring
• 4:43:59
  grant of the San Miguelito, but the inevitable has taken its course. The
• 4:44:04
  property has passed to the gringoes, and even the fine old family mansion was
• 4:44:10
  burned to the ground. A few years ago I found Don Juan living with
• 4:44:15
  his sister and niece in a little wooden building on the site of the old
• 4:44:18
  house. He was deep in King Henry the sixth, for Shakespeare and Savantes
• 4:44:26
  are his twin sons of literature. When I presented my letter I must need
• 4:44:32
  stay to dinner, he would take no denial. And then as sounds of
• 4:44:37
  agitation came from the chicken yard. There you see Donya Yosefa has killed a
• 4:44:41
  fowl for you, and Maria will be vexed if you do not taste her
• 4:44:47
  colachi. Many were the tales he had to tell of life and manners in
• 4:44:52
  the bygone days of Fiesta's and bahias in the old house, with pensive tribune
• 4:45:00
  to the rare wines and champagnes that used to flow thereat of the horses then
• 4:45:07
  of no more account than rabbits, so that if a friend, even a
• 4:45:11
  casual traveler, needed one, it was but to send the vakaros to run
• 4:45:15
  a band into the corral, and then choose the one you like, it
• 4:45:18
  is yours. And of how the Spaniards, when selling cattle would receive the
• 4:45:23
  stated price, as each beast was passed over one steer, one gold piece,
• 4:45:30
  another steer, another gold piece, and so on. That was to
• 4:45:36
  save trouble, perhaps also to save mistakes, for it is a matter of
• 4:45:41
  common report how grossly they were cheated by some of the traders, who,
• 4:45:45
  knowing that a Spaniard would not condescend to examine an account, were unduly prone
• 4:45:52
  to little blunders, casting up units as tens and so forth. When I
• 4:45:59
  rose to go, I found that a bed had been made ready for me,
• 4:46:03
  and that I must stay the night, or I should deny them the
• 4:46:06
  now rare luxury of entertaining a friend. I could not refuse this kindness.
• 4:46:12
  And Shakespeare and the Drama of California and Don Juan's Cigars occupied us until long
• 4:46:19
  past midnight. Chapter twelve, Into the Mountains, the Knobcone Pine, a
• 4:46:29
  lost trail camp on Diablo Creek, rough going a debate with Chino, French
• 4:46:37
  hospitality, and Irish. The city of San Lui Obispo, the mission,
• 4:46:45
  preposterous chimes, lynchings, volcanic peaks, a grade day Italian Swiss settlers,
• 4:46:56
  blithe cowboys, Morrow, entering the coast, range country, Cayucos, the
• 4:47:04
  town of Cambria, Avaloni fishers, San Simeon, Piedras Blancus Lighthouse, Welsh
• 4:47:15
  kindness, Indian relics, a primitive school, Irish hospitality. Again. A
• 4:47:25
  few miles to the northeast of the San Luis Hot Springs is the city of
• 4:47:29
  San Luibispo, with another of the Franciscan missions. My contour map showed an
• 4:47:36
  interesting looking piece of rough country lying near the coast, which would be missed
• 4:47:40
  if I took the direct road. I therefore determined to find a way over
• 4:47:45
  the mountains and made a start northward. Upper Canyon, charming with ferns and
• 4:47:51
  wild flowers and profitable with blackberries. A gay little brook trotted beside the road,
• 4:47:57
  and when outposts of the pines appeared on the higher ridges, I congratulated
• 4:48:03
  myself on my choice. We passed many small farms, but nearly all were
• 4:48:08
  abandoned, owing I fancy to the repeated washing out of the road in winter
• 4:48:15
  storms. Near the head of the canyon, I found the owner of a
• 4:48:18
  ranch working at the road to render it passable for a wagon in hope of
• 4:48:23
  making his farm saleable. His family and furniture had moved away, he said,
• 4:48:30
  but he should be glad of my company for the night at the house
• 4:48:33
  if I chose to stay. This I was glad to do, and enjoyed
• 4:48:40
  his simple talk of his losses, his children, and his plans. Somehow,
• 4:48:45
  such confidences often come nearer to the heart than a valuable kindness. Next
• 4:48:52
  morning, I started early on my climb. The dilapidated road went no further,
• 4:48:57
  but my friend pointed a trail that led in the right direction. It
• 4:49:03
  struck at once up the mountainside, which here bore a thin forest of the
• 4:49:07
  interesting knob cone pine Pinus tuberculata. The region had been burned over some few
• 4:49:15
  years before, with the result that most of the old trees were dead,
• 4:49:21
  but around them flourishing squads of pindlings were growing. These were already bearing cones,
• 4:49:27
  as if nature had hurried to forestore another fire, which, if it
• 4:49:33
  had come before the young trees bore their fruit would have ended their succession,
• 4:49:37
  for the species is peculiar in holding its cones unopened until fire destroys the tree,
• 4:49:45
  when the young seeds are liberated by the heat that kills the parent.
• 4:49:52
  This seemed a vivid illustration of Saint Paul's eloquent argument for the resurrection. The
• 4:49:59
  trail I had gradually become fainter, until near the summit of the first ridge
• 4:50:03
  it waved off into uncertainty and finally ran out. I tied Chino and beat
• 4:50:11
  about for half an hour, hoping to pick it up. But the depopulation
• 4:50:15
  of the canyon below had put the trail into disuse, and the industrious brush
• 4:50:22
  had quickly claimed its own. To south and west, I got glimpses of
• 4:50:27
  the ocean at a few miles distance, and on the other hand ran a
• 4:50:32
  maze of mountains and canyons far too steep and too heavily brushed to allow of
• 4:50:37
  our making across country. Leading Gino carefully along a sharp slope, I gained
• 4:50:44
  a connecting ridge that was sufficiently open on its summit for travel. It bore
• 4:50:49
  west, whereas I wished to go north, But I went on in hope
• 4:50:55
  of either striking a trail or finding more open country by which to drop to
• 4:51:00
  Coon Creek Canyon, where I knew there was a road coming at length to
• 4:51:06
  the end of the ridge. I found that it fell away steeply in the
• 4:51:10
  deep canyon that opened before me. I saw a tiny canyon and traces of
• 4:51:15
  cultivation. It was getting towards evening, and there was nothing for it but
• 4:51:21
  to go back, or to get down to the canyon where there would probably
• 4:51:23
  be a trail and almost certainly water. So leading Chino carefully by the bridle,
• 4:51:32
  we began the descent. It was a difficult piece of work, and
• 4:51:37
  not entirely without danger. Had I been alone, it would have been merely
• 4:51:41
  to fight my way through stiff brush down a steep hillside. But Chino,
• 4:51:45
  with his encumbrances, was in constant danger of losing his footing on the sharp,
• 4:51:52
  uneven slope, or getting snagged on some rock or stubborn elbow of greasewood
• 4:51:56
  or buckthorn. But the good horse behaved well, responding instantly to my voice
• 4:52:03
  and guidance, and by sundown we got safely down to the canyon. As
• 4:52:10
  I expected, I found a good stream and following it down, we soon
• 4:52:15
  came upon a faint trail which led to the cabin that I had seen from
• 4:52:18
  above. It was deserted and had fallen into the quick decay that overtakes man's
• 4:52:26
  abandoned outposts in the wilderness. A row of cypresses, a few starving vines,
• 4:52:33
  figs and apples, and a straggling rose bush seemed to show that a
• 4:52:37
  family, not some solitary settler, had here suffered defeat. It was far
• 4:52:44
  from being a cheerful spot, but it served our purpose well enough. I
• 4:52:49
  found good pasturage for Chino on a little sea naga or marshy spot beyond the
• 4:52:55
  creek, and supper and a rousing pine wood fire soon put me in happy
• 4:53:00
  mood. I spread my blankets among the old trees of the orchard and lay
• 4:53:06
  blinking at the darkening embers until the final blink came. That was prolonged until
• 4:53:12
  morning. We were early on the march, or to speak literally, on
• 4:53:18
  the scramble. I had figured out my whereabouts as closely as I could by
• 4:53:22
  map and compass, and decided that I must be on Diablo Creek, the
• 4:53:27
  stream next south of Coon Creek, which I must somehow reach before I should
• 4:53:33
  find a road. I prospected up the first one or two canyons, only
• 4:53:37
  to find that they soon changed their direction. Then came one that seemed more
• 4:53:42
  hopeful, though it was full of broken rock and boulders and hard on Chino's
• 4:53:47
  feet. I determined to try it. As I was leading him carefully among
• 4:53:52
  the rocks, I stepped close beside a rattlesnake that lay coiled among them.
• 4:53:59
  We had a lot engagement for a minute or two, but as I was
• 4:54:03
  not wearing my revolver, he was too discreet to come into the open.
• 4:54:07
  I had the mortification of seeing him slip into a cranny where neither shot,
• 4:54:12
  stick nor stone could reach him. I always feel unhappy when I failed to
• 4:54:18
  kill one of these detestable creatures. We made slow headway up the canyon,
• 4:54:25
  which soon degenerated into a gully. It grew very hot, for in this
• 4:54:30
  narrow place no breeze could reach us, and the rocks reflected the heat like
• 4:54:34
  firebrick. Once or twice it seemed impossible to go on, for Chino was
• 4:54:41
  slipping about every moment, and I was afraid he would fall and come to
• 4:54:45
  harm. But the galley continued in the right direction, and I hate turning
• 4:54:49
  back. During pauses for rest, I would sit upon a rock to study
• 4:54:56
  the map, while Chino looked on over my shoulder. Then we would discuss
• 4:55:02
  the situation somewhat. Thus, I interpret my horse's part by his demeanor,
• 4:55:07
  which was almost intelligent enough to amount to conversation. Gino, hang it,
• 4:55:14
  this can't be the trail, you know, I why not. It's not
• 4:55:18
  exactly a trail, Gino, But it heads the right way. Besides the
• 4:55:22
  map, GINO confound the map. I don't believe I uncle Sam's map,
• 4:55:27
  Gino, your uncle and mine. It must be right, you know,
• 4:55:33
  Gino. Well, but I it can't be much farther to the head of
• 4:55:37
  the canyon anyhow. And then GINO, well, but look I getting up.
• 4:55:44
  Now, Look here, my boy, we are going on up.
• 4:55:47
  So that's all about it, at least I am. You may stay where
• 4:55:51
  you are if you like, Gino. Aside, that'll never do. He
• 4:55:56
  pays the stable bills in town fairly enough, size heavily. Well, then
• 4:56:02
  all right, we'll take another shot at it. Come on, Governor.
• 4:56:07
  In this manner, we toiled along for perhaps two hours, and at length
• 4:56:11
  stumbled out from the canyon upon a flat where under a big oak were the
• 4:56:17
  traces of an old camp, probably of cattle men. On the hillside opposite,
• 4:56:22
  I saw, to my relief, faint but unmistakable signs of a trail.
• 4:56:29
  After an hour's rest, we made for it and followed it down long
• 4:56:33
  zigzags, here overgrown with brush, and there washed out by rains, until
• 4:56:37
  we emerged in a green valley which I knew must be Coon Creek Canyon.
• 4:56:45
  In a little shanty from which smoke was rising, I found an old Frenchman
• 4:56:49
  wood cutter sorting herbs into bundles. His first word was the most hospitable one.
• 4:56:56
  Are you hungry? I'll get you some dinner. I was glad to
• 4:57:00
  take a cup of coffee, which was still hot on the stove, and
• 4:57:04
  then learning that the road was close by, I struck into it. A
• 4:57:10
  comfortable ranch house stood at the junction, and seeing a man romping with a
• 4:57:14
  child by the open door, I went over to speak to him. When
• 4:57:18
  I had made sure of my whereabouts and explained my presence in that out of
• 4:57:22
  the way spot. The question again was have you had dinner? Well,
• 4:57:26
  come in, we're just sitting down. The family consisted of the handsome old
• 4:57:33
  man I had spoken to, a stallwart son and daughter in law, and
• 4:57:37
  two chubby, blue eyed children. I was made to feel as much at
• 4:57:41
  home as if I was a member of it myself. It proved that they
• 4:57:48
  were Irish, so I might add another nationality to the list of those from
• 4:57:52
  whom I had received a traveler's aid and comfort. Like the Apostle, I
• 4:57:59
  felt my soulf debtor, both to the Greeks and to the Barbarians. San
• 4:58:04
  Luibispo was still eight or ten miles away, and after the morning's work we
• 4:58:10
  traveled slowly. I walked, leading my tired horse and enjoying a sunset view
• 4:58:17
  out over the wide loss Osos Valley. Below me, a lake of milky
• 4:58:22
  cloud filled all the valley, extending westward to the coast and far out to
• 4:58:29
  sea. Above it stood up, black and ragged, the summits of a
• 4:58:33
  row of volcanic peaks, which gave a unique character to this locality. Beyond
• 4:58:41
  lay the main rounge of the Santa Lucia down near at hand, softly opalescent
• 4:58:48
  in evening light. About sundown, we arrived on the outskirts of the town,
• 4:58:53
  and I furnished diversion for the young fry of the place. As I
• 4:58:57
  hauled my tired steed along almost by main force to his quarters, my own
• 4:59:04
  were close to the mission, and at intervals of each day of the two
• 4:59:08
  or three I stayed here, I watched from my window the black shawled women
• 4:59:14
  hurrying to service. Once before, when I was in town, I had
• 4:59:18
  wandered into the old building, and, finding service in progress, had felt
• 4:59:23
  it good to kneel with the half dozen Mexican peons who shared the back seats
• 4:59:29
  with me. Somehow, the tires of a common humanity, and I hope
• 4:59:34
  a common humility, also seemed to me of more account than the differences momentous
• 4:59:41
  as I hold them to be between Rome and Canterbury. And when I watched
• 4:59:47
  those humble, black shawled, rather sad faced women going to their devotion,
• 4:59:52
  something brought to my mind the Carpenter's wife of Nazareth, and a phrase or
• 4:59:56
  two of that sweetest lyric of Holy Rich the loneliness of his handmaiden exalted them
• 5:00:04
  of low degree. The mission, itself, founded in seventeen seventy two,
• 5:00:11
  is not specially attractive, but contained some interesting matters. By the kindness of
• 5:00:18
  the priests. I got entrance into the old garden, a quiet square of
• 5:00:22
  old time flowers and arbored walks. The father told me that the Tuleranos or
• 5:00:30
  Indians of the interior valley, who came periodically to the coast to gather shellfish,
• 5:00:36
  still make their camp as of right in the mission grounds. I was
• 5:00:41
  glad to hear that in the eyes of his church, at least the Indian
• 5:00:45
  as yet some trifling rights beside his pauper's dole. I was at first staggered
• 5:00:52
  and then much amused by the bells of the mission as they called worshipers to
• 5:00:56
  the services. Imagine being awakened from normal slumbers by this preposterous ditty rung in
• 5:01:04
  a sort of jig time on bells, not remarkable for sweetness of tone.
• 5:01:11
  Reader's note here follows two lines of musical annotation in two full time end of
• 5:01:18
  reader's note, repeated four times and ending with three explosions for tissimo. This,
• 5:01:26
  it appears, is San luis traditional exhortation to his parishioners, performed as
• 5:01:33
  it was in quick time with a sort of idiotic excitement. It resembled the
• 5:01:38
  antics of marionettes and I could never hear it without a burst of laughter.
• 5:01:45
  A walk about the town, which is an old one by Western reckoning and
• 5:01:49
  contains some six thousand people, yielded a few attractive items. There is quite
• 5:01:56
  an air of old California remaining in the nooks and corner. Near the center
• 5:02:02
  of the town stands what was one of the best old adobe houses, now
• 5:02:06
  fallen to the uses of a Chinese laundry. Near By are a few fine
• 5:02:11
  olive and pear trees, and half hidden here and there among the stores are
• 5:02:17
  tall date palms and ancient prickly pears that mark the gardens of the old pueblo.
• 5:02:25
  The surrounding region has been the scene of labor of some notable bandits,
• 5:02:30
  and more than once it fell to the citizens of Saint Luis, as to
• 5:02:33
  those of many other Western towns, to take the execution of the laws into
• 5:02:38
  their own hands. In one year, I was told no less than eleven
• 5:02:45
  malefactors or supposed malefactors, were here summarily hanged. And a lady with whom
• 5:02:51
  I talked described how, on one occasion she herself a girl at the time,
• 5:02:56
  looking casually from her verandah had seen three bodies swinging in a row at
• 5:03:03
  the corner of the street. On leaving San luibispo I took a northwesterly road
• 5:03:10
  that led toward the coast. A sprinkle of rain was falling, but those
• 5:03:15
  little crossbowmen of God, the swallows, wheeling happily about in the upper air,
• 5:03:22
  prophesied fair weather. Though the heads of the rank of peaks that rose
• 5:03:26
  close by to the south were veiled in rolling mists. Both in color and
• 5:03:33
  outline, these mountains are very conspicuous. Each peak stands out isolated, staturesque,
• 5:03:40
  and finally unconventional. Broad cloudings of lichen in gray, ashy, green,
• 5:03:47
  and purple variegate the ragged blackness of their contours. Under that somber sky.
• 5:03:53
  They had a strange and antediluvian look. As they came near the third
• 5:03:59
  in order, called Cerro Romolado, it showed through the eddying cloud as a
• 5:04:03
  black volcanic cone, and to heighten its eery appearance, a company of buzzards
• 5:04:10
  were perched in the gaunt sycamores at its base as grim as Odin's ravens.
• 5:04:18
  On the other hand, lay the Santa Lucia's a long wall of fall and
• 5:04:22
  black belted at half its height with a level stratum of vapor. The valley
• 5:04:29
  had fully taken its summer hue of brown, but the foreground was tinged with
• 5:04:33
  the gold of dry wild oats. A few gray farms nestled among the gray
• 5:04:40
  rocks. On the gray mountainside. A colorless stream rattled over a stony gray
• 5:04:45
  bed. Gray moss trailed from the roadside oaks, and the sky was of
• 5:04:52
  that great elemental gray that stirs the Anglo saxon in one as sea spray would
• 5:04:59
  rouse of ice king in California. I never get enough of this finest of
• 5:05:03
  colors, and here I set my teeth for very joy. Even Chino felt
• 5:05:11
  the stimulus, tossed his head, pricked his ears, and broke voluntarily into
• 5:05:15
  a canter. From here northward for some hundreds of miles. The principal industry
• 5:05:22
  of the coast region is dairying, and the people engaged in it are mainly
• 5:05:26
  Italian Swiss. It was a surprise to me, and a rather unwelcome one,
• 5:05:33
  to find in what numbers these hardy and industrious folk have settled here.
• 5:05:38
  Unwelcome not from any dislike I have for the race, but because my intercourse
• 5:05:42
  with them has given me the impression that of all the various racial ingredients,
• 5:05:48
  the Italian will prove to be the most difficult to blend. When I was
• 5:05:53
  lingering near the remains of an old orchard to give Chino a chance to graze,
• 5:05:59
  a cloud of dust and a hilarious whooping told the approach of a bunch
• 5:06:03
  of cattle, they were convoyed by five cowboys in sombreros and chaps, who
• 5:06:10
  stopped to fraternize with a brother horsemen. They had been four days on their
• 5:06:15
  way down from the San Luis Rangers, and were loud and envy when they
• 5:06:18
  learned that I was two months out and still had more than half my journey
• 5:06:22
  before me. Two of them at once offered to trade jobs with me,
• 5:06:27
  without even waiting to hear the nature of my own business. When they understood
• 5:06:33
  this, they were urgent to accompany me, and thought they might be useful
• 5:06:37
  in working the picture box or even doing the poetry stunts. But finding that
• 5:06:44
  their beef was spreading over too wide a territory while we talked, they suddenly
• 5:06:48
  jerked their ponies round, and with blithe shouts of adios, jingled away in
• 5:06:53
  a whirlwind of dust. Evening was falling. When we came to the coat
• 5:07:00
  to the village of Morrow. The sun broke for a moment through the clouds
• 5:07:03
  in a sudden magnificence of Crimson painting a gorgeous belt along the horizon, and
• 5:07:11
  in purpling the great plain of ocean. Though all about me was still that
• 5:07:15
  nobler gray. Morrow's population sat at ease on doorsteps and packing boxes, watching
• 5:07:23
  a game of horseshoe koits. The stable man was, with great difficulty attached
• 5:07:30
  to attend on Chino, and I made a meal at a primitive restaurant,
• 5:07:34
  where the lads and lasses of the place performed on an adjoining rink to the
• 5:07:40
  strains of a phonograph. This pretty place is destined, I think, to
• 5:07:45
  be of more note than it is now. It lies at the northern point
• 5:07:49
  of a beautiful bay, three or four miles in length, and all but
• 5:07:52
  land locked. The sporting attractions are of the best, and the land would
• 5:07:59
  seen is very interesting, and the great rock el Morrow, which stands at
• 5:08:04
  the bay's mouth, gives nucleus and distinction to the whole. On leaving Morrow,
• 5:08:11
  I found myself definitely entertaining that little known stretch of mounting country, which
• 5:08:18
  borders the Pacific closely for a distance of about a hundred miles. For most
• 5:08:23
  of that distance there are no roads and few settlers, while the trails are
• 5:08:29
  rough, steep, and often so little traveled as to be difficult to follow.
• 5:08:34
  Further, no maps of the region were to be had. Many persons
• 5:08:38
  had told me that I should never get through without a guide, but it
• 5:08:42
  seemed to me that since water must be plentiful, and I could carry food
• 5:08:47
  enough for many days, there would be no particular hardship in the matter,
• 5:08:51
  even if I should get lost. My only fears were on Chino's account.
• 5:08:56
  The long trip had worn him down easily as we had traveled, and with
• 5:09:02
  all my care, the saddle had rubbed saws on the withers, which might
• 5:09:06
  render him unfit for use. While the question of feed would be a troublesome
• 5:09:11
  one for the wild forage was by now almost gone, and I could not
• 5:09:17
  rely on buying fodder from the scattered settlers. However, I could not afford
• 5:09:22
  to miss this fine piece of coast, so I resolved to go on,
• 5:09:26
  taking what chances there might be, and offsetting them as far as possible by
• 5:09:30
  special care. I got some general idea of the trails from people at Saint
• 5:09:37
  Louis, and had no doubt that we should get through the regulation. Sea
• 5:09:42
  fog lay thick upon the coast as we started northward to Seaward. The great
• 5:09:48
  rock loomed uncertainly, and the cries of unseen gulls came weirdly through the mist.
• 5:09:56
  Occasionally a field of beans would be seen near some farmhouse, occupied by
• 5:10:00
  Swiss, with all hands diligently hoeing not only men and boys, but women.
• 5:10:07
  I suppose to some people this would seem shocking, but I owned that
• 5:10:11
  it had a wholesome primitive look to me, and I could not see that
• 5:10:15
  civilization or even culture needed to quarrel with it. The houses were generally rough,
• 5:10:22
  too, but they had an air of country comfort, and there were
• 5:10:26
  plenty of trees about them. Here again, I may be retrograde, but
• 5:10:32
  I sometimes wonder whether the elegance of our days is not, in some insidious
• 5:10:37
  way a foe to true homemaking, and whether the modern American home, with
• 5:10:44
  its perfection of artistic and hygienic accessories, is quite the equal in value as
• 5:10:49
  regards the family idea of those simpler conceptions which our immigrants bring with them,
• 5:10:57
  though they seldom persist in the face first generation of American born. The road
• 5:11:03
  kept near the shore, and as the fog slowly lifted, I now and
• 5:11:07
  then caught glimpses of the Santa Lucia's now a soft mystery of blue shaded with
• 5:11:15
  milky skeins of mist. Eight miles and we came to Kayucos, a one
• 5:11:22
  street village lying in the bend of a rocky bay. While Chino lunched at
• 5:11:27
  the livery stable, I found a quaint little restaurant, whose Portuguese proprietor,
• 5:11:33
  on the mention of my meeting with his country minute point conception, shook my
• 5:11:37
  hand as earnestly as though I had done him a high favor, and could
• 5:11:41
  hardly be persuaded to take payment for my meal. A few miles farther,
• 5:11:48
  near Point a Stero, the road turned somewhat inland. It was again the
• 5:11:52
  delight to find myself among pines, this time of the Radiata species, whose
• 5:12:00
  southern limit of natural growth is this region. The tree is one of the
• 5:12:06
  handsomest of pines, especially notable for the full dark brilliance of its foliage and
• 5:12:14
  its manner of growth, and with that background of gray and silver sky,
• 5:12:18
  I was strongly reminded of the Scotch fir of my native land. From the
• 5:12:25
  top of a long steep ascent, I look down upon the compact little town
• 5:12:29
  of Cambria, lying pine encircled in a hollow of the hills. I have
• 5:12:36
  seldom seen a place more happily situated. A fine trappy stream, the Santa
• 5:12:42
  Rosa Creek, flows in a wooded canyon past the town, mingling its jaunty
• 5:12:48
  voice with the roar of the ocean near at hand. Though unseen in the
• 5:12:55
  gardens, palms compete with wonderful futures and the scent sational rose bushes of a
• 5:13:02
  tree like size. From its name and the fact that its mainstay is mining,
• 5:13:07
  principally for quicksilver, I expected to find the place Welsh, and indeed
• 5:13:14
  it has much of the physical air of a rainwashed Welsh town. I found,
• 5:13:18
  however, that, as with all the region, the pre pondering flavor
• 5:13:22
  is Swiss. I put up for the night at the comfortable hotel, and
• 5:13:29
  next morning we took our way again through the fragrant pine woods. On the
• 5:13:34
  top of the hill was a little cemetery, lying between sea and pines,
• 5:13:40
  and hushed by the voices of both. A bright, strong wind was blowing
• 5:13:45
  on this upland on one hand spread a brilliant green and purple sea, with
• 5:13:52
  the eternal fog bank lying in wait in the offing. On the other rose
• 5:13:56
  the mountains with great pines etched finely on the sky line. Where we came
• 5:14:03
  down to the shore, a camp of Japanese abaloney fishes had established themselves.
• 5:14:10
  Huge cauldrons were boiling on the beach, and a wide space near by was
• 5:14:15
  covered with the drying racks. Here, as at several other places, I
• 5:14:19
  found the men equipped with power launches and modern diving dresses. The camps were
• 5:14:25
  always neat and systematic, and everything complied with the national characteristic of thoroughness.
• 5:14:33
  The coast now curved to the pretty Bay of San Simon, fringed with islets
• 5:14:38
  of rock, round which the sea coiled in dazzling whiteness of spray. Along
• 5:14:45
  the cliff, large sea esters grew thickly with lavender loopins, yellow tarweed eschalotzias
• 5:14:52
  of that splendid deep orange that suggests the Arabian nights, or the colt of
• 5:14:57
  a hazarus, like sunshine filtered through silky curtains of crimson and gold. Inland,
• 5:15:07
  gray farms lay in beds and hollows of the mountains. Windshorn, oaks
• 5:15:12
  and laurels filled the narrower canyons, and whenever the road swung in to round
• 5:15:18
  the head of one of these, I found myself suddenly in a different world,
• 5:15:22
  among wild roses, ferns, blackberries, and phenomenal thickets, of course
• 5:15:30
  flowering weeds. We loitered along so easily among these various attractions that it was
• 5:15:37
  near evening before we came to the village of San Simeon. This once promising
• 5:15:41
  little port has dwindled under the caprices of fortune and local landowners, until now
• 5:15:48
  only one small coasting steamer calls unpunctually at its wharf. I found myself the
• 5:15:56
  only guest in a hotel that would have double the whole population with room to
• 5:16:02
  spare. But my host, an old main seaman and for twenty years in
• 5:16:07
  the lighthouse service on this coast, and his good Welsh wife, made amends
• 5:16:11
  by their friendliness for the physical drawbacks of the place. I rode out next
• 5:16:18
  day to visit the lighthouse at Piedras Blancus, six miles up the coast,
• 5:16:23
  our rattling breeze blew from the sea, and Chino, appreciating the freedom from
• 5:16:29
  saddle bags and blanket roll, let himself out at his best. On the
• 5:16:34
  way we passed the Piedros Blancus ranch house. I found this once fine old
• 5:16:41
  mansion, deserted and falling to ruin. Two ancient cypresses leaned mournfully against the
• 5:16:48
  verandah and seemed as though they were weeping. The crazy steps rocked under my
• 5:16:53
  feet, and some pigeons took flight through a broken window. The place looked
• 5:16:59
  like some faithful old retainer, left decrepid and pitiful by the death of his
• 5:17:04
  master. The lighthouse is a high, white tower, handsome and the most
• 5:17:11
  on this coast. I found there, beside the keepers a lot of frank
• 5:17:15
  eyed, frolicking children, whom from their dress I took to be all boys,
• 5:17:21
  until by chance I found it was otherwise. The spot is a lonely
• 5:17:26
  one, but there seems to be something in the nature of the lighthouse service,
• 5:17:30
  some spiritual ingredient that keeps its people hearty and wholesome. At Cambria,
• 5:17:37
  I met a young Welshman, owner of a large ranch in the mountains,
• 5:17:42
  and whose father had a dairy ranch near Piedras Blancus. I called on these
• 5:17:48
  good people on leaving Saint Simeon, and stayed a day or two with them,
• 5:17:52
  enjoying the cheerfulness of family life in three generations and the old world's simplicity
• 5:17:57
  of manners. No doubt a traveling Turk or Zulu would be welcomed in that
• 5:18:03
  house of kindness. But I could see that old gentleman's heart warm to me
• 5:18:10
  when I was able to give him bodied dye chewy good morning for a breakfast
• 5:18:15
  table greeting. This region must once have had a considerable population of Indians,
• 5:18:22
  though it now contains fewer than any other part of California. My host's vegetable
• 5:18:29
  garden was quite a museum of their relics. These stone or teros or grinding
• 5:18:34
  bowls come in handily as sockets for gate posts, And among the baby's toys
• 5:18:41
  was one of these in miniature, which are probably been fashioned by some Aboriginal
• 5:18:45
  parent as a plaything the little girl, perhaps an item in a doll set.
• 5:18:52
  One of the sons having business with a neighbor. A few miles up
• 5:18:55
  the coast accompanied me. When I started on my way, I was respectfully
• 5:19:00
  amused at the primitive appointments of the Piedras Blanca's school which we passed, which
• 5:19:07
  seemed to illustrate palace in all had chased severity. The schoolhouse was a tent
• 5:19:12
  of ten by twelve feet, and the furniture consisted of three small tables,
• 5:19:18
  evidently of kitchen antecedents, two plank benches, a chair and a desk for
• 5:19:23
  the teacher, a nail keg for an emergency scholar, a demi john for
• 5:19:30
  water with a tin cup, a square yard of blackboard, and a handful
• 5:19:33
  of books apparently fourth hand. It was a vacation season, and a trio
• 5:19:41
  of cows sniffed at the crannies in hope of scenting hay. The only sound
• 5:19:47
  beside the cry of plovers was the sober voice of that wise old teacher the
• 5:19:52
  sea thirty yards away. And I wondered whether it might not be instilling into
• 5:19:57
  those children of the lighthouse who come here for their simple schooling, some fine
• 5:20:03
  lesson of reverence, and wonder that one day may blossom into poetry or art.
• 5:20:11
  My companion's destination was a dairy ranch kept by two jolly young bachelor irishmen,
• 5:20:18
  one or two neighbors. Happening in we made a cosmopolitan dinner party,
• 5:20:22
  six nationalities among seven people. Gaiety and friendliness abounded equally with beans and home
• 5:20:30
  cured bacon. Again, there was nowithstanding the hospitable pressure to stay for the
• 5:20:38
  night. I shared my host's room, with the result that we talked so
• 5:20:42
  late that we hardly got to sleep when we were awakened by the cries of
• 5:20:48
  the vercaros as they brought the cattle into the corrals for the morning milking.
• 5:20:55
  Chapter thirteen. San Carpoforo Canyon, Oddities of pronunciation, more kind Mexicans,
• 5:21:03
  a mountain home, the pear orchard, a resting spell, the Santa Lucia
• 5:21:11
  fur, duality of climate, physical and pictorial aspects of the region. A
• 5:21:18
  hot climb crossing the crest, more great oaks, camp on the Nascimiento River.
• 5:21:27
  A delightful swim Sunday in camp. The trail lost intelligence of Chino,
• 5:21:37
  the San Antonio River, the village of Hollan, Indian music my classification.
• 5:21:45
  The fog, which had hardly lifted for two days past lay denser than ever
• 5:21:51
  over the coast. When about mid morning I rode away along the cliffs,
• 5:21:57
  I caught momentary glimpses of black fanglike rocks, among which the sea hissed and
• 5:22:03
  spouted in incessant uproar. From the cliff edge, the ground rose to a
• 5:22:10
  high, undulating horizon. Uncertainly seen between the wreaths of the fog, the
• 5:22:18
  country was treeless. Only low growing brambles, thistles and brackens sprinkled on the
• 5:22:22
  ground and mingled their faint wet odour with the strong smell of the sea.
• 5:22:30
  All concurred to bring up a vivid resemblance of the Downs and Moorlands of England.
• 5:22:34
  And how fancied I heard this seraphic voice of the skylark showering down impassioned
• 5:22:41
  joy from the firmament of gray. Gradually there grew before me the high wall
• 5:22:48
  of the sand copper Furrow Canyon, and a couple of miles brought me to
• 5:22:52
  its edge. This name suffers many variations. I have read it san Carpoco,
• 5:23:02
  San Carpoho, sanja Poco, and San harpojo, while in speech the
• 5:23:10
  changes are run on sancy poco and Sanchi pokey. It is not surprising that
• 5:23:15
  this modest saint should prove troublesome to lay men. And I had lately met
• 5:23:21
  with greater oddities of pronunciation at San Simeon, where I heard Piedras Blancus seriously
• 5:23:26
  referred to as Peter's blankets, and Arroyo Cruise, the name of a neighboring
• 5:23:33
  canyon as a royal cruise. The San Capefoo is deep, with a sandy
• 5:23:41
  bar and a roaring surface its mouth. I took the trail up the canyon,
• 5:23:47
  where a small stream wandered in a waste of brush and boulders, and
• 5:23:52
  after passing one or two deserted cabins, came at midday to a thrifty little
• 5:23:56
  Mexican farm gay with flowers and children. There was a smell of cooking in
• 5:24:02
  the air, and I inquired whether they could get me dinner. It was
• 5:24:07
  willingly done, and the meal was doubly enjoyable for the tokens of happiness and
• 5:24:11
  affection that abounded among them. When I asked what I owed for my entertainment,
• 5:24:18
  nothing signor, said the good woman. It was but a poor dinner
• 5:24:22
  that is worth nothing, And when I left it was with a chorus of
• 5:24:27
  Buena Fortuna. To keep the main coast trail, I should have crossed the
• 5:24:33
  canyon at its mouth and continued directly northward. I had two reasons, however,
• 5:24:40
  for wishing to make a divergence. One was to visit the mission of
• 5:24:45
  San Antonio, which lay on the other side of the coast range and could
• 5:24:48
  be reached by a trail that crossed the mountains at this point. The other
• 5:24:53
  to study a rare tree, the Santa Lucia fur Arbe's Noosta, which is
• 5:25:00
  found far up a few canyons of this range. I'd heard that a small
• 5:25:06
  group of them grew in the San Carpophoro, and the double object decided me
• 5:25:11
  to turn inland. After a few miles, the trail left the bottom of
• 5:25:17
  the canyon and climbed the northern wall. Scattered willows were exchanged for shady woods
• 5:25:22
  of oak and maple, with thick underbrush of wild cherry, bacheye and many
• 5:25:27
  other flowering shrubs. The fog had quite lifted by noon, but long before
• 5:25:33
  sundown, white scarves of vapor again floated in eddying in elbows of the canyon,
• 5:25:41
  or creeping with serpentine motion. Along the cliff like walls the opposite s
• 5:25:47
  armit, gaining an increased effect of height. From the belt of the fog
• 5:25:51
  rose like the wall of some legendary sky city. High up the north face
• 5:25:56
  of the canyon, I came upon the ranch of my friendly acquaintance of Cambria.
• 5:26:03
  It lies about midway up the western slope of the mountain, backed by
• 5:26:07
  a wood of fine oaks, and looking out over the deep rift of the
• 5:26:11
  canyon to a high ridge crusted with pines for situation, the spot is quite
• 5:26:18
  ideal, and its elevation of seventeen hundred feet, with its nearness to the
• 5:26:22
  sea, give it an unequaled climate. In the orchard I saw such diverse
• 5:26:29
  fruits as cherries, oranges, and butternuts, with many others, all growing
• 5:26:34
  in perfection. Again, it was Welsh hospitality to which I felt debtor.
• 5:26:41
  The evening sped with tales of sport, for which the antlers, skins,
• 5:26:47
  and other trophies that crowded the house furnished the texts. When I awoke at
• 5:26:53
  dawn next morning, I looked out from my bed under a maple, upon
• 5:26:57
  a spectral river of cloud that filled the canyon below me. As the sun
• 5:27:03
  rose, the vapor began to draw away in shreds and skeins of gray,
• 5:27:10
  and for an hour we were enveloped in the grateful moisture. Another hour and
• 5:27:15
  the sun burned us through a glass, while the fruit reddened almost as one
• 5:27:21
  watched it. Yet a pleasant coolness held in the shade. And now and
• 5:27:26
  then a snowy berg of cloud drifted lazily up the canyon to melt away as
• 5:27:33
  it reached the warm stratum of the upper air. There are the remains of
• 5:27:38
  an old orchard hereabout the origin of which is a mystery to the very few
• 5:27:44
  people who know of its existence. It lay near my route, and I
• 5:27:49
  turned aside to pay the visit. It goes by the name of the pear
• 5:27:55
  orchard. But I found only one pear tree remaining, and sharing the solitude
• 5:28:00
  with a score or so of hardy olives. By comparison of the size of
• 5:28:07
  these olives with others I have seen in the gardens of the missions, it
• 5:28:10
  seemed that they could hardly be less than a century old. While the pear
• 5:28:15
  was an oak like tree, the nestor of mortal pears, who were the
• 5:28:22
  planters of this secluded mountain, garden. I could only guess that, like
• 5:28:27
  the one I had found on the Hallama, it had been an outpost of
• 5:28:32
  one of the Franciscan missions and had been planted by the old Padres with the
• 5:28:37
  help of their Indians. But Padres and Indians alike have long vanished and left
• 5:28:44
  no successors to claim the fruit of this forgotten orchard. Chino's sore withers had
• 5:28:52
  become so troublesome that I resolved to cease traveling for a time while I dockted
• 5:28:57
  and rested him. A few miles up the canyon, I found a good
• 5:29:02
  place for the purpose, where a sia andaga provided abundance of pasturage, and
• 5:29:07
  there I made camp under a great oak beside the creek. I had provisioned
• 5:29:14
  for ten days or more, and there were plenty of trout in the stream.
• 5:29:18
  The sia and aga produced medicine as well as forage in the shape of
• 5:29:22
  the herb called by the Spaniards mass transia, an excellent remedy for such troubles
• 5:29:30
  as Chino's, either in horses or men. I was not sorry myself after
• 5:29:36
  two months in the saddle to stay for a time in this attractive place twice
• 5:29:41
  a day. I brought Chino in for medical parade. Otherwise there was nothing
• 5:29:45
  to interfere with a program of fishing, mending, botanizing in my humble way,
• 5:29:51
  or unadulterated loafing. About a mile from Camp, I found the group
• 5:29:56
  of furs I wished to study. They grow in a deep and narrow part
• 5:30:02
  of the canyon, and mostly on the northward facing slope, where little sun
• 5:30:06
  reaches them. I was greatly interested in meeting this rare tree, of which
• 5:30:11
  there are probably not more than a thousand or two living in shape. It
• 5:30:17
  is a typical fur, straight, spiry, and symmetrical, reaching a height
• 5:30:22
  of about eighty feet. The foliage is stiff, bright and sharp pointed,
• 5:30:29
  and the cone is unique for the long, bristly bracts that protrude from between
• 5:30:33
  the scales. The cones are produced only at the top of the tree,
• 5:30:38
  and it was a little trying to feel the slender leader bend almost to horizontal
• 5:30:44
  under my weight when I climbed to secure a few specimens. On the mountainside
• 5:30:49
  about Camp grew a scattering of digger pines Pinus sabiniana, becoming more numerous towards
• 5:30:56
  the summits. It was a mark of the particular duality of climate in this
• 5:31:02
  region that both the moisture loving fir and this drought loving pine find it suited
• 5:31:07
  to their contrary natures. The Yaka and the great golden Minzelia five feet high
• 5:31:17
  also flourished in the hotter slopes, the former surprised to meet in this latitude.
• 5:31:22
  I found that I had been largely mistaken in my forecast as to the
• 5:31:26
  physical features of this part of the coast range. I'd figured this western slope,
• 5:31:32
  where streams are numerous and summer fogs almost perpetual, as a region of
• 5:31:37
  rugged mountain bearing a heavy forest of coniferous trees, as being similar in fact
• 5:31:44
  to the corresponding slope of the Sierra Nevara, but with more of timber by
• 5:31:48
  region of the greater moisture of the summer climate. Instead of this, I
• 5:31:53
  found rising from the coast, steep but rounded hills of grass, only occasionally
• 5:32:00
  ridging up to rocky crests. Files of oaks grew in folds and hollows,
• 5:32:07
  and mingled with them in the deeper canyons were alders, sycamores, willows,
• 5:32:11
  and the fragrant California Laurel, otherwise known as myrtle, pepperwood, or bay.
• 5:32:19
  Farther north, I found the slopes steeper, the canyons deeper, are
• 5:32:23
  more wooded, and the crest of the range, which runs higher than here,
• 5:32:27
  densely forested. But there also the seaward slopes are rounded, grassed or
• 5:32:34
  brushy, and generally speaking scant of timber. Pictorially, the country I was
• 5:32:41
  now in is full of beauty and character. A more admirable contrast of colour
• 5:32:48
  could not be imagined than those massed slopes of quiet gold, gentle in contour
• 5:32:53
  but striking in height, imposing in length of range, and blotted by the
• 5:32:59
  class during oaks with islands of serious green. Especially, was it lovely at
• 5:33:07
  sunset, when the summer yellowed hills took a flush of rose. The long
• 5:33:11
  canyons were shadowed in purple, and even the uncompromising blue of the sky warmed
• 5:33:18
  to a tenderer glow of violet. The flat where I had my camp had
• 5:33:23
  once been homesteaded by a settler, one Heisel, whose memory is kept alive
• 5:33:30
  by the remains of his fireplace. It seemed natural that the last token of
• 5:33:36
  our home loving German, as I take him to have been should be his
• 5:33:41
  chimney. My blankets were spread under a small oak nearby, and I made
• 5:33:47
  a point of smoking my evening pipe beside the old pile of stones, round
• 5:33:51
  which I guess his own tobacco smoke must often have dded. I had been
• 5:33:57
  nearly two weeks in camp, and it had come to mid August. My
• 5:34:03
  supplies had almost run out, and Sheino's pasturage was becoming scanty, but his
• 5:34:08
  sores were looking well, and it seemed safe, as well as necessary,
• 5:34:12
  to move on. When it came to starting, I became conscious again how
• 5:34:18
  quickly any place of abode, camp, no less than cottage, engages man's
• 5:34:23
  instinct for a home. My heart fell a little as I took a last
• 5:34:30
  look around the little clearing, and I waved my hand sentimentally to the oak
• 5:34:34
  that had been my green Caravanserai. Not with Gino, who marched off so
• 5:34:42
  cheerfully that it was plain he suffered no pensive emotions. I got such instructions
• 5:34:49
  as I could regarding the trail across the mountains. It is so little traveled
• 5:34:55
  that only twice during my fortnight in camp had anybody passed along. But it
• 5:35:00
  is well marked and in some places worn deeply into the earth. I suspect
• 5:35:07
  indeed that it may have been in mission days the trail to the old orchard
• 5:35:11
  which I have mentioned, and that it was from the firs in the canyon
• 5:35:15
  called Arbolus day Incensio by the Spaniard, that the fathers at San Antonio procured
• 5:35:22
  the aromatic gum for incense. The trail laid steeply up the mountainside to the
• 5:35:30
  northeast. There was a hot sun, and the warm wind from the interior
• 5:35:33
  valleys brought more distress than refreshment. I had saddled Chino with special care to
• 5:35:40
  avoid chafing, and with a view to his comfort, had packed the load
• 5:35:44
  on the saddle as I intended to lead him. I did not fill my
• 5:35:48
  canteen, as I relied upon finding water where I crossed the creek higher up.
• 5:35:55
  But at the first crossing it was quite dry, and at the second
• 5:35:59
  only only a couple of slimy pools remained among the boulders. These Chino promptly
• 5:36:06
  drank dry. After two hours of pretty strenuous climbing, we came to the
• 5:36:11
  crest of the ridge, from which I looked out over a wilderness of low
• 5:36:15
  ranges, colored here in dark bands of chemise, there in golden slopes of
• 5:36:21
  grass thinly stippled with oaks and digger pines. I made a hasty lunch,
• 5:36:27
  for I had no very clear idea of the distance to the Nescimiento River,
• 5:36:33
  where I intended to camp, and which would probably be the first water WI
• 5:36:37
  should strike. Then, with a regretful glance back to the west at its
• 5:36:44
  cool fog curtain, we plunged down the landward slope. The sun beat down
• 5:36:51
  with trying fervor. The trail was rough and difficult with brush, and the
• 5:36:56
  shade was at an impossible premium. A couple of miles down, I found
• 5:37:02
  the remains of a settler's house and explored for water, but without success.
• 5:37:08
  An hour or more of rough going brought us to a wide glade wooded with
• 5:37:12
  oaks of unusual size and beauty. They were the great valley oak of California,
• 5:37:18
  the robler of the Spaniards. The species was well known to me,
• 5:37:25
  but nowhere else have I seen it reach the stateliness of these superb trees.
• 5:37:30
  The huge white trunks and fountain like flow of branches had a sort of Greek
• 5:37:37
  perfection. One could easily understand why, if Greece has such oaks as these,
• 5:37:44
  they were held sacred to Zeus. Here were the remains of a house,
• 5:37:49
  and I searched again for water, for I was getting pretty thirsty.
• 5:37:53
  But the cracked troughs in the old corral gave notice that I need not expect
• 5:37:59
  to fire hind any and seemed to hint at the reason for the abandonment of
• 5:38:03
  this handsome homestead. A short distance beyond this place, the trail emerged at
• 5:38:11
  a divide, and I saw with relief the canyon of the Nacimiento lying below,
• 5:38:18
  with one pool of blue water shining among its sun bleached boulders. The
• 5:38:23
  opposite wall was a high, perpendicular bluff of purple red rock barren. Except
• 5:38:29
  for a few spectral digger pines that grew in crannies or leaned in languid attitudes
• 5:38:34
  on the summit. It was an unusual landscape, and one worthy of particular
• 5:38:40
  notice. That I was too tired and thirsty to enjoy it, and hurried
• 5:38:45
  on to get down to the stream. The trail descended at the north side
• 5:38:49
  of the canyon, and by evening we debouched at river level into a valley
• 5:38:56
  of grass, oaks, and pines. Awarding the river. We went into
• 5:39:00
  camp among the willows on the farther bank. I was amused to see the
• 5:39:06
  puny size of the stream, For at Cambria, i'd heard a ranchman describe
• 5:39:11
  how he had nearly lost his life in swimming it with his horse three months
• 5:39:15
  before, and I had intended to use caution in fording it. Such are
• 5:39:22
  the vagaries of Californian rivers. There was a deep pool, almost land locked,
• 5:39:27
  close to camp, and to this, after supper, I repaired for
• 5:39:32
  a swim. I do not know when I have enjoyed one so much.
• 5:39:37
  The water was crystal clear and perfect in temperature. White sand formed the bottom.
• 5:39:45
  One side was fringed with small cotton woods, and the other, where
• 5:39:49
  the water was deepest, was walled directly by the dark perpendicular rock, from
• 5:39:55
  the crevices of which waved fringes of delicate ferns. The moon was nearly full,
• 5:40:03
  but it was not yet an hour past sunset, and the day hovered
• 5:40:07
  on that quiet border land where one can hardly tell shadows from thoughts. A
• 5:40:14
  pale flicker of moonlight caught the ridges of water that flowed about me as I
• 5:40:18
  swam slowly to and fro, and once a water snake slipped noiselessly away before
• 5:40:26
  me, the little black head rippling the water into lines of pallid silver.
• 5:40:33
  After the heat and thirst of the day, I felt half inclined to sleep
• 5:40:37
  in that delicious pool. Then I gathered a good supply of fuel and spent
• 5:40:44
  a luxurious evening in company with a small but loquacious fire. To Morrow would
• 5:40:51
  be Sunday, and we should not travel. I was glad that it occurred
• 5:40:56
  that I would pass a day by the stream which I had long wished to
• 5:40:59
  see. Even the name seemed to invest it with a special charm. I
• 5:41:04
  take it to have been a religious reference, and the association of the Holy
• 5:41:10
  Birth with the quietude and beauty of nature that reigned in this lonely spot seemed
• 5:41:15
  very happy. I suppose there was not a human being within ten miles of
• 5:41:21
  me in any direction. I awoke next morning in time to catch a coyote
• 5:41:26
  nosing at the saddle bags which I had hung in the fork of a willow
• 5:41:30
  tree twenty yards from my sleeping place. A shot from my revolver sent him
• 5:41:36
  scurrying. The morning was passed in camp in hope of offsetting the maximum of
• 5:41:42
  heat by a minimum of exertion. In the afternoon, a trifling breeze wandered
• 5:41:51
  up the canyon, and I spent some hours in trying to prospect out tomorrow's
• 5:41:55
  trail among the tangle of cattle paths that crossed and reac converged and diverged all
• 5:42:02
  over the country. It was annoying to find, after several miles of tramping,
• 5:42:08
  that what had seemed to be the principal trail led again to the river,
• 5:42:14
  by which I knew that it was not the one I wanted. In
• 5:42:18
  the end, I resolved to ignore them all and strike across country by compass.
• 5:42:23
  It was evening when I got back to camp, and the air was
• 5:42:26
  full of the cooing of doves and the wick of their wings as they flew
• 5:42:33
  to and from the river. Once when I went downstream, I saw for
• 5:42:38
  the first time the great American egret Heredotius egretta, unmistakable in its snowy beauty,
• 5:42:47
  though not now wearing the bridal plumes that have almost brought the species to
• 5:42:52
  extermination. I noticed also the walk to mark of the spring rains in the
• 5:42:56
  drift that had lodged in branches filled fifteen feet above the present level, and
• 5:43:03
  could better appreciate the risk in swimming such a torrent, nearly a furlong wide
• 5:43:07
  and full of hidden traps and dangers. I was up next morning by moonlight,
• 5:43:15
  and after breakfast doctor Chino's soar, which had become inflamed again by the
• 5:43:18
  heat and the climb of Saturday. I saddled him with all possible care,
• 5:43:25
  again arranging his load with a view to leading instead of riding him. Then
• 5:43:30
  we both drank deeply at the creek and started with a full canteen. I
• 5:43:36
  had no map of the region, for there is a gap of one hundred
• 5:43:38
  miles or so here in the maps of the geological survey. But I gaged
• 5:43:44
  the direction of Holan, my objective point in the San Antonio Valley, to
• 5:43:48
  be nearly due north, and believed I could trust the compass better than one
• 5:43:53
  or two doubtful landmarks of which I had been told. The country ran and
• 5:44:00
  in interminable low hills or lowmos as monotonous and about as vacant of recognizable features
• 5:44:07
  as a tract of ocean. But it was pretty open and only cut by
• 5:44:11
  shallow gullies from which the water had vanished, leaving a sickly white incrustation of
• 5:44:18
  alkali. Among these. We threaded our way hour after hour without much difficulty,
• 5:44:25
  while I looked carefully at every trail we crossed for marks of horses hoofs,
• 5:44:30
  but saw nothing but the tracks of cattle, coyotes, and deer,
• 5:44:34
  except once when a bear's heavy imprint was stunk into the baked clay of a
• 5:44:38
  dry arroyo. Chino was in unresponsive mood. Though I tried to interest him
• 5:44:45
  in various topics. I am sure that by now he understood much of what
• 5:44:51
  I said to him. Naturally, I did not choose such matters as politics
• 5:44:55
  or the price of pig iron for discussion, but to such sentiments as tune,
• 5:45:00
  O, my boy, we're doing handsomely, aren't we. Or what
• 5:45:03
  do you say to taking five minutes for cooling off, old fellow, I
• 5:45:07
  am sure he responds understandingly. While when I attempt something humorous as well,
• 5:45:14
  old chap, I don't see the domes and minarets of hold On on the
• 5:45:18
  horizon yet, do you, He replies with something that comes as near a
• 5:45:22
  smile as it is possible to the equine countenance. Nature in framing this best
• 5:45:30
  of quadrupeds, seems very judiciously to have put the humorous ingredient at a minimum.
• 5:45:37
  It will be unfortunate if the horse were so constrained as to care as
• 5:45:41
  much as the terrier. For instance, for practical joking between the two of
• 5:45:45
  them, it seems to be a question whether the horse or the dog is
• 5:45:49
  to be the first to surprise his master some fine day not far ahead by
• 5:45:53
  bringing out the epoch making words good morning. We had been steadily marching northward
• 5:46:02
  for several warm hours when the cattle paths we were on began spontaneously to develop
• 5:46:07
  symptoms of wheel tracks, which grew imperceptibly from nothing and nowhere. The trail
• 5:46:15
  widened gradually into an unmistakable road which layed on the whole In the right direction.
• 5:46:22
  It ascended a long, winding canyon through sparse timber, emerging at last
• 5:46:26
  upon a river which I knew must be the San Antonio, while beyond the
• 5:46:32
  low range of hills to the east must lie the wide valley of the Salinas.
• 5:46:38
  Then came a fence at which novel sight Chino stepped out with more enthusiasm
• 5:46:45
  the stream was almost dry, but under the bank I found a little trickle
• 5:46:49
  of water, and we took an hour for lunch and rest. A mile
• 5:46:56
  beyond the river, I saw a ranch house in the distance, and knew
• 5:47:00
  by the flutter of linen that it was inhabited. A young woman answered my
• 5:47:06
  hail by opening a window six inches to my inquiry whether I was on the
• 5:47:11
  road to holand she replied curtly yes, and the distance a mile. And
• 5:47:18
  with that the window was slammed down and she vanished. This was somewhat chilling
• 5:47:23
  demeanor from the first human being I had seen for nearly a fortnight, but
• 5:47:27
  the news of my whereabouts was welcome enough. We were soon on the main
• 5:47:33
  road, and by evening entered the village and put up a rustic inn,
• 5:47:37
  where Chino tasted once again the comforts of a stable, and I of feminine
• 5:47:42
  cookery and housekeeping. Holan is a primitive place, though not an old one.
• 5:47:51
  It lies twenty miles from the railway, but on a road which has
• 5:47:53
  a fair amount of travel. A dozen times a day an automobile charge is
• 5:48:00
  through, with passengers goggling through the clouds of dust to catch those flying glimpses,
• 5:48:06
  which seemed to satisfy the people who like that way of seeing the country.
• 5:48:11
  The village consists of two store and hotel combinations, a church seldom used,
• 5:48:18
  a school, three saloons, and about as many small residences. A
• 5:48:22
  sound of strumming came continually from one or other of the saloons, where two
• 5:48:27
  stolid Indian youths on violin and mandolin sat playing songs intermission, the simple and
• 5:48:36
  rather joyless airs to which generations of their people have danced or shuffled. They
• 5:48:41
  played in an oddly mechanical fashion, giving no least token of pleasure in their
• 5:48:47
  occupation, but sawing and picking away in a poor, dull way that seemed
• 5:48:52
  pathetically to illustrate their racial attitude towards life. A little creek, a branch
• 5:48:59
  of the San Antonio runs through the village, and his vocal all day with
• 5:49:03
  plovers, while trios and quartets of codyes wise beyond the range of poison or
• 5:49:11
  rifle perform in the dusk of dawn and evening. Holan promptly adjudged me to
• 5:49:18
  be a prospector, and the classification held good until the following noon, when
• 5:49:22
  my landlord approached me with a sample of rock and requested a diagnosis. I
• 5:49:29
  saw that he disbelieved me when I said I could not tell quartz from quicksand,
• 5:49:33
  but was convinced when I declared his specimen to be volcanic putty, which
• 5:49:37
  it certainly resembled on the score of my mc clellan's saddle. I was next
• 5:49:44
  placed in the Forestry Service, and as no occasion arose for disturbing that idea,
• 5:49:48
  I suppose it remained for the rest. I noted that the dialect of
• 5:49:53
  Holan is rather above, rather than below the Western standard in a mountain quality
• 5:50:00
  of profanity, and that days when the thermometer registers one hundred odd degrees are
• 5:50:06
  pronounced by Holonians to be agreeable. Chapter fourteen, Farewell Chino, enter anton
• 5:50:17
  Camp at the Mission of San Antonio de Padua. Crows, ants, swallows
• 5:50:22
  and codis, Spanish hospitality and family affection, Dog versus skunk, digger,
• 5:50:30
  pines, recrossing the Cress, Santa Lucia Peak, Los Borrow's Mining Settlement,
• 5:50:40
  A voluble box lid delightful trail entering the redwoods, the coast again, bold
• 5:50:48
  scenery, Pacific Valley, A lonely ranch striking it rich the weekly Male.
• 5:50:59
  My only regret in leaving Holan was that there I said farewell to my good
• 5:51:03
  Chino. The roughness and heat of the journey over from the San Carpaforo had
• 5:51:11
  resulted in inflaming his withers again, and so badly it would be at least
• 5:51:17
  two weeks before he could be fit for the troublesome peace of country that lay
• 5:51:21
  ahead. I had noticed in the hotel stable a well built saddle horse,
• 5:51:27
  a little heavier than Chino, of a color between buckskin and sorrel, and
• 5:51:33
  showing that dark stripe along the back, which is recognized by experts in horseflesh
• 5:51:38
  as a mark of superior toughness. From the fact that he had last belonged
• 5:51:45
  to a forest ranger, and also from the remarkable variety of brands he carried,
• 5:51:49
  I judged that he must be used to roughing it, and when on
• 5:51:53
  a trial canter he proved to be free and lively without undue nervousness, I
• 5:52:00
  decided on the change. It went much against the grain to part with this
• 5:52:06
  loyal companion of several expeditions by California shore, desert and mountain, But the
• 5:52:12
  summer was getting late, and I was only about halfway to my goal.
• 5:52:17
  So that I must not lose any more time. If I was to finish
• 5:52:21
  the trip before the rainy season set in, a trade was arranged. I
• 5:52:26
  filled my pockets with Chino's preferred dainties, paid him a final visit, and
• 5:52:32
  left him munching my valedictory apples with so much indifference that poignant regret on my
• 5:52:38
  own side seemed superfluous. It was mid afternoon when I started with my new
• 5:52:45
  acquisition, whom I named anton by way of reference to the San Antonio Valley
• 5:52:51
  in which Holan is situated. For the Mission of San Antonio. The road
• 5:52:57
  lay up a pleasant valley of oaks. A somnolent haze overhung the landscape and
• 5:53:04
  deepened the tone of the distant mountains to densest purple. The nearer hills rose
• 5:53:11
  in RESTful shapes, dotted with brush and crested with phantasmal digger pines. These
• 5:53:19
  trees have almost the air of a mirage. So thin and unsubstantial do they
• 5:53:25
  appear. At the north end of the valley, where the hills close together.
• 5:53:30
  I came to the mission. It stands ruined and solitary on the east
• 5:53:36
  bank of the river and looking down the sunny, oak filled valley. In
• 5:53:41
  situation, it was perhaps the happiest of all the missions, but like nearly
• 5:53:48
  all the others, it has suffered from both spoilation and neglect, and the
• 5:53:53
  beauty of its setting seems only to accent the desolation of its decay. The
• 5:54:00
  remains show the total enclosure to have been of great extent, and history gives
• 5:54:06
  it as one of the most prosperous and important of all the chain. The
• 5:54:11
  church, which has lately been partly repaired, is a lofty, barn like
• 5:54:15
  structure with no remaining traces of interior decoration or furnishing, and the walls are
• 5:54:22
  horribly defaced by the name scratching insanity of sightseers. The facade, built of
• 5:54:30
  the durable mission tiles is still beautiful in its tasteful simplicity, and a few
• 5:54:36
  skeleton arches of the quadrangle are standing, but the bells have long since disappeared.
• 5:54:44
  Instead of vesper chime, the air was raked by the strident voices of
• 5:54:48
  many crows disputing after their wont over the choice roosts in the cottonwoods. It
• 5:54:57
  needed a more violent effort of f fancy that I was capable of to hear
• 5:55:02
  in the shouts of these pirates the songs of praise which poets think they detect.
• 5:55:10
  In pleasant contrast, Saint Antony's swallows happiest dispositions of birds, were thrilling
• 5:55:15
  with evening joy, and seemed to weave a charm of communal friendliness and content
• 5:55:22
  about the old crumbling building. Hard by the church stand a few indomitable pears
• 5:55:30
  and olive trees, as thrifty as though not a year had passed since the
• 5:55:36
  last of the padres of San Antonio forsook his hopeless charge. A broken rank
• 5:55:45
  of pomegranates marks the boundary of the old garden, their uncompromising green and scarlet,
• 5:55:51
  quite out of harmony with every other element of the scene. A small
• 5:55:56
  building of adobe one hundred yards away was interesting, as showing the early California
• 5:56:02
  method of roofing. The heavy rafters and ceiling beams were still held in place
• 5:56:08
  by raw hide lashings. Layers of tuleys were placed on the rafters, and
• 5:56:15
  on these rested the heavy red tiles. I later learned that the building had
• 5:56:22
  been the mission jail. I made camp in a brook that ran in a
• 5:56:26
  hollow behind the church, but had fancy for sleeping among the olives, a
• 5:56:32
  fancy for which I paid tribute to a spiteful colony events coyotes sympathetically shared my
• 5:56:41
  vigil. I slept uneasily and was awaked in ample time to receive their adieus
• 5:56:48
  as they stole away to cover at dawn. These animals are very numerous in
• 5:56:52
  this locality, and as I rode away in the afternoon, I noticed the
• 5:56:57
  carcasses of several of them hung to the limbs of the trees, for example,
• 5:57:03
  to the rest. Some of my Spanish friends in the south had recommended
• 5:57:08
  me to relatives of Theirs who lived near Holan. I found them living a
• 5:57:15
  few miles from the mission, and was received in the kindest manner and made
• 5:57:18
  welcome to stay at the house. It was a good example of the ranch
• 5:57:23
  house of earlier days, a substantial adobe, broad of verandahs and shady with
• 5:57:30
  locusts, almonds and clustering roses. There was an orchard of fine old trees
• 5:57:37
  and a well of specially soft water, to which the young beauties of the
• 5:57:41
  neighborhood were woke to resort on. Sundays, a dozen in a bevy to
• 5:57:45
  wash their dusky tresses. It would make a pretty sight the row of girls
• 5:57:52
  with locks disheveled, sitting in the sun beside the tamarisk hedge, laughing over
• 5:57:59
  the gallant trees of young Ottuo's and Roberto's and laying trains of harmless malice for
• 5:58:04
  firing at the next fandango. Here again, it was most pleasant to see
• 5:58:11
  the family affection to which I have preferred on previous pages as a noticeable feature
• 5:58:15
  of Spanish and Mexican life. Little Julio and Adriano and Ingrathia came clambering about
• 5:58:25
  their genial giant of a father, calling him by his pet name of Tito,
• 5:58:30
  and the senora might have sat as a model for the picture of a
• 5:58:34
  happy wife. A brother of my entertainer happening in I was carried off to
• 5:58:41
  spend a day or two at his house ten miles up country. We rode
• 5:58:45
  the whole distance through unbroken oak forest, and the house, set at the
• 5:58:51
  foot of a wooded hill and on the bank of the San Antonio River,
• 5:58:56
  occupies a position that might be coveted by millionaires. Deer and quail are plentiful.
• 5:59:03
  The river abounds with trout, and even salmon spearing is no rarity.
• 5:59:07
  The Verandah was a sort of epitome of California sports. Donia Petronella was bound
• 5:59:15
  that I should taste all the delicious Spanish dishes at their best. Both husband
• 5:59:22
  and wife were full of interesting conversation on matters now passed away and altogether.
• 5:59:27
  One of the most agreeable episodes of that whole journey was the two days I
• 5:59:33
  passed in that tasteful home. From here I was to cross the mountains again
• 5:59:38
  to the coast. My host accompanied me a mile or two to put me
• 5:59:44
  on the trail. A couple of the dogs came with us in hope of
• 5:59:48
  some interesting incident, which came when my companion spied us skunk, which he
• 5:59:55
  shot from the saddle. The dogs rushed off joyfully to do their part,
• 6:00:00
  and received a full volley of the particular skunk artillery at close range. It
• 6:00:07
  was intensely comic to see their frantic disgust and the vain attempt they made to
• 6:00:14
  rub, scratch, scrub, drown, or outrun the vile legacy bequeathed them
• 6:00:21
  by the innocent little Mepidis Americana. At the place where the coast trail crosses
• 6:00:27
  the river. My friend said good bye and turned back while I struck up
• 6:00:33
  the mountain. Diger pines were numerous and came as near to forming a forest
• 6:00:40
  as this singular species ever attains. It is the most shadeless of trees.
• 6:00:45
  There may seem to be a fair density of foliage, but the sun somehow
• 6:00:49
  gets through all the airy tassels with hardly any loss of power, and the
• 6:00:55
  ground below shows only the faintest tone of gray. This peculiarity was again impressed
• 6:01:03
  upon me as I led my horse up the steep mountain side under a sun
• 6:01:07
  of semi desert heat. And it was with relief that, on reaching the
• 6:01:12
  first high ridge, I saw a few miles to the west the blue of
• 6:01:17
  substantial forest, and beyond the familiar white band of fog overhanging the Pacific.
• 6:01:26
  Reaching at length and altitude where the finer yellow pines began, we halted for
• 6:01:30
  rest. Far to the north. I could distinguish Santa Lucia Peak, the
• 6:01:37
  culminating point of the range, cart in a band of solid purple on the
• 6:01:41
  fainter blue of the sky. As we crossed the next divide. There opened
• 6:01:47
  suddenly a full view to the west. A huge canyon fell away abruptly from
• 6:01:52
  where I stood. The northward facing slope draped darkly in forest, the southward
• 6:02:00
  in lighter brown of chemise, and the seaward opening filled with a gleaming barrier
• 6:02:06
  of fog that broke here and there into curling waves of vapor. A cool
• 6:02:12
  wind blew from the ocean, and I hailed with pleasure the return to coast
• 6:02:18
  conditions of climate. Now came a long descent through fragrant forest of pine spruce
• 6:02:27
  and madrono. It was evening when we came to a point where a side
• 6:02:33
  trail led down to the mining settlement of Los Boros. A mile brought us
• 6:02:38
  to the village, where we found accommodation at a quaint little hutch of a
• 6:02:42
  place kept by a German whose quiver was not only full, but bursting with
• 6:02:48
  tow headed, chattering children. The mines are not of great importance, but
• 6:02:55
  at least they have disproved the belief that was for a long time prevalence that
• 6:03:00
  this part of California was barren of gold. It was a strange sight that
• 6:03:07
  I saw next morning, when we had climbed out of the hollow in which
• 6:03:11
  Los Burrows lies, and I looked out to the west. The fog was
• 6:03:17
  not far below me, and I seemed to stand between two firmaments, the
• 6:03:22
  blue of the upper and the gray of the lower. Sky Around me sprayed
• 6:03:27
  a stratum of landscape in brilliant sunlight, with Santa Lucia Peak glowing like an
• 6:03:33
  opal in its setting of sumptuous pine foliage. At a little cabin beside the
• 6:03:41
  trail, I paused to read a notice that had been inscribed on a box
• 6:03:45
  lid, apparently with a red hot nail. In fervor of composition. It
• 6:03:51
  suggested the agony column with a touch of Flora Caspi in little dorrit thrown in.
• 6:03:57
  This is how it read. Notice The bond will be taken up.
• 6:04:03
  This is gold ridge, and don't you forget it, sir mines to bond
• 6:04:08
  all the famous mother load, free milling quartz, cyonading ore and placid ground
• 6:04:14
  on the famous Spruce Creek, biggest bar, famous nugget node at head of
• 6:04:18
  Spruce Creek. Above it terms reasonable inquire Right here the house appeared to be
• 6:04:26
  vacant, but I did not care to risk meeting the voluble dealer in prospects,
• 6:04:32
  and hurried away. That morning's trail was the most delightful I had experienced
• 6:04:38
  on the trip. Winding down the forested mountain sides among yellow pines, oaks,
• 6:04:44
  and madronos, the ground was all ashy, rose with the fallen leaves
• 6:04:51
  of the last named tree, and was like one of those wonderful old Persian
• 6:04:55
  rugs. Across the canyon, the mountains rose in deep slopes of faded gold,
• 6:05:02
  laced here and there with dark piles of timber, and beyond the distant
• 6:05:07
  back ranges receded in varying tones of blue. The fog was slowly drawing out
• 6:05:15
  to sea, and suddenly, as if a curtain were partly lifted, I
• 6:05:21
  could look beneath the sheet of dazzling cloud and see the crinkled water a thousand
• 6:05:26
  feet below, leaden in the shadow of the dense vapor. A short distance
• 6:05:33
  up the coast cape San Martin stood sharply out a line of surf, marking
• 6:05:41
  where the great shoulder of mountain plunged into the ocean. At the bend of
• 6:05:47
  the trail, I noticed a cluster of slender pyramids rising among the pines,
• 6:05:52
  dressed with close feathery plumes. They were redwoods Sequoia saverans, no less beautiful
• 6:06:02
  and hardly less wonderful than their cousins, the giant trees of the Sierra Nevada.
• 6:06:10
  I was now entering upon the territory of this exclusive tree, which grows
• 6:06:15
  nowhere but in the fog belt of the coast from here to the northern limit
• 6:06:19
  of the state. I greeted it with enthusiasm, forecasting the many delightful days
• 6:06:26
  during which I should be in its companionship. If there had been pasturage available,
• 6:06:33
  I would have celebrated the meeting with a knight and a camp fire.
• 6:06:37
  But the best I could do was to decorate my sombrero and Anton's bridle with
• 6:06:42
  sprigs of the handsome foliage. The trees had been cut a few years before,
• 6:06:48
  and I noticed the vigorous growth of saplings that encircle each great stump.
• 6:06:55
  One may often see a number of trees growing thus in a complete ring,
• 6:07:00
  marking the circumference of some vanished monster. No tree yields better returns to intelligent
• 6:07:07
  methods of forestry than this one, as valuable for its uses as it is
• 6:07:14
  splendid in its growth. The trail descended for mile after mile through this charming
• 6:07:21
  woodland, issuing at last on the shore at the mouth of Willow Creek.
• 6:07:26
  Here the fog again enveloped us in its cool embrace. I gathered this was
• 6:07:33
  Anton's first introduction to the sea, for he halted and gazed at it with
• 6:07:37
  deep attention, headcocked slightly sideways, as I found to be his habit on
• 6:07:44
  encountering a novelty. Close by the place where Willow Creek flows out is the
• 6:07:51
  prominent headland generally known as Point Gorder, there being two other capes of the
• 6:07:56
  name in California, and this one has officially being named Cape San Martin.
• 6:08:03
  The point forms the southern arm of Rocky Bay, on which the westering sun
• 6:08:07
  now shone palely, half veiled by the vapor there was again beginning to creep
• 6:08:14
  inland. The fog movement on this coast during summer is almost as regular as
• 6:08:19
  the swing of the tides, and the long canyons running east and west act
• 6:08:25
  like funnels for the constant interchange of air between sea and land. The shore
• 6:08:33
  here, as all along this mountain walled coast, is bald and scenic,
• 6:08:38
  fringed everywhere, with islets about which the water coils and lurches in unceasing turmoil.
• 6:08:47
  I cannot imagine a more alluring yachting ground than this one hundred mile reach
• 6:08:52
  of lonely water, with its barrier of summer gold or winter emeralds. And
• 6:08:57
  in the coming era of air trae travel, one of the inducements held out
• 6:09:02
  to tourists by the Pacific Coast Aerial Transportation Company will certainly be the unrivaled panorama
• 6:09:10
  of the Santa Lucia Chain of mountains, rearing its glowing rampart from the Aisle
• 6:09:15
  Gemmed Empire of the Sea to the azure vault of the Imperian, et cetera,
• 6:09:22
  et cetera. We now climbed a steep trail cart in the face of
• 6:09:27
  the cliff. The flash and thunder of the surf below were so trying to
• 6:09:33
  Anton's nerves that the expedition narrow escaped a tragic finale on the rocks beneath.
• 6:09:40
  Coming to the top, I saw a narrow bench of land extending a mile
• 6:09:45
  or two to the north, the only stretch of level land along the Santa
• 6:09:48
  Lucia Coast, and dignified with the name of Pacific valley, though there is
• 6:09:53
  really nothing at all valley like about it. In the distance where the weather
• 6:10:00
  beaten buildings of a ranch, where in due course we arrived and found entertainment
• 6:10:04
  with hearty simple people. The place was picturesque, with a frontier like litter
• 6:10:11
  of odds and ends. On the pickets of the fence, I counted eight
• 6:10:15
  sets of deer antlers, and the walls of the outhouses bought a notable array
• 6:10:21
  of pelts of sheep, deer, oxen, wildcats, seals, and smaller
• 6:10:26
  animals, minus pans and mortars, mineral specimens, fishing gear and rifles marked
• 6:10:33
  the various interests of family life. I looked with curiosity, not impertinent.
• 6:10:41
  I hope at the weary looking elderly housewife, for I had heard that a
• 6:10:45
  few months previously the family had struck it rich. A landslide had uncovered a
• 6:10:52
  ledge of very valuable gold bearing quartz on their property, and had promoted them
• 6:10:59
  at a step from the frugal comfort of farmers to a reasonable certainty of easy
• 6:11:03
  wealth. I could not but wonder what would be the physical, mental,
• 6:11:10
  moral, and spiritual results. The father, now dead, had carried the
• 6:11:15
  weekly mails for fifteen years by pack horse from Holan, over the trail I
• 6:11:22
  had just traveled. Jim, his old departmental mule, retired from service,
• 6:11:29
  roams about the ranch, respected by horse and man alike. The day that
• 6:11:34
  I arrived chanced to be male day, so I had the opportunity of seeing
• 6:11:38
  the excitement when, long after dark, a clatter of hoofs announced the event
• 6:11:45
  of the week, and young Benito, whose acquaintance I had made at Holan,
• 6:11:49
  went jingling past on his way to the post office at Gorda, a
• 6:11:53
  mile further up the trail. I was glad to find, by the example
• 6:11:59
  of this pleasant family, that it is yet possible to live where mail comes
• 6:12:03
  but once a week, and telegraph or telephone messages are impossible, and still
• 6:12:11
  be comfortable and contented. Chapter fifteen, Camp at Mill Creek, Tools and
• 6:12:19
  the Man a Serpentine trail, Lucia, a postal frontier, a lost schoolhouse,
• 6:12:29
  the tanbark oak, a coast range, sunset, Gamboa's Ranch, a
• 6:12:34
  rare situation, sudden changes of scenery, the trail lost again, rough scrambling,
• 6:12:45
  Little's springs, a bath in mid air, unseen choristers, two hundred
• 6:12:52
  feet of magazines camp among the redwoods, superb trees Castro's Ranch. It was
• 6:13:03
  a Saturday afternoon when I left Pacific Valley. A few miles up coast.
• 6:13:08
  The view was closed by the promontory of Lopez's Point, on the thither side
• 6:13:12
  of which is a stream called Mill Creek, where I proposed camping for Sunday.
• 6:13:18
  The afternoon was bright for a change, and I traveled slowly, reveling
• 6:13:23
  in the romping wind and the splendid color play of the sea. The mountains
• 6:13:29
  again rose abruptly from the shore in folds of faded gold that were swept by
• 6:13:34
  flying cloud shadows, and checkered with clear, blocked masses of timber in canyon
• 6:13:41
  and on crest again. I longed to be a painter, a great painter,
• 6:13:48
  one to whom the subjectiveness the spirituality of colour should be known, and
• 6:13:56
  who might transcribe this fine fragment of nature in all all its material and immaterial
• 6:14:03
  beauty. There is a largeness and freedom about this little visited coast that puts
• 6:14:10
  the mind under stimulus and almost rids one of that deadly incubus of experience which
• 6:14:17
  so sadly dulls the edge of our impressions. At Mill Creek, I found
• 6:14:23
  one of the landings which take the place of harbours on this rocky coast,
• 6:14:29
  a crane, cable and windlass by which freight is sent up or down between
• 6:14:33
  cliff and water. I found my friends from the ranch at work at a
• 6:14:37
  pile of redwood timbers, which they were about to raft down to their own
• 6:14:42
  landing. There is no lack of variety in the occupations of the settlers on
• 6:14:48
  the coast of the Santa Lucia. Tools and the man will be the text
• 6:14:53
  of the Vergil of this region. I made camp beside the creek, but
• 6:14:59
  the pasture ridge was so scanty that it was necessary to take Anton a mile
• 6:15:03
  further to where a Mexican lived, from whom I might buy hay. Here.
• 6:15:10
  Anton was accommodated in the stable, and when after a pleasant chat I
• 6:15:14
  returned to camp, I carried back a sizeable venison steak pressed upon me by
• 6:15:19
  the good people. The fog was unusually dense at night, and by morning
• 6:15:26
  my blankets were soaking. I kept up a roaring fire for comfort till noon,
• 6:15:32
  when the weather cleared, and the rest of the day was spent in
• 6:15:34
  seeking shady places for relief from the sun. The creek was full of trout,
• 6:15:41
  and two hours of the evening sufficed to catch my breakfast and enough to
• 6:15:45
  make a fair return for my venison. The trail next day continued to wind
• 6:15:51
  along the cliff, diving every half mile or so into a wooded canyon and
• 6:15:56
  giving a charming alteration of landscape pen syscape. If the course of this trail
• 6:16:03
  were drawn in bird's eye fashion, it would show a surprising serpentine, and
• 6:16:08
  the ratio of airline distance to actual traveling would be a remarkable one if it
• 6:16:15
  were calculated. In one of the canyons, I found the home of an
• 6:16:19
  old settler. It made an inviting appearance, with its garden of herbs and
• 6:16:25
  flowers, and its half acre of fruits and vegetables. A boy was cleaning
• 6:16:30
  a rifle by the gate, and through the open door I could see the
• 6:16:33
  owner of the place, a man of so little curiosity that, although I
• 6:16:38
  may easily have been the first passer by for a week, he neither asked
• 6:16:44
  nor cared to see who the traveler might be. Usually, the arrival of
• 6:16:48
  a stranger would bring out all hands and a host of questions. In another
• 6:16:55
  and deeper canyon known as Lime Kiln Canyon, I came upon the remains of
• 6:17:00
  a considerable building filled with machinery, all now fallen into wreck. The place
• 6:17:07
  was a wilderness of ferns, flowers and noble redwoods, and I had to
• 6:17:11
  resist a strong inclination to camp there, backed by Anton, on the score
• 6:17:17
  of a scanty cropping of green fodder. The climb out was long and strenuous,
• 6:17:23
  but Anton did himself credit, and indeed I had constant reason to congratulate
• 6:17:30
  myself on the exchange I had made. After some miles of steady traveling,
• 6:17:36
  my next landmark came in sight far ahead, a farm house set high up
• 6:17:41
  on the hillside. It was always a relief to find that I was on
• 6:17:45
  the right track, for besides being little traveled, the trails are much complicated
• 6:17:52
  with cattle trails. The house proved also the post office of Lucia, the
• 6:17:59
  farther outpost of the postal service in this direction. Here on Monday I mailed
• 6:18:06
  letters, which, after lying here until Saturday, would be taken to Gorda,
• 6:18:11
  where they would wait until the following Saturday before starting for Holan. And
• 6:18:15
  the inhabited world now began another stiff climb compensated by fine, expansive views to
• 6:18:23
  seaward. I was astonished to find a school up here on this lonely mountain
• 6:18:30
  side. The scholars had just been dismissed and were playing round the neat little
• 6:18:33
  building. Of the ten or twelve I saw while I stopped to chat with
• 6:18:37
  them, all but two were Mexican, a fact which helped to explain there
• 6:18:42
  being so many children within range, For Mexican families are apt to be a
• 6:18:48
  good deal larger than American, and three little homes might easily contribute a dozen
• 6:18:53
  or more youngsters of school age. A couple of miles farther on, I
• 6:19:00
  came to one such home, a picturesque, weather beaten house shaded by fruit
• 6:19:04
  trees, whose size showed a probable age of some forty years. A tall,
• 6:19:11
  white haired old man who was sitting on the porch came forward and greeted
• 6:19:15
  me in Spanish as I reined up, inquiring whether I would not dismount.
• 6:19:21
  I was glad to do so, and passed a pleasant half hour with him
• 6:19:23
  and his eldest son. Again, I found that the mere mention of having
• 6:19:29
  friendly acquaintance with the compatriot was enough to ensure kindest reception. It was late
• 6:19:37
  afternoon when I got my directions for the next ranch, where I intended to
• 6:19:41
  stay for the night. Crossing the deep canyon of Vincenti Creek, the trail
• 6:19:48
  bore steadily up the mountainside until it must have reached a height of well over
• 6:19:52
  two thousand feet. In the canyons hereabouts the tan Bark oak quirkst andsyflora,
• 6:20:00
  that curious link between oak and chestnut grows freely, and the gathering and shipping
• 6:20:07
  of the bark formerly made a considerable industry here, as it still does.
• 6:20:11
  Along the coast. Farther north, at one spart known as tan Bark Camp,
• 6:20:18
  I noticed the remains of a large abandoned encampment. Higher still, and
• 6:20:25
  near the crest, I came into a region of magnificent yellow pines and redwoods.
• 6:20:30
  It was sundown and the view was a remarkable one. The sun shone
• 6:20:36
  level and with a strange bronze hue through a translucent vale of fog. Below
• 6:20:44
  the fog, the surface of the ocean was clear and was flooded with gorgeous
• 6:20:48
  purple by the sunset. On the high crest, where I stood, a
• 6:20:55
  clear, warm glory bathed the golden slopes of grass, unlighted the noble trees,
• 6:21:02
  as if for some great pageant. There was a solemnity in the splendor,
• 6:21:07
  an unearthly quality in the whole scene that kept me spellbound and bare headed
• 6:21:14
  until fatefully, imperceptibly, the sun had set. The situation of Gamboa's ranch
• 6:21:23
  is superb, the very finest I know. The house, an old and
• 6:21:30
  picturesque one hangs like an erie on the mountain side, which is so high
• 6:21:36
  and steep that one looks down upon the vast expanse of ocean as if from
• 6:21:41
  a two or three thousand foot cliff. Downs of rich grassland fill the view
• 6:21:48
  to north, south and east with great pines clothing every ridge and hollow.
• 6:21:56
  The fog seldom reaches to this height, yet its coolest tempers the summer,
• 6:22:00
  and the climate forms a perfect combination of sea, mountain and forest elements.
• 6:22:08
  The boys were away driving cattle across the mountains, but the wife, a
• 6:22:14
  pretty Mexican woman, made me welcome, and after a supper of venison with
• 6:22:18
  freeholis and tortillas, entertained the hired man and me with a phonograph medley of
• 6:22:25
  favorite Spanish airs. It was something of a shock to find that even these
• 6:22:30
  farthest recesses of mountains had not escaped that terrible machine, which I suppose by
• 6:22:37
  now is rousing the echoes of Nova Zembla and the mountains of the Moon.
• 6:22:45
  I slept under an apple tree in the orchard, which was forestooned throughout with
• 6:22:48
  ropes of venison jerky during the deer season. Venison is as much as staple
• 6:22:55
  of these mountains as potatoes are all the year to dwellers in ten a mile
• 6:23:03
  or two beyond gambonas is the Arroyo Grande, one of the deepest canyons of
• 6:23:08
  the Range. I had been but little on horseback since we entered this rougher
• 6:23:14
  country, wishing to spare Anton as much as possible, a point of necessity
• 6:23:19
  indeed, for the trail was almost always either steeping grade or lay along slopes
• 6:23:26
  sharp enough to make the consequences of a stumble something more than annoying. I
• 6:23:33
  now led Anton carefully down the stair like descent, which took us from open,
• 6:23:40
  grassy slopes, through a region of flowery brush into a shadowy canyon of
• 6:23:45
  redwoods with a lively stream here again, it was a trial that the total
• 6:23:52
  absence of forage for bad camping. For otherwise the place was superlative for the
• 6:23:57
  purpose. Half a mile farther on we crossed the north fork of the same
• 6:24:03
  stream, where I had to endure a similar tantalization. Then came a long,
• 6:24:10
  hard climb out, with alternate blaze of open hillside and slumbrous shade of
• 6:24:17
  canyon. These changes are startlingly sudden throughout this region. From steep walled clefts
• 6:24:25
  filled with silent companies of straight stem trees and roofed with a green firmament of
• 6:24:32
  foliage, one passes without warning to breezy hillsides of sun scorched grass or brittle
• 6:24:38
  gray sage and buckwheat, where far below the greatest of oceans stretches from the
• 6:24:45
  line of the cliff out and away to infinitude and China. The country hereabouts
• 6:24:55
  was marked everywhere with an unconscionable tangle of cattle paths, among which it was
• 6:25:00
  quite impossible to keep the trail. I knew that I needed to keep well
• 6:25:04
  up on the mountain, but with a mile of steep slant to guess on,
• 6:25:10
  I was soon hopelessly at fault. Moreover, the slope was cut vertically
• 6:25:15
  by rocky brush filled gullies, which bothered Anton greatly. Several times I had
• 6:25:22
  to build or cart away for him. He was behaving so bravely and sagaciously
• 6:25:27
  that when at one place, after I had spent half an hour in trail
• 6:25:32
  building, he pointedly refused to trust himself to it. I thought it best
• 6:25:37
  to defer to his instinct and wave the point. Though to round the head
• 6:25:41
  of the galley meant another hard climb. As it was, he received some
• 6:25:47
  cuts upon the knees, pocks, and feet, and I looked at him
• 6:25:51
  with compunction when at last we picked up a more likely trail and rested for
• 6:25:56
  ten minutes to recuperate and repair damages. Far ahead, and nearly at shore
• 6:26:03
  level, I could see a tumble down mess of corrals and cabins, which
• 6:26:07
  I knew must mark an abandoned ranch called Dolands. I'd been advised to camp
• 6:26:14
  there on account of there being water and a little pasturage, But when we
• 6:26:18
  reached the place it looked so woe begone and generally uninviting that fagged as we
• 6:26:22
  both were, I resolved to push on to some more desirable spot. So
• 6:26:29
  on we marched for weary miles, now fortunately over a better trail, and
• 6:26:36
  at last, rounding the head of another deep canyon, came to little springs
• 6:26:41
  otherwise known as slates. Here I found a comfortable, old fashioned house where
• 6:26:48
  I could put up for the night. In fact, the place makes some
• 6:26:52
  claim to rank as a resort by virtue of its medicinal springs, though no
• 6:26:57
  guests were in evidence, nor any token of either expectation or accommodation for them.
• 6:27:04
  A quarter of a mile from the house I found a couple of tents
• 6:27:07
  pitched on the ledge of a rock halfway down the one hundred foot bluff.
• 6:27:12
  In them were bath tubs to which hot sulfur water was led from springs that
• 6:27:18
  break out all along the cliff. Tents and tubs had been hauled up with
• 6:27:25
  windlass and cable from the vessel that brought them down from San Francisco, and
• 6:27:30
  then had been lowered over the cliff on to the ledge near the springs.
• 6:27:36
  It was an enjoyable experience to bathe thus, as it were in mid air,
• 6:27:41
  with gulls screaming all around and breakers roaring fifty feet below. Fog again
• 6:27:48
  enveloped us. When we started next morning, I was told that the trail
• 6:27:52
  from this place was an official one being kept up by the county, and
• 6:27:57
  I communicated the news to Ant for his consolation. It kept close along the
• 6:28:03
  cliff, as I could tell from the sound of the surf and the cries
• 6:28:07
  of sea birds far below. It was very interesting to travel thus, as
• 6:28:12
  was often the case in company with unseen comrades, beauties or dangers. Once
• 6:28:21
  I heard a company of land birds singing away merrily in some bush in the
• 6:28:23
  fog below me. It had a charming sound, reminding one of magical casements
• 6:28:30
  opening on the foam of perilous seas in fairy lands. Forlorn, I often
• 6:28:38
  wish I were in some small fraction of a keats myself, to put the
• 6:28:42
  beauty of such little incidents into felicitous phrase. Now and then, a rift
• 6:28:52
  in the vapor showed for a moment the dull, gray gleam of the comas
• 6:28:56
  as they plunged shorewards, the dark fringe of rocks forever pushing back the wash
• 6:29:03
  of the sea. In the canyons, the fog made a strange white gloom,
• 6:29:08
  dense but luminous, through which the great stems of trees stood up like
• 6:29:14
  the pillars in some Dantean temple of shades. Sometimes a group of wind twisted
• 6:29:21
  trees showed weirdly through the mists, as if peering up from under their matty
• 6:29:26
  thatches of foliage in dread of some portentous stroke. Every canyon had its stream,
• 6:29:34
  filling the air with a monotone that would have been ghostly but for the
• 6:29:40
  cheerful notes of the oosels. The presence of that gay little water sprite is
• 6:29:45
  as genial as August sunshine. About midday, the fog broke away, revealing
• 6:29:52
  far up the coast a prominent headland, which I set down as Point Sir.
• 6:30:00
  It revealed also my trail, stretching like a pleated ribbon along the mountain,
• 6:30:06
  high above the sea, and on and on to vanishing point. At
• 6:30:11
  the head of one of the canyons, I found a snug little place kept
• 6:30:15
  by two old bachelors who have carved out a narrow strip of ground on the
• 6:30:21
  roof like slope above the creek. I stopped for a rest and a chat,
• 6:30:26
  and gained a little side light on the conditions of life along this coast.
• 6:30:30
  From the three piles of magazines, each reaching from floor to ceiling of
• 6:30:36
  their living room, or about two hundred feet board measure of compressed literature,
• 6:30:41
  which they keep for reading matter in winter, when for weeks together the trails
• 6:30:47
  may be impassable. At the mouth of this canyon, the creek makes a
• 6:30:52
  spectacular drop direct into the ocean, like some Norwegian stream falling into a fiord.
• 6:31:00
  In the next large canyon, there was a huddle of decayed buildings with
• 6:31:03
  the remains of an orchard. As there was fair pastureage, I resolved to
• 6:31:10
  camp, a special attraction being the fine red woods that grew along the creek.
• 6:31:17
  I had never until then found an opportunity of making camp among these trees,
• 6:31:22
  thought one time or another, I must have hobnobbed with almost all the
• 6:31:26
  other members of the California conifers, from tide water to timberline. I,
• 6:31:33
  unsaddled at the foot of a genial looking monster, picketed anton in knee high
• 6:31:38
  wild oats, and ate my supper under the eyes of a covey of quail
• 6:31:44
  that perched on an old rail fence near by and discussed me in almost human
• 6:31:48
  tones. The occasion justified a camp fire of the best, and I passed
• 6:31:55
  a long evening, cheerful with reminiscences of bygone nights among the forests of the
• 6:32:00
  Greater California Sierra. The squirrels and jays were roused at first daylight by the
• 6:32:07
  smoke of my breakfast fire. But when we were ready to start, it
• 6:32:11
  seemed to me that I had hardly done due honor to my first redwood camp.
• 6:32:18
  So I took off Anton's saddle and smoked a couple more leisurely pipes.
• 6:32:23
  Then, in peaceful mood, we set out the ocean lay under the usual
• 6:32:30
  shroud of fog, but on our high path the sun shone warm and bright,
• 6:32:36
  and the morning was gay with birds and butterflies. A rattlesnake that was
• 6:32:41
  out for an early breakfast and crossed the trail in front of us, left
• 6:32:45
  his body to the buzzards as a sarcastic commentary on the adage of the bird
• 6:32:52
  and the worm. Tracks of deer were numerous about every creek and spring,
• 6:32:57
  And once, when we had just crossed the trail of a mountain lion,
• 6:33:02
  Anton became so excited that I had no doubt he scented the animal somewhere close
• 6:33:07
  at hand. The redwoods in the canyons were finer than any I had yet
• 6:33:12
  seen, Some of them quite wonderful in their straight, stately symmetry. The
• 6:33:18
  older branches of the largest trees were recurved and hung for thirty or forty feet
• 6:33:25
  close about the stem. In places, the sun's rays could hardly pass through
• 6:33:30
  the high roof of foliage, and I moved among the gray and purple pillars,
• 6:33:36
  subdued to a green thought in a green shade, as someone has put
• 6:33:41
  it. Anton's sensations apparently took the same hue. His pasturage the past night
• 6:33:48
  had not been overly luxurious, and he neglected no mouthful of verdure that came
• 6:33:53
  in his path. I wished I could introduce him to one of those mountain
• 6:34:00
  meadows where in former years I had often seen my animals half smothered in juicy
• 6:34:06
  grasses. Late afternoon found us at Castro's Ranch, a comfortable, old fashioned
• 6:34:12
  place. The terminus of wagon travel at the northern end of the Santa Lucias,
• 6:34:18
  as San Simeon is at the southern. The distance between them is about
• 6:34:25
  sixty miles in an airline, but it must be two or three times as
• 6:34:29
  much in actual traveling distance by the trails. I received a genial welcome from
• 6:34:34
  those excellent people and made up Anton's arreas of hay and grain. Dogs,
• 6:34:41
  cats and geese made the place lively with companionable sounds, and an orchard of
• 6:34:47
  peaches and apples formed an acceptable incident. I was lodged in a tiny white
• 6:34:53
  curtained room opening on a flowery jungle of garden, and at supper was plied
• 6:35:00
  with venison freeholies and tootias, with vegetable adjuncts to which I had long been
• 6:35:07
  a stranger. In notable array. Chapter sixteen, From Trail to Road,
• 6:35:15
  The Big sur River Canyon of the Little Sir Point Sir Lighthouse, a Robinson
• 6:35:23
  crusoe and a great discovery in mineralogy, Portuguese friendliness once more, the perfection
• 6:35:33
  of coast scenery, Point Lobos, cypresses and pines, The Mission of San
• 6:35:41
  Carlos Carmel, beauty of its situation, the resting place of Sarah Carmel by
• 6:35:48
  the sea, more delightful coast, wonderful cypresses. Monterey, the old capital
• 6:35:56
  of California as Danas saw it, historic objects, the Stevenson House, whaling
• 6:36:03
  days, the old Church, The change from side hill trail to graded road
• 6:36:11
  agreeable enough to anton, gave me some regrets, as implying a tamer country.
• 6:36:18
  For the first time in some days, I got into the saddle and
• 6:36:22
  road. The morning and the road were both delicious. A cool air came
• 6:36:29
  from the sea, which we now left out of sight, and the scents
• 6:36:33
  from bay, redwood and underbrush were spicy and stimulating. The road wound downward
• 6:36:41
  between the wooded ridge that shut the ocean from sight and high steep hills of
• 6:36:48
  yellowed grass, slashed as ever with timbered canyons. Unwelcome signs of what I
• 6:36:55
  suppose we must call civilization began to occur in the guy of warnings against hunting,
• 6:37:02
  fishing, or camping on this ranch. From time to time I caught
• 6:37:07
  the sound of a large stream running in the canyon below, and before long
• 6:37:11
  we dropped into the valley of the Big sur River and came upon a little
• 6:37:15
  Noah's Ark Affair with post office painted upon it. This place has long been
• 6:37:22
  known as posts after an early settler, but lately some person with a craving
• 6:37:29
  for change has persuaded the authorities to rename it Arbolado, a monstrosity of mongrel
• 6:37:37
  Spanish, of which the Department should not have been guilty. From here a
• 6:37:41
  stage runs on alternate days to and from Monterey, twenty five miles to the
• 6:37:47
  Northwood. For five charming miles. The road accompanied the stream under the grateful
• 6:37:52
  shades of redwoods, muttled with gold and green of filtered sunlight. Then climbing
• 6:38:00
  in long curves, it opened a fine view of the Valley of the Sir,
• 6:38:04
  lying open as on a map, the stream itself hidden in deep forest,
• 6:38:11
  almost to where a bar of surf marked its meeting with the ocean.
• 6:38:15
  A strong wind was blowing from the water, and as the fog broke away
• 6:38:19
  from time to time, the warring, white clawed waves could be seen far
• 6:38:25
  out at sea. Near By, and on my left stood the lonely rock
• 6:38:30
  of Point sur its summit, hidden in mists, and on the other side
• 6:38:37
  rose a striking white mountain called Pico Blanco, the second highest point of the
• 6:38:42
  range. It looked strangely white, almost as though it were snow covered against
• 6:38:49
  the blue of the eastern sky. From north and west, masses of gray
• 6:38:56
  sea rack came driving every moment, in imposing and encountering some opposing air current
• 6:39:03
  maintained a sullen battle among the hills. Descending the steep grade, we entered
• 6:39:10
  the beautiful canyon of the Little Sir, where, to my surprise I found
• 6:39:15
  a mountain hotel and a resort of tents on the bank of the river.
• 6:39:21
  The place was deserted by the summer visitors, for September had now begun.
• 6:39:26
  But hay was there, and I judged it best to stay for the night,
• 6:39:30
  for fodder was now the matter of first importance in my calculations. I
• 6:39:37
  devoted the rest of the day to a visit to the lighthouse at the point
• 6:39:41
  five miles away. The afternoon was delightful, with a clear sun and a
• 6:39:48
  kiplinesque sort of wind, and Anton relieved for wance of impediments. Bethought himself
• 6:39:55
  of his Arizona youth, and was bent upon rounding up all the cattle he
• 6:40:00
  saw on the hillsides. The ocean was of a splendid, windy purple,
• 6:40:06
  though far to seaward. The fog lay furled along the horizon in a band
• 6:40:11
  of pearly gray. Quail whistled in the brushy gullies, and overheard the gulls
• 6:40:18
  strained and screamed against the wind. A little black steamer was shouldering her way
• 6:40:26
  doggedly up coast, the white water churning by her side, and the smoke
• 6:40:30
  tearing away from her funnels as she fought her way along. I thought that
• 6:40:37
  Ruskin, in his quaint dogmatism, would not have included the smoky little bulldog
• 6:40:44
  in his eulogy of the sea boat. But it seemed to me to show
• 6:40:48
  all the dutiful hardihood that roused his admiration, bearing its breast moment after moment
• 6:40:55
  against the unwearied enmity of ocean, the subtle, fitful, implacable smiting of
• 6:41:02
  the black waves, provoking each other on endlessly, still striking them back into
• 6:41:08
  a wreath of smoke and futile foam, and winning its way against them,
• 6:41:14
  and keeping its charge of life from them. The Point is an abrupt rock
• 6:41:21
  connected with the shore by an isthmus of sand. A narrow path cut in
• 6:41:26
  the rock leads up to the lighthouse buildings. Anton was excited when he saw
• 6:41:32
  the surf crashing below him, and gazed from it to me within. I
• 6:41:36
  say, you know, kinds of an expression which was comically human. I
• 6:41:42
  was kindly received by the lighthouse folk, and shown over their spick and span
• 6:41:47
  domain. The light, which is a powerful one of the first order,
• 6:41:52
  stands two hundred and forty feet above the water, rather too high, I
• 6:41:56
  was told, since at that night the fog is more frequent and dense than
• 6:42:02
  nearer the surface. In the course of a walk up the stream next morning,
• 6:42:07
  I came upon an original who for many years has lived a Robinson crusoe
• 6:42:14
  life in a cabin high up on the canyon wall. His ramshackle dwelling was
• 6:42:19
  more shed than house, and I found the ancient himself seated beside it in
• 6:42:25
  a rather alarming strait of undress, under the shelter of an umbrella which he
• 6:42:30
  had hung obliquely from the roof to intercept the morning sun. With his bright
• 6:42:37
  blue eyes, skin originally ruddy but now tanned to Indian hue, and shock
• 6:42:42
  of long white hair, he made a most odd appearance. He was talking
• 6:42:48
  to himself as I approached, but hailed me hospitably to come in and sit
• 6:42:52
  down for a chat. The chatting was a passive affair on my side,
• 6:42:57
  for he himself did not ceased talking for a moment, and after one or
• 6:43:03
  two vain attempts to stop him, I only sat and listened. His great
• 6:43:08
  topic was minerals, concerning which he had a theory. Knew to me that
• 6:43:15
  every metal has a father and a mother. This great discovery had been revealed
• 6:43:21
  to him by an old Indian woman once of these parts, who had bequeathed
• 6:43:26
  him a map by which he declared he was able to make his theory effective.
• 6:43:33
  To discount the probable discrepancy between his apparent poor circumstances and his potential wealth,
• 6:43:40
  he explained that he cared nothing for actual money, being content with knowing
• 6:43:45
  that he could at any time procure it. A philosophy which, as he
• 6:43:49
  appeared to hold it sincerely, was an admirable one and worthy to be recommended
• 6:43:55
  to our captains of finance. The wind blew more strongly after sundown, and
• 6:44:02
  tassels of foliage from the redwoods overhead came thumping all night on the tent in
• 6:44:07
  which I slept. It was blowing half a gale when in the morning we
• 6:44:14
  took the road, which, after crossing the little sur River, climbed a
• 6:44:18
  long rise that brought us again into company with the sea. The birds had
• 6:44:25
  collected in the sheltered canyons, and their unusual numbers made those parts of the
• 6:44:30
  way specially attractive. So steep were the sides of some of the canyons that
• 6:44:37
  where the road ran high up on the wall, I could look down upon
• 6:44:41
  the tops of the redwoods close below me as if I were an aviator.
• 6:44:47
  And the scent that came up from the forest was such as to speak humbly,
• 6:44:52
  I hoped to find in heaven. In one canyon I found a schoolhouse,
• 6:44:59
  the first I passed for a week, and a post office named Sir.
• 6:45:04
  The latter gave no token of its use, for mail boxes and signboard
• 6:45:10
  had gone out to sea together during the winter rains. When I learned that
• 6:45:15
  the stream was Mill Creek, I wondered how many more of that name I
• 6:45:19
  was to meet. I think Mill Creeks in California could be numbered by the
• 6:45:25
  score. All day, the road wound along a rocky shore, beside a
• 6:45:32
  bright sea broken by surf ringed islets, and the glistening fringe of kelp that
• 6:45:37
  lies for League on League, unbroken. Along this coast to landward still rose
• 6:45:45
  the monotonous drab hills sprinkled with gray sage bushes or grayer outcroppings of rock.
• 6:45:52
  At long intervals, stark looking ranch houses appeared, but there was little travel
• 6:45:57
  on the road, and the human voice was still a rarity to the ear.
• 6:46:03
  Wreaths of fog came drifting in now and then from the sea, and
• 6:46:08
  the faint coughing of the siren at points sir miles in the rear seemed to
• 6:46:14
  add to the loneliness of the scene. On rounding a bend, I saw
• 6:46:19
  the hills before me crested darkly with pines. Even at three miles distance.
• 6:46:26
  Their vigorous manner of growth marked them as the Radiata species, and I knew
• 6:46:33
  that by that token we were coming to the neighborhood of Monterey, where almost
• 6:46:37
  alone the tree is native. It was nearing sundown, and I should have
• 6:46:45
  been glad to camp among them, but again the necessity of fodder for bad,
• 6:46:51
  and I turned in at the next ranch to inquire the prospects for a
• 6:46:55
  night's lodging. The Portuguese woman received me kindly and found me a bed in
• 6:47:00
  a little outhouse. The husband was away, but five jolly children took possession
• 6:47:07
  of me with such enthusiasm that it was evident that a visitor was regarded as
• 6:47:12
  a prize of the first degree. In five minutes, Avelino was on my
• 6:47:18
  back, Ernesto and Browlio were punching me jovially, Angelus of the soft brown
• 6:47:25
  eyes was filling my hands with her best beloved flowers, and fat Jose was
• 6:47:30
  planning a rescue in order to show me a phenomenal farrow of pigs. Supper
• 6:47:37
  was an uproarious event, and afterwards the whole battery of phonograph records was ground
• 6:47:44
  off. For my delight, I left them. Next morning, while the
• 6:47:48
  boys were milking the herd of thirty cows, and dear little Angelis, in
• 6:47:53
  enormous sun bonnets and gloves, skirmished about waiting to carry the pails to the
• 6:47:59
  milk house. It was a superlative morning, with neither wind nor fog.
• 6:48:06
  The first hint of autumn was abroad in some elusive fashion, though in Brilliancy
• 6:48:11
  the day was more like May than September. The sea was a splendor of
• 6:48:17
  deep Mediterranean blue, and broke in such dazzling freshness of white that one might
• 6:48:22
  have thought it had been that day created. How amazing it is that the
• 6:48:30
  ancient ocean, with its age long stain of cities and traffic, toil and
• 6:48:36
  blood can still be so bright, so uncontaminated, so heavenly pure. It
• 6:48:44
  seems an intentional parable of Divinity, knowing and receiving all evil as well as
• 6:48:51
  good, yet through some deathless principle itself remaining forever right, strong and pure.
• 6:49:00
  The unchanging good pines grew here along the cliff, outlining with tawny stem
• 6:49:07
  and dark magnificence of foliage, the most exquisite of vistas. The coast was
• 6:49:15
  broken by little bays full of brown seaweed that rose and fell indolently with the
• 6:49:21
  slow breathing of the sea. Islets were scattered along as if they had been
• 6:49:26
  dropped like pebbles out of a full hand. I do not think there can
• 6:49:32
  be anywhere on our shores a more enchanting piece of coast than this and the
• 6:49:37
  next ten miles to the north. It is the acme of what is generally
• 6:49:42
  named the romantic in sea scenery, and is calculated. I should think to
• 6:49:48
  throw an artist into a frenzy in which he would paint one final and conscious
• 6:49:56
  masterpiece, then close color box, camps, stall and umbrella, and hul
• 6:50:02
  them all over the cliff together. Noon found us at Point Lobos. It
• 6:50:08
  is a superb headland, overgrown with pines and cypresses that lean in perilous balance
• 6:50:15
  over the crashing sea, or stand staturesquely on rocky ledges, ideally pictorial.
• 6:50:23
  The cypresses are monarchical fellows, wonderful in size and evident age, and learlike
• 6:50:30
  in their storm thorn attitudes. Like the pines, they are strict natives of
• 6:50:37
  this locality and give a unique charm to this delightful coast. By their manner
• 6:50:44
  of growth, they reminded me of the monumental use of English churchyards, and
• 6:50:49
  indeed there is much of the same solemnity in their gnarled stems, far reaching
• 6:50:55
  bony arms, and rich but gloomy foliage. I was courteously entertained at lunch
• 6:51:03
  by the owner of the ranch which includes this enviable piece of coast, then
• 6:51:07
  pursued my way, soon crossing a bridge over the wide, shallow stream called
• 6:51:12
  the Carmel. A beautiful valley here opens inland. I had long wished to
• 6:51:19
  explore it, as well as to try my flies on the river, which
• 6:51:23
  has a good reputation among fishermen. But Anton was badly in need of a
• 6:51:29
  blacksmith now near at hand, and I decided to keep the road towards Monterey.
• 6:51:36
  A turn brought me to the Mission of San Carlos, generally known as
• 6:51:40
  Carmel, one of the oldest and most interesting of all the missions. There's
• 6:51:47
  a particular beauty in the simple, rather heavy building that I could not easily
• 6:51:52
  explain to myself. I think it lies in the perfect balance which has been
• 6:51:56
  kept between solidity and ornament. The tower is a model of proportion, and
• 6:52:03
  the facade is only broken by one star window of simple but beautiful design.
• 6:52:11
  The star is a little out of the symmetrical, as is also the cupola
• 6:52:15
  of the tower, but the variation is too slight to be jarring, and
• 6:52:21
  if anything, adds a pleasing and humane touch to the modest building, as
• 6:52:26
  a token of the artless sincerity of the poorly skilled workmen. Situation is another
• 6:52:33
  element of its charm. Tranquil hills, clouded here and there with pines,
• 6:52:40
  rise on two sides. A peaceful river flows silently by, and at a
• 6:52:45
  little distance lies the blue and golden curve of the bay, broken by flash
• 6:52:52
  of surf, where the tide is leaping on the river bar. The only
• 6:52:56
  houses in sight are a quiet farm and the little flowery dwelling of the Mexican
• 6:53:03
  who acts as caretaker in the church. The body of Unipero Sarah himself lies
• 6:53:11
  buried near the altar, with those of three of his comrades. A tablet
• 6:53:15
  on the wall above commemorates them. Thus, Hickey asent x uye rev patris
• 6:53:23
  in iperisera os F Missionum California fundataurus ac precidis in pache depositai de x x
• 6:53:36
  v II menses ugusti A D M D c C l x x x i
• 6:53:45
  v at quay sociorum Eus r r p P, Johannes Crespy, Uliani,
• 6:53:52
  Lopez et Franciski lar suen requiescat in pass reader's note. My poor Latin translation
• 6:54:04
  reads, thus here lie the remains of the Reverend Father Unipero Serah OSF,
• 6:54:15
  founder and protector of the Missions of California in peace, deposited this twenty eighth
• 6:54:22
  day of August and o Doomini year of our Lord seventeen eighty four. And
• 6:54:29
  his companions are URPP, Johannes Cresby, Giuliani, Lopez, and Franciski Las
• 6:54:37
  sun Rest in peace end of reader's note. It seemed to me a pleasant
• 6:54:48
  spot to be the resting place of the weary old priest. Swallows were weaving
• 6:54:52
  all about the place, and had built against the painted windows above the grave.
• 6:54:59
  Their eager little vices filled the air and came mingled with the dreamy iteration
• 6:55:03
  of the surf. For a moment I was in ASSISI an auditor of Saint
• 6:55:10
  Francis. The johannglure of the Lord and of his little brother John Glears.
• 6:55:18
  From here half an hour brought us to Carmel by the Sea, where I
• 6:55:22
  tasted the luxury of a comfortable hotel, while a livery stable received my good
• 6:55:27
  anton. The village is pleasantly rural, with its houses scattered through a pine
• 6:55:33
  wood that slopes to a beach of whitest sand. It is a notable place
• 6:55:41
  of residence for artists and university dons from Stanford and Berkeley, and when is
• 6:55:47
  conscious of a mildly bohemian or scholastico artistic air, Commelle certainly has an unusual
• 6:55:55
  range of attractions. Its own happy situation, the exc exceptional beauty of the
• 6:56:00
  adjacent coast, a soft and equitable climate, and facilities for a variety of
• 6:56:07
  sports, and over all there hangs a tinge of romance from the neighborhood of
• 6:56:12
  Monterey, the capital of the Spanish and Mexican California of no very long time
• 6:56:18
  ago. I might have been in Monterey in an hour from Carmel, by
• 6:56:23
  crossing the neck of the Monterey Peninsula, but I could not bring myself to
• 6:56:29
  miss any part of this enchanting coast. So next morning I took the road
• 6:56:34
  that follows the shore. This is part of the renowned seventeen mile Drive,
• 6:56:41
  which figures on the itinerary of California tourists, and its fame is certainly justified.
• 6:56:49
  In its fine grouping of the beautiful and striking elements. The scenery might
• 6:56:55
  really be called classic, and indeed I doubt whether it could be surpassed unless
• 6:57:00
  in Greece or Italy. The shoreline is ideally broken and wonderfully rich in color,
• 6:57:08
  the water a play of emerald and sapphire hues, breaking momentarily in sudden
• 6:57:14
  blaze of surf, or shaded to deeper tones by the brown banners of the
• 6:57:19
  Kelp Promontory and cliff are peopled with fantastic forms of pine and cypress. Sumptuous
• 6:57:29
  in somber green, or shagged with gray pennons of moss. Once the road
• 6:57:34
  ran for a mile or two under a deep cypress arbor, a green and
• 6:57:40
  brown tunnel, lighted dimly by windows that opened on brilliant seas and echoing with
• 6:57:47
  cadence of surf and scream of roving gull Many of the trees lie prone on
• 6:57:55
  the brown floor, mere tumbles of mossy green. Others are amphorous monsters with
• 6:58:02
  huge rheumatic knees and elbows, gray as the very bones of time. At
• 6:58:10
  Cypress Point, the outer headland of the peninsula, where winds career most wildly,
• 6:58:15
  the gautd wardens of the cliff have been torn, twisted, hunched,
• 6:58:21
  wrenched, battered, and hammered to the limit of tree resemblance. They make
• 6:58:27
  a Homeric looking company and tell a stirring tale of battle with every gust of
• 6:58:33
  rugged wind that blows from off that beaked promontory. Beyond Cypress Point, the
• 6:58:41
  shore falls to dunes of white sand, splashed with creeping sea herbage, and
• 6:58:47
  trending northeasterly to Point Pinos at the southern horn of Monterey Bay. Inland,
• 6:58:55
  the ground rises wooded everywhere with pines, and it was deep pleasure to rise.
• 6:59:00
  I had slowly along hour after hour in that fine companionship, on one
• 6:59:06
  hand, the comfortable sigh of forest, on the other, the long,
• 6:59:11
  solitary surge of the Pacific. By evening we were entering the pretty seaside town
• 6:59:18
  of Pacific Grove. The tolling of a train bell sounded strangely in my ears,
• 6:59:23
  for we had parted company with the locomotives at Saint Luibispo several weeks before.
• 6:59:30
  As we passed the military reservation, the sunset gun boomed from the presidio
• 6:59:37
  whereat Anton performed a most spectacular jump, and then a little pass searle,
• 6:59:42
  which furnished some excitement from the smart soldier boys. Complicated odors of fish and
• 6:59:51
  antiquity met us as we entered Monterey, where the street cars wrought Anton's nerves
• 6:59:56
  to a point of desperation. I piloted him by backways to a stable and
• 7:00:03
  found myself a lodging at the house of a charming Spanish lady, to whom
• 7:00:07
  I brought a letter of introduction from my good friends at Lompoc. Monterey forms
• 7:00:14
  almost a compendium of the history of California. It was only half a century
• 7:00:19
  after the first voyage of Columbus that Juan Rodrigues Cabrio sailed into the bay and
• 7:00:26
  the first civilized anchor dropped into its quiet waters. Sixty years later came Sebastian
• 7:00:34
  Viscno and claimed the soil for Spain, giving the port the name of his
• 7:00:40
  patron, the Count of monte Rey, then Viceroy of Mexico. That would
• 7:00:47
  be in sixteen o two, five years before the Jamestown settlement was made on
• 7:00:52
  the other coast, and from that time down to the end of Mexico's ownership,
• 7:00:56
  Monterey remained the capital of the province of Alta, California. Dana gives
• 7:01:03
  a picture of the town as he saw it in eighteen thirty five, towards
• 7:01:08
  the end of the old regime. Quote the pretty lawn on which it stands,
• 7:01:15
  as green as sun and rain could make it. The pine wood on
• 7:01:18
  the south, the small river on the north side, the houses with their
• 7:01:22
  white plastered sides and red tiled roofs dotted about on the green, the low
• 7:01:29
  white presidio with its soiled tricoloured flag flying, and the discordant din of drums
• 7:01:36
  and trumpets for the noon parade. Much of the air of its early days
• 7:01:41
  still pervades the place and makes it, in a way the most interesting town
• 7:01:47
  in California. The green lawn has gone, but many of the low adobe
• 7:01:52
  houses remain, and a good part of the population is Spanish or Mexican still.
• 7:01:56
  And my hostess don Ya Cameli, herself a resident of Monterey from girlhood,
• 7:02:03
  has not a few compatriots with whom to talk over the old gay,
• 7:02:07
  easy days that lingered here long after the rest of California had been charged with
• 7:02:12
  American energy. Monterey, and not the Mission Dolores in San Francisco, as
• 7:02:19
  Brett Hart expected, seems destined to be the last sigh of the native Californian.
• 7:02:29
  Many of the buildings are ticketed with some legend to attract the interest of
• 7:02:33
  tourists. Generally, a claim to being the first or last of their kind
• 7:02:37
  or purpose in the state is the theme. Here is the first brick house,
• 7:02:42
  and here is the first one built of lumber. That low shady house
• 7:02:48
  was the home of Governor Alvarado, one of the last governors of the Mexican
• 7:02:52
  province. And at the bottom of the street that bears his name. Is
• 7:02:56
  the Custom House, where, on the seventh of July eighteen forty six,
• 7:03:02
  the flag of the United States took the place of that which Dana saw flying.
• 7:03:07
  Nearby is the First Theater, and on the hill is a large frame
• 7:03:11
  building which served as the first state capitol. A ramshackle wooden house on a
• 7:03:18
  side street hoists the sign R. Stevenson House. I was not sorry to
• 7:03:26
  find that the authenticity of this particular relic was denied by my hostess, who
• 7:03:30
  declared that Stephenson was merely an occasional visitor at the house in question, and
• 7:03:36
  that he lived in a house and now pulled down adjoining the one which professes
• 7:03:41
  to have been occupied by the last American consul, Thomas O. Larkin.
• 7:03:47
  As circumstantial evidence, the Senora confessed how she and others of the vivacious damsels
• 7:03:55
  of Monterey used to watch from the windows of the opposite house where she lived
• 7:04:00
  Stevenson, Keith the painter, and other cronies as they smoked and joked on
• 7:04:04
  the verandah of the lark In house. It must go hard with every lover
• 7:04:11
  of the gentle Scott to think of him as inhabiting that other dismal shell,
• 7:04:15
  the ugliest house I think in all Monterey. I looked in at some of
• 7:04:22
  the windows and saw only bare, whitewashed rooms with broken walls and floors.
• 7:04:27
  There was a notable debris of empty bottles, and in one room it seemed
• 7:04:33
  that some conscious, stricken carouser had sought to dispose of his incriminating evidence by
• 7:04:38
  stuffing it under the flooring. Whence the necks of more bottles protruding in a
• 7:04:44
  waggish fashion, as though they were tipping the wink to the spectator. At
• 7:04:49
  one end of the house, an outside stairway led to the upper floor.
• 7:04:55
  At the other was a square of garden ground in a corner of which a
• 7:04:59
  few extershams and stalks of mint grew in a secret and furtive manner. Overall,
• 7:05:06
  there ruled a quaint, old and odor rare in this country, which
• 7:05:11
  oddly reminded me of English armshouses. In a walk about the outskirts of the
• 7:05:17
  town, I came upon the old church, often called the Mission of San
• 7:05:21
  Carlos, having always been the parish church of Monterey. It escaped the ruin
• 7:05:26
  that fell upon its sisters, and is today at the age of nearly one
• 7:05:30
  hundred and twenty years a handsome solid building. I was struck by the strange
• 7:05:37
  appearance of the pavement to the courtyard, which was laid with circular blocks of
• 7:05:41
  some whitish material that was like and yet unlike stone. They proved to be
• 7:05:48
  the vertebrae of Wales, and reminded me that Monterey had once a whaling industry
• 7:05:53
  of some importance. Near the bay, I found a building which was formerly
• 7:05:59
  the office of the Monterey Whaling Company. The last of the old whaling men
• 7:06:04
  of Monterey may still be seen haunting the water front, and in the maritime
• 7:06:10
  store you may see a bomb gun awaiting the next purchaser, who will never
• 7:06:15
  appear. In the bay, a mixture of dories, lanteen sailed fishing craft,
• 7:06:22
  steam launches, and glass bottomed observation boats from which tourists may spy out
• 7:06:27
  the wonders of Davy Jones's locker mark the intermingling of the old and the newer
• 7:06:33
  interests. It was evening as I walked again up the long street. As
• 7:06:40
  I passed along, I encountered now a tinkle of mandolins, now an odor
• 7:06:45
  of Spanish cookery and roses tangled together quite unspeakable. Children played in the cypress
• 7:06:53
  shaded gardens, or sat at the doors of the hunchbacked adobies with their fathers
• 7:06:57
  and mothers. On a side street, a modern wooden church with a painful
• 7:07:03
  spire was lighted up, probably for choir practice Protestant. As I am,
• 7:07:11
  I turned away and walked again past the old Catholic mission. The last swallows
• 7:07:18
  were wheeling home, and the sparrows in the ivy were sleepily garrulous. The
• 7:07:25
  fading light lingered on the crumbling cornices, and the tile capped belfry rose peaceably
• 7:07:32
  into the clear dusk of the sky. After all, age is a kind
• 7:07:38
  of sacrament. Chapter seventeen. A change of scenery. The Salinas River,
• 7:07:47
  Castroville, moss landing trees and whitewash. A Jocond cavalier, Watsonville, Metropolis
• 7:07:57
  of apples, aptos, why aptos, the city of Santa Cruz, another
• 7:08:07
  inland of vergence, box teams, the Santa Cruz Redwoods dedicated to triviality.
• 7:08:15
  Ben Lomond a catechism. The California Redwood Park redwoods compared with the big trees.
• 7:08:25
  A forest trail again at the coast, Pigeon Point Pescadero, a bibulous
• 7:08:33
  banker to strike the direct road to the north. On leaving Monterey, I
• 7:08:40
  took a direct shortcut through the grounds of the Hotel del Monte, where my
• 7:08:45
  dress and equipment are now showing the wear and stains of four months travel.
• 7:08:51
  Seemed to arouse the amazement and perhaps the indignation of the idle rich. Then,
• 7:08:57
  after passing the embryo city of Seaside, where avenues and broadways had been
• 7:09:03
  laid off in readiness of for a hampsome population, we took the sand Hills
• 7:09:08
  road near the coast, instead of the cliffs and canyons of the coast Range.
• 7:09:15
  A low expanse of brush land now laid to the east. On my
• 7:09:19
  left was the wide Bay of Monterey, blue as the word can mean,
• 7:09:26
  backed by faint purple mountains where it curved round to the north. The day
• 7:09:32
  was hot and the road tedious and so heavy that I dismounted and led Anton
• 7:09:37
  to save him my weight. The sea was now barred from sight by dunes
• 7:09:44
  of sand, but hour after hour its soft thunder accompanied us as we toiled
• 7:09:51
  along a road deep in sand and through a dry and almost uninhabited country.
• 7:09:57
  At noon, we stopped for an hour by a pool of brackish water with
• 7:10:02
  a fringe of long grass, which was a bonanza for Anton, for he
• 7:10:06
  had long been a stranger to that kind of forage. About mid afternoon I
• 7:10:11
  guessed by the increasing roar that we were approaching the mouth of the Salinas River,
• 7:10:18
  and in due time we crossed the bridge over the wide green stream,
• 7:10:22
  a mile or so above the bar, at which a great surf was breaking.
• 7:10:27
  Just ahead lay the little town of Castroville, planted handily in the neck
• 7:10:33
  of the Salinas Valley. From this vantage point I had a fine view all
• 7:10:40
  up the long straight valley which lies between the rages of the Santa Lucia bordering
• 7:10:45
  the coast and the Inner Coast Range, which divides the valley of the Salinas
• 7:10:51
  from the San Joaquin, the great central Valley of California. Here I was
• 7:10:57
  again in a land of fire. The country had a rich appearance. Cars
• 7:11:04
  of beats stood on the railway tracks, destined to a sugar factory a few
• 7:11:08
  miles distant, and the threshers were busy with the late barley. The inland
• 7:11:15
  heat was rather trying, and I determined to make for moss Landing on the
• 7:11:21
  coast a few miles away. Following the directions of an old man whose confident
• 7:11:26
  manner imposed on me, I left Castroville on the right and turned into a
• 7:11:32
  road that seemed to lead directly there. After following it for a couple of
• 7:11:37
  miles, Anton, pretty tired and eyeing every barn and gateway with anxiety,
• 7:11:42
  the road came to an end, and a wide slough, quite impassable,
• 7:11:48
  barred the way. With hearty blessings on that old gentleman, we returned to
• 7:11:56
  Castroville and took the main road, arriving at the village of Landing long after
• 7:12:00
  dark. It took my utmost arguments to persuade the hotel keeper to get me
• 7:12:07
  supper of bread and beef and tepid coffee. The place had just been thrown
• 7:12:14
  into excitement by the arrival of a harvester crew of eighteen or twenty men,
• 7:12:18
  who kept up a sort of strange procession as they circulated through the saloon.
• 7:12:26
  Fraternal squads passed in hurriedly to emerge in two or three minutes with impressive wipings
• 7:12:33
  of lips. A few moments sufficed to change the composition of the groups,
• 7:12:37
  and they lurched in again with a fresh access of thirst. Morning showed that
• 7:12:45
  Moss Landing possesses wharves and other facilities of commerce, and I found that a
• 7:12:49
  good deal of grain and other farm produce is shipped from this little place For
• 7:12:55
  the rest. I gather that in winter it is a main resort of duck
• 7:12:59
  hunters. The landlord told me that he often shot ducks from his back door,
• 7:13:04
  which there was no reason to doubt, since her family of them were
• 7:13:07
  peaceably quacking fifteen feet away from the table at which I was eating breakfast.
• 7:13:15
  It was a fine morning, sunny but cool. The road led among placid
• 7:13:22
  lagoons, where platoons of sea fowl maneuvering, and old boats lay moored at
• 7:13:26
  oozy landing stages. Groves of eucalyptus gave off their finest scents after the dewy
• 7:13:34
  night, and the mountains to the north were now near enough to show the
• 7:13:38
  timber on their crest that sight always so refreshing and delightful. Trees in park
• 7:13:47
  or garden are good, for trees are always good. Trees on open plain
• 7:13:52
  are better, but trees on a mountain skyline seemed to me to make the
• 7:13:57
  acme of charm natural scenery. The people of this region are strong on that
• 7:14:04
  excellent thing, whitewash. The farmhouses gleamed like patches of snow against the brown
• 7:14:11
  hills, and the roadside cottages were whitened to ultra whiteness and made the prettiest
• 7:14:18
  of pictures with their gardens of blazing nasturtiums and geraniums. All was a charming
• 7:14:25
  combination in connection with whitewash, suggesting contentment. Pinafores, bread and milk,
• 7:14:33
  and such wholesome childlike things had a rise of the ground. I came in
• 7:14:38
  sight of a brother horseman who was riding towards me. He was singing and
• 7:14:44
  loudly too, but ceased when he saw me. Now why must he do
• 7:14:48
  that? How delightful it would be if only this confounded mock modesty could be
• 7:14:55
  got rid of. He and I, for instance, could have met unabad,
• 7:15:00
  each trolling our hey, nonny, nonny, or whatever it might be,
• 7:15:04
  with no silly thought of looking silly, but instead just some courteous gesture
• 7:15:10
  of appreciation or a word of applause. But no, we must only pass
• 7:15:17
  our dull good morning sir, And how do you do, sir? And
• 7:15:21
  go on our ways? I heard him break out again, though as soon
• 7:15:26
  as he knew my back was turned. Some hours of easy riding, in
• 7:15:30
  the course of which I crossed into the next county Santa Cruz, brought me
• 7:15:36
  to the valley of the Paharo here a slow winding, reedy stream. By
• 7:15:41
  noon we were at Watsonville, the California metropolis of apples. Certain peculiarities of
• 7:15:51
  soil and climate in this valley combined to favor this particular crop. But march
• 7:15:56
  is due also to an element of European thoroughrnus. The careful, old fashioned
• 7:16:03
  methods of a colony of Dalmatians who settled here many years ago have brought the
• 7:16:08
  industry to such a success that in California, to hear of apples is to
• 7:16:14
  think of Watsonville. I was told that the bulk and the best of the
• 7:16:19
  orchards lay along the foothills to the north. But I rode through mile on
• 7:16:26
  mile of prosperous groves where harvest was just beginning, and wagons in long procession
• 7:16:33
  passed me loaded with fragrant boxes bound for the railway. After passing a small
• 7:16:40
  village formerly known as Whiskey Hill, but now decorously named Freedom. The road
• 7:16:47
  began to enter the hills, and soon redwoods and spruces appeared. Pretty mountain
• 7:16:53
  orchards clung to the hillsides, the thrifty vines and fruit trees running up to
• 7:16:59
  meet them. Timber and mountain brush bracken grew along the roadside, mingled with
• 7:17:04
  wild oats and yellow autumn flowers, and my spirits rose automatically, as they
• 7:17:11
  always do at the prospect of mountains and forests. The long steep road was
• 7:17:18
  not too long for me, though Anton's pace was jaded and dark had fallen
• 7:17:23
  before we reached our quarters for the night at Aptos. Usually it is not
• 7:17:30
  difficult to trace the origin of the names of Western towns, for their histories
• 7:17:36
  are seldom long. But I ask in vain for the derivation of this Greek
• 7:17:41
  sounding word. Who or what was Aptos? I applied to my landlord,
• 7:17:48
  but he could only answer my question with another aptos Aptos. Well, Aptos
• 7:17:55
  is a good name, ain't it. A quartet of Laptossians arrived after supper
• 7:18:02
  to dangle for an hour about the porch and cultivate the social side by one
• 7:18:07
  of those friendly contests of mingled grossness and profanity which pass so often for wit
• 7:18:14
  in the rural life of the West. From this hideous atmosphere, I escaped
• 7:18:19
  to wander for an hour among the redwoods and listened to the mutter of the
• 7:18:23
  sea as it broke against the cliffs half a mile away. An easy ride
• 7:18:30
  next morning, through quiet rural roads and a village or two where loafers on
• 7:18:36
  sugar barrels were dallying with watermelons, brought us to the city of Santa Cruz,
• 7:18:41
  lying at the north bend of Monterey Bay. It has a population of
• 7:18:47
  some twelve thousand, and seemed to me a staid, ordinary kind of place,
• 7:18:52
  though it is much in request as a rendezvous for conventions, and is
• 7:18:56
  certainly endowed with an unusually fine bathing beach. Here once stood another of the
• 7:19:03
  Franciscan missions, but no trace of it remains. The mountain belt that rises
• 7:19:11
  to the north of Santa Cruz carries a particularly fine forest of redwoods. I
• 7:19:18
  could not think of missing these noble giants, so once more I abandoned the
• 7:19:22
  coast for a few days and struck directly into the mountains. The road followed
• 7:19:27
  the course of the beautiful San Lorenzo River, and I was soon again in
• 7:19:32
  the companionship of the trees, a mingling of sequoia, spruce, alder,
• 7:19:37
  bay, box elder, and maple. The canyon is a deep one,
• 7:19:42
  and the narrow road is cut into its western side, giving fine views up
• 7:19:48
  and down the wooded gorge. Automobiles were unusually numerous and irresponsible, charging down
• 7:19:56
  on us round the sharpest curves with no formalities of horn blowing. After Anton
• 7:20:03
  had passed through various stages of indignation and alarm, he could see nothing for
• 7:20:08
  it but to turn and bolt from every car we met. And I had
• 7:20:12
  some exciting moments while we pirouetted about on the edge of the five hundred foot
• 7:20:18
  chasm. As I was eating my lunch by a spring beside the road,
• 7:20:23
  a sound of shouting began to come up out of the canyon. It was
• 7:20:29
  in a particular sing song drawl, and came nearer and nearer, until when
• 7:20:33
  it arrived close to where I sat. I stood up to see what phenomenon
• 7:20:37
  was about to appear. There was a creaking and a crashing of underbrush,
• 7:20:44
  and then the heads of a yoke of oxen rose above the level of the
• 7:20:47
  road, and so remained while two pairs of solemn eyes took stock of me
• 7:20:52
  and my companion. Gradually six yoke emerged, followed by a man the Goad,
• 7:21:00
  who was the author of the melancholy music, and then by a wagon
• 7:21:04
  and trailer, on which was a single huge log of redwood. They went
• 7:21:11
  quartering about from side to side of the road, and when four similar processions
• 7:21:17
  had followed them, and they all came to anchor, the hubbub ceased,
• 7:21:21
  half the oxen laid down, and the drivers gathered at the spring for the
• 7:21:25
  noon meal. They were swarthy, bullet headed fellows, and proved all to
• 7:21:30
  be Portuguese, speaking no English, so that our conversation was limited. However,
• 7:21:37
  it was full of goodwill, expressed in a friendly interchange of wine and
• 7:21:41
  tobacco. Just beyond the side road led off to a grove of exceptionally fine
• 7:21:48
  sequoias. I found the spot given up to picnic arrangements, and the trees
• 7:21:52
  themselves bespattered with business cards and unsightly scrawlings. One of the two of the
• 7:21:59
  largest inscriptions dedicated to the Los Angeles produce Exchange by the San Francisco Dairian fruit
• 7:22:07
  exchange and dedicated to reading Commandery number forty two Knights Templars of Pennsylvania. I
• 7:22:17
  pondered these inexplicable labels for some time, and could only conclude that they were
• 7:22:22
  examples of the same pitiful ambition that Hamlet observed in a certain kind of players.
• 7:22:30
  The great trees themselves, if one could get them free of these trivialities,
• 7:22:36
  are wonderful and stately enough, the tall tapering shafts rising in superb grace
• 7:22:41
  and power, flecked with purple and gold, along their fluted channelings. A
• 7:22:48
  forest of their kind surrounds them, mingled with a few other species, and
• 7:22:53
  the clear, bright river ripples or steals along as seductively as river can do.
• 7:23:02
  But I never can enjoy these spots dedicated to beer and sandwiches, or
• 7:23:06
  even to masons and buttermen. And I was soon glad to turn away.
• 7:23:12
  A long mountain ridge rose on my left, named ben Lomond, and this
• 7:23:18
  hot day I sighed for a little of the authentic ben loman atmosphere of rain
• 7:23:22
  or mist. The locality abounds in handsome country houses, all with Scottish names
• 7:23:30
  such as Bonnie Doone Strathspey, brack and Bray, and Rowardenen. I put
• 7:23:38
  up for the night at the pretty little village of Ben Lomond, where the
• 7:23:41
  arrival of a traveler of my order is so rare an event that the children
• 7:23:47
  playing in the oak shaded street sent a deputation to interview me and ask a
• 7:23:52
  few explicit questions. Who are you, what do you do, where do
• 7:23:57
  you come from? And where are you going? I explained with equal straightforwardness
• 7:24:04
  that I was Alexander Selkirk, an anthropophagus by profession, residing regularly in Kamchatka,
• 7:24:12
  but at present on my way to visit the cham of Tartary, and
• 7:24:18
  was pleased to see that the frankness of my replies afforded general satisfaction. Our
• 7:24:25
  road next day continued for a few miles along the canyon of the San Lorenzo
• 7:24:29
  as far as a small town called Bolder Creek, chiefly remarkable for supporting an
• 7:24:34
  equipment of twenty one saloons. From here I turned more westerly, following the
• 7:24:41
  course of the pretty stream from which the town is named, in order to
• 7:24:45
  visit the California Redwood Park, a tract of specially fine timber which has been
• 7:24:52
  rescued by the state from destruction and set aside as a public pleasure ground.
• 7:24:57
  Again, autumn bills were trying for we were getting within the range of the
• 7:25:03
  San Francisco Pleasure travel and Anton and I often condoled over our wrongs. At
• 7:25:11
  the first opportunity, I turned into a side road rough enough to discourage the
• 7:25:15
  hardiest chauffeur, and soon found a trail which led through a magnificent forest to
• 7:25:22
  the park. The summer crop of tourists had departed, and I found that
• 7:25:26
  the warden, whose duty it is to assign camping places to visitors, had
• 7:25:30
  gone huckleberrying like a wise official. This suited me well, and I made
• 7:25:37
  haste to pitch camp under a stately redwood, despite the warnings of a quarrelsome
• 7:25:42
  colony of squirrels. Here I spent a delightful sunday wandering beside brown creeks and
• 7:25:52
  superb sequoirs and scarcely infurious spruces, and enjoying a veritable feast of huckleberries.
• 7:26:00
  It was my first introduction to the plant, and I found a double zest
• 7:26:04
  in the fruit when I saw what a sprightly and beautiful shrub supplied it.
• 7:26:11
  I found the impressiveness of these splendid redwoods to be quite unlike that of their
• 7:26:17
  relatives, the giant trees of the Sierra Nevada. Many of the trees in
• 7:26:22
  this belt of forest reached a diameter over fifteen feet at a height of three
• 7:26:27
  hundred the age of such patriarchs being known to exceed ten centuries. But they
• 7:26:36
  seemed to me to lack that individual majesty of bearing which the others express,
• 7:26:41
  and to gain their distinction rather from the cumulative effect of their statuesque beauty,
• 7:26:48
  than from the solemnity of ponderous size and of primogeniture among living things. I
• 7:26:56
  now turned again coastwards over a trail that traversed an another noble track of timber,
• 7:27:02
  known as the Big Basin. The shade was almost unbroken, and the
• 7:27:07
  trail carpeted deeply with fallen leads of madronio and tan bark oak. For hours,
• 7:27:15
  the silence was unbroken but for Anton's muffled footfalls and a curious, distant
• 7:27:22
  sound which greatly interested him, and which I guessed to be the moan of
• 7:27:26
  the siren at Pigeon Point, seven miles away. Now and then an acorn
• 7:27:33
  dropped sharply, or at a push of wind, a few leaves came whispering
• 7:27:38
  down. The great stems of the redwoods were powdered with the gray rime of
• 7:27:44
  age, and the foliage showed the rich tinge of russet peculiar to this evergreen,
• 7:27:51
  the dead leaves of which long remain attached to the tree. My admiration
• 7:27:56
  was constantly divided between the excres visit symmetry of the redwoods, the rugged magnificence
• 7:28:03
  of the bruces, and the rich red gleam of the madronio stems. The
• 7:28:10
  forest flowers were long past, but there was no lack for them, for
• 7:28:15
  here was a touch of scarlet or crimson from frost stained poison oak. There
• 7:28:19
  a yellowing leaf spray of tan bark oak. All was gold, green,
• 7:28:26
  purple, and the sensitive warmer wan tones of autumn. So we lounged along
• 7:28:36
  a mile an hour. Anton was always curious about my note book. Usually
• 7:28:41
  I did my scribbling in the saddle, but when I was leading him and
• 7:28:45
  stopped to write, he would watch me with his head a little cocked and
• 7:28:51
  a puzzled air that plainly asked, what on earth are you always up to
• 7:28:56
  with that bit of stick. After our miles, we crossed the west fork
• 7:29:02
  of Waddell Creek, at a lovely place of dim pools, mossed rocks,
• 7:29:07
  and waving ferns. Reaching the next crest on a sudden we were among arid
• 7:29:14
  brush and digger pines, with a blaze of sunlight reflected from a white shayly
• 7:29:19
  soil. After the hours of greenness and dim religious light, the change was
• 7:29:26
  startling. At the next rise, I looked out upon the familiar sight of
• 7:29:32
  a deep seaward canyon, up which the fog was creeping. Its waves were
• 7:29:37
  just rosy by the evening sun, and timbered shoulders of mountains stood up darkly
• 7:29:44
  purple through the fleecy sea. Down this canyon, we pursued our way in
• 7:29:49
  thoughtful mood, attuned to the gathering shadows, and came by dusk to a
• 7:29:56
  lonely ranch, where I made application for our lodging. The good people made
• 7:30:02
  us welcome, and I enjoyed the unwonted luxury of a table piled with magazines
• 7:30:07
  beside the social hearth of a cultivated family. A few miles of travel next
• 7:30:15
  day, down the canyon of white Horse Creek, brought me to the coast
• 7:30:19
  at Franklin Point. A thin mist overhung sea and shore, and through it
• 7:30:26
  I could dimly see in the south point an Yu Nuevo, with a lighthouse
• 7:30:30
  on the adjacent little island. The coast here, though not high, is
• 7:30:37
  picturesque, with scattered rocks and a sea vexed into continual turmoil. Five miles
• 7:30:45
  to the north is the hamlet of Pigeon Point. A handsome lighthouse stands on
• 7:30:51
  the cliff. I like to pay my respects to these beneficent sentinels, so
• 7:30:56
  I called there and was courteously shown over the building by one of the officers,
• 7:31:00
  who explained to me the latest triumphs of invention in lighthouse equipment. From
• 7:31:07
  Pigeon Point, the road passed for mile on mile through a gray land inordinately
• 7:31:14
  dusty and palliated only by occasional boons in the shape of thickets of golden rod
• 7:31:19
  or a sprinkling of lavender asters. A dull sea with an uneasy voice kept
• 7:31:26
  us close company, and about once an hour we met a team or pasted
• 7:31:32
  a lichened farmhouse. After crossing a lagoon which lies at the mouth of the
• 7:31:38
  Arroyo Delos Free holis. Thus does the Spanish ingrand eyes even the humble bean
• 7:31:45
  Creek. The road lay along the cliff beside Pebble Beach, locally famous for
• 7:31:51
  agates and moonstones. A hotel stood on the bluff, with no other house
• 7:31:57
  in sight, and no appearing of having so much as a solitary guest to
• 7:32:02
  entertain. Its windy desolation was so discouraging that I could not bring myself to
• 7:32:08
  try their entertainment, though it was time to think of stopping. Before long,
• 7:32:14
  I found a road leading inland, and turning into it, came to
• 7:32:18
  a broad, green canyon with a winding creek. A couple of miles away,
• 7:32:23
  I saw the little town of Pescadero, standing prettily backed by wooded ridges,
• 7:32:29
  its white houses shining in the evening sun. In due course we marched
• 7:32:34
  into town, where I was just in time for supper at the comfortable Inn.
• 7:32:41
  The experience of Moss Landing was repeated. A party of bibulous sportsmen arrived
• 7:32:47
  during the evening and pervaded the place with noise and profanity. When I learned
• 7:32:52
  that the noisiest, thirstiest, and most obscene of the group was a banker
• 7:32:56
  of San Francisco, I can gratulated myself that no funds of mine were in
• 7:33:03
  his keeping, and hoped that warning visions might be vouchsafe to his clients in
• 7:33:08
  their dreams. Chapter eighteen. Dust and wild Flowers, Half Moon Bay,
• 7:33:17
  gilt edged real estate, the Montera Mountain Coast, first view of San Francisco
• 7:33:23
  Bay, Colmer an Italian lodging house, San Francisco as in nineteen hundred and
• 7:33:32
  six and now Bohemia. Stevenson the Mission, Dolores Ferry to Sosulido, Mill
• 7:33:41
  Valley, Mount tamil Pius, A famous view, the Mure Woods, more
• 7:33:48
  splendid redwoods, Willow Camp, the first rain, Bellinus Lagoon, Lonely Country
• 7:33:56
  and a lonely ranch. A pleasant meeting, Drake's Bay, the Golden Hind,
• 7:34:04
  the first Protestant service on Pacific Shores, Drake's Monument, and Drake's Drum.
• 7:34:14
  In the last day's travel, we had crossed from Santa Cruz into San
• 7:34:18
  Mateo County, now ensued twenty miles of dreadful dust, but compensated by a
• 7:34:26
  grateful scarcity of automobiles. Though we were now nearing San Francisco and were almost
• 7:34:32
  in the latitude of the South End of the bay. The coast road is
• 7:34:36
  continuously hilly, and the great bulk of travel follows the level inland road by
• 7:34:41
  way of Palo Alto and Sanrzo. Brown monotonous hills rolled along the east,
• 7:34:51
  treeless but for occasional clumps of eucalyptus that marked the rare farmhouses. Now and
• 7:34:57
  then the road came out upon high whitish cliffs, fringed with a broad band
• 7:35:03
  of surf, the growl of which was a matter of never failing interest to
• 7:35:08
  Anton. Fog obscured the ocean at a mile or two from shore. The
• 7:35:15
  roadside bushes were drab with five months of drought, but a few asters and
• 7:35:21
  late wild roses still kept their cheerful smiles, and their petals were as pure
• 7:35:26
  and bright as though newly washed by the rains of spring, a miracle which
• 7:35:33
  I never ceased to admire. In wild flowers in general, and those of
• 7:35:37
  our dry California summers, especially at the village of San Gregorio. I noted
• 7:35:44
  one reason for the small amount of travel on the road when I saw the
• 7:35:48
  collection of wagons that were drawn up awaiting their drivers, who were circulating industriously
• 7:35:55
  from saloon to saloon. Nearing to Anita's Creek, we were greeted by the
• 7:36:02
  screech of a locomotive, and I found that we were at the temporary terminus
• 7:36:07
  of the Ocean Shore or railroad, which comes down the coast, thus far
• 7:36:11
  from San Francisco. Then we passed a straggling settlement named Purissima, the capital
• 7:36:19
  so to speak, of a grant of land, enjoying the lengthy title of
• 7:36:23
  Canyada verde e Arroyo de la Purissima, and soon arrived at the town of
• 7:36:32
  Half Moon Bay, lying a mile inland from the shore of the bay itself,
• 7:36:37
  which I could see curving round to the northwest, where it terminated in
• 7:36:41
  the promontory of Pillar Point. It was still fairly early, but I felt
• 7:36:47
  really unable to face any more dust for one day, so we sought our
• 7:36:52
  respective quarters, and I, for my part, subsided without delay into a
• 7:36:59
  bath. Next day was the equinox, and the morning was dull, threatening,
• 7:37:06
  or a better way of putting it, promising rain. We were early
• 7:37:11
  on the road which rounded the head of the bay, passing through a number
• 7:37:15
  of newborn cities whose existence was to be known mainly by pitiful little cement sidewalks.
• 7:37:22
  Already bulging and broken, each place in succession adjured me by stentorian sign
• 7:37:30
  boards, not to midst the wealth that awaited investors in its gilt edged lots.
• 7:37:37
  It was a boon to exchange the songs of these financial sirens for the
• 7:37:42
  charms of a sea and sky alike, of wistful gray, lighted over and
• 7:37:49
  anon by gleams of gold that bore no hint of real estate. The road
• 7:37:57
  came again to the shore at monteg Point, where there is a small lighthouse
• 7:38:03
  a mile ahead of fine mountain came sharply to the sea, and I could
• 7:38:07
  trace a road graded steeply over it. I had not expected another taste of
• 7:38:14
  the mountains so near as I was now to San Francisco, and I rejoiced
• 7:38:18
  at the site. We soon began the climb, which brought magnificent views of
• 7:38:25
  cliff and sea, often several hundred feet almost sheer below. The mist lay
• 7:38:32
  thickly over the water at a little distance from shore, and I had to
• 7:38:36
  leave to the mine's eye the view I had anticipated of the sails or smoke
• 7:38:41
  of many vessels making it to the Golden Gate. From the summit of the
• 7:38:47
  grade, I looked out to the north upon the green valley of San Pedro
• 7:38:52
  and the long line of cliff shore that runs to the entrance of the great
• 7:38:56
  bay. Below. The fire in headland of San Pedro point stood out to
• 7:39:03
  the west, ending in a picturesque little island pinnacled like an iceberg, and
• 7:39:08
  farther to the north I could just discern the outline of the high, bald
• 7:39:14
  coast of Marin. A steep descent followed by a few miles of monotonous road,
• 7:39:21
  brought us to Laguna Salada, where I found an ambitious hotel and another
• 7:39:26
  array of empty streets and avenues. Then came a winding road which at length
• 7:39:33
  turned inland and climbed along ascent. At the top, I turned in my
• 7:39:38
  saddle to take, as I thought, a backward view of the country I
• 7:39:42
  had been traveling. To my surprise, I saw nothing that I could recognize,
• 7:39:48
  but instead a coastline entirely strange to me. After a puzzled moment,
• 7:39:56
  it dawned upon me that I was looking down upon the Bay of Sa Francisco,
• 7:40:00
  and we took a few minutes rest while I digested the fact and congratulated
• 7:40:06
  myself on having reached this salient point of the expedition. Opposite rose the long
• 7:40:14
  brown ridge of San Bruno Mountain and the small town of Colma at its foot.
• 7:40:22
  I turned Anton toward it, and after interminable miles of vegetable gardens,
• 7:40:27
  arrived in the town by evening to find that there was neither hotel nor livery
• 7:40:33
  stable in the place. San Francisco was still several miles away, and Anton
• 7:40:40
  was tired, so I was averse to going any further. With some difficulty,
• 7:40:45
  I got Anton accommodated at a private stable and found a bed for myself
• 7:40:49
  at an Italian lodging house, which was also a saloon. There I dined
• 7:40:56
  on soup, macaroni and the thinnest of wine with the proprietor, who bore
• 7:41:02
  an astonishing likeness to the Emperor Nero, his jolly wife and baby, and
• 7:41:07
  eleven other sons of Italy. During the evening, the landlord entertained the company
• 7:41:15
  with operatic airs on his accordion, a complicated instrument which he played with remarkable
• 7:41:21
  skill, while the wife, with the greatest good humor, performed peasant dances
• 7:41:26
  for us amid our cheers, and the fat baby tumbled happily about on the
• 7:41:32
  pool table in the delicate olive costume in which she was born. The population
• 7:41:38
  of Calma is almost entirely Italian, and I could better imagine myself in Naples
• 7:41:45
  than on the edge of San Francisco. Nonetheless, so while I tossed about
• 7:41:48
  all night on a straw mattress, tortured by fleas and mosquitoes of truly Neapolitan
• 7:41:56
  ferocity, next morning, with the one eye which the mosquitoes had left in
• 7:42:03
  condition, I piloted Anton among unlimited electric cars and automobiles into San Francisco and
• 7:42:10
  left him at a stable on Mission Street. Matters of tailoring, boot making,
• 7:42:17
  and other small affairs detained me in the city for a few days,
• 7:42:21
  during which time I enlarged the acquaintance with New San Francisco which I had begun
• 7:42:26
  on my last visit, soon after the historic disaster of nineteen hundred and six.
• 7:42:34
  My recollections of that time were of a sahara of choking gray dust,
• 7:42:41
  through which loomed the ruins apparently of some city of antiquity just discovered and in
• 7:42:48
  the process of being excavated. As I climbed then down the hummocky streets,
• 7:42:55
  I looked down into gaping chasms, hideous with debris, among which sat files
• 7:43:00
  of gritty goblins, chip chipping away eternally. At mountains of old bricks,
• 7:43:07
  the air rang with the sound of their trowels. Huge girders and shafts of
• 7:43:15
  smoke black masonry rose spectrally here and there, and from the sides of the
• 7:43:19
  pits, twisted pipes projected with a ghostly resemblance to severed arteries. I found
• 7:43:29
  now a splendid city of steel and marble, with monster hotels, palatial banks,
• 7:43:37
  and skyscraping office buildings. Here and there a vacant lots still gaped like
• 7:43:44
  a missing tooth and hinted the grim words fire and earthquake. But wonderful as
• 7:43:52
  the resurrection had been, I found, as usual that the features of the
• 7:43:56
  new place attracted me in inverse ratio to their newness. There was less of
• 7:44:03
  pleasure to feast at the Saint Francis than at the Cafe de la tour He
• 7:44:08
  fell, where one walks on sanded floors, sits at old tables larded with
• 7:44:15
  the steam of thirty thousand diners, and dines off cabbage, soup, boiled
• 7:44:19
  beef, and wine decidedly ordinaire with a company is perhaps as much Alsatian as
• 7:44:26
  Bohemian, and probably as worth noticing as that which one could meet at the
• 7:44:33
  famous club. Monsieur Defarge had moreover legends of Stephenson to relate, and directed
• 7:44:40
  me to Portsmouth Square near by, where I found the monument to his memory,
• 7:44:45
  fortunately spared by the earthquake. While I stood before it up came first
• 7:44:52
  a natty Japanese and then a dusty Italian laborer to drink at the fountain.
• 7:45:00
  Seeing me reading the inscription, they inquired whom and what it was about.
• 7:45:06
  I read them the well known sentences quote to be honest, to behind unquote,
• 7:45:11
  and so on, and did my best at a brief exposition of the
• 7:45:15
  general meaning. Thinking how the incident would have pleased the cosmopolitan r. L.
• 7:45:21
  S himself. I paid my visit also to the Mission of San Francisco
• 7:45:27
  de Assise, the Mission Dolores of brett Hart's sketch. It can never have
• 7:45:36
  been a very attractive building, but it has its interest as the church of
• 7:45:41
  the old town of Yebubuena, the germ of the present capital of the Western
• 7:45:45
  United States, the mission which brett Hart quote gave but a few years longer
• 7:45:53
  to sit by the highway and ask alms in the name of the blessed Saints
• 7:45:57
  unquote. Has survived his prophecy much longer already than he thought, and has
• 7:46:03
  been renovated to a better condition than the quote ragged senility unquote in which he
• 7:46:10
  saw it. But the churchyard is today much as he described it, and
• 7:46:15
  I take the willow tree growing beside the deep brown wall to be the same
• 7:46:21
  that he noted. The place is rank with vegetation, yet not untidy,
• 7:46:27
  and even with its modern surroundings, there's a gentle quietude about it that seemed
• 7:46:33
  to me more pleasing and humane than the spick and span elegance of shaven lawns
• 7:46:38
  and parterres of formal flowers. I climbed quote the rocky fastnesses of Telegraph Hill
• 7:46:48
  unquote, prowled among the incongruities of the Foreign Quarter and the chromatic heathendom of
• 7:46:55
  Chinatown, ferried over to Oakland and mingled with the cold legions on the campus
• 7:47:00
  of the University of Berkeley, and finally wandered for an afternoon in Golden Gate
• 7:47:07
  Park, where I saw bands of quail running fearlessly among the shrubbery, a
• 7:47:12
  charming sight from which I argue that, notwithstanding the general belief, San Franciscans
• 7:47:18
  cannot, after all, be wholly bad. It was two days before the
• 7:47:25
  end of September when at early morning I guided Anton down to the ferry.
• 7:47:30
  We were objects of much interest to passers by in cars and on sidewalks,
• 7:47:37
  no doubt of envy, also to not a few motormen took delight in springing
• 7:47:44
  a sudden salute of bells at us as they sped by, and newsboys varied
• 7:47:49
  their chant of fronicle call zamna with joyous yells of who see the cowboy?
• 7:48:00
  Anton took his surroundings more calmly than might have been expected, considering the contrast
• 7:48:04
  with his native Sage Plains, though he glanced anxiously up each side street for
• 7:48:11
  a way of escape, And when, after three miles of constant tension,
• 7:48:15
  he felt the tremor of the boat, he gazed at me with a startled
• 7:48:19
  expression that seemed to say, look here, this thing must be hollow.
• 7:48:25
  How do you know it won't fall to pieces? We disembarked at Soslido,
• 7:48:30
  on the southeast point of the Marine Peninsula, ready for the northern and last
• 7:48:37
  division of the trip. Soslito is a pretty little town built on hills that
• 7:48:42
  overlooked the bay. Here I got my delayed breakfast, and then leisurely took
• 7:48:48
  the road along the Placid Bay shore. Ahead rose the striking shape of Mount
• 7:48:56
  tamil Pias, with the village of Millvagh on its forest clouded foot. To
• 7:49:03
  the west rose low hills, at first brown and thinly timbered, but gradually
• 7:49:08
  taking a sprinkling of redwoods, amid which were dotted the houses of fortunate suburbanites.
• 7:49:18
  I put up at the village for the night, and next morning climbed
• 7:49:21
  the mountain to secure that renowned view with which all California tourists are familiar.
• 7:49:27
  Before I reached the top, I was ready to wish I had patronized the
• 7:49:32
  railway, which runs to the summit by a series of spectacular curves and loopings.
• 7:49:37
  The day was hot, the way shadeless. Of half the distance.
• 7:49:42
  The trail is over loose, sliding stones, and at an excessive slope.
• 7:49:48
  I had a dark suspicion that the directors of the railway might have had these
• 7:49:52
  tons of broken rock dumped there with the idea of discouraging pedestrians. After all.
• 7:50:00
  When I gained the top, I found many of the notable features of
• 7:50:03
  the landscape obscured by the mists of late summer, and over the region I
• 7:50:10
  most wished to see, namely the panorama of Drake's Bay and Point Rays.
• 7:50:15
  There hung a curtain of haze as thick as if all the accumulated dust of
• 7:50:21
  San Francisco had gathered there. Still, I was able to recognize the twin
• 7:50:26
  peaks of Mount Diablo thirty five miles to the east, and Mount Saint Helena
• 7:50:32
  fifteen miles further away in the north. Nearer by to the northeast lay the
• 7:50:37
  town of San Rafel, the site of the most northerly and last in order
• 7:50:44
  of foundation, but one of the Franciscan missions, of which, after the
• 7:50:49
  lapse of less than a century, no trace remains. On leaving Mill Valley,
• 7:50:56
  I turned westward toward the coast. It was a cloudy day with a
• 7:51:00
  promise of rain, and the road was delightfully rural. Within half an hour
• 7:51:07
  I noted deer tracks by the roadside, and everywhere the finger of autumn had
• 7:51:12
  touched the foliage, with the rich and tender beauty of decay. Two or
• 7:51:18
  three miles brought us to the Mere Woods, a splendid tract of woodland that
• 7:51:22
  was presented to the nation a few years ago by a prominent Californian to be
• 7:51:27
  held as a perpetual monument to the premiere of Western naturalist writers. The woods
• 7:51:36
  are the most beautiful of any preserved enclosure that I have ever yet seen,
• 7:51:41
  and the soft gray day gave them their finest aspect. The special glory of
• 7:51:47
  the place is in the redwoods. The great shafts rise in natural majesty from
• 7:51:52
  a handsomely varied undergrowth. And here and there stand individual groups like the side
• 7:52:00
  chapels of a cathedral with high rose windows opening to the sky, rich with
• 7:52:06
  tracery of twig and branch and plummy spray. A brown creek threads its way
• 7:52:14
  along, mingling its childlike narrative with fluting of bird, chattering of squirrel,
• 7:52:19
  and solemn monotone of forest wind. I rode for an hour or two about
• 7:52:26
  this choice spot, letting Anton take me where he would, since all alike
• 7:52:32
  was charming, then took the trail directly for the coast. It passed over
• 7:52:37
  a high, windy moorland varied with broken forest of oak, spruce, and
• 7:52:42
  redwood. The view seaward, though somewhat obscured by haze, showed the narrow
• 7:52:49
  tongue of Point Benita, and in faint outline the northern part of the San
• 7:52:55
  Francisco Peninsula, with a few vessels inward or outward bound through the Golden Gate.
• 7:53:03
  To the west lay the long silver ridge of the Bellinas Lagoon, and
• 7:53:07
  at the nearer end the scattering village of Willow Camp. Here I arrived at
• 7:53:14
  sundown and found quarters in a sort of nondescript inn, well known to the
• 7:53:18
  sportsmen of the Bay cities, who resort here in winter to make war upon
• 7:53:23
  the ducks of the lagoon. Except for the inn itself, the place is
• 7:53:29
  new and consists only of the country cottages of a few San Franciscans. Its
• 7:53:36
  situation and surroundings are very attractive. The curving beach opened southward upon a breezy
• 7:53:42
  tract of sea dotted with the shipping of the greatest port of the Pacific.
• 7:53:48
  Steep hills ride close behind it to two thousand feet of altitude, the edge
• 7:53:55
  of a broad belt of finely broken country. The hollows and canyons are dark
• 7:54:00
  with timber, mostly picturesque thickets of wind shorn laurel. Far away on the
• 7:54:07
  horizon lay the desolate islands of the Farallones, with their lonely lighthouse and year
• 7:54:15
  round clamour of gulls. I was awakened at night by the sound of heavy
• 7:54:21
  rain on the tent in which I slept. It was the first rain I
• 7:54:25
  had experienced, except for a slight sprinkle or two, since I left Los
• 7:54:30
  Angeles in the middle of May. Now it was the first of October,
• 7:54:34
  and I took the change as a hint that I had better complete my expedition
• 7:54:40
  quickly. The next day, which was Sunday, brought a few more showers
• 7:54:45
  and a magnificent entertainment of cloud forms that piled in slumbering thunder on the seaward
• 7:54:52
  horizon and dragged in Ossian like gloom along the heights that back the village.
• 7:55:00
  But the day closed in a sabbath serenity, and the next morning came clear
• 7:55:06
  with a cheerful wind from the north that forecast a continuance of fair weather.
• 7:55:12
  We took our way westward, following the northern margin of the lagoon. Choirs
• 7:55:18
  of blackbirds in the reeds sang their loudest in praise of the day, and
• 7:55:23
  I was fain to join the chorus. Anton, too, was in his
• 7:55:29
  best humor, and strode along with free gait, though not without an eye
• 7:55:34
  to the scraps of green that fringed the road, mixed among the thickets of
• 7:55:38
  wild rows, asters and sultry golden rod. A few pleasure boats were cruising
• 7:55:45
  about, and files of waterfowl maneuvered on the placid water. It was much
• 7:55:52
  too pretty a morning for one to be in a hurry, and noon had
• 7:55:56
  come before we reached the village of Billina, which lies at the western point
• 7:56:02
  of the lagoon. Thence the road continued westward, at a little distance from
• 7:56:07
  the sea, through a quiet, treeless land with an occasional dairy farm staring
• 7:56:14
  from the brown hillsides. For hours we kept this lonely road, meeting only
• 7:56:19
  one team during the whole afternoon. Towards evening we began to enter a rougher
• 7:56:26
  country with sharply broken hills bearing a scattering growth of spruce. At a solitary
• 7:56:33
  farm, I stopped to prospect for accommodation, but could find no one about
• 7:56:37
  the place. Anton's behavior at such times was always amusing. He would watch
• 7:56:45
  me eagerly as I went to the house, and when, as in this
• 7:56:49
  case, no door was opened in response to my knock, his anxiety became
• 7:56:55
  quite comic, and he would gaze at me with serious concern and an air
• 7:57:00
  of conferring with me as to what was to be done. Now, as
• 7:57:04
  it had been some miles since we passed the last ranch, I did not
• 7:57:08
  want to go further, lest it might be as far to the next.
• 7:57:14
  The necessity, as ever, was for fodder. For long before now,
• 7:57:18
  the pastureage had been exhausted to a point that it would mean starvation for an
• 7:57:22
  animal in work. After passing half an hour in dispute with a contentious sow
• 7:57:30
  that seemed to be in charge of the premises, a young woman galloped up
• 7:57:34
  on horseback, and a moment later a young man followed in a wagon.
• 7:57:41
  I explained my needs and was invited to put up my horse and to sleep
• 7:57:44
  in the house if I chose. They were brother and sister, Italian Swiss,
• 7:57:49
  and speaking little English, so that conversation was somewhat obstructed, but I
• 7:57:56
  was glad to share their simple, hearty supper, and leapt finally on my
• 7:58:00
  clean straw bed, in spite of three glum saints and a scowling cardinal who
• 7:58:07
  decorated the wall of the little whitewashed room. When I came to saddle up
• 7:58:12
  next morning, I found that while I slumbered, my enemy the sow,
• 7:58:18
  had overhauled my saddle bags, with the result that I was out of my
• 7:58:22
  single loaf of bread, two pounds of bacon, the half of a notebook,
• 7:58:29
  fortunately unused, and a few revolver cartridges. I wish there were some
• 7:58:34
  means of exploding these last in loco. The country here was very interesting in
• 7:58:41
  appearance. A group of small freshwater lakes lies near the shore, which rises
• 7:58:48
  to a picturesque moorland backed by irregular hills seaward. The farreloans showed like icebergs
• 7:58:56
  on the skyline, and the long arm of point rays marked the outline of
• 7:59:00
  Drake's Bay. Hours passed without a sign of human life. Once or twice
• 7:59:08
  a deer appeared in some glaze among the brush, and frequent coves of quail
• 7:59:14
  worred away as we put them up. This is a magnificent game country,
• 7:59:21
  and the fact has not been overlooked by the sporting clubs. Whose notices hailed
• 7:59:26
  me on all sides with threats of severe penalties and utmost rigors. While Anton
• 7:59:34
  was making the most of a halt by a spring with a few square yards
• 7:59:40
  of verdu, I was joined by two officers of the Coast Artillery Corps who
• 7:59:45
  were out from the military reservation at Point Benita for a three day test ride
• 7:59:51
  invented by an ex president of strenuous memory. It was a pleasant meeting and
• 7:59:57
  seemed a fitting place for America and Britons to fraternize. Looking out over the
• 8:00:03
  historic waters of Drake's Bay. It happened that we met on opposite circuits,
• 8:00:10
  but we made an appointment to dine together in the evening at Olema, our
• 8:00:14
  common objective for the day. Coming to a ranch house a few miles further
• 8:00:19
  on, I stopped for lunch. I always enjoy these chance meals at all
• 8:00:25
  sorts and conditions of places. The people here again were Italian Swiss, and
• 8:00:33
  if the dishes were a shade overdone with garlic, the good will was all
• 8:00:37
  that could be desired. Then, taking a southward road down Bear Canyon,
• 8:00:44
  I rode for a mile or two beside a pretty stream under a sort of
• 8:00:48
  tunnel formed by prodigious bays whose mossy branches joined overhead. The scent, though
• 8:00:56
  it is a pleasant one, was almost overpowering. Ferns banked the roadside solidly
• 8:01:03
  by their mile, and the light, filtered through triple screens of Verdieu,
• 8:01:08
  was like the soft, clear greenness of a mermaid's grotto. From where the
• 8:01:15
  canyon issued near the shore, I rode a few miles westward to the edge
• 8:01:21
  of Drake's Bay. It was a spot I had greatly wished to visit,
• 8:01:26
  and I threw myself down on the cliff to enjoy the occasion and the scene.
• 8:01:33
  So here lay the little Golden Hind three hundred and thirty two years ago,
• 8:01:38
  having come thus far on her memorable circumnavigation. And this is the shore
• 8:01:45
  where Brave Drake landed and called this country quote Nova Albion, and that for
• 8:01:52
  two causes, the one in respect of the great white banks and cliffs which
• 8:01:57
  lie toward the sea, and the other because it might have some affinity with
• 8:02:03
  our country in name, which sometime was so called. The scene was not
• 8:02:11
  specially striking in itself, and I thought it all the better that it was
• 8:02:15
  not, But just the old simplicity of cliff and sea. A rattling breeze
• 8:02:22
  blew from the northwest, and under it the long surges came swinging in and
• 8:02:27
  broke with dogged persistence. At the base of the hundred foot cliff. A
• 8:02:33
  few sea birds batted and screamed against the wind, and a couple of hawks
• 8:02:38
  answered them from landwood. It was then, too that, for the first
• 8:02:45
  time on the Pacific shores, a Protestant service after the order of the Church
• 8:02:49
  of England was held by Master Fletcher. When quote our general with his company
• 8:02:56
  went to prayer and to reading of the script at which exercised, the people
• 8:03:02
  of the country were attentive and seemed to be affected with it. Unquote,
• 8:03:08
  And what happened, I wondered to the monument the Englishman set up on that
• 8:03:12
  occasion quote, namely a plate nailed upon a fair great post, whereupon was
• 8:03:21
  engraved Her Majesty's name, the day and year of our arrival there, and
• 8:03:26
  the free giving up of the province and the people into Her Majesty's hands,
• 8:03:30
  together with Her Majesty's picture and arms, and a piece of sixpence of current
• 8:03:34
  English money under the plate, whereunder was also written the name of our general
• 8:03:41
  unquote. I suppose it may have long remained there, superstitiously, revered by
• 8:03:48
  the natives as a token of the prodigy that had happened in the days of
• 8:03:52
  their fathers. Then probably some band of Spaniards, who, spying the hated
• 8:03:59
  names of Drake and Elizabeth, tore or burned it down with cries of execration.
• 8:04:07
  I will mention that before I left the place, the spectacle might have
• 8:04:11
  been seen of a travel stained individual on horseback, declaiming bare headed the lines
• 8:04:17
  of mister Newbold's lyric of Drake's Drum. When I pointed out to him that
• 8:04:25
  the sight would be a humorous one to an observer, his reply was,
• 8:04:29
  I can't help that. I'm an Englishman, and it must always be hats
• 8:04:33
  off for Englishmen at the name of Drake. Chapter nineteen, Tamalas Bay,
• 8:04:40
  wind Dust, oysters and chickens, drab and blue, camp and coyote,
• 8:04:48
  concert, Russian River, fine scenic country, and a sunset Old fort Ross,
• 8:04:57
  an excerpt from history. A new pine camp among weird surroundings, a
• 8:05:07
  gale and a fine sea. Stuart's Point, a lumbering settlement, a place
• 8:05:14
  of gloom, Gualala. Seven miles northeast of Drake's Bay is the little town
• 8:05:22
  of Olema, where I arrived at dusk. At the hotel I found the
• 8:05:26
  two officers with whom I exchanged experiences of the day. Early next morning I
• 8:05:33
  took the road that follows the north side of Tamala's Bay, a long narrow
• 8:05:37
  inlet, bordered on the south by a timbered ridge, which I would willingly
• 8:05:41
  have explored, but that I could yet no certainty of a ferry at the
• 8:05:45
  lower end of the bay. Each person I questioned on the matter contradicted the
• 8:05:51
  opinion of the last. At point Ray Station, a settlement at the head
• 8:05:56
  of the bay, I met the narrow Gage Road railroad that runs for a
• 8:06:00
  short distance up the coast. At a few miles inland. A disagreeable wind
• 8:06:06
  blew from the northwest and raised quite a respectable sea on the estuary. Near
• 8:06:12
  the head, I had noticed an oyster fishery, where the railroad has a
• 8:06:17
  station with the serio comic name of Bivalve. I suppose that only the need
• 8:06:22
  of brevity hindered them from calling it Toothsome as well, two or three other
• 8:06:30
  small places lined the bayside and did something, though not much, to break
• 8:06:36
  the dreary brown monotony of the country that rolls away northward. One tiny settlement
• 8:06:42
  has, with unusual modesty, named itself Hamlet. The wind was cold,
• 8:06:51
  and neither of us was in a very cheerful humor. The very farmhouses seemed
• 8:06:56
  to shiver in company with us, and the pessimistic cant that nosed about the
• 8:07:00
  withered pastures. I suppose my voice betrayed my feelings to anton for such remarks
• 8:07:08
  as it's dogged, as does it boy or faint. Yet pursuing hey old
• 8:07:15
  chap failed to bring the usual, good humored response. It was a relief
• 8:07:22
  when at mid afternoon we reached the small town of Tamalas and exchanged the vague
• 8:07:26
  discomforts of the road for the concrete misery of a typical country hotel. The
• 8:07:34
  region we traveled next day was still the eternal brown, so brown as to
• 8:07:40
  appear actually rusty. It looked as if it must be dry. For ten
• 8:07:45
  miles below the surface, the road was deep in dust and still treeless.
• 8:07:52
  But the weather was better, and that repulsive wind had ceased to blow,
• 8:07:56
  or had gone to blow elsewhere. Apples shone from roadside orchards and refulgent pumpkins
• 8:08:04
  gleamed a redder for the first touch of frost. I bought a hatful of
• 8:08:11
  apples at a farm, took off Anton's bridle, and we lounged and munched
• 8:08:15
  along all morning, the best of comrades. At the village of valley Ford,
• 8:08:22
  we entered Sonoma County, and at the same time bad adieu once more
• 8:08:27
  to sight and sound of railways. For two hundred miles or so. Some
• 8:08:33
  distance up the coast, I saw a dark ridge of timber, which I
• 8:08:37
  guessed to mark the commencement of that great tree belt which lines the shores of
• 8:08:41
  northern California and merges in the colossal forests of Oregon, Washington, and British
• 8:08:48
  Columbia. The country I was now passing through is pre eminently the land of
• 8:08:56
  chickens. At each farm I saw rows of little structures like English bathing machines,
• 8:09:03
  and the hillsides about these chicken villages were all alive with the cackling and
• 8:09:08
  shouting citizens. The white varieties of poultry seemed to have all the preference,
• 8:09:15
  and they make an interesting show. A few miles to the east is the
• 8:09:19
  city of Pedaluma, the California metropolis of Fowls. A secuitous hilly road brought
• 8:09:29
  us round to the head of Bodega Bay, a lagoon rather than a bay,
• 8:09:33
  and all but land locked. And in another mile, after crossing a
• 8:09:38
  stream called Salmon Creek, we emerged at ocean edge. The coast was of
• 8:09:45
  low cliffs, with a fringe of seaweed covered rocks that were crowded with gulls
• 8:09:49
  and pelicans, these last in their usual state of profound dyspepsia. The colour
• 8:09:56
  scheme in general had become of late one vast simplicity of drab and blue.
• 8:10:04
  The last tinge of Verdiere had vanished months ago, except in cultivated spots or
• 8:10:11
  small damp areas and barren hills, and clear sky shared the universe between them,
• 8:10:17
  or admitted the sea into partnership without breaking the duality of color. It
• 8:10:22
  was becoming almost an obsession to me, and I looked forward with zest to
• 8:10:27
  the coming in of the forest element. It was getting late, and there
• 8:10:33
  was no prospect of finding a lodging. When a little creek with a faint
• 8:10:37
  trickle of water and a trifle of pasturage offered the chance of camping for the
• 8:10:42
  night. This was now an unusual boon, and I did not let it
• 8:10:48
  escape. I ate my supper by the light of a moon near the full
• 8:10:53
  and with a first rate coyote concert for entertainment. This was like old times
• 8:11:00
  and seemed almost touching, so long was it since I have heard one.
• 8:11:07
  The night was cold, with a very heavy dew, but I found a
• 8:11:11
  few stumps of buckeye and made a fair camp fire. Then blanketing and picketing
• 8:11:18
  anton, I turned in with my feet to the fire and peacefully smoked myself
• 8:11:23
  to sleep. We were early on the road next day, for I was
• 8:11:29
  eager to reach that timbered ridge that had been slowly coming nearer. I guessed
• 8:11:34
  that the Russian River must run on the nearer side, and an hour's travel
• 8:11:40
  brought us to a high bank overlooking this fine stream. It was much the
• 8:11:45
  largest river that I had met on the way up the coast, and seemed
• 8:11:48
  to mark the clear climatic difference between the central and southern regions of the state
• 8:11:53
  and the northern, which may be considered as beginning in this latitude. The
• 8:12:00
  scene had an additional interest from its connection with the brief adventure of the Russians
• 8:12:04
  on this part of the Pacific seaboard a century ago. At the mouth of
• 8:12:10
  this river, which they called the Slavianca, was a settlement of Theirs,
• 8:12:15
  subsidiary to the principal one at Fort Ross. I sat for some time,
• 8:12:21
  enjoying the fine views up and down the handsome winding stream, whose gleaming surface
• 8:12:26
  was broken every moment by the flash of leaping fish. A mile up stream,
• 8:12:34
  I found a platform ferry by which we crossed. This was another experience
• 8:12:40
  for Anton. He was particularly interested in a row boat that happened to come
• 8:12:45
  near us, thinking no doubt that a creature who moved its legs in that
• 8:12:48
  extraordinary horizontal fashion must be an unmitigated monster, whom it would be wise to
• 8:12:56
  keep an eye upon until we got ashore. A road along the north bank
• 8:13:02
  of the river brought us soon back to the shore. The usual sand by
• 8:13:07
  our block the mouth of the stream, and huge tree trunks lay strewed about
• 8:13:11
  the beach or were churning among the sharp rocks that guard the coast. At
• 8:13:18
  a microscopic settlement called Jenna, consisting of a small lumber concern and a post
• 8:13:23
  office, the road began to climb along ascent, dairy ranches appeared at long
• 8:13:30
  intervals, and at one of these where I got into conversation with the Italian
• 8:13:34
  proprietor, I was invited to share in the midday macaroni. When it appeared
• 8:13:41
  that I had stayed with relatives of theirs down the coast, a flask of
• 8:13:45
  their best chiante was produced in my honor. Fine vistas opened to north and
• 8:13:52
  south as we climbed. The coast here is quite similar to that of the
• 8:13:56
  Santa Lucilla region. There are the same broad slopes of mountain marked with isolated
• 8:14:03
  blocks of timber, the same broken line of bay and cape fringed everywhere with
• 8:14:10
  islets, the same almost oppressive scents of the ocean, where the scene or
• 8:14:15
  unseen, stretching ever in vast uniformity away to the west. Here, however,
• 8:14:22
  was less of fog. For days together, the seas lay under a
• 8:14:27
  sky of clearest blue, and evening after evening, the setting sun drew a
• 8:14:33
  sword of blazing brass across the infinite plain of water. We held long and
• 8:14:41
  tiring climb before we came at length to the timber. Then we stopped and
• 8:14:45
  rested long and deeply. The view was almost impossibly perfect. All about were
• 8:14:52
  grouped redwoods, oaks, bays, madronios, and spruces of magnificent growth.
• 8:15:00
  Between their red and green and purple stems. There stretched east and north a
• 8:15:06
  wide extent of hilly country, golden with sun bleached grass, or dark with
• 8:15:12
  purple areas of forest. To the west, I caught glimpses of dazzling sea,
• 8:15:18
  and southward I looked down upon the coast I had traveled during that and
• 8:15:22
  the previous day, brilliant with blue of deep and green of shoal water,
• 8:15:30
  off flashing to sudden blaze of surf on headland, cape and bay. Before
• 8:15:37
  I was ready to move on, the sun had said, in an effulgence
• 8:15:40
  of noble color, rosying the golden hills, reddening the great shafts of the
• 8:15:45
  trees, and for a few wonderful moments, deepening the plain of the sea
• 8:15:52
  to an imperial splendor of purple. High over all, masses of flaming crimson
• 8:16:00
  like banners of archangels floated across the western sky. In the gathering dusk,
• 8:16:07
  I rode on through the forest and came at dark to a comfortable wayside inn
• 8:16:12
  at a hamlet called Sea view. Here. I stayed the night, and
• 8:16:18
  the next morning took the cross road down to the coast. It was another
• 8:16:23
  glorious morning of Indian summer. The ocean lay far below under a cool stratum
• 8:16:30
  of fog, while around us shone a powerful sun that called out the forest
• 8:16:36
  scents in unusual variety. Golden showers of seed from spruces drifted down the shafts
• 8:16:44
  of sunlight. Squirrels, jays, and quail were abroad on pleasure or business,
• 8:16:49
  and the world looked as young as if it had been created. Overnight,
• 8:16:56
  three miles at a steep descent brought us to the coast Old Fort Ross.
• 8:17:03
  This was the principal settlement made by the Russians on the California seaboard.
• 8:17:07
  That brief but interesting passage of history began with the building here in eighteen hundred
• 8:17:14
  and twelve of a fortified trading post by the Russian American Fur Company. It
• 8:17:21
  seems plain from the strength of the fort and its furnishing with something like forty
• 8:17:26
  cannon, that there was a purpose of holding the region permanently for Russia against
• 8:17:30
  the nominal sovereignty of Spain, whose rule to the north of San Francisco had
• 8:17:36
  not at that time become effective by actual settlement. The history of Fort Ross
• 8:17:41
  was marked by constant protests from first the Spanish and then the Mexican government,
• 8:17:48
  who were naturally suspicious of the intentions of the Russians. The friction continued long
• 8:17:55
  after the Russian government, by the Treaty of eighteen twenty four, had beenn
• 8:18:00
  itself against any acquisition of territory on this coast south of the memorable fifty four
• 8:18:04
  forty, and at last, in eighteen forty one, the adventurers were glad
• 8:18:10
  to find in Captain Sutter a purchaser for their troublesome claims, and to retire
• 8:18:15
  to their northern possessions in Alaska. Some reminders of the Russian incident are to
• 8:18:22
  be seen. A part of the heavy twelve foot stockade is still standing,
• 8:18:29
  and the old church was in fair condition until the great earthquake of nineteen oh
• 8:18:33
  six shook it down. I found the roof, with its quaint cupola and
• 8:18:38
  belfry intact, though fallen and resting on the ground. The great hewn joists
• 8:18:45
  and rafters are sound, and the hand wrought nails that spike them together are
• 8:18:51
  still doing duty. The commandant's house, which now serves as a hotel for
• 8:18:57
  chance visitors, with a minutive post office, a small wharf, and half
• 8:19:03
  a dozen miscellaneous dwellings make up the whole of the place. The population consists
• 8:19:08
  of some two or three dozen people, about one third of as many as
• 8:19:14
  vacated it nearly seventy years ago when the Russians departed. A pious fort Rossian
• 8:19:22
  whose boyhood had been spent here, had undertaken to try to repair the old
• 8:19:26
  church, and had called upon the people of the locality to assemble on the
• 8:19:30
  day that I was there for the purpose of starting the work. The appeal
• 8:19:36
  seemed to be in vain, for only two or three had arrived before I
• 8:19:40
  had left, and those had come I fear mainly with an eye to the
• 8:19:44
  dance which had been promised to wind up the event in the evening. About
• 8:19:49
  noon, I took to the road, which now again closely followed the coast.
• 8:19:56
  Picturesque pines of the Mirakata species appeared, standing gaunt and wind blown on
• 8:20:00
  the cliffs, or kneeling in odd postures on rocky coins and headlands. At
• 8:20:08
  timber Cove. Quantities of railway ties and tan bark were piled on the bluff
• 8:20:14
  awaiting shipment, and in another pretty little bay a steam schooner was loading with
• 8:20:21
  lumber for the south. Without warning, a cold fog came driving in,
• 8:20:26
  bringing a drop of thirty degrees of temperature. In a few moments, the
• 8:20:32
  sea rose under a strong northwest wind, and through rifts of the fog I
• 8:20:37
  could dimly see a turmoil of surf arising beyond the black forms of rock and
• 8:20:44
  pine. The road was over a bracken covered moorland with a sprinkling of small
• 8:20:51
  oaks and madonios, and broken by frequent canyons dark with twisted and touseled redwoods.
• 8:21:00
  This tree has a way of throwing out when stunted, a thatch of
• 8:21:03
  foliage so close and matted as to be quite impervious to light. The effect
• 8:21:10
  of a company of these freakish individuals under conditions of storm or half light is
• 8:21:15
  weird. In the extreme. Towards evening, we entered a dense growth of
• 8:21:22
  pines, and finding water and a little pasturage, I determined to camp.
• 8:21:29
  The fog was raw and the wind chilly, but I sat up my little
• 8:21:33
  shelter tent and made a rousing fire and spent a di de lightful evening with
• 8:21:38
  a symphony of wind and water that was really quite Wagnerian. The effect was
• 8:21:45
  heightened by the fantastic appearance of the pines, which showed in blackish silhouettes under
• 8:21:51
  a sky of murky gray, for the moon was full, though obscured.
• 8:21:56
  Their uncanny shapes, together with the boom of the surf, the roar of
• 8:22:00
  wind, the croaking of frogs, and the dismal predictions of the owls,
• 8:22:06
  combined to form a sort of Valpugis night that made a background for the wildest
• 8:22:11
  of dreams. When at last I turned in and got to sleep, I
• 8:22:18
  broke camp early, meaning to make up to Anton for his rather meager forage
• 8:22:22
  by a good feed at Stuart's Point, a few miles further on. The
• 8:22:27
  morning was foggy, but the wind had changed the south and smelled decidedly like
• 8:22:33
  rain. It was not long before we were enveloped in a thick drizzle.
• 8:22:38
  The road led along the cliff, and as the sea rose with the increasing
• 8:22:42
  wind, the scene became constantly more fascinating, and the downpour of rain which
• 8:22:48
  soon developed could not damp my admiration. Though my poor Anton showed plainly that
• 8:22:55
  he found it depressing. The surges came swinging in with sullen magnificence of gray,
• 8:23:03
  to burst like bombs against the cliffs, rush wildly up to their faces,
• 8:23:08
  and fall back in torrents of hail like spray. The waves came from
• 8:23:15
  the northwest, and the wind, now blowing from the opposite quarter, stripped
• 8:23:19
  off the crest at every succeeding roller in a wavering veil of spume. Half
• 8:23:26
  a mile off shore, two little steamers were beating doggedly southward, their boughs
• 8:23:32
  plunging every moment into a smother of white water. In spite of the heavy
• 8:23:37
  rain, I was fain to halt from time to time and rejoice in the
• 8:23:41
  uproar, while my companion, with no such inward glows, stood dripping,
• 8:23:47
  drooping, and disgusted. On my right. Timbered mountains showed momentarily through the
• 8:23:55
  rack and were hardly less attractive than the tumult of the sea. How much
• 8:24:00
  more interesting this world becomes when for a time it throws off the placidity of
• 8:24:07
  age and returns to the passion and stress of its younger nature. Few of
• 8:24:14
  us see enough of these episodes. I am sure, though we may think
• 8:24:17
  we do. Whenever I meet one, I find myself hoping that it may
• 8:24:22
  yet be my lot to pass a year or two in some region of almost
• 8:24:26
  perpetual storm, where sunshine will be a phenomenon, the color will be reduced
• 8:24:32
  to the all satisfying range of the grays, and sound limited to the solemn
• 8:24:37
  fugue of wind and sweeping rain. An unpleasant result of the present rain,
• 8:24:44
  however, was that it soon made the road almost impassable. The soil happened
• 8:24:49
  to be the stiffest kind of clay, which bawled upon Anton's feet and made
• 8:24:56
  the traveling slow, difficult and annoying. I dismounted and led him mile after
• 8:25:03
  mile, while the rain poured down without cessation and soaked man, beast,
• 8:25:08
  blankets, saddle bags and all. It was nearly noon when we reached Stewart's
• 8:25:15
  Point, where there was a fair sized settlement with store, inn and cable
• 8:25:21
  landing. I saw my horse dry and happy with his hay, then spent
• 8:25:26
  an hour revolving and steaming before the bar room fire. The industry of this
• 8:25:33
  place, as of all the country hereabout, is lumbering. As it was
• 8:25:37
  Sunday, no work was going on, and the rain had sent the entire
• 8:25:41
  population to the saloon, where three poker games were in progress. Money passed
• 8:25:48
  freely, and by no means all I saw was lower silver. They were
• 8:25:56
  a cosmopolitan lot. I could distinguish Mexicans, Indians, Irishmen, Germans,
• 8:26:02
  and Swedes besides Americans. The thirst was general and unremitting, and the language
• 8:26:10
  frightful even for lumberjacks. I suppose that most of these poor fellows saw no
• 8:26:15
  more harm in the hideous oaths they wrapped out every moment than we see in
• 8:26:21
  reading the newspaper. Rheumatic twinges sent me early to bed, and I awoke
• 8:26:27
  to find a clear sun shining and an Indian squaw looking seriously in at my
• 8:26:33
  window. I left early, but not before a mild game of poker was
• 8:26:37
  under way. The wind was still rough, and the sea made a fine
• 8:26:44
  spectacle, though now a glory of blue had succeeded to the greater splendor of
• 8:26:48
  gray. There were lovely little bays with bright seas thundering in vistas of headland,
• 8:26:56
  beyond headland, where the white sea wolves were tearing incessantly at the land,
• 8:27:03
  and everywhere the cliffs were ranked with green and singing pines. I passed
• 8:27:10
  one or two cottages gay with cosmos and chrysanthemums, These latter not the gorgeous
• 8:27:15
  triumphs of the up to date forest, but the old simple heart, entangling
• 8:27:22
  clusters of yellow, magenta and golden brown. Twelve miles and I came to
• 8:27:29
  a handsome stream, deep, slow, wide and green, the Gualala River.
• 8:27:37
  The little town of the same name on the north bank was depressed and
• 8:27:41
  depressing, most of its buildings closed and decaying. Five years ago the lumber
• 8:27:48
  mill, which was the bee all and end all of the place, was
• 8:27:52
  burned down, and Gualala threw up its hands and sank into despair. The
• 8:28:00
  barber postmaster shoemaker with whom I had business in his official capacity, observed as
• 8:28:06
  he lathered a gloomy patron that this was the last time he had had enough
• 8:28:12
  of this derned place, and was going to light out for some liva burg.
• 8:28:18
  When I inquired where he meant to go, he paused a moment with
• 8:28:22
  suspended razor to consider, then answered, with sartonic emphasis, that he guessed
• 8:28:30
  he would go to Greenland. Chapter twenty. Big Bert Odd names the Lowland
• 8:28:38
  Fir wildflowers, Point Arena, the lot of lumber Towns, the Alder Creek
• 8:28:47
  Dispute, greenwood, gray weather, autumn colours, Navarro, a deserted village,
• 8:28:56
  A little confidence concerning Albion, little river, Blessings on that little girl.
• 8:29:03
  Mendocino City, Fort Bragg, rain again, Scotch hospitality, A fine
• 8:29:11
  surf Sunday at Hardy Creek, in passing Gualala, I had left Sonoma for
• 8:29:19
  Mendocino County. At first I thought I would fish this tempting looking river and
• 8:29:26
  stay the night in the town. But the gloom of the place was rather
• 8:29:30
  terrifying, and I went on to see what the next stopping place might offer.
• 8:29:36
  A mile or two brought me to it the usual in saloon combination,
• 8:29:41
  kept by a massive Italian, from whom the place had received the name Big
• 8:29:47
  Bert. He was a hearty fellow, his wife comely and smiling, and
• 8:29:53
  the house clean and comfortable. I enjoyed my eggs and macaroni with these good
• 8:29:59
  people, and passed a pleasant evening by their fireside, under the eyes of
• 8:30:04
  the late King Humbert and his consort, whose portraits looked down from the wall.
• 8:30:11
  After we had all gone to bed. A party of musical Italianos arrived
• 8:30:15
  with accordions and hammered for admission. It was almost daylight before the festivities ended
• 8:30:22
  with O Italia and a final catastrophe of glassware. The same picturesque coast continued
• 8:30:33
  next day. Castellated islets and peninsulas alternated every mile, with romantic little bays
• 8:30:41
  Here and there along the cliff, tan bark and railway tires were piled.
• 8:30:47
  The map of the coast is thickly marked with names, but most of them
• 8:30:52
  relate to lumbering settlements that have vanished with the marketable timber of the immediate locality.
• 8:31:00
  Some of these tiny places bore odd names. For instance, during the
• 8:31:03
  morning, I passed rough and Ready and hard Scratch. Others a less striking
• 8:31:11
  button more attractive were Anchor Bay, Signal, Port, fish Rock, and
• 8:31:17
  Schooner Gulch. It was election day, and among the amendments to the state
• 8:31:22
  constitution to be voted on was one to introduce woman suffrage. From several electioneering
• 8:31:30
  buggies driven by capable looking women that passed me, I guessed that Mendocino County,
• 8:31:37
  as far as it is out of the general ruck of politics, was
• 8:31:41
  not to be left out of account in the Great Sex Revolution. In the
• 8:31:47
  canyons hereabout I began to meet a new coniferous tree, the lowland fur Arby's
• 8:31:53
  grandis. It resembled so much the white fur of the mountain Recus regions of
• 8:32:00
  the state, that I mistook it at first for that tree. Like the
• 8:32:05
  other members of the family, it suffers much distortion from the winds on these
• 8:32:08
  exposed positions, and shows little of that aristocratic trimness which is such a feature
• 8:32:16
  of the fur family in general. In token of the higher latitude and moister
• 8:32:22
  climate that I was entering, I had lately noticed wild violets growing here and
• 8:32:28
  there by the roadside. Whether belated from last season or in advance of the
• 8:32:32
  next, I could not tell. Today I met also a number of our
• 8:32:38
  handsome poppies, a shalotzia, and of another very beautiful flower new to me,
• 8:32:45
  much like the rain orchis of our mountains. Today's march was an easy
• 8:32:51
  one of only fifteen miles. About noon I rode into the town of Point
• 8:32:55
  Arena and put up at the only hotel that remains over and for business.
• 8:33:00
  Out of some half a dozen whose signs I met as I passed up the
• 8:33:04
  street, the place seems to be threatened with the fate of Gualala. A
• 8:33:09
  townsman of forty years standing, reported that it now had fewer people than when
• 8:33:15
  he had come there. But it is the common lot of lumbering settlements.
• 8:33:20
  They are suicides by profession. Pointina is still the headquarters of a considerable lumber
• 8:33:27
  company, but probably they in turn are dependent upon the caprices of greater financial
• 8:33:34
  interests, and I would not give much for the town's place on the map.
• 8:33:37
  Twenty years Hence, the country here becomes rather more open, with a
• 8:33:44
  wider strip of level land running back from the shore from some distance. Next
• 8:33:50
  day I passed through a region of farms that occupy the low, broad valley
• 8:33:54
  of the Guscia River, but before long the high timbered ridge which again drew
• 8:34:00
  to the coast. A few miles to the northwest of the town is the
• 8:34:06
  headland of Point Arena. In the distance I could see the tall white shafts
• 8:34:10
  of the lighthouse, recently built to replace the former one destroyed by the earthquake
• 8:34:15
  in nineteen o six. A place with the ambitious name of Manchester proved to
• 8:34:23
  consist of six cottages a store and a post office, and a picturesque weather
• 8:34:29
  beaten church on a hill. Here I met one of the principal actors in
• 8:34:35
  what promised at the time to become a notorious affair. I had read in
• 8:34:39
  newspapers months before of a feud which had arisen between the settlers on Alder Creek,
• 8:34:46
  the next creek to the Northwood, and a lumber company operating in the
• 8:34:51
  region. This man was one of the settlers. I think he at first
• 8:34:57
  suspected from my semi military equipment that I might have some relation to the dispute.
• 8:35:02
  At least he accosted me when we met on the road, and finding
• 8:35:07
  that I was only an interested member of the public, he gave, at
• 8:35:09
  my request his own version of the case. It was to this effect.
• 8:35:15
  In the year eighteen ninety one a number of squatters came into the Alder Creek
• 8:35:21
  country. The land at that time had not been surveyed and so was not
• 8:35:25
  technically open to settlement. Two years later the tract was declared open and the
• 8:35:32
  man in a body went down to San Francisco to file on their respective claims
• 8:35:37
  according to the law. They were met with the statement that their claims could
• 8:35:42
  not be entered, as the land in point was covered by a prior claim.
• 8:35:46
  The squatters, suspicious rightly or wrongly, of the good faith of the
• 8:35:51
  statement, and thinking for such things have happened, that the official might be
• 8:35:57
  simply the mouthpiece of some lumber interests whose eyes were on this fine tract of
• 8:36:01
  timber, brought suit to clear up the point. That suit, after the
• 8:36:07
  lapse of eighteen years, had not been decided. The men meanwhile lived quietly
• 8:36:14
  on their claims until latterly the lumber company in question had raised a definite claim
• 8:36:20
  to the land and had undertaken to eject the settlers by force. The latter
• 8:36:25
  held their ground. The company thereon hired a score or so of gun fighters
• 8:36:31
  and brought them onto the disputed territory, and for six weeks at the time
• 8:36:37
  of our conversation, it had been touch and go day by day, with
• 8:36:40
  prospects of bloodshed on a considerable scale at any moment. Two weeks before,
• 8:36:49
  my informant acting for the squatters, had petitioned the authorities at Washington that a
• 8:36:53
  force of deputy marshals be sent to keep the peace, pending a legal settlement
• 8:36:59
  of the quarry, which seemed to me a reasonable request. When I met
• 8:37:04
  him, he was on his way to point Arena in hope of hearing that
• 8:37:07
  something was to be done. These were the facts as he gave them.
• 8:37:13
  I do not, of course, vouch for them, but what a request
• 8:37:15
  to make. Here were thirty men or thereabouts at Gunn's Point for six weeks,
• 8:37:23
  the case notorious, and yet no step had been taken by any authority,
• 8:37:29
  state or federal to prevent bloodshed. It does not sound a creditable episode
• 8:37:35
  to occur in the United States in the year nineteen hundred and eleven. Alder
• 8:37:40
  Creek itself, where I forded it close to the mouth, looked peaceful enough,
• 8:37:45
  with two fly fishes and an automobile that had gone dead in midstream.
• 8:37:52
  The four passengers, up to their knees in water, were working literally like
• 8:37:57
  beavers to push the heavy machine up the bank. I saw no look of
• 8:38:02
  sympathy for them in Anton's expressive eye. Streams are plentiful all along this timbered
• 8:38:09
  coast. At almost every mile we crossed some creek or gulch or river,
• 8:38:15
  and the views up these canyons were always delightful. Narrow gage railways have been
• 8:38:22
  built a few miles up, many of them to bring the lumber down to
• 8:38:25
  the coast at one of the numerous landings. Both railways and landings, in
• 8:38:31
  many cases are disused and only serve to illustrate the folly of the hasty exploitation
• 8:38:38
  which the forests of the country in general have suffered. At Elk River,
• 8:38:45
  a mere and railway were in full operation, and the wide stream was blocked
• 8:38:50
  with logs that were waiting their turn under the screaming sows. Two miles further
• 8:38:57
  on we entered the little town of Greenwood, and, finding an inn conducted
• 8:39:01
  like most of the business in the place, by the lumber company of the
• 8:39:05
  locality, we put up for the night. The house was rather dismal,
• 8:39:10
  but things were enlivened by the pretty Swedish girl who waited at table. She
• 8:39:16
  spoke English with difficulty, and evidently was new to her work, but she
• 8:39:22
  took such innocent enjoyment in her own awkwardness that the whole table was put into
• 8:39:27
  the best of humor. The next morning was a specially delightful one, genial
• 8:39:34
  yet pensive, even soulful, one of those days when, as someone has
• 8:39:39
  said, our very sensations turned to reverie. The tree armies that crowded the
• 8:39:47
  eastern ridge stood in sooty blackness against the sky of thoughtful gray, yellowed with
• 8:39:54
  stray shafts from the hidden sun. A gently breathing sea broke in quiet thunder
• 8:40:01
  at the base of the cliff, or licked and coiled around the dark rocks
• 8:40:06
  and islets with a sort of playful but ponderous inertia. Once or twice a
• 8:40:13
  vessel far out showed like a phantom through the haze. I find, somehow,
• 8:40:20
  like thorow, that my spirits infallibly rise in proportion to the outward dreariness
• 8:40:28
  and dark as the day was, my joy rose another point, whenever we
• 8:40:32
  passed into the denser shade of the canyons, I suppose I was borne under
• 8:40:37
  some gloomy aspect of planets. At least, if not, I must totally
• 8:40:44
  and forever disbelieve in astrology. Now and then we passed the little farm,
• 8:40:51
  and men at work in the fields would stop to wonder at the sight of
• 8:40:53
  a solitary traveler riding along and scribbling as he went, or raining out to
• 8:41:00
  gaze raptly about him, or up into the sky. There seemed a particular
• 8:41:06
  beauty in the sallow, faded herbage, and the wild cry of the flicker,
• 8:41:12
  always a favorite sound, came today with an added thrill. It was
• 8:41:19
  by now full autumn, and the vegetation had taken on those warm and thoughtful
• 8:41:24
  hues that make the season so pleasing. How gracious are these deep and sensitive
• 8:41:32
  tones. The gravity of umber, the dignity of sienna, the mild magnificence
• 8:41:38
  of madder, the serenity of gray. One may call spring the lyric,
• 8:41:46
  summer the epic, and winter the dirge of the color year. Autumn is
• 8:41:53
  the elergy, the quiet reconsideration, the rich maturity of variance. After passing
• 8:42:02
  a tiny settlement bearing the Dickensian name of Cuffee's Cove, a few miles brought
• 8:42:09
  me to the Navarro River and a deserted village of gray and weathered houses.
• 8:42:15
  I call it deserted, for I saw no one about the place, nor
• 8:42:19
  smoke rising from any chimney in token of human life and comfort, or the
• 8:42:23
  baking of bread, though a few skirmishing pigs and chickens seemed to imply at
• 8:42:29
  least one inhabitant. The situation was beautiful, a deep valley with a wide
• 8:42:37
  winding river, and the eucalyptus trees and ross saner palms in the gardens showed
• 8:42:43
  the owner's expectation of remaining, but lumber and lumber companies had ruled otherwise.
• 8:42:51
  Most of the buildings were out of plum. The church leaned at an alarming
• 8:42:54
  angle, and a loon swimming leisurely in the middle of the street seemed to
• 8:43:00
  certify the solitude of the place. Concerning the next place I came to,
• 8:43:07
  I invite the reader to share a little confidence. My map gave its name
• 8:43:12
  as Albion, and Englishman as I am, I felt a particular interest in
• 8:43:16
  the place that bore that name. So it was with something like horror that
• 8:43:22
  I noted the two or three rickety shacks, the wreck of a wharf,
• 8:43:27
  the former store now a dirty saloon, with two profane old men loafing on
• 8:43:31
  the porch, and the hangdog barkeeper playing cards with a couple of boys within.
• 8:43:37
  Could this be a parable of my native land? It was quite a
• 8:43:43
  shock, and I went on, not a little depressed. A mile farther,
• 8:43:49
  and I turned a corner. Behold a fine little town, all buzzing
• 8:43:53
  and humming with life stream whizzing souls, shrieking, locomotive bustling about with cars
• 8:44:00
  of lumber trim schooner at wharf, men wiping perspiring brows, and everything thriving.
• 8:44:09
  This was the place, after all. The other was white spur when
• 8:44:15
  it was anything. And down at the river's mouth was a little purple bay,
• 8:44:20
  all a glitter with wind and surf. It was a microcosm of the
• 8:44:25
  real Albion. And I rejoiced at the sight, as I hope, friendly
• 8:44:30
  American reader, you would have done, if the circumstance had happened that you,
• 8:44:34
  on your travels meeting some foreign Columbia or Washington. The peace of coast
• 8:44:40
  between Albion and the next place, Little River, seemed to me the finest
• 8:44:45
  I had seen. Such headlands, black and wooded, such purple seas,
• 8:44:52
  such vivid blaze of spray, such fiords and inlets. A painter would be
• 8:44:59
  ravished with it. Little River itself is a pretty straggling village of high gabled
• 8:45:05
  houses with quaint dormers and windows, and red roses clambering all about. Apple
• 8:45:12
  trees were gleaming with ruddy fruit, and the pines about the schoolhouse were full
• 8:45:16
  of chattering children out for recess. One little girl of eleven or twelve,
• 8:45:22
  not specially pretty, but childlike, and therefore lovely smiled at me as I
• 8:45:28
  passed, and wished me good morning. Heaven blessed that little girl. Such
• 8:45:35
  a thing is better than a thousand dollars to a bachelor. Then Mendocino City
• 8:45:40
  came into view, making a brave show, with its red and white houses,
• 8:45:45
  schools, and churches ranged in a long promontory above a bay at the
• 8:45:50
  mouth of Big River. Here I stopped for an hour to give Anton a
• 8:45:54
  rest and a feed at the stable. He had traveled excellently today, cantering
• 8:46:01
  gaily along without so much as a suggestion from me. His respected predecessor,
• 8:46:07
  Chino, never once offered to do such a thing of his own free will,
• 8:46:10
  and it was not always easy to persuade him to it. As I
• 8:46:15
  walked about the town, I noticed bills posted with the announcement the Albion Lumberjacks
• 8:46:21
  will give a marked ball on Wednesday evening, prizes for best costumes. Ladies
• 8:46:25
  and gentlemen come one, come a thousand, and have a bully good time
• 8:46:31
  supper. At twelve fifteen, I hoped that the thousand would come and the
• 8:46:37
  good time be bullier than their best expectations. Some four miles further on,
• 8:46:45
  I passed a short distance east of Point Cabrio, with its small lighthouse.
• 8:46:52
  Another mile brought me to Caspar River, which I found blocked with great logs
• 8:46:57
  and agile lumbermen, with Peev extracting them one by one. The river above
• 8:47:04
  the little town looked very inviting, flowing slowly and wide between high walls of
• 8:47:09
  timber. Again, I lamented that the difficulty of fodder for my horse made
• 8:47:15
  it impossible for me to explore it or even to camp for the night.
• 8:47:22
  Darkness was falling as we passed through the village of Neio, lying pretty on
• 8:47:27
  a neck of land between Hare and Neio creeks. Anton was tired, and
• 8:47:34
  I would willingly have stopped if there had been any inn at the place.
• 8:47:38
  As it was, I had to urge him on a few miles farther,
• 8:47:42
  and it was after nightfall that we came wearily into the thriving little town of
• 8:47:47
  Fort Bragg, the advertisements of whose enterprising merchants had appeared on the roadside fences
• 8:47:53
  for the last fifty miles. It was a dull morning with a southerly wind
• 8:48:00
  that threatened rain. When I left Fort Bragg next day, the sea was
• 8:48:05
  heavy and the coast was obscured at a short distance by a haze of flying
• 8:48:09
  spray. Before I reached the hamlet of Coleone, a few miles up,
• 8:48:15
  it was raining, with no inn in prospect for fifteen miles unless I turned
• 8:48:22
  back to Fort Bragg. This I could not bring myself to do, so
• 8:48:28
  I pushed on in hope of some chance shelter. The coast north of Fort
• 8:48:32
  Bragg runs for several miles in dunes of sand. In places these are fully
• 8:48:38
  fifty feet high, and I was told that they are encroaching on the land
• 8:48:43
  at the rate of several rods a year. Coming to a ranch lying in
• 8:48:49
  the rear of these sand hills, and the rain giving no sign of ceasing,
• 8:48:53
  I determined to inquire the prospects for accommodation. The good Scotch people received
• 8:49:00
  leave me as though I had been an expected friend, and as the rain
• 8:49:04
  continued, I spent both day and night with them. It was rare and
• 8:49:08
  pleasant to hear grace before meat said by the father, and the good fair
• 8:49:14
  seemed all the better for the observance. The morning came fair, and I
• 8:49:20
  took the road with friendly farewells from the kind Scots. A warm sun drew
• 8:49:27
  a haze from the wet ground, and their finest scents from the grateful vegetation.
• 8:49:34
  For some distance the sea was hidden by hills of sand, but the
• 8:49:37
  roll of heavy surf reverberated from a mile away. At ten mile River,
• 8:49:45
  a rocky coast again began the road along the cliff edge, affording a fine
• 8:49:51
  spectacle of green comas, black rocks, and creamier smother of spray. Far
• 8:49:58
  to the north, I caught glimpses of the Humboldt Coast as it ran out
• 8:50:02
  westward hour after hour. The hills on my right rose crested continuously with seered
• 8:50:10
  conifers, while to the left sounded ever the rush and mutter of the surge.
• 8:50:19
  The surf here was particularly fine, with six or seven long white lines
• 8:50:24
  marching always to the attack. Wherever a rock was encountered. The effect was
• 8:50:30
  as though in a battle a man here and there threw up his hands and
• 8:50:35
  fell, while his comrades closed up and pushed on unchecked. Anton's steady pace
• 8:50:44
  and the monotonous roar of water drew me into a kind of dream in which
• 8:50:49
  I seemed to see the ships of the great explorers of this coast as they
• 8:50:53
  passed in the offing. I imagined captains and men gazing curiously at the l
• 8:51:00
  only coast, speculating upon the inhabitants, noting eagerly every curve of bay and
• 8:51:07
  heights of forbidding cliff, scanning rock and surf, and wondering at the unbroken
• 8:51:13
  forest that ran for league on league along the mountain horizon. The fascination of
• 8:51:20
  the explorer's life is an easy thing to understand. About noon I passed the
• 8:51:27
  little settlement of Westport. Huge piles of planks and ties were stacked ready for
• 8:51:34
  shipping, and a coasting steamer lay a mile off shore, waiting her chance
• 8:51:38
  to run in for loading. At the mouth of almost every creek along this
• 8:51:44
  coast there is some tiny lumber settlement, And here and there beside the road
• 8:51:49
  were piles of ties that had been brought down the rough tracks that I saw
• 8:51:53
  leading off into the forest. A long steep grade at length turned inland from
• 8:52:01
  the summit. I looked down through a screen of dwarfed firs and redwoods,
• 8:52:07
  upon the busy little town of Hardy Creek. It was only mid afternoon,
• 8:52:12
  but the situation and the neat hotel looked so attractive that I determined to put
• 8:52:16
  up for the night and the following day, which would be Sunday. The
• 8:52:22
  place consists of a score or two of cottages scattered along the bottom of a
• 8:52:28
  deep canyon up which runs a little railway. The canyon's mouth, where a
• 8:52:35
  small stream flows out, was filled with a triangle of bluest sea. I
• 8:52:42
  climbed up the hillside at evening and bathed in a fiery glow of sunset that
• 8:52:46
  lighted up the stately trees, as if by a conflagration. Here I passed
• 8:52:53
  a quiet Sunday in the ever satisfying companionship of trees. It was the fifteenth
• 8:53:00
  of October and the day on which the quail shooting season opens. Consequently,
• 8:53:07
  the male population of the place had betaken themselves early to the hills. Only
• 8:53:14
  one or two old fellows haunted the verandah of the hotel and poisoned the sweetness
• 8:53:19
  of the day with a contest of fancy profanity. In the evening, I
• 8:53:25
  walked down to the mouth of the canyon and came upon the three saloons which
• 8:53:30
  compete for the wages of the lumberjacks of Hardy Creek. Squads of their patrons
• 8:53:36
  were lurching and howling from door to door. I think I am no fanatic,
• 8:53:43
  yet I believe I could look on quite cheerfully if some retributed disaster would
• 8:53:49
  ruin the harpies, who suck these poor fellows so unmercifully. End of Chapter
• 8:53:58
  twenty. Chapter twenty, on Forest and Foxgloves. You saw a warm climb
• 8:54:07
  Kennys, a free and easy reception. The autumn woods entering Humboldt County,
• 8:54:15
  dry climatic belts, the King's Peak Range, the Mattole Valley, the village
• 8:54:24
  of Petrolia, reminders of earthquake. Cape Mendocino, a salient point, its
• 8:54:32
  lighthouse, a sunset cape town, the Bear River Range, Cedars, gentle
• 8:54:42
  teamsters, the Sitka Spruce, Ferndale, Eel River, an official hold up,
• 8:54:52
  Humboldt Bay, Eureka, the capital of Northern California, its prospects and
• 8:54:59
  history. The next morning brought another lovely day of autumn weather. The road
• 8:55:07
  now led up the mountain, among the timber of which, although the best
• 8:55:10
  had long ago been cut, the second growth was fine enough to be delightful
• 8:55:15
  to any tree lover. It was made up of redwood, spruce, and
• 8:55:22
  some lowland fir, with smaller growth of madronio and tanbark oak, and an
• 8:55:28
  underbrush of barberry, huckleberry and rhododendron. The last to my regret, long
• 8:55:35
  past blooming. Reaching the crest, I looked directly over to the mountains of
• 8:55:40
  Humboldt, ridging up in magnificent blue of timber. A lakelike carp of sea
• 8:55:49
  lay in middle distance, and in the forested foreground rose huge and rugged stems
• 8:55:55
  of redwood. A long descent led to the abandoned settlement of Rockport. I
• 8:56:04
  saw nothing there alive but a few pigs rooting under the old pair and apple
• 8:56:08
  trees, and numbers of frisky little trout practicing somersaults in the ripples of the
• 8:56:15
  creek. It was a pleasant surprise to find foxgloves growing hereabout actual rosy,
• 8:56:22
  purple blotched foxgloves, such as I last saw in the lanes of Surrey and
• 8:56:28
  Devon. They were growing too, in proper company, among a tangled bronze
• 8:56:35
  bracken, green and crimson brambles, hazels and purple headed thistles. Such a
• 8:56:42
  meeting would warm the heart of any traveler, and it called for all my
• 8:56:46
  determination to pass the place without camping. After ten miles more of a very
• 8:56:53
  hilly road varied between cliff and forest, I came down by a long grade
• 8:57:00
  to a minute hamlet in a deep ravine with the Norse sounding name of us.
• 8:57:06
  All precipitous hills rose all around, except where Usel Creek twists its way
• 8:57:14
  out to the sea. It was mid afternoon, and we were both tired
• 8:57:19
  with heat and climbing, so I was minded to put up instead of tackling
• 8:57:23
  the long steep climb that showed ahead. Meeting a man with dog and gun,
• 8:57:30
  I inquired the number of miles to the next stopping place, not over
• 8:57:35
  ten, I knew fourteen, he answered. I judged by the odd miles
• 8:57:40
  that he was the innkeeper, and resolved to go on rather than take his
• 8:57:45
  bluff. We entered now a wonderful tract of forest, the finest I had
• 8:57:52
  seen, and evidently virgin, for there was no mark of either cutting or
• 8:57:58
  fire. The heat, however, was so great, with so much humidity,
• 8:58:02
  that I had little spirit for the observation, and once or twice as
• 8:58:07
  I dragged Antona the steep grade, I really thought sunstroke was imminent. Anton
• 8:58:14
  also felt the exhaustion and reeked with perspiration beyond anything I had seen in the
• 8:58:20
  midsummer heat of the valley's farther south. It was an immense relief when evening
• 8:58:27
  shades came with delicious temperature, and I rode on leisurely through the grateful gloom,
• 8:58:34
  catching glimpses through forest windows of a gorgeous sunset that dulled and died imperceptibly
• 8:58:40
  into the clear indigo of nightfall. It was quite dark before the barking of
• 8:58:46
  dogs heralded our approach to an old ranch house, where I was received with
• 8:58:52
  rough hospitality by the successor of the original Kenny, whose name the place bears.
• 8:59:00
  I entered the house, a freckled tomboy of five, who was in
• 8:59:04
  process of being undressed before the fire and had reached the stage that immediately preceded
• 8:59:08
  the nightgown, came charging and butting at me with her tousled head, declaring
• 8:59:14
  that she was going to cut off my ears. Such a free and easy
• 8:59:19
  reception could not fail to put a gentleman at his ease, and did not
• 8:59:22
  need her father's admiring apology. You mustn't mind the little old madam, sir.
• 8:59:29
  She's a great girl, is Susan, whatever way you take her.
• 8:59:35
  The way next morning continued through the same fine forest, varied with occasional but
• 8:59:40
  more distant vistas of ocean. Again, the day was hot, and we
• 8:59:46
  soon fell into a saunter, which allowed us to give some attention to side
• 8:59:52
  interests, mine mainly botanical. Anton's more of the appetite autumn was abroad,
• 9:00:01
  with her palet charged with all manner of sober and gorgeous hues. The poison
• 9:00:07
  oak was especially noticeable, glowing in every fine gradation, from palest lemon,
• 9:00:15
  through chrome yellow, ashy rose, and crimson into a dark magnificence of dragon's
• 9:00:22
  blood. Madronos spread here and there with a spray of brilliant scarlet, and
• 9:00:29
  their smooth red brown stems broke startlingly athwart the purple columns of the redwoods.
• 9:00:36
  Huckleberries were plentiful and seductive, and I was only sorry that they were not
• 9:00:40
  as congenial to my companion's palette as to my own. Even the foliage of
• 9:00:46
  this charming plant is so vigorous and dainty that one would think it might be
• 9:00:52
  brewed into some healthful sort of beer. Now and then a group of maple
• 9:00:59
  shone from some hollow in pale glory of gold, acorns pattered, and cones
• 9:01:05
  came softly thumping down at every push of wind. The forest sounds were always
• 9:01:12
  interesting to Anton, who glanced from side to side with evident enjoyment, and
• 9:01:16
  seemed to be comparing this country with his native Arizona, to the advantage of
• 9:01:22
  the latter. In a clearing, I noticed a deserted house that was formerly
• 9:01:29
  a wayside inn. The proprietor had some time ago shot one of his guests
• 9:01:34
  in a quarrel, and had gone into retirement for a time, owing probably
• 9:01:38
  to the unfortunate falling off of business that would follow the incident. During the
• 9:01:46
  afternoon, we crossed from Mendocino into Humboldt County, the dividing line being the
• 9:01:52
  fortieth parallel of latitude. Although the forty second parallel was recognized as the northern
• 9:02:00
  boundary of Mexico's territory at the transfer of eighteen forty six, the practical disappearance
• 9:02:07
  of Spanish names from the map some distance to the south of where I now
• 9:02:10
  was is a mark of the actual limit of Spanish and Mexican settlement. The
• 9:02:17
  country here for a short distance showed the marks of a drier climate, and
• 9:02:22
  the brush included many plants not found elsewhere so far north. A mountain over
• 9:02:30
  which the road passed at this point is called Chemise Mountain, from the common
• 9:02:35
  name given to the dry brush growths of the southern part of the state.
• 9:02:40
  The moisture loving redwoods ceased abruptly as we crossed a ridge, while the tracks
• 9:02:45
  of deer were unusually plentiful. By sundown we came to a lonely ranch house
• 9:02:52
  in an amphitheater of spruce covered hills. I was surprised to find that this
• 9:02:58
  secluded place was and lately a post office with the name of Frank. Here
• 9:03:05
  I found lodging for self and partner with pleasant people, and in the morning
• 9:03:10
  continued on my way by a road paralleling the coast. At two or three
• 9:03:15
  miles distance, Shelter Cove, a lumber shipping point on a pretty bay,
• 9:03:22
  lay on a side road to the west. Here again the land lies in
• 9:03:27
  a belt of drier climate, and I found a scattering growth of the knob
• 9:03:30
  cone pine, a tree whose liking is all for arid regions. These individuals
• 9:03:37
  were unusually full of cones. Even little pindlings of two or three feet height
• 9:03:44
  had taken thought for the propagation of their race. Anton was not in good
• 9:03:51
  form to day. I had to keep up a constant hauling when leading him
• 9:03:54
  up or down the steep hills, and a chronic drumming of heels when riding.
• 9:04:00
  It was my habit when hauling became too arduous, to notify him in
• 9:04:06
  so many words, that I should mount and ride if he did not do
• 9:04:09
  better, if there was no improvement or right Anton, just as you say,
• 9:04:16
  I added, and then got up into the saddle without further argument.
• 9:04:22
  Anton quite understood this program. Often the warning took effect, but in the
• 9:04:30
  other case he would look at me with soft reproach, heave a profound sigh,
• 9:04:36
  and break into a trot, which might last for five minutes. To
• 9:04:40
  day, it was continual climbing, either up or down, and we toiled
• 9:04:45
  on hour after hour in rather low spirits. The road had turned inland,
• 9:04:52
  crossing the King's Peak Range, which here borders the coast. Early in the
• 9:04:59
  afternoon we came out on the summit into an open moorland country, dotted with
• 9:05:05
  fine white oaks, under one of which I subsided my last ounce of energy.
• 9:05:10
  Exhausted, A half hour's rest in the shade prepared us for the long
• 9:05:16
  descent into the valley of the Metol. The road seemed interminable, looping and
• 9:05:23
  doubling about us, as if determined to spin out the miles to the limit
• 9:05:29
  of our endurance. My map showed a place named Wilder about half way down,
• 9:05:36
  but I could see no settlement whatsoever. It proved later that a decrepit
• 9:05:42
  shack I had passed standing in a neglected orchard was the sum total of the
• 9:05:47
  village I had been looking for. A mile or two farther on, I
• 9:05:52
  met a man with a wagon tiling up the grade, the only human being
• 9:05:58
  I had seen since leaving my last night stopping place. I feel I was
• 9:06:04
  not much alive to the beauty of the sunset lighted forest through which we passed,
• 9:06:08
  though I recalled afterwards that the scenery had been particularly fine. About dusk,
• 9:06:15
  we came out of the timber into the valley of the Metol, a
• 9:06:19
  wide, handsome stream which we forded, and half a mile beyond found a
• 9:06:24
  comfortable looking old fashioned ranch house with children playing hide and seek among the bushes
• 9:06:30
  of the garden. Fortunately, we could be accommodated. The family was friendly,
• 9:06:37
  supper was hilarious with skylarking children, and my spirits soon regained their normal
• 9:06:44
  level of content. I slept finely in my little white room and was only
• 9:06:49
  awakened by the morning uproar of the pack of dogs, which my host kept
• 9:06:53
  to protect his property from the codies, wildcats and bears that infest the Roos
• 9:07:00
  region. The road now followed the valley of the Mattole, parallel with the
• 9:07:05
  coast, but at six or eight miles distance and shut off from it by
• 9:07:09
  the hills of the Kouski Range. On the other hand, rose the higher
• 9:07:15
  line of the Rainbow Ridge. This valley was one of the prettiest I had
• 9:07:21
  seen. I passed a number of comfortable ranch houses and many prosperous orchards,
• 9:07:27
  principally of apples. From what I saw, I believed this locality is destined
• 9:07:32
  to be famous for that particular crop. The river is a very delightful one,
• 9:07:39
  clear and winding, enlivened with ducks and trout, and the sandy margin
• 9:07:45
  was everywhere marked with the tracks of deer. It was deplorable to be unable,
• 9:07:52
  for lack of fodder to take advantage of such superlative attractions for camping.
• 9:07:59
  But in default we made the best of the pleasures. On the way.
• 9:08:02
  We sauntered along, munching our apples, drankard every stream and spring, and
• 9:08:08
  did not fail to remark on the goodness of the draft. It was interesting
• 9:08:15
  to find a few ewes among the varied timber on the south bank of the
• 9:08:19
  river. I had not before met the tree in this country, and it
• 9:08:22
  was a pleasant surprise to recognize the scarlet cupped berries shining beneath the graceful sprays
• 9:08:29
  of foliage. It has an open and airy manner of growth, which makes
• 9:08:35
  it quite different from the somber, close growing tree of English churchyards. Today
• 9:08:43
  we had no sight of the sea. The coast here trends considerably westward to
• 9:08:47
  Point Gorda, whence it runs north a few miles to Cape Mendocino, and
• 9:08:52
  thence somewhat more easterly to the Oregon line. The road kept a mean a
• 9:09:00
  northwesterly course, and by evening I was again approaching the coast, and stopped
• 9:09:05
  for the night in the village of Petrolia. Lying in the open lower valley
• 9:09:08
  of the Mattol Petrolia, as its name seemed to signify, once had great
• 9:09:15
  expectations in oil, but these have not been realized. This failure, and
• 9:09:22
  a double disaster of fire in nineteen o four and of earthquake two years later,
• 9:09:30
  both curiously on the same day of the year, might well discourage the
• 9:09:34
  modest settlement. The first hotel had been destroyed by the fire, which nearly
• 9:09:39
  obliterated the little place, and the dwelling house, which is now used as
• 9:09:45
  an inn, was literally broken in half by the earthquake. A landslide had
• 9:09:51
  occurred near the summit of a high hill to the east of the village,
• 9:09:54
  when the great trees by hundreds were snapped off like matches before the eyes of
• 9:10:00
  the terrified petroleums roused, or rather thrown early from their beds on that fateful
• 9:10:07
  morning. The roads now led directly to the coast, passing through an interesting
• 9:10:15
  country, alternating between canyons dark with timber and hillsides yellow with parched grass.
• 9:10:23
  The firs were here especially fine, and I felt that my old partiality for
• 9:10:29
  the family was again justified. An hour's ride brought me to the shore where
• 9:10:36
  I saw a few miles up the coast the long profile of Cape Mendocino standing
• 9:10:42
  out at sharp angle with a conical sugar loaf rock at its point, marking
• 9:10:46
  what is the most westerly land of the United States, with the exception of
• 9:10:52
  Cape Flattery, just on the Canadian border. Anton was in better fettle to
• 9:10:58
  day, enjoying like my off the cool sea wind after several days of heat,
• 9:11:04
  and appreciating the level stretches of road succeeding a long course of hills.
• 9:11:10
  He cantered gaily along by the mile, making no account of the two hundred
• 9:11:15
  pounds and over of his load. With all respect to Chino of faithful memory,
• 9:11:22
  I must say that if I had a Anton from the start, I
• 9:11:24
  should have saved much time and might have afforded many days for side expeditions,
• 9:11:30
  which I now had to forego. At a little cabin by the roadside and
• 9:11:36
  close to the beach, I met with two of the county officers who were
• 9:11:39
  stealing away from official cares to spend a few days with the deer, trout,
• 9:11:45
  and quail. While we ate our lunch together, one of them,
• 9:11:50
  an old Humboldt and Trinity man, tapped the reminiscent vein to lively effect the
• 9:11:57
  days of his youth forty years ago wild ones in the regions, and he
• 9:12:01
  himself had more than once been feathered, as he put it, by the
• 9:12:06
  redskins, as his souvenir scars attested. By the time I took the road
• 9:12:12
  my old friend, the Pacific fog, which during the morning I had seen
• 9:12:16
  lying in wait off shore, had crept in and was pouring in chilly wreaths
• 9:12:22
  over the crests of the northern hills. A couple of miles took us to
• 9:12:27
  Cape Mendocino Head, learned of some geographical renown. It was discovered in fifteen
• 9:12:34
  forty two by Cabrio, who named it in honor of the illustrious Signor Antonio
• 9:12:39
  de Mendoza, then Viceroy of Mexico, and its far westerly projection rendered it
• 9:12:47
  always a salient point in early navigations along this coast. I did not fail
• 9:12:53
  to pay a homage to the memory of the brave seamen, who, only
• 9:12:58
  fifty years after the discos recovery of the Western continent, was exploring far up
• 9:13:02
  this unknown coast. For whatever more might be added to the glory of Spain
• 9:13:08
  beyond the marvels of Mexico and Peru. But that that glory was even then
• 9:13:15
  almost at the beginning of its decline, there would hardly have occurred that strange
• 9:13:21
  discrepancy between the civilization of the eastern and western sides of the continent, which
• 9:13:27
  was only ended by the gold discoveries of eighteen forty eight. A cluster of
• 9:13:32
  white buildings set high up on the slope of the cape marked the lighthouse.
• 9:13:37
  I climbed up to it and found the building to be a small, low
• 9:13:40
  one, but its situation, four hundred feet above the tide enables it to
• 9:13:46
  send its beam far out over the dark night waters. Four miles farther out
• 9:13:54
  at sea, a lightship is stationed to mark a reef. It was drawing
• 9:14:00
  towards evening when I turned my horse into the road and took my way down
• 9:14:06
  to the valley of the Bear River. The fog lay close along the coast,
• 9:14:10
  but inland the country was glowing with a sunset of unusual beauty. The
• 9:14:16
  Bear River range rose opposite, veiled in amethysteine haze, and below me the
• 9:14:22
  middle distance was a mystery of fairy like hues only defined here and there by
• 9:14:29
  purple masses of fir forest behind. For contrast, the ocean showed cold and
• 9:14:36
  sullen under wreaths of fog, but its voice came from the distance with a
• 9:14:40
  wistful tone that blended with the evening reverie of colour. An hour's ride took
• 9:14:49
  us to the valley, and, splashing through the stream in the dusk,
• 9:14:52
  we came into the village of Cape Town, where anet in and a comfortable
• 9:14:57
  stable, respectively awaited us. The road from here led next day over the
• 9:15:04
  bare river range. The fog had stayed in and alleviated the long, hard
• 9:15:09
  climb up the southward facing slope. Now and then a wash of pale sunlight
• 9:15:15
  broke through, revealing the massed trees on the ridges to the south and east.
• 9:15:22
  On nearing the summit, we entered the timber, mainly of spruce,
• 9:15:25
  but mixed here and there with scattering red cedars Thuya picata. This was another
• 9:15:32
  tree that was new to me, and is the timber of which the long
• 9:15:37
  canoes, once used by the Indians of this coast, were made. I
• 9:15:42
  tied anton and spent a good deal of time in tramping about among a prodigious
• 9:15:46
  tangle of damp brush and ferns, making myself acquainted with the features of the
• 9:15:52
  species. It is a tree similar in foliage, but quite different in fruit
• 9:15:59
  from the incense of this sierra. While I was eating lunch beside a brook
• 9:16:05
  that crossed the road, two heavy wagons came crawling up and stopped for the
• 9:16:09
  midday hour while the teams and teamsters fed and rested. The men had been
• 9:16:15
  driving over this road regularly for some time and had made friends with all the
• 9:16:21
  small wildlife of the immediate locality. Evidently they were expected. Birds came swooping
• 9:16:29
  toward them as soon as they saw that they had arrived, and were fed
• 9:16:32
  with bits of bread, which they took boldly from their hands. Three chipmunks
• 9:16:37
  dined in a litter of hay set out for them close by, and the
• 9:16:42
  lizards were regaled with flies which had been caught for the purpose during the morning.
• 9:16:49
  The men were rough enough in speech and manner, but evidently their quality
• 9:16:52
  of heart was recognized by the democracy of the wild. Now came a descent
• 9:17:00
  as long as the rise, but beautified with fine timber. Here appeared yet
• 9:17:07
  another coniferous tree, the Sitka spruce Picia cicensis, a handsome but somewhat mournful
• 9:17:15
  tree, with long trailing branchlets that hang like the funeral fringes of undertakers.
• 9:17:23
  It is most interesting to the traveling tree lover to meet thus, one after
• 9:17:29
  another, the particular species of his locality. A rough and particularly broken tract
• 9:17:37
  known as the wild Cat Country occurs here, and with it a doleful quantity
• 9:17:42
  of burned timber. Farms were few and secluded, and I guessed from the
• 9:17:47
  appearance of the few people I passed on the road the large proportion of the
• 9:17:52
  farmers are Scandinavians. Coming at length down along grade, I saw below me
• 9:17:59
  the water wide valley of the Eel River, and the river itself, at
• 9:18:04
  this season, at its lowest but not a contemptible stream, with the town
• 9:18:07
  of Ferndale lying prettily on the southern edge of the valley. Looking round to
• 9:18:14
  the west, I could make out a thin white line of surf four miles
• 9:18:19
  away. Ferndale is a fair sized town for this thinly populated country, wear
• 9:18:24
  several stores, a bank, and the unwonted choice of two hotels. The
• 9:18:31
  next day being Sunday, I passed here a peaceful, gray day, enjoying
• 9:18:37
  by contrast, walking among the old fashioned cottage gardens full of cosmos, autumn
• 9:18:43
  roses, and a hawthorn or two with red haws twinkling among the bronze foliage.
• 9:18:51
  Next morning, I took the road for Eureka, an authentic city and
• 9:18:54
  what may be called the capital of the northern part of the state, as
• 9:18:58
  San Francisco is of the central and Los Angeles of the southern portions. The
• 9:19:05
  morning was overcast, with a thin mist filling the valley and giving a spectral
• 9:19:09
  air to the scattered spruces that sprinkled the landscape. At Singly, I met
• 9:19:16
  the northern division of the Northwestern Pacific Railway, the southern part of which I
• 9:19:22
  had left two hundred miles to the south. Here also I crossed the Eel
• 9:19:27
  River, paying toll for the use of a bridge, which, as I
• 9:19:30
  found when I came to the place where it should have been, did not
• 9:19:34
  exist. It was an interesting question whether I had paid my two bits for
• 9:19:39
  the view of the ruins of the old bridge, or as a forced contribution
• 9:19:44
  toward the cost of the fine new one, which I saw at a little
• 9:19:47
  distance upstream, nearly ready for use. Our road now crossed a flat topped
• 9:19:54
  hill known as Table Bluff. The country here is dairy land of the richest,
• 9:20:01
  and I passed many wagons that were taking their morning tribute of milk to
• 9:20:06
  the creamery at Ferndale. A mile or two brought us within sight of Humboldt
• 9:20:12
  Bay, marked by the long spit of land that separates it from the ocean
• 9:20:15
  and almost renders it land locked. I was soon skirting the eastern shore of
• 9:20:22
  the bay and passed through two or three small water side places where vessels were
• 9:20:28
  loading with lumber. By early afternoon we were once more, and for the
• 9:20:32
  last time, among trolley poles and street cars, and in due course we
• 9:20:38
  entered Eureka and put up for a couple of days. The city of Eureka
• 9:20:45
  looks older than it is. It was in eighteen fifty that the first settlement
• 9:20:51
  of some two dozen people was made, only sixty years ago, though even
• 9:20:55
  that is a respectable age for the West. But something probably the dampness of
• 9:21:01
  its climate keeps the paint of its houses subdued to a comfortable dinginess. It
• 9:21:09
  is a pushing, thriving city of some twelve thousand people, and even in
• 9:21:15
  advance of the completion of its railway, connection with the central and southern parts
• 9:21:20
  of the state, and with the world in general. The places shared fully
• 9:21:23
  in the great Western Trek. With its fine bay fourteen miles long and its
• 9:21:31
  other commercial attractions, no doubt its citizens have grounds for the exuberance of their
• 9:21:37
  forecasts, apart from practical considerations. It was interesting to recall that brett Hart
• 9:21:45
  here took his first steps towards fame by means of the local newspaper, and
• 9:21:51
  to see the remains of old Fort Humboldt, where General then Lieutenant Grant was
• 9:21:57
  stationed for a while some years before the Great War, provided his great opportunity.
• 9:22:04
  It seems probable that, but for the narrowness of the entrance to the
• 9:22:07
  bay and the surf which obscures the passage, a Spanish settlement would have been
• 9:22:13
  made at this point. The harbor appears to have been overlooked entirely until the
• 9:22:19
  year eighteen o six, when Captain Windship, employed on this coast by the
• 9:22:23
  Russian American Fur Company, was informed by one of his alutes of the existence
• 9:22:29
  of a fine bay beyond the line of surf, and piloted his ship the
• 9:22:34
  ocean safely into the quiet waters end of Chapter twenty one. Chapter twenty two
• 9:22:45
  Arcada, Furs and daisies, Mad River, stump Land, Trinidad Bay,
• 9:22:52
  Headland and Lighthouse Lagoons, Norwegian and Indian. The coast, Hemlock, the
• 9:23:01
  village of Rich Fine, game country, splendid forest, fog among the redwoods,
• 9:23:08
  A weird scene. A strange couple sentiment yields to fact. Crossing the
• 9:23:16
  Klamath River requa the Klamath Indians, the forest again, Crescent City, saloons,
• 9:23:27
  and a prospective harbor. Doubtful sailing dates, Smith River Corners, the
• 9:23:35
  Oregon Coast in view. The goal is reached. Congratulations, good Bye to
• 9:23:42
  Anton and to Oregon. It was the twenty fifth of October when I left
• 9:23:49
  Eureka. Though my time was not limited, I had planned when I began
• 9:23:53
  the trip that I would finish it by the end of this month, and
• 9:23:58
  it looked as though I should just about keep my date. Here. We
• 9:24:02
  said goodbye finally to cities and railroads, though not entirely to automobiles, a
• 9:24:08
  few of which travel the Coast Road, though the bulk of road traffic takes
• 9:24:13
  the inland way through Red Bluff and Shasta. The morning was dull and cold,
• 9:24:21
  with a look of rain which at this season might be expected without much
• 9:24:24
  warning. I had to take a secuitous road in order to avoid the wide
• 9:24:30
  stretch of swamp land that lies to the east of Humboldt Bay and road twelve
• 9:24:37
  miles before rounding the head of the bay at Arcada, only six miles from
• 9:24:40
  Eureka by airline. This region is the finest of dairy land, flat and
• 9:24:47
  green, most of it having been originally forested. The roadside was adorned with
• 9:24:53
  many old stumps of redwoods on the slowly decaying tops of which little all gardens
• 9:25:00
  of herbage and small shrubby plants were flourishing. The climate offers a continual bonus
• 9:25:07
  to vegetation. Even in the rainless summer. Growth goes on unchecked by aid
• 9:25:13
  of the fogs, and the ground is automatically fertilized by generous deposits of humus.
• 9:25:21
  At Arcada, a clean small town which once aspired to the leadership of
• 9:25:25
  the bay and the county, the road turned again directly north and gradually drew
• 9:25:31
  to the coast. Outlying blocks of timber varied the level farming land, but
• 9:25:37
  the main body of the forest lay a mile or two to the north and
• 9:25:42
  east, A long dark wall seerried reticent, beautiful. A faint growl came
• 9:25:51
  from the ocean. Bushes of firs appeared here and there beside the road,
• 9:25:55
  introduced I suspect by some sentimental bris, and the grass was sprinkled with pink
• 9:26:02
  tipped daisies. Sometimes the road ran between high banks overgrown with herbage and shrubbage,
• 9:26:12
  and often past pleasant old fashioned cottages with little semi wild gardens and careless
• 9:26:17
  apple trees. Thereby it was altogether a charming scene to any one who prefers
• 9:26:25
  the simplicities to the elegances of life. Here I crossed another considerable stream bearing
• 9:26:34
  the name of mad River. Its character did not seem to suit the title,
• 9:26:39
  and I learned later that the name referred to a quarrel that had arisen
• 9:26:44
  here among a party of early settlers in the neighborhood. Think of using Nature's
• 9:26:51
  bright pages as a memorandum book of some foolish squabble. A westerly turn of
• 9:26:57
  the road brought us down to the shore a few miles south of Trinidad Bay.
• 9:27:02
  A strong wind was blowing, and all up and down the shore a
• 9:27:07
  salty mist overhung the meeting of land and water. To the north, the
• 9:27:13
  coast rose again to cliffs crested with timber, and the dark shape of Trinidad
• 9:27:19
  Head stood out in firm outline, with a glint of white marking the lighthouse
• 9:27:23
  on the seaward edge. Interminable zigzag grades now led through miles of stump land,
• 9:27:32
  where blackened torsos of redwood made a dismal mockery of a forest. The
• 9:27:39
  melancholy sky and chill wind gave an appropriate setting to the forbidding scene, and
• 9:27:45
  occasional dashes of rain added a touch of physical discomfort to round out the impression.
• 9:27:53
  I kept Anton moving at a good pace, and by early evening we
• 9:27:57
  came to anchor at the little town of Trinidad. This was once a place
• 9:28:01
  of more importance than it is at present. The harbor, though small,
• 9:28:07
  is a good one, with deep water, close in shore, and shelter
• 9:28:12
  from all winds except the southwesterly. To the Spaniards, it was known as
• 9:28:17
  Puerto Trinidad, though little enough can have been its use as a port to
• 9:28:22
  them. I saw the remains of an old landing place, but the Trinidad
• 9:28:28
  of to day has settled on its lees and contents itself with making a feeble
• 9:28:32
  appeal to summer visitors. The bay is a pretty one, with rocky and
• 9:28:38
  wooded shores, and the presence of a few Indians who live in rattle trap
• 9:28:44
  huts at the foot of the bluff adds an element of the squalidly picturesque.
• 9:28:52
  I paid my visit to the lighthouse, which occupies a striking position on the
• 9:28:55
  face of the almost perpendicular headland. It is a fourth order station, employing
• 9:29:02
  a total force of one man. The present keeper has been in charge for
• 9:29:07
  twenty three years, and for a wonder had no desire for a change.
• 9:29:14
  The other lighthouse men I had talked with were almost to a man, living
• 9:29:17
  in hope of being transferred to another post, which was natural enough considering the
• 9:29:23
  loneliness and monotony of their lives. Leaving Trinidad the next afternoon, ten miles
• 9:29:31
  of delightful road varied between cliff and forest, brought us to Big Lagoon.
• 9:29:38
  This is the first and largest of a chain of three lakes lying close along
• 9:29:44
  the shore. At the southern points of the lagoon, I found a wayside
• 9:29:49
  stopping place kept by good Norse people, and here I put up A considerable
• 9:29:55
  number of Indians are scattered through this region, which is not far from the
• 9:30:00
  Hooper Valley Reservation. While I was chatting at the door, an Indian woman
• 9:30:06
  with a painted chin a solemn papoose slung at her back, came up with
• 9:30:09
  a present of huckleberries from my hostess. It was pleasant to see the cordiality
• 9:30:15
  of their manner to one another. A party of bucks were at work a
• 9:30:20
  mile or two up the beach, washing out the oriiferous sand, which all
• 9:30:24
  along the coast in the locality of the Klamath River yields gold in small quantity.
• 9:30:32
  A cloudless morning with a smart touch of frost set us early on our
• 9:30:37
  way. Two miles took us to the foot of the lagoon. Then the
• 9:30:42
  road turned northward, following its eastern shore through a noble forest of redwood,
• 9:30:47
  spruce and hemlock. I hear was just entering the territory of this last named
• 9:30:54
  tree, to Suga heterophilla, with whose grace and daintiness I fell at once
• 9:31:00
  in love. The leaves are fine, feathery and of a soft yet brilliant
• 9:31:07
  green, the stem a deep brown overshaded with gray, and the cones quaintly
• 9:31:15
  small and fairy like, hanging like beads below the drooping sprays of foliage.
• 9:31:22
  The timber was unusually dense, and the play of light through fathoms of waving
• 9:31:28
  foliage was so charming that I was compared to rain up at every moment in
• 9:31:32
  admiration. By now Anton was used to my vagaries, and when he saw
• 9:31:38
  my notebook coming out, applied himself without delay to the herbage. It was
• 9:31:45
  always amusing to me to watch his programme. When he saw me putting away
• 9:31:49
  book and pencil, that was his cue to cram his mouth in the greatest
• 9:31:53
  haste and up to the last moment. But he always marched on good naturedly
• 9:32:00
  when I gave the word. A couple of miles of open country gave opportunity
• 9:32:06
  for a gallop to make up some of Olas's time, and brought us by
• 9:32:09
  noon to Stone Lagoon, the second of the lakes. Stopping at a ranch
• 9:32:15
  house to buy a few apples, I was gratuitously loaded with as many as
• 9:32:20
  I could carry away. Here, foxgloves appeared again by the roadside, and
• 9:32:27
  occasionally a few violets. Daisies too were plentiful, and now and then a
• 9:32:34
  late wild rose smiled from a thicket. Once. I even found a bush
• 9:32:39
  of luscious wild azalea in bloom three months out of its place in the floral
• 9:32:45
  procession. The third lagoon, called fresh Water, though smaller than the others,
• 9:32:52
  is a fine sheet of water fully a mile long. The road runs
• 9:32:59
  high above it, and looking down from my elevation, the surface seems covered
• 9:33:02
  almost solidly with water fowl. A mile beyond it, I came to the
• 9:33:08
  village of Ourek, and it being now mid afternoon, I put up an
• 9:33:13
  old fashioned building ranch, house and hotel together kept by hearty Scots Irish folks.
• 9:33:21
  The guns, rods and dogs over which I stumbled at every turn,
• 9:33:24
  seemed to imply a fine game country. The place is very attractive in situation
• 9:33:30
  and surroundings, on the banks of a pretty trout stream, only a mile
• 9:33:36
  from both sea and lake, and back by a ridge of primeval forest that
• 9:33:40
  rises from the rich land of an ever green valley. The road next day
• 9:33:46
  passed still through the same superb forest. The beauty and majesty of the great
• 9:33:52
  trees were deeply impressive, and their thronging numbers quite staggering. The hemlock in
• 9:34:00
  particular again charmed me. There is an inexpressible richness in those downward sweeping fans
• 9:34:08
  of foliage, dark yet sumptuous, a fragile grace in their drooping spires and
• 9:34:15
  branchlets that makes each tree individually lavable. The spruces, too, are wonderful,
• 9:34:24
  the stems extraordinary in girth and perfect in straightness and taper. The cones
• 9:34:31
  of this tree are exceedingly pretty, the scales small and regular and of a
• 9:34:37
  bright light brown colour, and the foliage hangs in ropelike valances from the downward
• 9:34:44
  curving branches. As for the redwoods, they were more than ever memorable in
• 9:34:50
  their columnus, steadfastness, and symmetry. A marked habit of this species is
• 9:34:55
  its manner of growing in twins or triplets of stee from a single base,
• 9:35:01
  which in such cases is often of prodigious size. I noted many trunks that
• 9:35:07
  were over twenty feet in diameter, and many trees that were fully two hundred
• 9:35:12
  and fifty feet in height, though by reason of the colossal size of the
• 9:35:16
  whole assembly, the dimensions of individuals would hardly be guessed. A few maples
• 9:35:23
  grew among the creeks, upholstered completely in the greenest of moss. Their scanty
• 9:35:30
  remaining leaves were glowing with autumn fire, and the gloom of the forest aisles
• 9:35:35
  was lighted up by their large, ragged stars of purest yellow on every stump
• 9:35:43
  and fallen log, and on every fork and bulge of living tree. Little
• 9:35:47
  elves, gardens of small plants and fungi were growing dainty sprays of vaccinium,
• 9:35:53
  red and orange toadstools, barbary gaultheria. And the roadside banks were set with
• 9:36:00
  myriads of ferns, while mosses grew to such size that I sometimes mistook them
• 9:36:07
  free young growth of some stiff heathery plant. The day was overcast, and
• 9:36:14
  all the morning the clouds crept and wreathed about the higher ridges. As the
• 9:36:20
  day went on, the fog lowered till the dense white mist enveloped us on
• 9:36:24
  our tree companions. The effect of this close forest was strange and beautiful,
• 9:36:31
  the straight, dark stems of the trees standing all about me, outlined against
• 9:36:37
  a vaporous background of white that strongly accented the perspective one had obscured all detail.
• 9:36:46
  Heavy drops fell from the branches, dimly seen overhead, and a low
• 9:36:52
  and muffled sound came from the surf on the shore a mile away. The
• 9:36:58
  place was weird and Dante in the extreme, and I could have thought myself
• 9:37:02
  wandering in the gloomy forest of dis While I was standing on a bank above
• 9:37:09
  the road, admiring the novel and mysterious scene, a man and a woman
• 9:37:15
  came around the bend of the road and stopped to speculate upon Anton, who
• 9:37:19
  was tied close by. As they did not see me, I had time
• 9:37:23
  for speculating on them and myself. They were young and well dressed. The
• 9:37:30
  man was bareheaded and had a pleasing face, and both had the air of
• 9:37:35
  education and good breeding. They were walking abreast, carrying between them a rifle
• 9:37:42
  at the midst of which a bundle was slung. The woman's face showed a
• 9:37:46
  pallor that might imply the early stages of consumption, and I rapidly fitted up
• 9:37:52
  a theory that they were a young husband and wife, a kind of forest
• 9:37:57
  lovers who were endeavoring by a wandering life in the open to ward off the
• 9:38:01
  dread disease. On the strength of this romantic idea, I felt quite sympathetic
• 9:38:07
  toward them. After a few moments during which they discussed anton and pointed out
• 9:38:14
  to each other the items of his equipment. It occurred to me that it
• 9:38:17
  would be awkward to be discovered thus with an appearance of taking stock of them.
• 9:38:22
  So I said good afternoon, and they turned and saw me. We
• 9:38:29
  exchanged a few sentences, bearing upon the weather, the forest, and the
• 9:38:32
  destinations we had to go, respectively to our intended destinations for the night,
• 9:38:38
  and then we walked slowly on. It was a ludicrous sequel to find later
• 9:38:45
  that they were adventurers who had been traveling with horse and wagon, giving Stereopticon
• 9:38:52
  entertainments at any little place where they could get an audience, and leaving a
• 9:38:57
  long and mournful train of creditors in their works. There Stereopticon had been seized
• 9:39:04
  somewhere up country, and the horse and wagon had been impounded at Crescent City
• 9:39:07
  to satisfy other bills which had been destined for settlement by the skipping process.
• 9:39:15
  These facts, when I learned them, seemed to show a new light upon
• 9:39:20
  the interest they had shown in my good horse and my other property. One
• 9:39:24
  could hardly imagine two people whose appearance was more at variance with such a mode
• 9:39:30
  of living, and I have often wondered what were the beginning and the ends
• 9:39:34
  of their adventures. Somewhere hereabouts we crossed into del nort County, which is
• 9:39:42
  the northernmost county of the state, and therefore would be the final one of
• 9:39:45
  our expedition. I mentioned this to Anton, and he was depressed by the
• 9:39:52
  gloom of the day and showed no particular interest in the prospect of a speedy
• 9:39:57
  release from his duties. The forest ended abruptly soon after we crossed the county
• 9:40:02
  line, and we now came again directly to the coast. The road ran
• 9:40:07
  close to the shore, but high up on the cliff, and the sound
• 9:40:13
  of a heavy surf roaring below us, unseen for the fog, produced a
• 9:40:17
  queer sensation. Occasionally the scream of a sea bird came up from the gray
• 9:40:23
  void with startling effect. Back from the cliff edge stretched an open hill side
• 9:40:30
  of bronzed fern mixed with brush and a scattering of low growing spruces. Some
• 9:40:38
  miles of This brought us by evening close to the mouth of the Klamath River,
• 9:40:43
  where I was fortunate in finding lodging at a comfortable house on the cliff.
• 9:40:46
  Escaping the dismal alternative of the Earn at Recua, on the farther side
• 9:40:52
  of the stream. The people were cultivated and friendly, and I passed a
• 9:40:58
  most pleasant Sunday with music magazines and a pervading thunder of breakers on the river
• 9:41:05
  bar half a mile away. On the morning of Monday, the thirtieth of
• 9:41:10
  October, I crossed the Klamath, succeeding after ten minutes whooping in gaining the
• 9:41:16
  attention of the Indian who operates the ferry when not too deeply engaged in loafing
• 9:41:22
  about the village. The Klamath is a fine stream, fully a quarter of
• 9:41:27
  a mile wide. Here at its mouth, looking up it from midstream,
• 9:41:32
  I saw a wide, smooth sheet of reddish colored water sweeping between high forested
• 9:41:37
  walls. Such a river as it has long been my wish to explore from
• 9:41:44
  sea to source, but this was not to be the occasion. I landed
• 9:41:51
  at Requa, a village of a dozen or so houses, with a population
• 9:41:55
  that is half Indian and principally employed in the salmon can of which there are
• 9:42:00
  two nearby. The Indians had an intelligent and prosperous look at a neat little
• 9:42:08
  stalk kept by one of them. I purchased a few of the baskets for
• 9:42:12
  which the tribe is noted. Besides the many uses which the California Indians in
• 9:42:19
  general find for their baskets, the squares of this locality use them as head
• 9:42:22
  coverings with picturesque effect. When it is said that this small settlement is the
• 9:42:30
  second place in size in the county, it will be seen that the population
• 9:42:34
  of Del Norte is not imposing in numbers. It seems strange that this little
• 9:42:39
  region of some forty miles square should have been formed into a county at all,
• 9:42:45
  but that is their business, and the Del Nortians do not omit to
• 9:42:51
  tell you that their small territory shows a greater assessed valuation per head for its
• 9:42:57
  people than any other county of the state. Today again was cloudy, and
• 9:43:04
  the forests still wore an aspect of gentle gloom. Golden maples shed a glory
• 9:43:10
  over the little creeks that crept with soundless flow along every hollow, and here
• 9:43:16
  and there a bush of the exquisite vine maple glowed with the lifeblood of the
• 9:43:22
  dying year. I rode hour after hour through this delightful land reveling in the
• 9:43:30
  companionable quietude, and indulging to the full in that quickening of mind and sympathy
• 9:43:37
  which are the peculiar spiritual boons of a forest. From time to time,
• 9:43:44
  the deep, wise voice of the ocean came to me in thoughtful undertone.
• 9:43:51
  Bird and animal life seemed almost absent, and the automobile element was gratefully rare
• 9:43:59
  of. The road was cordioid and did not lend itself to the motorists ideal
• 9:44:04
  speed. We started rather late and had traveled slowly, so that it was
• 9:44:08
  dusk before we emerged from the forest and came down to the beach. A
• 9:44:14
  cheerful beam came from the lighthouse a few miles to the northwest, marking the
• 9:44:19
  point of the bay on which Crescent City is built. The road was bad,
• 9:44:24
  but there was a bright moon, and I turned Anton down to the
• 9:44:28
  hard sand of the beach and put him into an exhilarating canter. Soon the
• 9:44:35
  lights of houses began to twinkle distantly, then gleamed across the water of the
• 9:44:38
  bay, and we clattered down the main street of Crescent City, just in
• 9:44:44
  time to save me my supper at the hotel. I devoted the next morning
• 9:44:50
  to a tour of the city, which revealed nothing noteworthy beyond a phenomenal number
• 9:44:55
  of drinking places. I think this smallest of California cities, with a population
• 9:45:01
  of about twelve hundred, can probably claim the pre eminence in proportion of saloons
• 9:45:07
  to inhabitants. Nevertheless, the place has, on the whole an attractive look.
• 9:45:14
  The general topic of discussion seemed to be a harbor which it is proposed
• 9:45:19
  to make on a neighboring arm of the ocean called Lake Earl in the west.
• 9:45:24
  That is a poor community. Indeed, that is not always some harbor
• 9:45:29
  or railway in prospect. Delnoort's principal link with the rest of the world is
• 9:45:35
  a small steamer which plies with regular irregularity between Crescent City and San Francisco.
• 9:45:43
  This was to be my means of returning to the South. When I inquired
• 9:45:49
  the next sailing date, the reply was not very explicit. Hm, let's
• 9:45:54
  see, said the agent, this is Tuesday. Wells, you ought to
• 9:45:59
  sail Thursday, but I guess you'd better figure on Friday. Anyway, he
• 9:46:05
  would not commit himself to anything more definite, and in some disgust I was
• 9:46:09
  leaving the office when he called me back to add say it might be saturday.
• 9:46:15
  You know, on this shifting foundation, I had to lay my plans.
• 9:46:22
  I took my road in the afternoon for the few miles of California that
• 9:46:27
  remained. The coast here trends westerly to Point Saint George, but the road
• 9:46:32
  lay two or three miles inland to escape the inlet or lake, the Lake
• 9:46:37
  Oil which I've mentioned. The country for some miles was more open, with
• 9:46:45
  occasional farms that had been reclaimed from forest, a much stump land in process
• 9:46:50
  of clearing. Then for a mile or two I rode through a belt of
• 9:46:55
  virgin forest as fine as any I had seen. The redwoods are here almost
• 9:47:01
  at then northern boundary, for they appear in Oregon only in one or two
• 9:47:06
  scattered groves just beyond the line. It seems remarkable that the tree should see
• 9:47:13
  so abruptly, since it flourishes in undiminished power up to the limits of its
• 9:47:17
  range, giving no hint of dissatisfaction with its conditions of soil or climate.
• 9:47:24
  California may fairly boast that both species of the greatest of American trees, the
• 9:47:30
  famous big tree and the redwood are practically confined to the state. On emerging
• 9:47:38
  from the forest, I found myself approaching Smith River, which runs in a
• 9:47:43
  wide green valley opening to the sea. Two miles brought us to the river,
• 9:47:49
  which at this season was shallow, though normally as a very considerable stream.
• 9:47:54
  By evening I was at the village of Smith River Corners and of Sleepy
• 9:48:00
  Hollow, close to the junction of a tributary with the epic sounding name of
• 9:48:06
  Rowdy Creek. Here I put up for the night at the village inn,
• 9:48:10
  and next morning pursued my way toward the final goal. The road passed through
• 9:48:17
  a region of prosperous farms and gradually approached the coast, which here is not
• 9:48:22
  high, though backed by a broken ground that rises to the dignity of hills.
• 9:48:30
  Blocks of dark timber diversified the landscape, and the shore was picturesquely varied,
• 9:48:36
  with storm blown spruces and a foam ringed islet or two. I gazed
• 9:48:43
  with particular interest at the northward reaches of the coast, for though there was
• 9:48:46
  nothing notable in the view, I realized that at last I was looking up
• 9:48:52
  the coast of Oregon. I put Anton to his best pace. We dashed
• 9:49:00
  along a mile of pleasant road, passing a trio of hilarious Indians in a
• 9:49:05
  crazy buckboard, skirted a dusky thicket of spruces, and at half past ten
• 9:49:12
  on the first of November, galloped gayly up to a post on the nearer
• 9:49:16
  face of which was inscribed California and the other Oregon. I had accomplished my
• 9:49:25
  purpose. The coast of California, cliff and dune, rock and sand,
• 9:49:31
  forest and barren Bay, lagoon and headland, was henceforth mapped plainly in my
• 9:49:38
  mind, a panorama of nearly ten degrees of latitude and not much less than
• 9:49:45
  two thousand miles of actual travel. Taking into account the sundry divergencies I had
• 9:49:51
  made and the windings of the way, I rode Anton down to the beach,
• 9:49:58
  tied him to a stump that rejected from the sand, and threw myself
• 9:50:01
  down beside him for a congratulatory pipe. It was a matter of regret that
• 9:50:08
  he could not join me in it, but I promised him instead unlimited oats
• 9:50:14
  at his stable. That night, when I had felt that I had done
• 9:50:19
  justice to the occasion as far as circumstances allowed, I mounted and rode a
• 9:50:22
  few miles further up the coast for good measure, crossing a pretty stream called
• 9:50:28
  Windchuck Creek, which empties just to the north of the line. In the
• 9:50:34
  afternoon, I rode leisurely back to Smith River Corners, and at the supper
• 9:50:38
  table, with no little compunction, arranged a deal with the local livery man,
• 9:50:44
  whereby my staunch comrade of so many miles changed owners. As I looked
• 9:50:51
  into his intelligent eyes at parting, I wished there was some way by which
• 9:50:54
  I could express my thanks and farewells as warmly as I felt them. Next
• 9:51:02
  morning, I returned to Crescent City to find that the sailing time of the
• 9:51:06
  steamer was still in as much doubt as when I had left, except that
• 9:51:10
  Thursday had been automatically ruled out of the list of possibilities. There was a
• 9:51:16
  general opinion that Saturday might be the day, but it came and went,
• 9:51:21
  and the steamer made no sign. At the breakfast table on Sunday, rumor
• 9:51:27
  set the event for noon of that day, but an experienced pessimist construed the
• 9:51:32
  word in this bearing to mean five or six o'clock in the evening. I
• 9:51:38
  was just about starting for a walk to while away a few hours, when
• 9:51:43
  a blast from the steamer signaled passengers to come aboard. I hurried down to
• 9:51:49
  the wharf and was entertained for an hour with the spectacle of the loading of
• 9:51:52
  a car load of tan bark. Then arrived a load of bones, and
• 9:51:58
  an odoriferous half an hour was devoted to the leisurely stowing of these. At
• 9:52:05
  last, a flat car rumbled down the rails of the wharf, hauled by
• 9:52:08
  two mules and driven by the good captain of the del Norte. On the
• 9:52:15
  car was a group of personally conducted passengers who had much the air of being
• 9:52:20
  figures on an aragorical float. In a procession, the gangplank was thrown out,
• 9:52:25
  we scrambled aboard. The whistle blew again, the ropes were cast off,
• 9:52:31
  and in a drizzle of rain, Crescent City and the misty coasts of
• 9:52:36
  Oregon vanished from sight. The end