The Silverado squatters

(Sac? JCibris

University of California • Berkeley

Bequest of
MABIAN ALLEN WILLIAMS

THE

SILVERADO SQUATTERS

BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

AN INLAND VOYAGE.

EDINBURGH: PICTURESQUE NOTES.

TRAVELS WITH A DONKEY.

VIRGINIBUS PUERISQUE.

FAMILIAR STUDIES OF MEN AND BOOKS.

NEW ARABIAN NIGHTS.

TREASURE ISLAND.

THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

THE

SILVERADO SQUATTERS

BY

ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON

Honfcon

CHATTO AND WINDUS, PICCADILLY
1883

[All rights reserved}

' ' Vixerunt nonulli in agris, delectati re sua familiari. His idem proposition
fuit quod regibus, ut ne qua re agerent, ne cui parerent, libertate uterentur :
cujus proprium est sic vivere ut velis." — Cic., De Off,, I. xx.

TO

VIRGIL WILLIAMS

AND

DORA NORTON WILLIAMS

THESE SKETCHES AEE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
BY THEIE FKIEND

THE AUTHOR.

CONTENTS.

IN THE VALLEY:

PAGE

I. Calistoga ... ... ... 13

II. The Petrified Forest ... 24

III. Napa Wine ... ... ... 34

IV. The Scot Abroad ... ... 48

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL :

I. To Introduce Mr. Kelmar ... 59

II. First Impressions of Silverado 68

III. TheKeturn ... ... ... 92

THE ACT OF SQUATTING ... ... 193

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY ... ... ... 127

THE SEA FOGS ... ... ... 153

THE TOLL HOUSE ... ... ... 171

A STARRY DRIVE ... ... ... 135

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE ... ... 197

TOILS AND PLEASURES ... 223

THE

SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

THE scene of this little book is on a high
mountain. There are, indeed, many
higher ; there are many of a nobler
outline. It is no place of pilgrimage for
the summary globe-trotter; but to one
who lives upon its sides, Mount Saint
Helena soon becomes a centre of interest.
It is the Mont Blanc of one section of the
Californian Coast Eange, none of its near
neighbours rising to one-half its altitude.
It looks down on much green, intricate
country. It feeds in the spring-time
many splashing brooks. From its summit

/ B

2 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

you must have an excellent lesson of
geography : seeing, to the south, San
Francisco Bay, with Tamalpais on the
one hand and Monte Diablo on the other ;
to the west and thirty miles away, the
open ocean ; eastward, across the corn-
lands and thick tule swamps of Sacra-
mento Valley, to where the Central
Pacific railroad begins to climb the sides
of the Sierras ; and northward, for what I
know, the white head of Shasta looking
down on Oregon. Three counties, Napa
County, Lake County, and Sonoma
County, march across its cliffy shoulders.
Its naked peak stands nearly four thou-
sand five hundred feet above the sea ;
its sides are fringed with forest ; and the
soil, where it is bare, glows warm with
cinnabar.

Life in its shadow goes rustically

TEE SILVEBADO SQUATTERS. 3

forward. Bucks, and bears, and rattle-
snakes, and former mining operations,
are the staple of men's talk. Agriculture
has only begun to mount above the
valley. And though in a few years from
now the whole district may be smiling
with farms, passing trains shaking the
mountain fco the heart, many-windowed
hotels lighting up the night like factories,
and a prosperous city occupying the site
of sleepy Calistoga ; yet in the mean
time, around the foot of that mountain
the silence of nature reigns in a great
measure unbroken, and the people of hill
and valley go sauntering about their
business as in the days before the flood.

To reach Mount Saint Helena from
San Francisco, the traveller has twice to
cross the bay : once by the busy Oakland
Ferry, and again, after an hour or so of

4 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

the railway, from Vallejo junction to
Vallejo. Thence he takes rail once more
to mount the long green strath of Napa
Valley.

In all the contractions and expansions
of that inland sea, the Bay of San
Francisco, there can be few drearier
scenes than the Vallejo Ferry. Bald
shores and a low, bald islet inclose the
sea ; through the narrows the tide
bubbles, muddy like a river. When we
made the passage (bound, although yet
we knew it not, for Silverado) the steamer
jumped, and the black buoys were dancing
in the jabble; the ocean breeze blew
killing chill ; and, although the upper sky
was still unflecked with vapour, the sea
fogs were pouring in from seaward, over
the hilltops of Marin county, in one great,
shapeless, silver cloud.

THE SILVERADO SQUATTEES. 5

South. Vallejo is typical of many
Calif ornian towns. It was a blunder ;
the site has proved untenable ; and,
although it is still such a young place by
the scale of Europe, it has already begun
to be deserted for its neighbour and
namesake, North Vallejo. A long pier, a
number of drinking saloons, a hotel of a
great size, marshy pools ' where the frogs
keep up their croaking, and even at high
noon the entire absence of any human face
or voice — these are the marks of South
Yallejo. Yet there was a tall building
beside the pier, labelled the Star Flour
Mills ; and sea-going, full-rigged ships
lay close along shore, waiting for their
cargo. Soon these would be plunging
round the Horn, soon the flour from the
Star Flour Mills would be landed on the
wharves of Liverpool. For that, too,

6 THE SILVERADO SQUATTER 8.

is one of England's outposts ; thither, to
this gaunt mill, across the Atlantic and
Pacific deeps and round about the icy
Horn, this crowd of great, three-masted,
deep-sea ships come, bringing nothing,
and return with bread.

The Frisby House, for that was the
name of the hotel, was a place of
fallen fortunes, like the town. It was
now given up to labourers, and partly
ruinous. At dinner there was the ordinary
display of what is called in the west a
two-bit house : the tablecloth checked
red and white, the plague of flies, the
wire hencoops over the dishes, the great
variety and invariable vileness of the food,
and the rough coatless men devouring
it in silence. In our bedroom, the stove
would not burn, though it would smoke ;
and while one window would not open,

THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS. 7

the other would not shut. There was a
view on a bit of empty road, a few dark
houses, a donkey wandering with its
shadow on a slope, and a blink of sea,
with a tall ship lying anchored in the
moonlight. All about that dreary inn
frogs sang their ungainly chorus.

Early the next morning we mounted
the hill along a wooden footway, bridging
one marish spot after another. Here and
there, as we ascended, we passed a house
embowered in white roses. More of the
bay became apparent, and soon the blue
peak of Tamalpais rose above the green
level of the island opposite. It told us
we were still but a little way from the
city of the Golden Gates, already, at that
hour, beginning to awake among the
sand-hills. It called to us over the
waters as with the voice of a bird. Its

8 THE SILVERADO SQUATTER 8.

stately head, blue as a sapphire on the
paler azure of the sky, spoke to us of
wider outlooks and the bright Pacific.
For Tamalpais stands sentry, like a
lighthouse, over the Golden Gates,
between the bay and the open ocean,
and looks down indifferently on both.
Even as we sawr and hailed it from
Vallejo, seamen, far out at sea, were
scanning it with shaded eyes ; and, as if
to answer to the thought, one of the
great ships below began silently to clothe
herself with white sails, homeward bound
for England.

For some way beyond Vallejo the rail-
way led us through bald green pastures.
On the west the rough highlands of Marin
shut off the ocean ; in the midst, in long,
straggling, gleaming arms, the bay died
out among the grass ; there were few

TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS. 9

trees and few enclosures ; the sun shone
wide over open uplands, the displumed
hills stood clear against the sky. But by-
and-by these hills began to draw nearer
on either hand, and first thicket and then
wood began to clothe their sides ; and
soon we were away from all signs of the
sea's neighbourhood, mounting an inland,
irrigated valley. A great variety of oaks
stood, now severally, now in a becoming
grove, among the fields and vineyards.
The towns were compact, in about equal
proportions, of bright, new wooden
houses and great and growing forest
trees ; and the chapel bell on the engine
sounded most festally that sunny Sun-
day, as we drew up at one green town
after another, with the townsfolk trooping
in their Sunday's best to see the strangers,
with the sun sparkling on the clean

10 THE SILVEBADO SQUATTERS.

houses, and great domes of foliage
humming overhead in the breeze.

This pleasant Napa Valley is, at its
north end, blockaded by our mountain.
There, at Calistoga, the railroad ceases,
and the traveller who intends faring
farther, to the Geysers or to the springs
in Lake County, must cross the spurs of
the mountain by stage. Thus, Mount
Saint Helena is not only a summit, but a
frontier ; and, up to the time of writing,
it has stayed the progress of the iron
horse.

IN THE VALLEY.

IN THE VALLEY.
I.

CALISTOGA.

IT is difficult for a European to imagine
Calistoga, the whole place is so new, and
of such an occidental pattern ; the very
name, I hear, was invented at a supper-
party by the man who found the springs.
The railroad and the highway come up
the valley about parallel to one another.
The street of Calistoga joins them, per-
pendicular to both — a wide street, with
bright, clean, low houses, here and there
a verandah over the sidewalk, here and
there a horse-post, here and there loung-

14 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

ing townsfolk. Other streets are marked
out, and most likely named ; for these
towns in the New World begin with a
firm resolve to grow larger, Washington
and Broadway, and then First and
Second, and so forth, being boldly plotted
out as soon as the community indulges in
a plan. But, in the meanwhile, all the
life and most of the houses of Calistoga
are concentrated upon that street between
the railway station and the road. I never
heard it called by any name, but I will
hazard a guess that it is either Washing-
ton or Broadway. Here are the black-
smith's, the chemist's, the general mer-
chant's, and Kong Sam Kee, the Chinese
laundryman's ; here, probably, is the
office of the local paper (for the place has
a paper — they all have papers) ; and here
certainly is one of the hotels, Cheese-

IN THE VALLEY. 15

borough's, whence the daring Foss, a
man dear to legend, starts his horses for
the Geysers.

It must be remembered that we are
here in a land of stage-drivers and high-
waymen: a land, in that sense, like
England a hundred years ago. The high-
way robber — road- agent, he is quaintly
called — is still busy in these parts. The
fame of Vasquez is still young. Only a
few years go, the Lakeporfc stage was
robbed a mile or two from Calistoga. In
1879, the dentist of Mendocino City, fifty
miles away upon the coast, suddenly
threw off the garments of his trade, like
Grindoff, in The Miller and his Men,
and flamed forth in his second dress as a
captain of banditti. A great robbery was
followed by a^long chase, a chase of days
if not of weeks, among the intricate hill-

16 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

country ; and the chase was followed by
much desultory fighting, in which several
— and the dentist, I believe, amongst the
number — bit the dust. The grass was
springing for the first time, nourished
,upon their blood, when I arrived in
Calistoga. I am reminded of another
highwayman of that same year. " He
had been unwell," so ran his humorous
defence, " and the doctor told him to
take something, so he took the express-
box."

The cultus of the stage-coachman
always flourishes highest where there are
thieves on the road, and where the guard
travels armed, and the stage is not only a
link between country and city, and the
vehicle of news, but has a faint warfaring
aroma, like a man who should be brother
to a soldier. California boasts her famous

IN TEE VALLEY. 17

stage-drivers, and among the famous
Foss is not forgotten. Along the un-
fenced, abominable mountain roads, he
launches his team with small regard to
human life or the doctrine of proba-
bilities. Flinching travellers, who behold
themselves coasting eternity at every
corner, look with natural admiration at
their driver's huge, impassive, fleshy
countenance. He has the very face for
the driver in Sam Weller's anecdote, who
upset the election party at the required
point. Wonderful tales are current of
his readiness and skill. One in particular,
of how one of his horses fell at a ticklish
passage of the road, and how Foss let
slip the reins, and, driving over the fallen
animal, arrived at the next stage with
only three. This I relate as I heard it,
without guarantee.

18 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

I only saw Foss once, though, strange
as it may sound, I have twice talked with
him. He lives out of Calistoga, at a
ranche called Fossville. One evening,
after he was long gone home, I dropped
into Cheesehorough's, and was asked if I
should like to speak with Mr. Foss.
Supposing that the interview was impos-
sible, and that I was merely called upon
to subscribe the general sentiment, I
boldly answered " Yes." Next moment,
I had one instrument at my ear, another
at my mouth, and found myself, with
nothing in the world to say, conversing
with a man several miles off among
desolate hills. Foss rapidly and some-
what plaintively brought the conversation
to an end ; and he returned to his night's
grog at- Fossville, while I strolled forth
again on Calistoga high street. But it

IN THE VALLEY. 19

was an odd thing that here, on what we
are accustomed to consider the very skirts
of civilization, I should have used the
telephone for the first time in my civilized
career. So it goes in these young
countries ; telephones, and telegraphs, and
newspapers, and advertisements running
far ahead among the Indians and the
grizzly bears.

Alone, on the other side of the railway,
stands the Springs Hotel, with its attend-
ant cottages. The floor of the valley is
extremely level to the very roots of the
hills ; only here and there a hillock,
crowned with pines, rises like the harrow
of some chieftain famed in war ; and right
against one of these hillocks is the
Springs Hotel — is or was ; for since I
was there the place has been destroyed
by fire, and has risen again from its

20 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

ashes. A lawn runs about the house, and
the lawn is in its turn surrounded hy a
system of little five-roomed cottages, each
with a verandah and a weedy palm before
the door. Some of the cottages are let
to residents, and these are wreathed in
flowers. The rest are occupied by
ordinary visitors to the hotel ; and a very
pleasant way this is, by which you have
a little country cottage of your own,
without domestic burthens, and by the
day or week.

The whole neighbourhood of Mount
Saint Helena is full of sulphur and of
boiling springs. The Geysers are famous ;
they were the great health resort of the
Indians before the coming of the whites.
Lake County is dotted with spas ; Hot
Springs and White Sulphur Springs are
the names of two stations on the Napa

IN THE VALLEY. 21

Valley railroad ; and Calistoga itself
seems to repose on a mere film above a
boiling, subterranean lake. At one end
of the hotel enclosure are the springs
from which it takes its name, hot enough
to scald a child seriously while I was
there. At the other end, the tenant of a
cottage sank a well, and there also the
water came up boiling. It keeps this end
of the valley as warm as a toast. I have
gone across to the hotel a little after five
in the morning, when a sea fog from the
Pacific was hanging thick and gray, and
dark and dirty overhead, and found the
thermometer had been up before me, and
had already climbed among the nineties ;
and in the stress of the day it was some-
times too hot to move about.

But in spite of this heat from above
and below, doing one on both sides,

22 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Calistoga was a pleasant place to dwell
in ; beautifully green, for it was then that
favoured moment in the Calif ornian year,
when the rains are over and the dusty
summer has not yet set in ; often visited
by fresh airs, now from the mountain,
now across Sonoma from the sea; very
quiet, very idle, very silent but for the
breezes and the cattle bells afield. And
there was something satisfactory in the
sight of that great mountain that enclosed
us to the north : whether it stood, robed
in sunshine, quaking to its topmost
pinnacle with the heat and brightness of
the day ; or whether it set itself to weaving
vapours, wisp after wisp growing, trem-
bling, fleeting, and fading in the blue.

The tangled, woody, and almost track-
less foot-hills that enclose the valley,,
shutting it off from Sonoma on the west,

IN TEE VALLEY. 23

and from Yolo on the east — rough as they
were in outline, dug out by winter
streams, crowned by cliffy bluffs and
nodding pine trees — were dwarfed into
satellites by the bulk and bearing of
Mount Saint Helena. She over-towered
them by two-thirds of her own stature.
She excelled them by the boldness of her
profile. Her great bald summit, clear of
trees and pasture, a cairn of quartz and
cinnabar, rejected kinship with the dark
and shaggy wilderness of lesser hill-tops.

IN THE VALLEY.
II.

THE PETEIFIED FOEEST.

WE drove off from the Springs Hotel
about three in the afternoon. The sun
warmed me to the heart. A broad, cool
wind streamed pauselessly down the
valley, laden with perfume. Up at the
top stood Mount Saint Helena, a bulk
of mountain, bare atop, with tree-fringed
spurs, and radiating warmth. Once
we saw it framed in a grove of tall and
exquisitely graceful white oaks, in line
and colour a finished composition. We
passed a cow stretched by the road-
side, her bell slowly beating time to the

IN THE VALLEY. 25

movement of her ruminating jaws, her
big red face crawled over by half a dozen
flies, a monument of content.

A little farther, and we struck to the
left up a mountain road, and for two
hours threaded one valley after another,
green, tangled, full of noble timber, giving
us every now and again a sight of Mount
Saint Helena and the blue hilly distance,
and crossed by many streams, through
which we splashed to the carriage-step.
To the right or the left, there was scarce
any trace of man but the road we
followed ; I think we passed but one
ranchero's house in the whole distance,
and that was closed and smokeless. But
we had the society of these bright streams
— dazzlingly clear, as is their wont,
splashing from the wheels in diamonds,
and striking a lively coolness through the

26 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

sunshine. And what with the innumer-
able variety of greens, the masses of
foliage tossing in the breeze, the glimpses
of distance, the descents into seemingly
impenetrable thickets, the continual
dodging of the road which made haste to
plunge again into the covert, we had a
fine sense of woods, and spring-time, and
the open air.

Our driver gave me a lecture by the
way on Calif ornian trees — a thing I was
much in need of, having fallen among
painters who know the name of nothing,
and Mexicans who know the name of
nothing in English. He taught me the
madroria, the manzanita, the buck-eye,
the maple ; he showed me the crested
mountain quail ; he showed me where
some young redwoods were already spiring
heavenwards from the ruins of the old;

IN TEE VALLEY. 27

for in this district all had already
perished : redwoods and redskins, the
two noblest indigenous living things,
alike condemned.

At length, in a lonely dell, we came
on a huge wooden gate with a sign upon
it like an inn. "The Petrified Forest.
Proprietor : C. Evans," ran the legend.
Within, on a knoll of sward, was the
house of the proprietor, and another
smaller house hard by to serve as a
museum, where photographs and petri-
factions were retailed. It was a pure
little isle of touristry among these solitary
Mils.

The proprietor was a brave old white-
faced Swede. He had wandered this
way, Heaven knows how, and taken up
his acres — I forget how many years ago
— all alone, bent double with sciatica,

28 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

and with six bits in his pocket and an
axe upon his shoulder. Long, useless
years of seafaring had thus discharged
him at the end, penniless and sick.
Without doubt he had tried his luck at
the diggings, and got no good from that ;
without doubt he had loved the bottle,
and lived the life of Jack ashore. But at
the end of these adventures, here he came ;
and, the place hitting his fancy, down he
sat to make a new life of it, far from
crimps and the salt sea. And the very
sight of his ranche had done him good.
It was " the handsomest spot in the
Californy mountains." " Isn't it hand-
some, now?" he said. Every penny he
makes goes into that ranche to make it
handsomer. Then the climate, with the
sea-breeze every afternoon in the hottest
summer weather, had gradually cured the

IN THE VALLEY. 29

sciatica; and his sister and niece were
now domesticated with him for company
— or, rather, the niece came only once in
the two days, teaching music the mean-
while in the valley. And then, for a
last piece of luck, " the handsomest spot
in the Californy mountains " had pro-
duced a petrified forest, which Mr. Evans
now shows at the modest figure of half
a dollar a head, or two-thirds of his
capital when he first came there with an
axe and a sciatica.

This tardy favourite of fortune — hob-
bling a little, I think, as if in memory of
the sciatica, but with not a trace that I
can remember of the sea — thoroughly
ruralized from head to foot, proceeded to
escort us up the hill behind his house.

"Who first found the forest?" asked
my wife.

30 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

"The first? I was that man," said
he. "I was cleaning up the pasture for
my beasts, when I found this " — kicking
a great redwood, seven feet in diameter,
that lay there on its side, hollow heart,
clinging lumps of bark, all changed into
gray stone, with veins of quartz be-
tween what had been the layers of the
wood.

" Were you surprised ? "

" Surprised ? No ! What would I be
surprised about ? What did I know
about petrifactions — following the sea ?
Petrifaction ! There was no such word
in my language ! I knew about putri-
f action, though! I thought it was a
stone ; so would you, if you was cleaning
up pasture."

And now he had a theory of his own,
which I did not quite grasp, except that

IN THE VALLEY. 31

the trees had not "grewed" there. But
he mentioned, with evident pride, that he
differed from all the scientific people who
had visited the spot ; and he flung about
such words as "tufa" and " scilica "
with careless freedom.

When I mentioned I was from Scotland,
"My old country," he said; "my old
country " — with a smiling look and a
tone of real affection in his voice. I was
mightily surprised, for he was obviously
Scandinavian, and begged him to explain.
It seemed he had learned his English and
done nearly all his sailing in Scotch
ships. "Out of Glasgow," said he, "or
Greenock ; but that's all the same — they
all hail from Glasgow." And he was so
pleased with me for being a Scotsman,
and his adopted compatriot, that he made
me a present of a very beautiful piece of

32 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

petrifaction — I believe the most beautiful
and portable lie had.

Here was a man, at least, who was a
Swede, a Scot, and an American, acknow-
ledging some kind allegiance to three
lands. Mr. Wallace's Scoto-Circassian
will not fail to come before the reader.
I have myself met and spoken with a
Fifeshire German, whose combination of
abominable accents struck me dumb.
But, indeed, I think we all belong to
many countries. And perhaps this habit
of much travel, and the engendering of
scattered friendships, may prepare the
euthanasia of ancient nations.

And the forest itself? Well, on a
tangled, briery hillside — for the pasture
would bear a little further cleaning up,
to my eyes — there lie scattered thickly
various lengths of petrified trunk, such

IN THE VALLEY. 33

as the one already mentioned. It is very
curious, of course, and ancient enough,
if that were all. Doubtless, the heart of
the geologist beats quicker at the sight ;
but, for my part, I was mightily unmoved.
Sight-seeing is the art of disappointment.

" There's nothing under heaven so blue,
That's fairly worth the travelling to."

But, fortunately, Heaven rewards us with
many agreeable prospects and adventures
by the way ; and sometimes, when we go
out to see a petrified forest, prepares a
far more delightful curiosity in the form
of Mr. Evans, whom may all prosperity
attend throughout a long and green old

age.

IN THE VALLEY.
III.

NAPA WINE.

I WAS interested in Calif ornian wine.
Indeed, I am interested in all wines, and
have been all my life, from the raisin
wine that a schoolfellow kept secreted in
his play-box up to my last discovery,
those notable Valtellines, that once shone
upon the board of Caesar.

Some of us, kind old Pagans, watch
with dread the shadows falling on the age :
how the unconquerable worm invades the
sunny terraces of France, and Bordeaux
is no more, and the Rhone a mere Arabia

IN THE VALLEY. 35

Petraea. Chateau Neuf is dead, and I
have never tasted it; Hermitage — a
hermitage indeed from all life's sorrows —
lies expiring by the river. And in the place
of these imperial elixirs, beautiful to every
sense, gem-hued, flower-scented, dream-
compellers : — behold upon the quays
at Cette the chemicals arrayed; behold
the analyst at Marseilles, raising hands in
obsecration, attesting god Lyceus, and the
vats staved in, and the dishonest wines
poured forth among the sea. It is not
Pan only ; Bacchus, too, is dead.

If wine is to withdraw its most poetic
countenance, the sun of the white dinner-
cloth, a deity to be invoked by two or
three, all fervent, hushing their talk,
degusting tenderly, and storing reminis-
cences— for a bottle of good wine, like a
good act, shines ever in the retrospect —

36 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

if wine is to desert us, go thy ways, old
Jack ! Now we begin to have compunc-
tions, and look back at the brave bottles
squandered upon dinner-parties, where the
guests drank grossly, discussing politics
the while, and even the schoolboy "took
his whack," like liquorice water. And at
the same time, we look timidly forward,
with a spark of hope, to where the new
lands, already weary of producing gold,
begin to green with vineyards. A nice
point in human history falls to be decided
by Calif ornian and Australian wines.

Wine in California is still in the experi-
mental stage; and when you taste a
vintage, grave economical questions are
involved. The beginning of vine-planting
is like the beginning of mining for the
precious metals : the wine-grower also
" prospects." One corner of land after

IN TEE VALLEY. 37

another is tried with one kind of grape
after another. This is a failure ; that is
better ; a third best. So, bit by bit, they
grope about for their Clos Vougeot and
Lafite. Those lodes and pockets of earth,
more precious than the precious ores, that
yield inimitable fragrance and soft fire ;

4

those virtuous Bonanzas, where the soil
has sublimated under sun and stars to
something finer, and the wine is bottled
poetry : these still lie undiscovered ;
chaparral conceals, thicket embowers
them ; the miner chips the rock and
wanders farther, and the grizzly muses
undisturbed. But there they bide their
hour, awaiting their Columbus ; and
nature nurses and prepares them. The
smack of Calif ornian earth shall linger
on the palate of your grandson.

Meanwhile the wine is merely a good

38 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

wine ; the best that I have tasted better
than a Beaujolais, and not unlike. But
the trade is poor ; it lives from hand to
mouth, putting its all into experiments,
and forced to sell its vintages. To find
one properly matured, and bearing its
own name, is to be fortune's favourite.

Bearing its own name, I say, and dwell
upon the innuendo.

u You want to know why California
wine is not drunk in the States ? " a San
Francisco wine merchant said to me,
after he had shown me through his
premises. " Well, here's the reason."

And opening a large cupboard, fitted
with many little drawers, he proceeded to
shower me all over with a great variety
of gorgeously tinted labels, blue, red, or
yellow, stamped with crown or coronet,
and hailing from such a profusion of clos

IN THE VALLEY. 39

and chateaux, that a single department
could scarce have furnished forth the
names. But it was strange that all
looked unfamiliar.

" Chateau X ? " said I. "I never

heard of that."

"I dare say not," said he. "I had
been reading one of X 's novels."

They were all castles in Spain ! But
that sure enough is the reason why
California wine is not drunk in the States.

Napa valley has been long a seat of
the wine-growing industry. It did not
here begin, as it does too often, in
the low valley lands along the river,
but took at once to the rough foot-hills,
where alone it can expect to prosper. A
basking inclination, and stones, to be a
reservoir of the day's heat, seem neces-
sary to the soil for wine ; the grossness of

40 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

the earth must be evaporated, its marrow
daily melted and refined for ages ; until
at length these clods that break below
our footing, and to the eye appear but
common earth, are truly and to the per-
ceiving mind, a masterpiece of nature.
The dust of Eichebourg, which the wind
carries away, what an apotheosis of the
dust ! Not man himself can seem a
stranger child of that brown, friable
powder, than the blood and sun in that
old flask behind the faggots.

A Calif ornian vineyard, one of man's
outposts in the wilderness, has features of
its own. There is nothing here to remind
you of the Ehine or Ehone, of the low
cdte d'or, or the infamous and scabby
deserts of Champagne ; but all is green,
solitary, covert. We visited two of them,
Mr. Schram's and Mr. M'Eckron's, sharing
the same glen.

IN THE VALLEY. 41

Some way down the valley below
Calistoga, we turned sharply to the
south and plunged into the thick of
the wood. A rude trail rapidly mount-
ing ; a little stream tinkling by on the
one hand, big enough perhaps after the
rains, but already yielding up its life ;
overhead and on all sides a bower of
green and tangled thicket, still fragrant
and still flower-bespangled by the early
season, where thimble-berry played the
part of our English hawthorn, and the
buck-eyes were putting forth their twisted
horns of blossom : through all this, we
struggled toughly upwards, canted to and
fro by the roughness of the trail, and
continually switched across the face by
sprays of leaf or blossom. The last is no
great inconvenience at home ; but here
in California it is a matter of some

42 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

moment. For in all woods and by every
wayside there prospers an abominable
shrub or weed, called poison-oak, whose
very neighbourhood is venomous to some,
and whose actual touch is avoided by
the most impervious.

The two houses, with their vineyards,
stood each in a green niche of its own in
this steep and narrow forest dell. Though
they were so near, there was already a good
difference in level; and Mr. M'Eckron's
head must be a long way under the feet
of Mr. Schram. No more had been
cleared than was necessary for cultiva-
tion ; close around each oasis ran the
tangled wood ; the glen enfolds them ;
there they lie basking in sun and silence,
concealed from all but the clouds and the
mountain birds.

Mr. M'Eckron's is a bachelor estab-

IN THE VALLEY. 43

lishment ; a little bit of a wooden house,
a small cellar hard by in the hillside, and
a patch of vines planted and tended
single-handed by himself. He had but
recently begun ; his vines were young,
his business young also ; but I thought
he had the look of the man who succeeds.
He hailed from Greenock : he remembered
his father putting him inside Mons Meg,
and that touched me home ; and we
exchanged a word or two of Scotch,
which pleased me more than you would
fancy.

Mr. Schram's, on the other hand, is
the oldest vineyard in the valley, eighteen
years old, I think ; yet he began a
penniless barber, and even after he had
broken ground up here with his black
malvoisies, continued for long to tramp
the valley with his razor. Now, his place

44 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

is the picture of prosperity : stuffed birds
in the verandah, cellars far dug into the
hillside, and resting on pillars like a
bandit's cave : — all trimness, varnish,
flowers, and sunshine, among the tangled
wildwood. Stout, smiling Mrs. Schram,
who has been to Europe and apparently
all about the States for pleasure, enter-
tained Fanny in the verandah, while I
was tasting wines in the cellar. To Mr.
Schram this was a solemn office : his
serious gusto warmed my heart; pros-
perity had not yet wholly banished a
certain neophite and girlish trepidation,
and he followed every sip and read my
face with proud anxiety. I tasted all.
I tasted every variety and shade of
Schramberger, red and white Schram-
berger, Burgundy Schramberger, Schram-
berger Hock, Schramberger Golden

IN THE VALLEY. 45

Chasselas, the latter with a notable
bouquet, and I fear to think how many
more. Much of it goes to London — most,
I think; and Mr. Schram has a great
notion of the English taste.

In this wild spot, I did not feel the
sacredness of ancient cultivation. It was
still raw, it was no Marathon, and no
Johannisberg ; yet the stirring sunlight,
and the growing vines, and the vats and
bottles in the cavern, made a pleasant
music for the mind. Here, also, earth's
cream was being skimmed and garnered ;
and the London customers can taste,
such as it is, the tang of the earth in
this green valley. So local, so quint-
essential is a wine, that it seems the very
birds in the verandah might communicate
a flavour, and that romantic cellar in-
fluence the bottle next to be uncorked in

46 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Pimlico, and the smile of jolly Mr. Schram
might mantle in the glass.

But these are hut experiments. All
things in this new land are moving
farther on : the wine- vats and the miner's
Wasting tools but picket for a night, like
Bedouin pavillions; and to-morrow, to
fresh woods ! This stir of change and
these perpetual echoes of the moving
footfall, haunt the land. Men move
eternally, still chasing Fortune ; and,
fortune found, still wander. As we drove
back to Calistoga, the road lay empty of
mere passengers, but its green side was
dotted with the camps of travelling
families : one cumbered with a great
waggonful of household stuff, settlers
going to occupy a ranche they had taken
up in Mendocino, or perhaps Tehama
County; another, a party in dust coats,

IN THE VALLEY. 47

men and women, whom we found camped
in a grove on the roadside, all on pleasure
bent, with a Chinaman to cook for them,
and who waved their hands to us as we
drove by.

IN THE VALLEY.
IV.

THE SCOT ABROAD.

A FEW pages back, I wrote that a man
belonged, in these days, to a variety of
countries ; but the old land is still the
true love, the others are but pleasant
infidelities. Scotland is indefinable ; it
has no unity except upon the map. Two
languages, many dialects, innumerable
forms of piety, and countless local patriot-
isms and prejudices, part us among our-
selves more widely than the extreme east
and west of that great continent of
America. When I am at home, I feel

IN THE VALLEY. 49

a man from Glasgow to be something
like a rival, a man from Barra to be
more than half a foreigner. Yet let
us meet in some far country, and,
whether we hail from the braes of Manor
or the braes of Mar, some ready-made
affection joins us on the instant. It is
not race. Look at us. One is Norse,
one Celtic, and another Saxon. It is not
community of tongue. We have ifc not
among ourselves ; and we have it almost
to perfection, with English, or Irish,
or American. It is no tie of faith,
for we detest each other's errors. And
yet somewhere, deep down in the heart
of each one of us, something yearns
for the old land, and the old kindly
people.

Of all mysteries of the human heart, this
is perhaps the most inscrutable. There is

50 THE SILVERADO SQUATTKRS.

no special loveliness in that gray country,
with its rainy, sea-beat archipelago ; its
fields of dark mountains ; its unsightly
places, black with coal ; its treeless, sour,
unfriendly looking corn-lands ; its quaint,
gray, castled city, where the bells clash
of a Sunday, and the wind squalls, and
the salt showers fly and beat. I do not
even know if I desire to live there ; but
let me hear, in some far land, a kindred
voice sing out, u Oh, why left I my
harne ? " and it seems at once as if no
beauty under the kind heavens, and no
society of the wise and good, can repay
me for my absence from my country.
And though I think I would rather die
elsewhere, yet in my heart of hearts I
long to be buried among good Scots
clods. I will say it fairly, it grows on
me with every year : there are no stars

IN THE VALLEY. 5L

so lovely as Edinburgh street-lamps.
When I forget thee, auld Beekie, may
my right hand forget its cunning !

The happiest lot on earth is to be born
a Scotchman. You must pay for it in
many ways, as for all other advantages on
earth. You have to learn the paraphrases
and the shorter catechism ; you generally
take to drink ; your youth, as far as I can
find out, is a time of louder war against
society, of more outcry and tears and
turmoil, than if you had been born, for
instance, in England. But somehow life
is warmer and closer ; the hearth burns
more redly; the lights of home shine
softer on the rainy street ; the very
names, endeared in verse and music,
cling nearer round our hearts. An
Englishman may meet an Englishman
to-morrow, upon Chimborazo, and neither

52 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

of them care ; but when the Scotch wine-
grower told ine of Mons Meg, it was like
magic.

" From the dim shieling on the misty island

Mountains divide us, and a world of seas ;
Yet still our hearts are true, our hearts are

Highland,
And we, in dreams, behold the Hebrides."

And, Highland and Lowland, all our
hearts are Scotch.

Only a few days after I had seen
M'Eckron, a message reached me in my
cottage. It was a Scotchman who had
come down a long way from the hills to
market. He had heard there was a
countryman in Calistoga, and came round
to the hotel to see him. We said a few
words to each other; we had not much
to say — should never have seen each
other had we stayed at home, separated
alike in space and in society; and then we

IN THE VALLEY. 53

shook hands, and he went his way again
to his ranche among the hills, and that
was all.

Another Scotchman there was, a
resident, who for the mere love of the
common country, douce, serious, religious
man, drove me all ahout the valley, and
took as much interest in me as if I had
been his son : more, perhaps ; for the son
has faults too keenly felt, while the
abstract countryman is perfect — like a
whiff of peats.

And there was yet another. Upon him
I came suddenly, as he was calmly entering
my cottage, his mind quite evidently bent
on plunder : a man of about fifty, filthy,
ragged, roguish, with a chimney-pot hat
and a tail coat, and a pursing of his
mouth that might have been envied by
an elder of the kirk. He had just such a

54 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

face as I have seen a dozen times behind
the plate.

" Hullo, sir ! " I cried. " Where are you
going?"

He turned round without a quiver.

"You're a Scotchman, sir?" he said
gravely. " So ami; I come from Aber-
deen. This is my card," presenting me
with a piece of pasteboard which he had
raked out of some gutter in the period of
the rains. " I was just examining this
palm," he continued, indicating the mis-
begotten plant before our door, " which is
the largest spacimen I have yet observed
in Calif oarnia."

There were four or five larger within
sight. But where was the use of argu-
ment? He produced a tape-line, made
me help him to measure the tree at the
level of the ground, and entered the figures

IN THE VALLEY. 55

in a large and filthy pocket-book, all with
the gravity of Solomon. He then thanked
me profusely, remarking that such little
services were due between countrymen;
shook hands with me, " for auld lang
syne," as he said; and took himself
solemnly away, radiating dirt and humbug
as he went.

A month or two after this encounter of
mine, there came a Scot to Sacramento —
perhaps from Aberdeen. Anyway, there
never was any one more Scotch in this
wide world. He could sing and dance,
and drink, I presume ; and he played the
pipes with vigour and success. All the
Scotch in Sacramento became infatuated
with him, and spent their spare time and
money, driving him about in an open cab,
between drinks, while he blew himself
scarlet at the pipes. This is a very sad

56 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

story. After he had borrowed money
from every one, he and his pipes sud-
denly disappeared from Sacramento, and
when I last heard, the police were looking
for him.

I cannot say how this story amused me,
when I felt myself so thoroughly ripe on
both sides to be duped in the same way.

It is at least a curious thing, to
conclude, that the races which wander
widest, Jews and Scotch, should be the
most clannish in the world. But perhaps
these two are cause and effect : "For ye
were strangers in the land of Egypt."

WITH THE CHILDREN OF
ISRAEL.

WITH THE CHILDREN
OF ISRAEL.

I.

TO INTRODUCE MR. KELMAR.

ONE thing in this new country very
particularly strikes a stranger, and that is
the number of antiquities. Already there
have been many cycles of population
succeeding each other, and passing away
and leaving behind them relics. These,
standing on into changed times, strike
the imagination as forcibly as any pyramid
or feudal tower. The towns, like the
vineyards, are experimentally founded :
they grow great and prosper by passing

60 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

occasions; and when the lode comes to
an end, and the miners move elsewhere,
the town remains behind them, like
Palmyra in the desert. I suppose there
are, in no country in the world, so many
deserted towns as here in California.

The whole neighbourhood of Mount
Saint Helena, now so quiet and sylvan,
was once alive with mining camps and
villages. Here there would be two thou-
sand souls under canvas ; there one thou-
sand or fifteen hundred ensconced, as if
for ever, in a town of comfortable houses.
But the luck had failed, the mines petered
out ; and the army of miners had departed,
and left this quarter of the world to the
rattlesnakes and deer and grizzlies, and
to the slower but steadier advance of
husbandry.

It was with an eye on one of these

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 61

deserted places, Pine Flat, on the
Geysers road, that we had come first to
Calistoga. There is something singularly
enticing in the idea of going, rent-free,
into a ready-made house. And to the
British merchant, sitting at home at ease,
it may appear that, with such a roof over
your head and a spring of clear water
hard by, the whole problem of the
squatter's existence would be solved.
Food, however, has yet to be considered,
I will go as far as most people on tinned
meats ; some of the brightest moments
of my life were passed over tinned mulli-
gatawney in the cabin of a sixteen-ton
schooner, storm-stayed in Portree Bay ;
but after suitable experiments, I pro-
nounce authoritatively that man cannot
live by tins alone. Fresh meat must
be had on an occasion. It is true that

62 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

the great Foss, driving by along the
Geysers road, wooden-faced, but glorified
with legend, might have been induced to
bring us meat, but the great Foss could
hardly bring us milk. To take a cow
would have involved taking a field of
grass and a milkmaid ; after which it
would have been hardly worth while to
pause, and we might have added to our
colony a flock of sheep and an experienced
butcher.

It is really very disheartening how we
depend on other people in this life.
" Mihi est proposition," as you may see
by the motto, "id quod regibus ; " and
behold it cannot be carried out, unless I
find a neighbour rolling in cattle.

Now, my principal adviser in this
matter was one whom I will call Kelmar.
That was not what he called himself, but

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 63

as soon as I set eyes on him, I knew it
was or ought to be his name ; I am sure
it will be his name among the angels.
Kelmar was the store-keeper, a Eussian
Jew, good-natured, in a very thriving
way of business, and, on equal terms, one
of the most serviceable of men. He also
had something of the expression of a
Scotch country elder, who, by some
peculiarity, should chance to be a
Hebrew. He had a projecting under lip,
with which he continually smiled, or
rather smirked. Mrs. Kelmar was a
singularly kind woman ; and the oldest
son had quite a dark and romantic
bearing, and might be heard on summer
evenings playing sentimental airs on the
violin.

I had no idea, at the time I made his
acquaintance, what an important person

64 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Kelmar was. But the Jew storekeepers
of California, profiting at once by the
needs and habits of the people, have
made themselves in too many cases the
tyrants of the rural population. Credit is
offered, is pressed on the new customer,
and when once he is beyond his depth, the
tune changes, and he is from thenceforth
a white slave. I believe, even from the
little 1 saw, that Kelmar, if he choose to
put on the screw, could send half the
settlers packing in a radius of seven or
eight miles round Calistoga. These are
continually paying him but are never
suffered to get out of debt. He palms
dull goods upon them, for they dare not
refuse to buy ; he goes and dines with
them when he is on an outing, and no
man is loudlier welcomed ; he is their
family friend, the director of their busi-

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 65

ness, and, to a degree elsewhere unknown
in modern days, their king.

For some reason, Kelmar always shook
his head at the mention of Pine Flat, and
for some days I thought he disapproved
of the whole scheme and was proportion-
ately sad. One fine morning, however,
he met me, wreathed in smiles. He had
found the very place for me — Silverado,
another old mining town, right up the
mountain. Eufe Hanson, the hunter,
could take care of us — fine people the
Hansons ; we should be close to the Toll
House, where the Lakeport stage called
daily ; it was the best place for my health,
besides. Eufe had been consumptive,
and was now quite a strong man, ain't
it ? In short, the place and all its
accompaniments seemed made for us on
purpose.

66 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

He took me to his back door, whence,
as from every point of Calistoga, Mount
Saint Helena could be seen towering in
the air. There, in the nick, just where
the eastern foothills joined the mountain,
and she herself began to rise above the
zone of forest — there was Silverado. The
name had already pleased me; the high
station pleased me still more. I began to
inquire with some eagerness. It was but
a little while ago that Silverado was a
great place. The mine — a silver mine, of
course — had promised great things. There
was quite a lively population, with several
hotels and boarding-houses ; and Kelmar
himself had opened a branch store, and
done extremely well — " Ain't it?" he
said, appealing to his wife. And she said,
"Yes; extremely well. " Now there was
no one living in the town but Eufe the

WITH THE CHILDEEN OF ISRAEL. 67

hunter; and once more I heard Rufe's
praises by the yard, and this time sung in
chorus.

I could not help perceiving at the time
that there was something underneath;
that no unmixed desire to have us com-
fortably settled had inspired the Kelmars
with this flow of words. But I was
impatient to be gone, to be about my
kingly project ; and when we were offered
seats in Kelmar's waggon, I accepted on
the spot. The plan of their next Sunday's
outing took them, by good fortune, over
the border into Lake County. They
would carry us so far, drop us at the
Toll House, present us to the Hansons,
and call for us again on Monday morning
early.

WITH THE CHILDREN
OF ISRAEL.

II.

FIKST IMPEESSIONS OF SILVERADO.

WE were to leave by six precisely ; that
was solemnly pledged on both sides ; and
a messenger came to us the last thing at
night, to remind us of the hour. But it
was eight before we got clear of Calistoga :
Kelmar, Mrs. Kelmar, a friend of theirs
whom we named Abramina, her little
daughter, my wife, myself, and, stowed
away behind us, a cluster of ship's coffee-
kettles. These last were highly orna-
mental in the sheen of their bright tin,

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 69

but I could invent no reason for their
presence. Our carriageful reckoned up,
as near as we could get at it, some three
hundred years to the six of us. Four of
the six, besides, were Hebrews. But I
never, in all my life, was conscious of so
strong an atmosphere of holiday. No
word was spoken but of pleasure ; and even
when we drove in silence, nods and smiles
went round the party like refreshments.

The sun shone out of a cloudless sky.
Close at the zenith rode the belated moon,
still clearly visible, and, along one margin,
even bright. The wind blew a gale from
the north ; the trees roared ; the corn
and the deep grass in the valley fled in
whitening surges ; the dust towered into
the air along the road and dispersed like
the smoke of battle. It was clear in our
teeth from the first, and for all the

70 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

windings of the road it managed to keep
clear in our teeth until the end.

For some two miles we rattled through
the valley, skirting the eastern foothills ;
then we struck off to the right, through
haugh-land, and presently, crossing a dry
water-course, entered the Toll road, or,
to be more local, entered on " the grade."
The road mounts the near shoulder of
Mount Saint Helena, bound northward
into Lake County. In one place it skirts
along the edge of a narrow and deep
canyon, filled with trees, and I was glad,
indeed, not to be driven at this point by
the dashing Foss. Kelmar, with his un-
varying smile, jogging to the motion of
the trap, drove for all the world like a
good, plain, country clergyman at home ;
and I profess I blessed him unawares for
his timidity.

WITH THE CHILDBEN OF ISRAEL. 71

Vineyards and deep meadows, islanded
and framed with thicket, gave place more
and more as we ascended to woods of oak
and madrona, dotted with enormous
pines. It was these pines, as they shot
ahove the lower wood, that produced that
pencilling of single trees I had so often
remarked from the valley. Thence, look-
ing up and from however far, each fir
stands separate against the sky no bigger
than an eyelash ; and all together lend a
quaint, fringed aspect to the hills. The
oak is no baby ; even the madrona, upon
these spurs of Mount Saint Helena, comes
to a fine bulk and ranks with forest trees ;
but the pines look down upon the rest for
underwood. As Mount Saint Helena
among her foothills, so these dark giants
out-top their fellow- vegetables. Alas ! if
they had left the redwoods, the pines, in

72 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

turn, would have been dwarfed. But the
redwoods, fallen from their high estate,
are serving as family bedsteads, or yet
more humbly as field fences, along all
Napa Valley.

A rough smack of resin was in the air,
and a crystal mountain purity. It came
pouring over these green slopes by the
oceanful. The woods sang aloud, and
gave largely of their healthful breath.
Gladness seemed to inhabit these upper
zones, and we had left indifference behind
us in the valley. " I to the hills will lift
mine eyes ! " There are days in a life
when thus to climb out of the lowlands,
seems like scaling heaven.

As we continued to ascend, the wind
fell upon us with increasing strength. It
was a wonder how the two stout horses
managed to pull us up that steep incline

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 73

and still face the athletic opposition of
the wind, or how their great eyes were
able to endure the dust. Ten minutes
after we went by, a tree fell, blocking the
road; and even before us leaves were
thickly strewn, and boughs had fallen,
large enough to make the passage difficult.
But now we were hard by the summit.
The road crosses the ridge, just in the
nick that Kelmar showed me from below,
and then, without pause, plunges down a
deep, thickly wooded glen on the farther
side. At the highest point a trail strikes
up the main hill to the leftward ; and
that leads to Silverado. A hundred
yards beyond, and in a kind of elbow of
the glen, stands the Toll House Hotel.
We came up the one side, were caught
upon the summit by the whole weight of
the wind as it poured over into Nap a

74 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Valley, and a minute after had drawn up
in shelter, but all buffetted and breathless,
at the Toll House door.

A water-tank, and stables, and a gray
house of two stories, with gable ends and
a verandah, are jammed hard against the
hillside, just where a stream has cut for
itself a narrow canyon, filled with pines.
The pines go right up overhead ; a little
more and the stream might have played,
like a fire-hose, on the Toll House roof.
In front the ground drops as sharply as it
rises behind. There is just room for the
road and a sort of promontory of croquet
ground, and then you can lean over the
edge and look deep below you through
the wood. I said croquet ground, not
green ; for the surface was of brown,
beaten earth. The toll-bar itself was the
only other note of originality : a long

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 75

beam, turning on a post, and kept slightly
horizontal by a counterweight of stones.
Eegularly about sundown this rude barrier
was swung, like a derrick, across the road
and made fast, I think, to a tree upon
the farther side.

On our arrival there followed a gay
scene in the bar. I was presented to Mr.
Corwin, the landlord ; to Mr. Jennings, the
engineer, who lives there for his health ;
to Mr. Hoddy, a most pleasant little
gentleman, once a member of the Ohio
legislature, again the editor of a local
paper, and now, with undiminished dignity,
keeping the Toll House bar. I had a
number of drinks and cigars bestowed on
me, and enjoyed a famous opportunity of
seeing Kelmar in his glory, friendly,
radiant, smiling, steadily edging one of
the ship's kettles on the reluctant Corwin.

76 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Corwin, plainly aghast, resisted gallantly,
and for that bout victory crowned his
arms.

At last we set forth for Silverado on
foot. Kelmar and his jolly Jew girls were
full of the sentiment of Sunday outings,
hreathed geniality and vagueness, and
suffered a little vile boy from the hotel to
lead them here and there about the woods.
For three people all so old, so bulky in
body, and belonging to a race so venerable,
they could not but surprise us by their
extreme and almost imbecile youthfulness
of spirit. They were only going to stay
ten minutes at the Toll House ; had they
not twenty long miles of road before them
on the other side ? Stay to dinner ? Not
they ! Put up the horses ? Never. Let
us attach them to the verandah by a
wisp of straw rope, such as would not

WITH TEE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 77

have held a person's hat on that bluster-
ing day. And with all these protestations
of hurry, they proved irresponsible like
children. Ke]mar himself, shrewd old
Russian Jew, with a smirk that seemed
just to have concluded a bargain to its
satisfaction, intrusted himself and us
devoutly to that boy. Yet the boy was
patently fallacious ; and for that matter
a most unsympathetic urchin, raised
apparently on gingerbread. He was bent
on his own pleasure, nothing else ; and
Kelmar followed him to his ruin, with the
same shrewd smirk. If the boy said there
was " a hole there in the hill" — a hole,
pure and simple, neither more nor less —
Kelmar and his Jew girls would follow
him a hundred yards to look complacently
down that hole. For two hours we looked
for houses ; and for two hours they

78 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

followed us, smelling trees, picking
flowers, foisting false botany on the un-
wary. Had we taken five, with that vile
lad to head them off on idle divagations,
for five they would have smiled and
stumbled through the woods.

However, we came forth at length,
and as by accident, upon a lawn, sparse
planted like an orchard, but with forest
instead of fruit trees. That was the site
of Silverado mining town. A piece of
ground was levelled up, where Kelmar's
store had been ; and facing that we saw
Eufe Hanson's house, still bearing on its
front the legend Silverado Hotel. Not
another sign of habitation. Silverado
town had all been carted from the scene ;
one of the houses was now the school-
house far down , the road; one was gone
here, one there, but all were gone away.

WITH TEE CHILDEEN OF ISRAEL. 79

It was now a sylvan solitude, and the
silence was unbroken but by the great,
vague voice of the wind. Some days
before our visit, a grizzly bear had been
sporting round the Hansons' chicken-
house.

Mrs. Hanson was at home alone, we
found. Rufe had been out after a "bar,"
had risen late, and was now gone,
it did not clearly appear whither. Per-
haps he had had wind of Kelmar's
coming, and was now ensconced among
the underwood, or watching us from
the shoulder of the mountain. We,
hearing there were no houses to be had,
were for immediately giving up all hopes
of Silverado. But this, somehow, was
not to Kelmar's fancy. He first proposed
that we should " camp someveres around,
ain't it?" waving his hand cheerily as

80 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

though to weave a spell ; and when that
was firmly rejected, he decided that we
must take up house with the Hansons.
Mrs. Hanson had heen, from the first,
flustered, subdued, and a little pale ; but
from this proposition she recoiled with
haggard indignation. So did we, who
would have preferred, in a manner of
speaking, death. But Kelmar was not
to be put by. He edged Mrs. Hanson
into a corner, where for a long time he
threatened her with his forefinger, like a
character in Dickens ; and the poor
woman, driven to her entrenchments, at
last remembered with a shriek that there
were still some houses at the tunnel.

Thither we went ; the Jews, who
should already have been miles into Lake
County, still cheerily accompanying us.
For about a furlong we followed a good

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 81

road along the hillside through the forest,
until suddenly that road widened out and
came abruptly to an end. A canyon,
woody helow, red, rocky, and naked over-
head, was here walled across by a dump
of rolling stones, dangerously steep, and
from twenty to thirty feet in height. A
rusty iron chute on wooden legs came
flying, like a monstrous gargoyle, across
the parapet. It was down this that they
poured the precious ore ; and below here
the carts stood to wait their lading, and
carry it mill- ward down the mountain.

The whole canyon was so entirely
blocked, as if by some rude guerilla

fortification, that we could only mount by

•
lengths of wooden ladder, fixed in the

hillside. These led us round the farther
corner of the dump ; and when they were
at an end, we still persevered over loose

82 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

rubble and wading deep in poison oak, till
we struck a triangular platform, filling up
the whole glen, and shut in on either
hand by bold projections of the moun-
tain. Only in front the place was open
like the proscenium of a theatre, and we
looked forth into a great realm of air, and
down upon treetops and hilltops, and far
and near on wild and varied country.
The place still stood as on the day ifc
was deserted : a line of iron rails with a
bifurcation ; a truck in working order ;
a world of lumber, old wood, old iron ;
a blacksmith's forge on one side, half
buried in the leaves of dwarf madronas ;
and on the other, an old brown wooden
house.

Fanny and I dashed at the house. It
consisted of three rooms, and was so
plastered against the hill, that one room

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. S3

was right atop of another, that the upper
floor was more than twice as large as the
lower, and that all three apartments
must be entered from a different side and
level. Not a window-sash remained.
The door of the lower room was smashed,
and one panel hung in splinters. We
entered that, and found a fair amount of
rubhish : sand and gravel that had been
sifted in there by the mountain winds ;
straw, sticks, and stones ; a table, a barrel;
a plate-rack on the wall ; two home-made
bootjacks, signs of miners and their
boots ; and a pair of papers pinned on
the boarding, headed respectively "Funnel
No. 1," and " Funnel No. 2," but with
the tails torn away. The window,
sashless of course, was choked with the
green and sweetly smelling foliage of a
bay ; and through a chink in the floor, a

84 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

spray of poison oak had shot up and was
handsomely prospering in the interior.
It was my first care to cut away that
poison oak, Fanny standing by at a
respectful distance. That was our first
improvement by which we took posses-
sion.

The room immediately above could
only be entered by a plank propped
against the threshold, along which the
intruder must foot it gingerly, clutching
for support to sprays of poison oak, the
proper product of the country. Herein
was, on either hand, a triple tier of beds,
where miners had once lain ; ' and the
other gable was pierced by a sashless
window and a doorless doorway opening
on the air of heaven, five feet above the
ground. As for the third room, which
entered squarely from the ground level,

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 85

but higher up the hill and further up the
canyon, it contained only rubbish and
the uprights for another triple tier of beds.

The whole building was overhung by a
bold, lion-like, red rock. Poison oak,
sweet bay trees, calcanthus, brush, and
chaparral, grew freely but sparsely all about
it. In front, in the strong sunshine, the
platform lay overstrewn with busy litter,
as though the labours of the mine might
begin again to-morrow in tLe morning.

Following back into the canyon, among
the mass of rotting plant and through
the flowering bushes, we came to a great
crazy staging, with a wry windless on
the top ; and clambering up, we could
look into an open shaft, leading edgeways
down into the bowels of the mountain,
trickling with water, and lit by some
stray sun-gleams, whence I know not.

86 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

In that quiet place the still, far-away
tinkle of the water-drops was loudly
audible. Close by, another shaft led
edgeways up into the superincumbent
shoulder of the hill. It lay partly open ;
and sixty or a hundred feet above our
head, we could see the strata propped
apart by solid wooden wedges, and a
pine, half undermined, precariously nod-
ding on the verge. Here also a rugged,
horizontal tunnel ran straight into the
unsunned bowels of the rock. This
secure angle in the mountain's flank was,
even on this wild day, as still as my
lady's chamber. But in the tunnel a
cold, wet draught tempestuously blew.
Nor have I ever known that place other-
wise than cold and windy.

Such was our first prospect of Juan
Silverado. I own I had looked for some-

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 87

thing different : a clique of neighbourly
houses on a village green, we shall say,
all empty to he sure, hut swept and
varnished; a trout stream brawling by;
great elms or chestnuts, humming with
bees and nested in by song birds; and
the mountains standing round about, as
at Jerusalem. Here, mountain and house
and the old tools of industry were all
alike rusty and downfalling. The hill
was here wedged up, and there poured
forth its bowels in a spout of broken
mineral ; man with his picks and powder,
and nature with her own great blasting
tools of sun and rain, labouring together
at the ruin of that proud mountain. The
view up the canyon was a glimpse of
devastation ; dry red minerals sliding
together, here and there a crag, here and
there dwarf thicket clinging in the

88 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

general glissade, and over all a broken
outline trenching on the blue of heaven.
Downwards indeed, from our rock eyrie,
we beheld the greener side of nature ; and
the bearing of the pines and the sweet
smell of bays and nutmegs commended
themselves gratefully to our senses. One
way and another, now the die was cast.
Silverado be it !

After we had got back to the Toll
House, the Jews were not long of striking
forward. But I observed that one of the
Hanson lads came down, before their
departure, and returned with a ship's
kettle. Happy Hansons ! Nor was it
until after Kelmar was gone, if I remem-
ber rightly, that Eufe put in an ap-
pearance to arrange the details of our
installation.

The latter part of the day, Fanny and

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 89

I sat in the verandah of the Toll House,
utterly stunned by the uproar of the wind
among the trees on the other side of the
valley. Sometimes, we would have it
it was like a sea, but it was not various
enough for that ; and again, we thought
it like the roar of a cataract, but it was
too changeful for the cataract ; and then
we would decide, speaking in sleepy
voices, that it could be compared with
nothing but itself. My mind was entirely
preoccupied by the noise. I hearkened
to it by the hour, gapingly hearkened,
and let my cigarette go out. Sometimes
the wind would make a sally nearer
hand, and send a shrill, whistling crash
among the foliage on our side of the
glen ; and sometimes a back-draught
would strike into the elbow where we
sat, and cast the gravel and torn leaves

90 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

into our faces. But for the most part,
this great, streaming gale passed un-
weariedly by us into Napa Valley, not
two hundred yards away, visible by the
tossing boughs, stunningly audible, and
yet not moving a hair iipon our heads.
So it blew all night long while I was
writing up my journal, and after we were
in bed, under a cloudless, starset heaven ;
and so it was blowing still next morning
when we rose.

It was a laughable thought to us, what
had become of our cheerful, wandering
Hebrews. We could not suppose they
had reached a destination. The meanest
boy could lead them miles out of their
way to see a gopher-hole. Boys, we felt
to be their special danger; none others
were of that exact pitch of cheerful irrele-
vancy to exercise a kindred sway upon

WITH TEE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 91

their minds : but before the attractions
of a boy their most settled resolutions
would be wax. We thought we could
follow in fancy these three aged Hebrew
truants wandering in and out on hilltop
and in thicket, a demon boy trotting far
ahead, their will-o'-the-wisp conductor ;
and at last about midnight, the wind still
roaring in the darkness, we had a vision
of all three on their knees upon a
mountain-top around a glow-worm.

WITH THE CHILDREN
OE ISRAEL.

ill.

THE KETUKN.

NEXT morning we were up by half-past
five, according to agreement, and it was ten
by trie clock before our Jew boys returned
to pick us up : Kelmar, Mrs. Kelmar,
and Abramina, all smiling from ear to ear,
and full of tales of the hospitality they
had found on the other side. It had not
gone unrewarded; for I observed with
interest that the ship's kettles, all but
one, had been " placed." Three Lake
County families, at least, endowed for life
with a ship's kettle. Come, this was no

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 93

misspent Sunday. The absence of the
kettles told its own story : our Jews said
nothing about them; but, on the other
hand, they said many kind and comely
things about the people they had met.
The two women, in particular, had been
charmed out of themselves by the sight
of a young girl surrounded by her ad-
mirers ; all evening, it appeared, they had
been triumphing together in the girl's
innocent successes, and to this natural
and unselfish joy they gave expression
in language that was beautiful by its
simplicity and truth.

Take them for all in all, few people
have done my heart more good ; they
seemed so thoroughly entitled to happi-
ness, and to enjoy it in so large a measure
and so free from after-thought ; almost
they persuaded me to be a Jew. There

94 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

was, indeed, a chink of money in their talk.
They particularly commended people who
were well to do. "He don't care — ain't
it?" was their highest word of com-
mendation to an individual fate ; and
here I seem to grasp the root of their
philosophy — it was to be free from care,
to be free to make these Sunday wander-
ings, that they so eagerly pursued after
wealth ; and all this carefulness was to
be careless. The fine, good humour of
all three seemed to declare they had
attained their end. Yet there was the
other side to it ; and the recipients of
kettles perhaps cared greatly.

No sooner had they returned, than the
scene of yesterday began again. The
horses were not even tied with a straw
rope this time — it was not worth while ;
and Kelmar disappeared into the bar,

WITH THE CHILDREN- OF ISRAEL. 95

leaving them under a tree on the other
side of the road. I had to devote
myself. I stood under the shadow of
that tree for, I suppose, hard upon an
hour, and had not the heart to be
angry. Once some one remembered me,
and brought me out half a tumblerful
of the playful, innocuous American cock-
tail. I drank it, and lo ! veins of living
fire ran down my leg ; and then a focus
of conflagration remained seated in my
stomach, not unpleasantly, for quarter
of an hour. I love these sweet, fiery
pangs, but I will not court them. The
bulk of the time I spent in repeating as
much French poetry as I could remember
to the horses, who seemed to enjoy it
hugely. And now it went —

" 0 ma vieille Font-georges
Ou volent les rouges- gorges : "

[)(> THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

and again, to a more trampling measure—

" Et tout tremble, Irun, Coi'mbre,

Santander, Alinodovar,

Sitot qu'on entend le timbre

l)es cymbales de Bivar."

The redbreasts and the brooks of Europe,
in that dry and songless land ; brave old
names and wars, strong cities, cymbals,
and bright armour, in that nook of the
mountain, sacred only to the Indian
and the bear ! This is still the strangest
thing in all man's travelling, that he
should carry about with him incon-
gruous memories. There is no foreign
land ; it is the traveller only that is
foreign, and now and again, by a flash of
recollection, lights up the contrasts of the
earth.

But while I was thus wandering in my
fancy, great feats had been transacted in

WITH THE CHILDEEN OF ISRAEL. 97

the bar. Corwin the bold had fallen,
Kelmar was again crowned with laurels,
and the last of the ship's kettles had
changed hands. If I had ever doubted
the purity of Kelmar's motives, if I had
ever suspected him of a single eye to
business in his eternal dallyings, now at
least, when the last kettle was disposed
of, my suspicions must have been allayed.
I dare not guess how much more time
was wasted ; nor how often we drove off,
merely to drive back again and renew
interrupted conversations about nothing,
before the Toll House was fairly left
behind. Alas ! and not a mile down the
grade there stands a ranche in a sunny
vineyard, and here we must all dismount
again and enter.

Only the old lady was at home, Mrs.
Guele, a brown old Swiss dame, the

98 TEE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

picture of honesty; and with her we
drank a bottle of wine and had an age-
long conversation, which would have been
highly delightful if Fanny and I had not
been faint with hunger. The ladies each
narrated the story of her marriage, our
two Hebrews with the prettiest combina-
tion of sentiment and financial bathos.
Abramina, specially, endeared herself with
every word. She was as simple, natural,
and engaging as a kid that should have
been brought up to the business of a
money-changer. One touch was so re-
splendently Hebraic that I cannot pass
it over. When her " old man" wrote
home for her from America, her old man's
family would not intrust her with the
money for the passage, till she had bound
herself by an oath — on her knees, I think
she said — not to employ it otherwise.

WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 99

This had tickled Abramina hugely, but
I think it tickled me fully more.

Mrs. Guele told of her home-sickness up
here in the long winters ; of her honest,
country-woman troubles and alarms upon
the journey ; how in the bank at Frank-
fort she had feared lest the banker, after
having taken her cheque, should deny all
knowledge of it — a fear I have myself
every time I go to a bank ; and how
crossing the Luneburger Heath, an old
lady, witnessing her trouble and finding
whither she was bound, had given her
"the blessing of a person eighty years
old, which would be sure to bring her
safely to the States. And the first thing
I did," added Mrs. Guele, "was to fall
downstairs."

At length we got out of the house,
and some of us into the trap, when —

100 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

judgment of Heaven ! — here came Mr.
Guele from his vineyard. So another
quarter of an hour went by ; till at length,
at our earnest pleading, we set forth
again in earnest, Fanny and I white-
faced and silent, but the Jews still
smiling. The heart fails me. There was
yet another stoppage ! And we drove at
last into Calistoga past two in the after-
noon, Fanny and I having breakfasted at
six in the morning, eight mortal hours
before. We were a pallid couple ; but
still the Jews were smiling.

So ended our excursion with the village
usurers ; and, now that it was done, we
had no more idea of the nature of the
business, nor of the part we had been
playing in it, than the child unborn.
That all the people we had met were
the slaves of Kelmar, though in various

WITH TEE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL. 101

degrees of servitude ; that we ourselves
had been sent up the mountain in the
interests of none but Kelmar; that the
money we laid out, dollar by dollar, cent
by cent, and through the hands of various
intermediaries, should all hop ultimately
into Kelinar's till ; — these were facts that
we only grew to recognize in the course
of time and by the accumulation of
evidence. At length all doubt was
quieted, when one of the kettle-holders
confessed. Stopping his trap in the
moonlight, a little way out of Calistoga, he
told me, in so many words, that he dare
not show face there with an empty pocket.
"You see, I don't mind if it was only
five dollars, Mr. Stevens," he said, " but
I must give Mr. Kelmar something"

Even now, when the whole tyranny is
plain to me, I cannot find it in my heart

102 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

to be as angry as perhaps I should be
with the Hebrew tyrant. The whole
game of business is beggar iny neigh-
bour ; and though perhaps that game
looks uglier when played at such close
quarters and on so small a scale, it is
none the more intrinsically inhumane for
that. The village usurer is not so sad
a feature of humanity and human pro-
gress as the millionaire manufacturer,
fattening on the toil and loss of thou-
sands, and yet declaiming from the plat-
form against the greed and dishonesty
of landlords. If it were fair for Cobden
to buy up land from owners whom he
thought unconscious of its proper value,
it was fair enough for my Russian Jew
to give credit to his farmers. Kelmar,
if he was unconscious of the beam in his
own eye, was at least silent in the matter
of his brother's mote*

THE ACT OF SQUATTING.

THE ACT OF SQUATTING.

THEEE were four of us squatters — myself
and my wife, the King and Queen of
Silverado ; Sam, the Crown Prince ; and
Chuchu, the Grand Duke. Chuchu, a
setter crossed with spaniel, was the most
unsuited for a rough life. He had been
nurtured tenderly in the society of ladies;
his heart was large and soft ; he regarded
the sofa-cushion as a bed-rock necessary
of existence. Though about the size of
a sheep, he loved to sit in ladies' laps ;
he never said a bad word in all his
blameless days ; and if he had seen a
flute, I am sure he could have played
upon it by nature. It may seem hard to

106 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

say it of a dog, but Chuchu was a tame
cat.

The king and queen, the grand duke,
and a basket of cold provender for im-
mediate use, set forth from Calistoga in
a double buggy ; the crown prince, on
horseback, led the way like an outrider.
Bags and boxes and a second-hand stove
were to follow close upon our heels by
Hanson's team.

It was a beautiful still day; the sky
was one field of azure. Not a leaf moved,
not a speck appeared in heaven. Only
from the summit of the mountain one
little snowy wisp of cloud after another
kept detaching itself, like smoke from a
volcano, and blowing southward in some
high stream of air : Mount Saint Helena
still at her interminable task, making the
weather, like a Lapland witch.

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 107

By noon we had come in sight of the
mill : a great brown building, half-way
up the hill, big as a factory, two stories
high, and with tanks and ladders along
the roof; which, as a pendicle of Silverado
mine, we held to be an outlying province
of our own. Thither, then, we went,
crossing the valley by a grassy trail ; and
there lunched out of the basket, sitting
in a kind of portico, and wondering,
while we ate, at this great bulk of use-
less building. Through a chink we could
look far down into the interior, and see
sunbeams floating in the dust and striking
on tier after tier of silent, rusty machinery.
It cost six thousand dollars, twelve hun-
dred English sovereigns ; and now, here
it stands deserted, like the temple of a
forgotten religion, the busy millers toiling
somewhere else. All the time we were

108 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

there, mill and mill town showed no sign
of life ; that part of the mountain-side,
which is very open and green, was
tenanted by no living creature but our-
selves and the insects ; and nothing
stirred but the cloud manufactory upon
the mountain summit. It was odd to
compare this with the former days, when
the engine was in full blast, the mill
palpitating to its strokes, and the carts
came rattling down from Silverado,
charged with ore.

By two we had been landed at the
mine, the buggy was gone again, and
we were left to our own reflections and
the basket of cold provender, until Han-
son should arrive. Hot as it was by the
sun, there was something chill in such
a home-coming, in that world of wreck
and rust, splinter and rolling gravel,

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 109

where for so many years no fire had
smoked.

Silverado platform filled the whole
width of the canyon. Ahove, as I have
said, this was a wild, red, stony gully
in the mountains ; but below it was a
wooded dingle. And through this, I was
told, there had gone a path between the
mine and the Toll House — our natural
north-west passage to civilization. I found
and followed it, clearing my way as I
went through fallen branches and dead
trees. It went straight down that steep
canyon, till it brought you out abruptly
over the roofs of the hotel. There was
nowhere any break in the descent. It
almost seemed as if, were you to drop a
stone down the old iron chute at our
platform, it would never rest until it
hopped upon the Toll House shingles.

110 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Signs were not wanting of the ancient
greatness of Silverado. The footpath was
well marked, and had been well trodden in
the old days hy thirsty miners. And far
down, buried in foliage, deep out of sight
of Silverado, I came on a last outpost of
the mine — a mound of gravel, some wreck
of wooden aqueduct, and the mouth of a
tunnel, like a treasure grotto in a fairy
story. A stream of water, fed by the
invisible leakage from our shaft, and dyed
red with cinnabar or iron, ran trippingly
forth out of the bowels of the cave ; and,
looking far under the arch, I could see
something like an iron lantern fastened
on the rocky wall. It was a promising
spot for the imagination. No boy could
have left it unexplored.

The stream thenceforward stole along
the bottom of the dingle, and made, for

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. Ill

that dry land, a pleasant warbling in the
leaves. Once, I suppose, it ran splashing
down the whole length of the canyon,
but now its head waters had been tapped
by the shaft at Silverado, and for a great
part of its course it wandered sunless
among the joints of the mountain. No
wonder that it should better its pace
when it sees, far before it, daylight
whitening in the arch, or that it should
come trotting forth into the sunlight with
a song.

The two stages had gone by when I
got down, and the Toll House stood,
dozing in sun and dust and silence, like
a place enchanted. My mission was
after hay for bedding, and that I was
readily promised. But when I men-
tioned that we were waiting for Eufe,
the people shook their heads. Eufe was

112 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

not a regular man any 'way, it seemed ;

and if he got playing poker Well,

poker was too many for Kufe. I had not
yet heard them bracketted together ; but it
seemed a natural conjunction, and com-
mended itself swiftly to my fears ; and
as soon as I returned to Silverado and
had told my story, we practically gave
Hanson up, and set ourselves to do what
we could find do-able in our desert-island
state.

The lower room had been the assayer's
office. The floor was thick with debris—
part human, from the former occupants ;
part natural, sifted in by mountain winds.
In a sea of red dust there swam or
floated sticks, boards, hay, straw, stones,
and paper ; ancient newspapers, above
all — for the newspaper, especially when
torn, soon becomes an antiquity — and

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 113

bills of the Silverado boarding-house,
some dated Silverado, some Calistoga
Mine. Here is one, verbatim ; and if
any one can calculate the scale of
charges, he has my envious admira-
tion.

Calistoga Mine, May 3rd, 1875.
John Stanley

To S. Chapman, Cr.

To board from April 1st, to April 30 $25 75
„ „ „ May 1st, to 3rd ... 2 00

27 75

Where is John Stanley mining now?
Where is S. Chapman, within whose
hospitable walls we were to lodge ? The
date was but five years old, but in that
time the world had changed for Silverado ;
like Palmyra in the desert, it had outlived
its people and its purpose ; we camped,
like Layard, amid ruins, and these names
spoke to us of pre-historic time. A boot-

114 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

jack, a pair of boots, a dog-hutch, and
these bills of Mr. Chapman's were the
only speaking relics that we disinterred
from all that vast Silverado rubbish-heap ;
but what would I not have given to
unearth a letter, a pocket-book, a diary,
only a ledger, or a roll of names, to take
me back, in a more personal manner, to
the past ? It pleases me, besides, to
fancy that Stanley or Chapman, or one of
their companions, may light upon this
chronicle, and be struck by the name, and
read some news of their anterior home,
coming, as it were, out of a subsequent
epoch of history in that quarter of the
world.

As we were tumbling the mingled
rubbish on the floor, kicking it with our
feet> and groping for these written evi-
dences of the past, Sam, with a some-

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 115

what whitened face, produced a paper
bag. "What's this?" said he. It con-
tained a granulated powder, something
the colour of Gregory's Mixture, but
rosier ; and as there were several of the
bags, and each more or less broken, the
powder was spread widely on the floor.
Had any of us ever seen giant powder ?
No, nobody had ; and instantly there
grew up in my mind a shadowy belief,
verging with every moment nearer to
certitude, that I had somewhere heard
somebody describe it as just such a
powder as the one around us. I have
learnt since that it is a substance not
unlike tallow, and is made up in rolls for
all the world like tallow candles.

Fanny, to add to our happiness, told us
a story of a gentleman who had camped
one night, like ourselves, by a deserted

116 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

mine. He was a handy, thrifty fellow,
and looked right and left for plunder,
hut all he could lay his hands on was a
can of oil. After dark he had to see to
the horses with a lantern ; and not to
miss an opportunity, filled up his lamp
from the oil can. Thus equipped, he set
forth into the forest. A little while after,
his friends heard a loud explosion ; the
mountain echoes bellowed, and then all
was still. On examination, the can
proved to contain oil, with the trifling
addition of nitro- glycerine ; but no re-
search disclosed a trace of either man or
lantern.

It was a pretty sight, after this
anecdote, to see us sweeping out the
giant powder. It seemed never to be far
enough away. And, after all, it was only
some rock pounded for assay.

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 117

So. much for the lower room. We
scraped some of the rougher dirt off the
floor, and left it. That was our sitting-
room and kitchen, though there was
nothing to sit upon but the table, and no
provision for a fire except a hole in the
roof of the room above, which had once
contained the chimney of a stove.

To that upper room we now proceeded.
There were the eighteen bunks in a double
tier, nine on either hand, where from
eighteen to thirty-six miners had once
snored together all night long, John
Stanley, perhaps, snoring loudest. There
was the roof, with a hole in it through
which the sun now shot an arrow. There
was the floor, in much the same state as
the one below, though, perhaps, there was
more hay, and certainly there was the
added ingredient of broken glass, the man

118 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

who stole the window-frames having
apparently made a miscarriage with this
one. Without a broom, without hay or
bedding, we could but look about us with
a beginning of despair. The one bright
arrow of day, in that gaunt and shattered
barrack, made the rest look dirtier and
darker, and the sight drove us at last
into the open.

Here, also, the handiwork of man lay
ruined : but the plants were all alive and
thriving ; the view below was fresh with
the colours of nature ; and we had ex-
changed a dim, human garret for a corner,
even although it were untidy, of the blue
hall of heaven. Not a bird, not a beast,
not a reptile. There was no noise in
that part of the world, save when we
passed beside the staging, and heard the
water musically falling in the shaft.

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 119

We wandered to and fro. We searched
among that drift of lumber — wood and
iron, nails and rails, and sleepers and the
wheels of trucks. We gazed up the cleft
into the bosom of the mountain. We sat
by the margin of the dump and saw, far
below us, the green treetops standing
still in the clear air. Beautiful perfumes,
breaths of bay, resin, and nutmeg, came
to us more often and grew sweeter and
sharper as the afternoon declined. But
still there was no word of Hanson.

I set to with pick and shovel, and
deepened the pool behind the shaft, till
we were sure of sufficient water for the
morning ; and by the time I had finished,
the sun had begun to go down behind the
mountain shoulder, the platform was
plunged in quiet shadow, and a chill
descended from the sky. Night began

120 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

early in our cleft. Before us, over the
margin of the dump, we could see the sun
still striking aslant into the wooded nick
below, and on the battlemented, pine-
bescattered ridges on the farther side.

There was no stove, of course, and no
hearth in our lodging, so we betook our-
selves to the blacksmith's forge across the
platform. If the platform be taken as a
stage, and the out-curving margin of the
dump to represent the line of the foot-
lights, then our house would be the first
wing on the actor's left, and this black-
smith's forge, although no match for it in
size, the foremost on the right. It was a
low, brown cottage, planted close against
the hill, and overhung by the foliage and
peeling boughs of a madrona thicket.
Within it was full of dead leaves and
mountain dust, and rubbish from the

THE ACT OF SQUATTING. 121

mine. But we soon had a good fire
brightly blazing, and sat close about it on
impromptu seats. Chuchu, the slave of
sofa- cushions, whimpered for a softer bed;
but the rest of us were greatly revived and
comforted by that good creature — fire,
which gives us warmth and light and
companionable sounds, and colours up
the emptiest building with better than
frescoes. For a while it was even pleasant
in the forge, with the blaze in the midst,
and a look over our shoulders on the
woods and mountains where the day was
dying like a dolphin.

It was between seven and eight before
Hanson arrived, with a waggonful of our
effects and two of his wife's relatives to
lend him a hand. The elder showed sur-
prising strength. He would pick up a
huge packing-case, full of books of all

122 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

things, swing it on his shoulder, and
away up the two crazy ladders and the
breakneck spout of rolling mineral,
familiarly termed a path, that led from
the cart-track to our house. Even for
a man unburthened, the ascent was toil-
some and precarious ; but Irvine scaled it
with a light foot, carrying box after box,
as the hero whisks the stage child up the
practicable footway beside the waterfall of
the fifth act. With so strong a helper,
the business was speedily transacted.
Soon the assayer's office was thronged
with our belongings, piled higgledy-
piggledy, and upside down, about the
floor. There were our boxes, indeed, but
my wife had left her keys in Calistoga.
There was the stove, but, alas ! our carriers
had forgot the chimney, and lost one of
the plates along the road. The Silverado
problem was scarce solved.

TEE ACT OF SQUATTING. 123

Eufe himself was grave and good-
natured over his share of blame ; he even,
if I remember right, expressed regret.
But his crew, to my astonishment and
anger, grinned from ear to ear, and
laughed aloud at our distress. They
thought it " real funny" about the stove-
pipe they had forgotten; "real funny"
that they should have lost a plate. As
for hay, the whole party refused to bring
us any till they should have supped.
See how late they were ! Never had
there been such a job as coming up that
grade ! Nor often, I suspect, such a game
of poker as that before they started. But
about nine, as a particular favour, we
should have some hay.

So they took their departure, leaving
me still staring, and we resigned our-
selves to wait for their return. The fire

124 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

in the forge had been suffered to go out,
and we were one and all too weary to
kindle another. We dined, or, not to
take that word in vain, we ate after a
fashion, in the nightmare disorder of the
assayer's office, perched among boxes.
A single candle lighted us. It could
scarce be called a house-warming; for
there was, of course, no fire, and with
the two open doors and the open window
gaping on the night, like breaches in a
fortress, it began to grow rapidly chill.
Talk ceased ; nobody moved but the
unhappy Chuchu, still in quest of sofa-
cushions, who tumbled complainingly
among the trunks. It required a certain
happiness of disposition to look forward
hopefully, from so dismal a beginning,
across the brief hours of night, to the
warm shining of to-morrow's sun.

TEE ACT OF SQUATTING. 125

But the hay arrived at last, and we
turned, with our last spark of courage, to
the bedroom. We had improved the
entrance, but it was still a kind of rope-
walking ; and it would have been droll to
see us mounting, one after another, by
candle-light, under the open stars.

The western door — that which looked
up the canyon, and through which we
entered by our bridge of flying plank — was
still entire, a handsome, panelled door,
the most finished piece of carpentry in
Silverado. And the two lowest bunks
next to this we roughly filled with hay
for that night's use. Through the oppo-
site, or eastern-looking gable, with its
open door and window, a faint, diffused
starshine came into the room like mist ;
and when we were once in bed, we lay,
awaiting sleep, in a haunted, incomplete

126 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTER S.

obscurity. At first the silence of the
night was utter. Then a high wind
began in the distance among the tree-
tops, and for hours continued to grow
higher. It seemed to me much such a
wind as we had found on our visit ; yet
here in our open chamber we were fanned
only by gentle and refreshing draughts, so
deep was the canyon, so close our house
was planted under the overhanging rock.

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY.

THE HUNTER'S -FAMILY.

THEEE is quite a large race or class of
people in America, for whom we scarcely
seem to have a parallel in England. Of
pure white blood, they are unknown or
unrecognizable in towns ; inhabit the
fringe of settlements and the deep, quiet
places of the country; rebellious to all
labour, and pettily thievish, like the
English gipsies ; rustically ignorant, but
with a touch of wood-lore and the
dexterity of the savage. Whence they
came is a moot point. At the time of
the war, they poured north in crowds
to escape the conscription ; lived during

130 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

summer on fruits, wild animals, and petty
theft ; and at the approach of winter,
when these supplies failed, built great
fires in the forest, and there died stoically
by starvation. They are widely scattered,
however, and easily recognized. Loutish,
but not ill-looking, they will sit all day,
swinging their legs on a field fence, the
mind seemingly as devoid of all reflection
as a Suffolk peasant's, careless of politics,
for the most part incapable of reading,
but with a rebellious vanity and a strong
sense of independence. Hunting is their
most congenial business, or, if the occa-
sion offers, a little amateur detection. In
tracking a criminal, following a particular
horse along a beaten highway, and draw-
ing inductions from a hair or a footprint,
one of those somnolent, grinning Hodges
will suddenly display activity of body and

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 131

finesse of mind. By their names ye
may know them, the women figuring
as Loveina, Larsenia, Serena, Leanna,
Orreana; the men answering to Alvin,
Alva, or Orion, pronounced Orrion, with
the accent on the first. Whether they
are indeed a race, or whether this is the
form of degeneracy common to all back-
woodsmen, they are at least known by
a generic byword, as Poor Whites or
Low-downers.

I will not say that the Hanson family
was Poor White, because the name savours
of offence ; but I may go as far as this
— they were, in many points, not un-
similar to the people usually so-called.
Bufe himself combined two of the quali-
fications, for he was both a hunter and
an amateur detective. It was he who
pursued Kussel and Dollar, the robbers

132 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

of the Lake Port stage, and captured
them the very morning after the exploit,
while they were still sleeping in a hay-
field. Russel, a drunken Scotch car-
penter, was even an acquaintance of his
own, and he expressed much grave com-
miseration for his fate. In all that he
said and did, Eufe was grave. I never
saw him hurried. When he spoke, he
took out his pipe with ceremonial de-
liberation, looked east and west, and
then, in quiet tones and few words, stated
his business or told his story. His gait
was to match ; it would never have sur-
prised you if, at any step, he had turned
round and walked away again, so warily
and slowly, and with so much seeming
hesitation did he go about. He lay long
in bed in the morning — rarely indeed,
rose before noon ; he loved all games,

TEE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 133

from poker to clerical croquet ; and in
the Toll House croquet ground I have
seen him toiling at the latter with the
devotion of a curate. He took an interest
in education, was an active member of
the local school-board, and when I was
there, he had recently lost the school-
house key. His waggon was broken, but
it never seemed to occur to him to mend
it. Like all truly idle people, he had an
artistic eye. He chose the print stuff for
his wife's dresses, and counselled her in
the making of a patchwork quilt, always,
as she thought, wrongly, but to the more
educated eye, always with bizarre and
admirable taste — the taste of an Indian.
With all this, he was a perfect, unoffend-
ing gentleman in word and act. Take
his clay pipe from him, and he was fit
for any society but that of fools. Quiet

134 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

as he was, there burned a deep, permanent
excitement in his dark blue eyes ; and
when this grave man smiled, it was like
sunshine in a shady place.

Mrs. Hanson (nee, if you please, Love-
lands) was more commonplace than her
lord. She was a comely woman, too,
plump, fair-coloured, with wonderful white
teeth ; and in her print dresses (chosen
by Eufe) and with a large sun-bonnet
shading her valued complexion, made, I
assure you, a very agreeable figure. But
she was on the surface, what there was
of her, out-spoken and loud-spoken. Her
noisy laughter had none of the charm
of one of Hanson's rare, slow-spreading
smiles ; there was no reticence, no
mystery, no manner about the woman :
she was a first-class dairymaid, but her
husband was an unknown quantity

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 135

between the savage and the nohleman.
She was often in and out with us, merry,
and healthy, and fair ; he came far
seldomer — only, indeed, when there was
business, or now and again, to pay a visit
of ceremony, brushed up for the occasion,
with his wife on his arm, and a clean
clay pipe in his teeth. These visits, in
our forest state, had quite the air of an
event, and turned our red canyon into a
salon.

Such was the pair who ruled in the
old Silverado Hotel, among the windy
trees, on the mountain shoulder overlook-
ing the whole length of Napa Valley, as
the man aloft looks down on the ship's
deck. There they kept house, with
sundry horses and fowls, and a family of
sons, Daniel Webster, and I think George
Washington, among the number. Nor

136 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

did they want visitors. An old gentle-
man, of singular stolidity, and called
Breedlove — I think he had crossed the
plains in the same caravan with Rufe—
housed with them for awhile during our
stay; and they had besides a permanent
lodger, in the form of Mrs. Hanson's
brother, Irvine Lovelands. I spell Irvine
by guess ; for I could get no information
on the subject, just as I could never find
out, in spite of many inquiries, whether
or not Rufe was a contraction for Eufus.
They were all cheerfully at sea about
their names in that generation. And this
is surely the more notable where the
names are all so strange, and even the
family names appear to have been coined.
At one time, at least, the ancestors of all
these Alvins and Alvas, Loveinas, Love-
lands, and Breedloves, must have taken

TEE HUN TEE'S FAMILY. 137

serious council and found a certain poetry
in these denominations ; that must have
been, then, their form of literature. But
still times change ; and their next
descendants, the George Washingtons
and Daniel Websters, will at least be
clear upon the point. And anyway, and
however his name should be spelt, this
Irvine Lovelands was the most unmiti-
gated Caliban I ever knew.

Our very first morning at Silverado,
when we were full of business, patching
up doors and windows, making beds and
seats, and getting our rough lodging into
shape, Irvine and his sister made their
appearance together, she for neighbour-
liness and general curiosity ; he, because
he was working for me, to my sorrow,
cutting firewood at I forget how much a
day. The way that he set about cutting

138 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

wood was characteristic. We were at
that moment patching up and unpacking
in the kitchen. Down he sat on one
side, and down sat his sister on the other.
Both were chewing pine-tree gum, and
he, to my annoyance, accompanied that
simple pleasure with profuse expectora-
tion. She rattled away, talking up hill
and down dale, laughing, tossing her
head, showing her brilliant teeth. He
looked on in silence, now spitting heavily
on the floor, now putting his head back
and uttering a loud, discordant, joyless
laugh. He had a tangle of shock hair,
the colour of wool ; his mouth was a grin ;
although as strong as a horse, he looked
neither heavy nor yet adroit, only leggy,
coltish, and in the road. But it was
plain he was in high spirits, thoroughly
enjoying his visit ; and he laughed frankly

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 139

whenever we failed to accomplish what
we were about. This was scarcely help-
ful : it was even, to amateur carpenters,
embarrassing ; but it lasted until we
knocked off work and began to get
dinner. Then Mrs. Hanson remembered
she should have been gone an hour ago ;
and the pair retired, and the lady's
laughter died away among the nutmegs
down the path. That was Irvine's first
day's work in my employment — the devil
take him !

The next morning he returned and, as
he was this time alone, he bestowed his
conversation upon us with great liberality.
He prided himself on his intelligence ;
asked us if we knew the school ma'am.
He didn't think much of her, anyway.
He had tried her, he had. He had put
a question to her. If a tree a hundred

140 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

feet high were to fall a foot a day, how
long would it take to fall right down ?
She had not been ahle to solve the
problem. " She don't know nothing," he
opined. He told us how a friend of his
kept a school with a revolver, and
chuckled mightily over that ; his friend
could teach school, he could. All the
time he kept chewing gum and spitting.
He would stand a while looking down ;
and then he would toss back his shock
of hair, and laugh hoarsely, and spit, and
bring forward a new subject. A man, he
told us, who bore a grudge against him,
had poisoned his dog. " That was a low
thing for a man to do now, wasn't it ?
It wasn't like a man, that, nohow. But
I got even with him : I pisoned his dog."
clumsy utterance, his rude em-
barrassed manner, set a fresh value on

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 141

the stupidity of his remarks. I do not
think I ever appreciated the meaning of
two words until I knew Irvine — the verb,
loaf, and the noun, oaf; between them,
they complete his portrait. He could
lounge, and wriggle, and rub himself
against the wall, and grin, and be more
in everybody's way than any other two
people that I ever set my eyes on.
Nothing that he did became him ; and
yet you were conscious that he was one
of your own race, that his mind was cum-
brously at work, revolving the problem
of existence like a quid of gum, and in
his own cloudy manner enjoying life, and
passing judgment on his fellows. Above
all things, he was delighted with himself.
You would not have thought it, from his
uneasy manners and troubled, struggling
utterance ; but he loved himself to the

142 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

marrow, and was happy and proud like
a peacock on a rail.

His self-esteem was, indeed, the one
joint in his harness. He could be got to
work, and even kept at work, by flattery.
As long as my wife stood over him,
crying out how strong he was, so long
exactly he would stick to the matter in
hand ; and the moment she turned her
back, or ceased to praise him, he would
stop. His physical strength was wonder-
ful ; and to have a woman stand by and
admire his achievements, warmed his
heart like sunshine. Yet he was as
cowardly as he was powerful, and felt no
shame in owning to the weakness. Some-
thing was once wanted from the crazy
platform over the shaft, and he at once
refused to venture there — " did not like,"
as he said, "foolen' round them kind o'

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 143

places," and let my wife go instead of
him, looking on with a grin. Vanity,
where it rules, is usually more heroic :
but Irvine steadily approved himself, and
expected others to approve him ; rather
looked down upon my wife, and decidedly
expected her to look up to him, on the
strength of his superior prudence.

Yet the strangest part of the whole
matter was perhaps this, that Irvine was
as beautiful as a statue. His features
were, in themselves, perfect ; it was only
his cloudy, uncouth, and coarse expression
that disfigured them. So much strength
residing in so spare a frame was proof
sufficient of the accuracy of his shape.
He must have been builfc somewhat after
the pattern of Jack Sheppard ; but the
famous housebreaker, we may be certain,
was no lout. It was by the extraordinary

144 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

powers of his mind no less than by the
vigour of his body, that he broke his
strong prison with such imperfect imple-
ments, turning the very obstacles to
service. Irvine, in the same case, would
have sat down and spat, and grumbled
curses. He had the soul of a fat sheep,
but, regarded as an artist's model, the
exterior of a Greek God. It was a cruel
thought to persons less favoured in their
birth, that this creature, endowed — to use
the language of theatres — with extra-
ordinary " means," should so manage to
misemploy them that he looked ugly and
almost deformed. It was only by an
effort of abstraction, and after many days,
that you discovered what he was.

By playing on the oaf's conceit, and
standing closely over him, we got a path
made round the corner of the dump to

TEE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 145

our door, so that we could come and go
with decent ease ; and he even enjoyed
the work, for in that there were boulders
to be plucked up bodily, bushes to be up-
rooted, and other occasions for athletic
display : but cutting wood was a different
matter. Anybody could cut wood ; and,
besides, my wife was tired of super-
vising him, and had other things to
attend to. And, in short, days went by,
and Irvine came daily, and talked and
lounged and spat ; but the firewood re-
mained intact as sleepers on the platform
or growing trees upon the mountain-
side. Irvine, as a woodcutter, we could
tolerate ; but Irvine as a friend of the
family, at so much a day, was too bald
an imposition, and at length, on the
afternoon of the fourth or fifth day of
our connection, I explained to him, as

146 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

clearly as I could, the light in which
I had grown to regard his presence. I
pointed out to him that I could not con-
tinue to give him a salary for spitting on
the floor ; and this expression, which
came after a good many others, at last
penetrated his ohdurate wits. He rose
at once, and said if that was the way he
was going to be spoke to, he reckoned
he would quit. And, no one interposing,
he departed.

So far, so good. But we had no fire-
wood. The next afternoon, I strolled
down to Eufe's and consulted him on the
subject. It was a very droll interview,
in the large, bare north room of the
Silverado Hotel, Mrs. Hanson's patch-
work on a frame, and Eufe, and his wife,
and I, and the oaf himself, all more or
less embarrassed. Eufe announced there

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 147

was nobody in the neighbourhood but
Irvine who could do a day's work for
anybody. Irvine, thereupon, refused to
have any more to do with my service;
he " wouldn't work no more for a man as
had spoke to him 's I had done." I found
myself on the point of the last humilia-
tion— driven to beseech the creature
whom I had just dismissed with insult :
but I took the high hand in despair, said
there must be no talk of Irvine coming
back unless matters were to be differently
managed ; that I would rather chop fire-
wood for myself than be fooled; and, in
short, the Hansons being eager for the
lad's hire, I so imposed upon them with
merely affected resolution, that they
ended by begging me to re-employ him
again, on a solemn promise that he
should be more industrious. The promise,

148 THE SILVERADO SQUATTEES.

I am bound to say, was kept. We soon
had a fine pile of firewood at our door ; and
if Caliban gave me the cold shoulder and
spared me his conversation, I thought none
the worse of him for that, nor did I find
my days much longer for the deprivation.
The leading spirit of the family was,
I am inclined to fancy, Mrs. Hanson.
Her social brilliancy somewhat dazzled
the others, and she had more of the small
change of sense. It was she who faced
Kelmar, for instance ; and perhaps, if
she had been alone, Kelmar would have
had no rule within her doors. Bufe, to
be sure, had a fine, sober, open-air
attitude of mind, seeing the world with-
out exaggeration — perhaps, we may even
say, without enough ; for he lacked,
along with the others, that commercial
idealism which puts so high a value on

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 149

time and money. Sanity itself is a kind
of convention. Perhaps Eufe was wrong ;
but, looking on life plainly, he was unable
to perceive that croquet or poker were in
anyway less important than, for instance,
mending his waggon. Even his own
profession, hunting, was dear to him
mainly as a sort of play ; even that he
would have neglected, had it not ap-
pealed to his imagination. His hunting-
suit, for instance, had cost I should be
afraid to say how many bucks — the
currency in which he paid his way: it
was all befringed, after the Indian fashion,
and it was dear to his heart. The
pictorial side of his daily business was
never forgotten. He was even anxious to
stand for his picture in those buckskin
hunting clothes ; and I remember how
he once warmed almost into enthusiasm,

150 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

his dark blue eyes growing perceptibly
larger, as he planned tbe composition in
which he should appear, " with the horns
of some real big bucks, and dogs, and a
camp on a crick " (creek, stream).

There was no trace in Irvine of this
woodland poetry. He did not care for
hunting, nor yet for buckskin suits. He
had never observed scenery. The world,
as it appeared to him, was almost oblite-
rated by his own great grinning figure in
the foreground: Caliban Malvolio. And
it seems to me as if, in the persons of
these brothers-in-law, we had the two
sides of rusticity fairly well represented :
the hunter living really in nature ; the
clodhopper living merely out of society :
the one bent up in every corporal agent
to capacity in one pursuit, doing at least
one thing keenly and thoughtfully, and

THE HUNTER'S FAMILY. 151

thoroughly alive to all that touches it;
the other in the inert and bestial state,
walking in a faint dream, and taking so
dim an impression of the myriad sides of
life that he is truly conscious of nothing
but himself. It is only in the fastnesses
of nature, forests, mountains, and the
back of man's beyond, that a creature
endowed with five senses can grow up
into the perfection of this crass and
earthy vanity. In towns or the busier
country sides, he is roughly reminded of
other men's existence ; and if he learns
no more, he learns at least to fear
contempt. But Irvine had come scathe-
less through life, conscious only of him-
self, of his great strength and intelligence ;
and in the silence of the universe, to
which he did not listen, dwelling with
delight on the sound of his own thoughts.

THE SEA FOGS.

THE SEA FOGS.

A CHANGE in the colour of the light usually
called me in the morning. By a certain
hour, the long, vertical chinks in our
western gable, where the boards had
shrunk and separated, flashed suddenly
into my eyes as stripes of dazzling blue,
at once so dark and splendid that I
used to marvel how the qualities could
be combined. At an earlier hour, the
heavens in that quarter were still quietly
coloured, but the shoulder of the moun-
tain which shuts in the canyon already
glowed with sunlight in a wonderful
compound of gold and rose and green;
and this too would kindle, although more

156 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

mildly and with rainbow tints, the fissures
of our crazy gable. If I were sleeping
heavily, it was the bold blue that struck
me awake ; if more lightly, then I would
come to myself in that earlier and fairier
light.

One Sunday morning, about five, the
first brightness called me. I rose and
turned to the east, not for my devotions,
but for air. The night had been very
still. The little private gale that blew
every evening in our canyon, for ten
minutes or perhaps a quarter of an hour,
had swiftly blown itself out ; in the hours
that followed not a sigh of wind had
shaken the treetops ; and our barrack,
for all its breaches, was less fresh that
morning than of wont. But I had no
sooner reached the window than I forgot
all else in the sight that met my eyes,

THE SEA FOGS. 157

and I made but two bounds into my
clothes, and down the crazy plank to the
platform.

The sun was still concealed below the
opposite hilltops, though it was shining
already, not twenty feet above my head,
on our own mountain slope. But the
scene, beyond a few near features, was
entirely changed. Napa valley was gone ;
gone were all the lower slopes and woody
foothills of the range ; and in their place,
not a thousand feet below me, rolled a
great level ocean. It was as though I
had gone to bed the night before, safe
in a nook of inland mountains, and had
awakened in a bay upon the coast. I
had seen these inundations from below;
at Calistoga I had risen and gone abroad
in the early morning, coughing and
sneezing, under fathoms on fathoms of

158 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTER S.

gray sea vapour, like a cloudy sky — a
dull sight for the artist, and a painful
experience for the invalid. But to sit
aloft one's self in the pure air and under
the unclouded dome of heaven, and thus
look down on the submergence of the
valley, was strangely different and even
delightful to the eyes. Far away were
hilltops like little islands. Nearer, a
smoky surf beat about the foot of
precipices and poured into all the coves
of these rough mountains. The colour
of that fog ocean was a thing never to
be forgotten. For an instant, among the
Hebrides and just about sundown, I have
seen something like it on the sea itself.
But the white was not so opaline ; nor
was there, what surprisingly increased
the effect, that breathless, crystal still-
ness over all. Even in its gentlest moods

THE SEA FOGS. 159

the salt sea travails, moaning among the
weeds or lisping on the sand; but that
vast fog ocean lay in a trance of silence,
nor did the sweet air of the morning
tremble with a sound.

As I continued to sit upon the dump,
I began to observe that this sea was not
so level as at first sight it appeared to
be. Away in the extreme south, a little
hill of fog arose against the sky above
the general surface, and as it had already
caught the sun, it shone on the horizon
like the topsails of some giant ship.
There were huge waves, stationary, as it
seemed, like waves in a frozen sea ; and
yet, as I looked again, I was not sure
but they were moving after all, with a
slow and august advance. And while I
was yet doubting, a promontory of the
hills some four or five miles away, con-

160 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

spicuous by a bouquet of tall pines, was
in a single instant overtaken and swal-
lowed up. It reappeared in a little,
with its pines, but this time as an islet,
and only to be swallowed up once more
and then for good. This set me looking
nearer, and I saw that in every cove
along the line of mountains the fog was
being piled in higher and higher, as
though by some wind that was inaudible
to me. I could trace its progress, one
pine tree first growing hazy and then
disappearing after another ; although
sometimes there was none of this fore-
running haze, but the whole opaque
white ocean gave a start and swallowed
a piece of mountain at a gulp. It was
to flee these poisonous fogs that I
had left the seaboard, and climbed so
high among the mountains. And now,

TEE SEA FOGS. 161

behold, here came the fog to besiege me
in my chosen altitudes, and yet came so
beautifully that my first thought was of
welcome.

The sun had now gotten much higher,
and through all the gaps of the hills it
cast long bars of gold across that white
ocean. An eagle, or some other very
great bird of the mountain, came wheeling
over the nearer pine-tops, and hung,
poised and something sideways, as if to
look abroad on that unwonted desolation,
spying, perhaps with terror, for the eyries
of her comrades. Then, with a long cry,
she disappeared again towards Lake
County and the clearer air. At length it
seemed to me as if the flood were
beginning to subside. The old landmarks,
by whose disappearance I had measured
its advance, here a crag, there a brave

162 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

pine tree, now began, in the inverse order,
to make their reappearance into daylight.
I judged all danger of the fog was over.
This was not Noah's flood ; it was but a
morning spring, and would now drift out
seaward whence it came. So, mightily
relieved, and a good deal exhilarated by
the sight, I went into the house to light
the fire.

I suppose it was nearly seven when I
once more mounted the platform to look
abroad. The fog ocean had swelled up
enormously since last I saw it ; and a few
hundred feet below me, in the deep gap
where the Toll House stands and the road
runs through into Lake County, it had
already topped the slope, and was pouring
over and down the other side like driving
smoke. The wind had climbed along
with it ; and though I was still in calm

THE SEA FOGS. 163

air, I could see the trees tossing below
me, and their long, strident sighing
mounted to me where I stood.

Half an hour later, the fog had sur-
mounted all the ridge on the opposite
side of the gap, though a shoulder of
the mountain still warded it out of our
canyon. Napa valley and its hounding
hills were now utterly blotted out. The
fog, sunny white in the sunshine, was
pouring over into Lake County in a huge,
ragged cataract, tossing treetops appear-
ing and disappearing in the spray. The
air struck with a little chill, and set me
coughing. It smelt strong of the fog,
like the smell of a washing-house, but
with a shrewd tang of the sea salt.

Had it not been for two things — the
sheltering spur which answered as a dyke,
and the great valley on the other side

164 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

which rapidly engulfed whatever mounted
— our own little platform in the canyon
must have been already buried a hundred
feet in salt and poisonous air. As it was,
the interest of the scene entirely occupied
our minds. We were set just out of the
wind, and but just above the fog ; we
could listen to the voice of the one as to
music on the stage ; we could plunge our
eyes down into the other, as into some
flowing stream from over the parapet of a
bridge ; thus we looked on upon a strange,
impetuous, silent, shifting exhibition of
the powers of nature, and saw the familiar
landscape changing from moment to
moment like figures in a dream.

The imagination loves to trifle with
what is not. Had this been indeed the
deluge, I should have felt more strongly,
but the emotion would have been similar

THE SEA FOGS. 165

in kind. I played with the idea, as the
child flees in delighted terror from the
creations of his fancy. The look of
the thing helped me. And when at last
I began to flee up the mountain, it was
indeed partly to escape from the raw air
that kept me coughing, but it was also
part in play.

As I ascended the mountain-side, I
came once more to overlook the upper
surface of the fog ; but it wore a different
appearance from what I had beheld at
daybreak. For, first, the sun now fell on
it from high overhead, and its surface
shone and undulated like a great norland
moor country, sheeted with untrodden
morning snow. And next the new level
must have been a thousand or fifteen
hundred feet higher than the old, so that
only five or six points of all the broken

166 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

country below me, still stood out. Napa
valley was now one with Sonoma on the
west. On the hither side, only a thin
scattered fringe of bluffs was unsub-
merged ; and through all the gaps the fog
was pouring over, like an ocean, into the
blue clear sunny country on the east.
There it was soon lost; for it fell instantly
into the bottom of the valleys, following
the water-shed ; and the hilltops in that
quarter were still clear cut upon the
eastern sky.

Through the Toll House gap and over
the near ridges on the other side, the
deluge was immense. A spray of thin
vapour was thrown high above it, rising
and falling, and blown into fantastic
shapes. The speed of its course was like
a mountain torrent. Here and there a
few treetops were discovered and then

THE SEA FOGS. 167

whelmed again ; and for one second, the
bough of a dead pine beckoned out of the
spray like the arm of a drowning man.
But still the imagination was dissatisfied,
still the ear waited for something more.
Had this indeed been water (as it seemed
so, to the eye), with what a plunge of
reverberating thunder would it have rolled
upon its course, disembowelling mountains
and deracinating pines ! And yet water
it was, and sea-water at that — true Pacific
billows, only somewhat rarefied, rolling
in mid air among the hilltops.

I climbed still higher, among the red
rattling gravel and dwarf underwood of
Mount Saint Helena, until I could look
right down upon Silverado, and admire
the favoured nook in which it lay. The
sunny plain of fog was several hundred
feet higher ; behind the protecting spur a

168 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

gigantic accumulation of cottony vapour
threatened, with every second, to blow
over and submerge our homestead; but
the vortex setting past the Toll House
was too strong ; and there lay our little
platform, in the arms of the deluge, but
still enjoying its unbroken sunshine.
About eleven, however, thin spray came
flying over the friendly buttress, and I
began to think the fog had hunted out its
Jonah after all. But it was the last
effort. The wind veered while we were
at dinner, and began to blow squally from
the mountain summit ; and by half-past
one, all that world of sea-fogs was utterly
routed and flying here and there into the
south in little rags of cloud. And instead
of a lone sea-beach, we found ourselves
once more inhabiting a high mountain-
side, with the clear green country far

THE SEA FOOS. 169

below us, and the light smoke of Calistoga
blowing in the air.

This was the great Kussian campaign
for that season. Now and then, in the
early morning, a little white lakelet of fog
would be seen far down in Napa Valley ;
but the heights were not again assailed,
nor was the surrounding world again shut
off from Silverado.

THE TOLL HOUSE.

THE TOLL HOUSE.

THE Toll House, standing alone by the
wayside under nodding pines, with its
streamlet and water-tank ; its backwoods,
toll-bar, and well trodden croquet ground ;
the ostler standing by the stable door,
chewing a straw ; a glimpse of the Chinese
cook in the back parts ; and Mr. Hoddy
in the bar, gravely alert and serviceable,
and equally anxious to lend or borrow
books ; — dozed all day in the dusty sun-
shine, more than half asleep. There were
no neighbours, except the Hansons up
the hill. The traffic on the road was
infinitesimal ; only, at rare intervals, a
couple in a waggon, or a dusty farmer on

174 TEE SILVER ADO SQUATTERS.

a spring-board, toiling over "the grade "
to that metropolitan hamlet, Calistoga ;
and, at the fixed hours, the passage of the
stages.

The nearest building was the school-
house, down the road ; and the school-
ma'am boarded at the Toll House, walk-
ing thence in the morning to the little
brown shanty, where she taught the
young ones of the district, and returning
thither pretty weary in the afternoon.
She had chosen this outlying situation, I
understood, for her health. Mr. Corwin
was consumptive ; so was Eufe ; so was
Mr. Jennings, the engineer. In short,
the place was a kind of small Davos :
consumptive folk consorting on a hilltop
in the most unbroken idleness. Jennings
never did anything that I could see,
except now and then to fish, and generally

THE TOLL HOUSE. 175

to sit about in the bar and the verandah,
waiting for something to happen. Corwin
and Rufe did as little as possible ; and if
the school-ma'am, poor lady, had to work
pretty hard all morning, she subsided
when it was over into much the same
dazed beatitude as all the rest.

Her special corner was the parlour — a
very genteel room, with Bible prints, a
crayon portrait of Mrs. Corwin in the
height of fashion, a few years ago, another
of her son (Mr. Corwin was not repre-
sented), a mirror, and a selection of
dried grasses. A large book was laid
religiously on the table — " From Palace
to Hovel," I believe, its name — full of the
raciest experiences in England. The
author had mingled freely with all classes,
the nobility particularly meeting him
with open arms ; and I must say that

176 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

traveller had ill requited his reception.
His book, in short, was a capital instance
of the Penny Messalina school of litera-
ture ; and there arose from it, in that
cool parlour, in that silent, wayside,
mountain inn, a rank atmosphere of gold
and blood and " Jenkins," and the " Mys-
teries of London," and sickening, inverted
snobbery, fit to knock you down. The
mention of this book reminds me of
another and far racier picture of our
island life. The latter parts of Rocam-
bole are surely too sparingly consulted in
the country which they celebrate. No
man's education can be said to be com-
plete, nor can he pronounce the world
yet emptied of enjoyment, till he has
made the acquaintance of " the Reverend
Patterson, director of the Evangelical
Society." To follow the evolutions of

TEE TOLL HOUSE. 177

that reverend gentleman, who goes
through scenes in which even Mr. Duf-
field would hesitate to place a bishop, is
to rise to new ideas. But, alas ! there
was no Patterson about the Toll House.
Only, alongside of " From Palace to
Hovel," a sixpenny "Ouida" figured.
So literature, you see, was not unrepre-
sented.

The school-ma'am had friends to stay
with her, other school-ma'ams enjoying
their holidays, quite a bevy of damsels.
They seemed naver to go out, or not
beyond the verandah, but sat close in the
little parlour, quietly talking or listening
to the wind among the trees. Sleep
dwelt in the Toll House, like a fixture :
summer sleep, shallow, soft, and dream-
less. A cuckoo-clock, a great rarity in
such a place, hooted at intervals about the

178 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

echoing house ; and Mr. Jenning would
open his eyes for a moment in the bar,
and turn the leaf of a newspaper, and the
resting school-ma'ams in the parlour
would be recalled to the consciousness of
their inaction. Busy Mrs. Corwin and
her busy Chinaman might be heard
indeed, in the penetralia, pounding dough
or rattling dishes; or perhaps Eufe had
called up some of the sleepers for a game
of croquet, and the hollow strokes of the
mallet sounded far away among the
woods : but with these exceptions, it was
sleep and sunshine and dust, and the
wind in the pine trees, all day long.

A little before stage time, that castle
of indolence awoke. The ostler threw
his straw away and set to his prepara-
tions. Mr. Jennings rubbed his eyes;
happy Mr. Jennings, the something he

TEE TOLL HOUSE. 179

had been waiting for all day about to
happen at last ! The boarders gathered
in the verandah, silently giving ear, and
gazing down the road with shaded eyes.
And as yet there was no sign for the
senses, not a sound, not a tremor of the
mountain road. The birds, to whom
the secret of the hooting cuckoo is un-
known, must have set down to instinct
this premonitory bustle.

And then the first of the two stages
swooped upon the Toll House with a
roar and in a cloud of dust; and the
shock had not yet time to subside, before
the second was abreast of it. Huge con-
cerns they were, well-horsed and loaded,
the men in their shirt-sleeves, the women
swathed in veils, the long whip cracking
like a pistol; and as they charged upon
that slumbering hostelry, each shepherd-

180 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

ing a dust storm, the dead place blossomed

into life and talk and clatter. This the

Toll House ? — with its city throng, its

jostling shoulders, its infinity of instant

business in the bar ? The mind would

not receive it ! The heartfelt bustle of

that hour is hardly credible ; the thrill

of the great shower of letters from the

post-bag, the childish hope and interest

with which one gazed in all these

strangers' eyes. They paused there but

to pass : the blue-clad China-boy, the San

Francisco magnate, the mystery in the

dust coat, the secret memoirs in tweed,

the ogling, well-shod lady with her troop

of girls ; they did but flash and go ;

they were hull- down for us behind life's

ocean, and we but hailed their topsails

on the line. Yet, out of our great solitude

of four and twenty mountain hours, we

THE TOLL HOUSE. 181

thrilled to their momentary presence ;
gauged and divined them, loved and
hated; and stood light-headed in that
storm of human electricity. Yes, like
Piccadilly Circus, this is also one of life's
crossing-places. Here I beheld one man,
already famous or infamous, a centre of
pistol-shots : and another who, if not yet
known to rumour, will fill a column of
the Sunday paper when he comes to
hang — a burly, thick-set, powerful Chinese
desperado, six long bristles upon either
lip; redolent of whiskey, playing cards,
and pistols ; swaggering in the bar with
the lowest assumption of the lowest
European manners ; rapping out black-
guard English oaths in his canorous
oriental voice; and combining in one
person the depravities of two races and two
civilizations. For all his lust and vigour,

182 THE SILVERADO SQUATTER S.

he seemed to look cold upon me from
the valley of the shadow of the gallows.
He imagined a vain thing ; and while he
drained his cock-tail, Holbein's death was
at his elbow. Once, too, I fell in talk
with another of these flitting strangers-
like the rest, in his shirt-sleeves and all
begrimed with dust — and the next minute
we were discussing Paris and London,
theatres and wines. To him, journeying
from one human place to another, this
was a trifle ; but to me ! No, Mr. Lillie,
I have not forgotten it.

And presently the city-tide was at its
flood and began to ebb. Life runs in
Piccadilly Circus, say, from nine to one,
and then, there also, ebbs into the small
hours of the echoing policeman and the
lamps and stars. But the Toll House is
far up stream, and near its rural springs ;

THE TOLL HOUSE. 183

the bubble of the tide but touches it.
Before you had yet grasped your pleasure,
the horses were put to, the loud whips
volleyed, and the tide was gone. North
and south had the two stages vanished,
the towering dust subsided in the woods ;
but there was still an interval before the
flush had fallen on your cheeks, before
the ear became once more contented with
the silence, or the seven sleepers of the
Toll House dozed back to their accustomed
corners. Yet a little, and the ostler
would swing round the great barrier
across the road ; and in the golden even-
ing, that dreamy inn begin to trim its
lamps and spread the board for supper.

As I recall the place — the green dell
below ; the spires of pine ; the sun-warm,
scented air ; that gray, gabled inn, with
its faint stirrings of life amid the slumber

184 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

of the mountains — I slowly awake to a
sense of admiration, gratitude, and almost
love. A fine place, after all, for a wasted
life to doze away in — the cuckoo clock
hooting of its far home country ; the
croquet mallets, eloquent of English
lawns ; the stages daily bringing news of
the turbulent world away below there ;
and perhaps once in the summer, a salt
fog pouring overhead with its tale of the
Pacific.

A STARRY DRIVE.

A STARRY DRIVE.

IN our rule at Silverado, there was a
melancholy interregnum. The queen and
the crown prince with one accord fell
sick; and, as I was sick to begin with,
our lone position on Mount Saint Helena
was no longer tenable, and we had to
hurry back to Calistoga and a cottage
on the green. By that time we had
begun to realize the difficulties of our
position. We had found what an amount
of labour it cost to support life in our
red canyon ; and it was the dearest desire
of our hearts to get a China-boy to go
along with us when we returned. We
could have given him a whole house to

188 TEE S1LVEEADO SQUATTERS.

himself, self-contained, as they say in the
advertisements ; and on the money ques-
tion we were prepared to go far. Kong
Sam Kee, the Calistoga washerman, was
entrusted with the affair ; and from day
to day it languished on, with protesta-
tions on our part and mellifluous excuses
on the part of Kong Sam Kee.

At length, ah out half-past eight of our
last evening, with the waggon ready
harnessed to convey us up the grade,
the washerman, with a somewhat sneer-
ing air, produced the boy. He was a
handsome, gentlemanly lad, attired in
rich dark blue, and shod with snowy
white ; but, alas ! he had heard rumours
of Silverado. He knew it for a lone
place on the mountain-side, with no
friendly wash-house near by, where he
might smoke a pipe of opium o' nights

A STARRY DEIVE. 189

with other China-boys, and lose his little
earnings at the game of tan ; and he first
backed out for more money; and then,
when that demand was satisfied, refused
to come point-blank. He was wedded to
his wash-houses ; he had no taste for the
rural life ; and we must go to our moun-
tain servantless. It must have been
near half an hour before we reached that
conclusion, standing in the midst of
Calistoga high street under the stars,
and the China-boy and Kong Sam Kee
singing their pigeon English in the
sweetest voices and with the most
musical inflections.

We were not, however, to return alone ;
for we brought with us Joe Strong, the
painter, a most good-natured comrade
and a capital hand at an omelette. I
do not know in which capacity he was

190 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

most valued — as a cook or a companion ;
and lie did excellently well in both.

The Kong Sam Kee negociation had
delayed us unduly; it must have been
half-past nine before we left Calistoga,
and night came fully ere we struck the
bottom of the grade. I have never seen
such a night. It seemed to throw
calumny in the teeth of all the painters
that ever dabbled in starlight. The sky
itself was of a ruddy, powerful, nameless,
changing colour, dark and glossy like a
serpent's back. The stars, by innumer-
able millions, stuck boldly forth like
lamps. The milky way was bright, like
a moonlit cloud ; half heaven seemed
milky way. The greater luminaries
shone each more clearly than a winter's
moon. Their light was dyed in every sort
of colour — red, like fire ; blue, like steel ;

A STARRY DBIVE. 191

green, like the tracks of sunset ; and so
sharply did each stand forth in its own
lustre that there was no appearance of
that flat, star-spangled arch we know so
well in pictures, but all the hollow of
heaven was one chaos of contesting
luminaries — a hurly-burly of stars.
Against this the hills and rugged tree-
tops stood out redly dark.

As we continued to advance, the lesser
lights and milky ways first grew pale, and
then vanished ; the countless hosfcs of
heaven dwindled in number by successive
millions ; those that still shone had
tempered their exceeding brightness and
fallen back into their customary wistful
distance ; and the sky declined from its
first bewildering splendour into the ap-
pearance of a common night. Slowly
this change proceeded, and still there was

192 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

no sign of any cause. Then a whiteness
like mist was thrown over the spurs of
the mountain. Yet a while, and, as we
turned a corner, a great leap of silver
light and net of forest shadows fell across
the road and upon our wondering waggon-
ful ; and, swimming low among the trees,
we beheld a strange, misshapen, waning
moon, half-tilted on her back.

" Where are ye when the moon ap-
pears?" so the old poet sang, half-
taunting, to the stars, bent upon a
courtly purpose.

"As the sunlight round the dim earth's midnight

tower of shadow pours,
Streaming past the dim, wide portals,
Viewless to the eyes of mortals,
Till it floods the moon's pale islet or the morning's
golden shores."

So sings Mr. Trowbridge, with a noble
inspiration. And so had the sunlight

A STARRY DRIVE. 193

flooded that pale islet of the moon, and
her lit face put out, one after another,
that galaxy of stars. The wonder of the
drive was over ; but, by some nice con-
junction of clearness in the air and fit
shadow in the valley where we travelled,
we had seen for a little while that brave
display of the midnight heavens. It was
gone, but it had been ; nor shall I ever
again behold the stars with the same
mind. He who has seen the sea corn-
moved with a great hurricane, thinks of
it very differently from him who has
seen it only in a calm. And the difference
between a calm and a hurricane is not
greatly more striking than that between
the ordinary face of night and the
splendour that shone upon us in that
drive. Two in our waggon knew night
as she shines upon the tropics, but even

194 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

that bore no comparison. The nameless
colour of the sky, the hues of the star-
fire, and the incredible projection of the
stars themselves, starting from their
orbits, so that the eye seemed to dis-
tinguish their positions in the hollow of
space — these were things that we had
never seen before and shall never see
again.

Meanwhile, in this altered night, we
proceeded on our way among the scents
and silence of the forest, reached the
top of the grade, wound up by Hanson's,
and came at last to a stand under the
flying gargoyle of the chute. Sam, who
had been lying back, fast asleep, with the
moon on his face, got down, with the
remark that it was pleasant "to be
home." The waggon turned and drove
away, the noise gently dying in the

A STARRY DRIVE. 195

woods, and we clambered up the rough
path, Caliban's great feat of engineering,
and came home to Silverado.

The moon shone in at the eastern
doors and windows, and over the lumber
on the platform. The one tall pine
beside the ledge was steeped in silver.
Away up the canyon, a wild cat welcomed
us with three discordant squalls. But
once we had lit a candle, and began to
review our improvements, homely in either
sense, and count our stores, it was won-
derful what a feeling of possession and
permanence grew up in the hearts of the
lords of Silverado. A bed had still to
be made up for Strong, and the morning's
water to be fetched, with clinking pail;
and as we set about these household
duties, and showed off our wealth and
conveniences before the stranger, and had

196 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

a glass of wine, I think, in honour of our
return, and trooped at length one after
another up the flying bridge of plank,
and lay down to sleep in our shattered,
moon-pierced barrack, we were among
the happiest sovereigns in the world, and
certainly ruled over the most contented
people. Yet, in our absence, the palace
had been sacked. Wild cats, so the
Hansons said, had broken in and carried
off a side of bacon, a hatchet, and two
knives.

EPISODES IN THE STORY
OF A MINE.

EPISODES IN THE STORY
OF A MINE.

No one could live at Silverado and not be
curious about the story of the mine. We
were surrounded by so many evidences
of expense and toil, we lived so entirely
in the wreck of that great enterprise,
like mites in the ruins of a cheese,
that the idea of the old din and bustle
haunted our repose. Our own house,
the forge, the dump, the chutes, the
rails, the windlass, the mass of broken
plant ; the two tunnels, one far below
in the green dell, the other on the
platform where we kept our wine ; the

200 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

deep shaft, with the sun-glints and the
water-drops ; above all, the ledge, that
great gaping slice out of the mountain
shoulder, propped apart by wooden
wedges, on whose immediate margin,
high above our heads, the one tall pine
precariously nodded — these stood for its
greatness ; while, the dog-hutch, boot-
jacks, old boots, old tavern bills, and the
very beds that we inherited from bygone
miners, put in human touches and
realized for us the story of the past.

I have sat on an old sleeper, under the
thick madronas near the forge, with just
a look over the dump on the green world
below, and seen the sun lying broad
among the wreck, and heard the silence
broken only by the tinkling water in the
shaft, or a stir of the royal family about
the battered palace, and my mind has

EPISODES IN TEE STORY OF A MINE. 201

gone back to the epoch of the Stanleys
and the Chapmans, with a grand tutti
of pick and drill, hammer and anvil,
echoing about the canyon ; the assayer
hard at it in our dining-room ; the carts
below on the road, and their cargo of red
mineral bounding and thundering down
the iron chute. And now all gone — all
fallen away into this sunny silence and
desertion : a family of squatters dining
in the assayer's office, making their beds
in the big sleeping room erstwhile so
crowded, keeping their wine in the tunnel
that once rang with picks.

But Silverado itself, although now
fallen in its turn into decay, was once but
a mushroom, and had succeeded to other
mines and other flitting cities. Twenty
years ago, away down the glen on the
Lake County side there was a place,

202 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Jonestown by name, with two thousand
inhabitants dwelling under canvas, and
one roofed house for the sale of whiskey.
Bound on the western side of Mount
Saint Helena, there was at the same date,
a second large encampment, its name, if
it ever had one, lost for me. Both of
these have perished, leaving not a stick
and scarce a memory behind them. Tide
after tide of hopeful miners have thus
flowed and ebbed about the mountain,
coming and going, now by lone pros-
pectors, now with a rush. Last, in order
of time came Silverado, reared the big
mill, in the valley, founded the town
which is now represented, monumentally,
by Hanson's, pierced all these slaps and
shafts and tunnels, and in turn declined
and died away.

" Our noisy years seem moments in the wake
Of the eternal silence."

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 203

As to the success of Silverado in its
time of being, two reports were current.
According to the first, six hundred thou-
sand dollars were taken out of that great
upright seam, that still hung open above
us on crazy wedges. Then the ledge
pinched out, and there followed, in quest
of the remainder, a great drifting and
tunnelling in all directions, and a great
consequent effusion of dollars, until, all
parties being sick of the expense, the mine
was deserted, and the town decamped.
According to the second version, told me
with much secrecy of manner, the whole
affair, mine, mill, and town, were parts
of one majestic swindle. There had
never come any silver out of any portion
of the mine ; there was no silver to
come. At midnight trains of packhorses
might have been observed winding by

204 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

devious tracks about the shoulder of the
mountain. They came from far away,
from Amador or Placer, laden with silver
in " old cigar boxes." They discharged
their load at Silverado, in the hour of
sleep ; and before the morning they were
gone again with their mysterious drivers
to their unknown source. In this way,
twenty thousand pounds' worth of silver
was smuggled in under cover of night, in
these old cigar boxes; mixed with
Silverado mineral ; carted down to the
mill; crushed, amalgated, and refined,
and despatched to the city as the proper
product of the mine. Stock-jobbing, if it
can cover such expenses, must be a
profitable business in San Francisco.

I give these two versions as I got
them. But I place little reliance on
either, my belief in history having been

EPISODES IN TEE STOUT OF A MINE. 205

greatly shaken. For it chanced that I
had come to dwell in Silverado at a
critical hour; great events in its history
were about to happen — did happen, as
I am led to believe ; nay, and it will be
seen that I played a part in that revolu-
tion myself. And yet from first to last
I never had a glimmer of an idea what
was going on ; and even now, after full
reflection, profess myself at sea. That
there was some obscure intrigue of the
cigar-box order, and that I, in the
character of a wooden puppet, set pen to
paper in the interest of somebody, so
much, and no more, is certain.

Silverado, then under my immediate
sway, belonged to one whom I will call
a Mr. Eonalds. I only knew him through
the extraordinarily distorting medium of
local gossip, now as a momentous jobber;

206 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTER S.

now as a dupe to point an adage; and
again, and much more probably, as an
ordinary Christian gentleman like you or
me, who had opened a mine and worked
it for a while with better and worse
fortune. So, through a defective window-
pane, you may see the passer-by shoot
up into a hunchbacked giant or dwindle
into a potbellied dwarf.

To Konalds, at least, the mine be-
longed ; but the notice by which he held
it would run out upon the 30th of June
— or rather, as I suppose, it had run
out already, and the month of grace
would expire upon that day, after which
any American citizen might post a notice
of his own, and make Silverado his.
This, with a sort of quiet slyness, Bufe
told me at an early period of our acquaint-
ance. There was no silver, of course ;

EPISODES IN THE STORT OF A MINE. 207

the mine " wasn't worth nothing, Mr.
Stevens," but there was a deal of old iron
and wood around, and to gain possession
of this old wood and iron, and get a
right to the water. Eufe proposed, if I
had no objections, to " jump the claim."

Of course, I had no objection. But
I was filled with wonder. If all he
wanted was the wood and iron, what, in
the name of fortune, was to prevent him
taking them ? " His right there was
none to dispute." He might lay hands
on all to-morrow, as the wild cats had
laid hands upon our knives and hatchet.
Besides, was this mass of heavy mining
plant worth transportation ? If it was,
why had not the rightful owners carted
it away ? If it was, would they not pre-
serve their title to these movables, even
after they had lost their title to the

208 TEE SILVEEADO SQUATTEES.

mine? And if it were not, what the
better was Kufe ? Nothing would grow
at Silverado ; there was even no wood to
cut ; beyond a sense of property, there
was nothing to be gained. Lastly, was
it at all credible that Eonalds would
forget what Eufe remembered ? The
days of grace were not yet over : any fine
morning he might appear, paper in hand,
and enter for another year on his inherit-
ance. However, it was none of my busi-
ness ; all seemed legal ; Eufe or Eonalds,
all was one to me.

On the morning of the 27th, Mrs.
Hanson appeared with the milk as usual,
in her sun-bonnet. The time would be
out on Tuesday, she reminded us, and
bade me be in readiness to play my part,
though I had no idea what it was to be.
And suppose Eonalds came ? we asked.

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 209

She received the idea with derision,
laughing aloud with all her fine teeth.
He could not find the mine to save his
life, it appeared, without Eufe to guide
him. Last year, when he came, they
heard him "up and down the road a
hollerin' and a raisin' Cain." And at
last he had to come to the Hansons in
despair, and bid Eufe, " Jump into your
pants and shoes, and show me where this
old mine is, anyway ! " Seeing that
Eonalds had laid out so much money in
the spot, and that a beaten road led right
up to the bottom of the dump, I thought
this a remarkable example. The sense
of locality must be singularly in abeyance
in the case of Eonalds.

That same evening, supper comfortably
over, Joe Strong busy at work on a draw-
ing of the dump and the opposite hills,

210 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

we were all out on the platform together,
sitting there, under the tented heavens,
with the same sense of privacy as if we
had been cabined in a parlour, when the
sound of brisk footsteps came mounting
up the path. We pricked our ears at
this, for the tread seemed lighter and
firmer than was usual with our country
neighbours. And presently, sure enough,
two town gentlemen, with cigars and
kid gloves, came debouching past the
house. They looked in that place like a
blasphemy.

" Good evening," they said. For none
of us had stirred; we all sat stiff with
wonder.

" Good evening,'' I returned ; and then,
to put them at their ease, " A stiff climb,"
I added.

"Yes," replied the leader; "but we
have to thank you for this path."

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 21 1

I did not like the man's tone. None
of us liked it. He did not seem em-
barrassed by the meeting, but threw us
his remarks like favours, and strode
magisterially by us towards the shaft and
tunnel.

Presently we heard his voice raised to
his companion. " We drifted every sort
of way, but couldn't strike the ledge."
Then again : " It pinched out here." And
once more: " Every miner that ever
worked upon it says there's bound to be
a ledge somewhere."

These were the snatches of his talk
that reached us, and they had a damn-
ing significance. We, the lords of
Silverado, had come face to face with our
superior. It is the worst of all quaint
and of all cheap ways of life that they
bring us at last to the pinch of borne

212 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

humiliation. I liked well enough to be
a squatter when there was none but
Hanson by ; before Eonalds, I will
own, I somewhat quailed. I hastened
to do him fealty, said I gathered he
was the Squattee, and apologized. He
threatened me with ejection, in a manner
grimly pleasant — more pleasant to him,
I fancy, than to me ; and then he passed
off into praises of the former state of
Silverado. "It was the busiest little
mining town you ever saw : " a popula-
tion of between a thousand and fifteen
hundred souls, the engine in full blast,
the mill newly erected ; nothing going
but champagne, and hope the order of
the day. Ninety thousand dollars came
out ; a hundred and forty thousand were
put in, making a net loss of fifty thousand.
The last days, I gathered, the days of

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 213

John Stanley, were not so bright ; the
champagne had ceased to flow, the
population was already moving elsewhere,
and Silverado had begun to wither in
the branch before it was cut at the root.
The last shot that was fired knocked over
the stove chimney, and made that hole
in the roof of our barrack, through which
the sun was wont to visit slug-a-beds
towards afternoon. A noisy last shot, to
inaugurate the days of silence.

Throughout this interview, my con-
science was a good deal exercised; and
I was moved to throw myself on my
knees and own the intended treachery.
But then I had Hanson to consider. I
was in much the same position as Old
Kowley, that royal humourist, whom " the
rogue had taken into his confidence."
And again, here was Ronalds on the

214 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

spot. He must know the day of the
month as well as Hanson and I. If a
broad hint were necessary, he had the
broadest in the world. For a large board
had been nailed by the crown prince on
the very front of our house, between the
door and window, painted in cinnabar —
the pigment of the country — with doggrel
rhymes and contumelious pictures, and an-
nouncing, in terms unnecessarily figura-
tive, that the trick was already played, the
claim already jumped, and Master Sam
the legitimate successor of Mr. Eonalds.
But no, nothing could save that man ;
quern deus vult perdere, prius dementat.
As he came so he went, and left his
rights depending.

Late at night, by Silverado reckoning,
and after we were all abed, Mrs. Hanson
returned to give us the newest of her

EPISODES IN TEE STORY OF A MINE. 2 1 5

news. It was like a scene in a ship's
steerage : all of us abed in our different
tiers, the single candle struggling with
the darkness, and this plump, handsome
woman, seated on an upturned valise
heside the bunks, talking and showing
her fine teeth, and laughing till the
rafters rang. Any ship, to be sure, with
a hundredth part as many holes in it as
our barrack, must long ago have gone to
her last port. Up to that time I had
always imagined Mrs. Hanson's loquacity
to be mere incontinence, that she said
what was uppermost for the pleasure of

speaking, and laughed and laughed again

*,
as a kind of musical accompaniment.

But I now found there was an art in it.
I found it less communicative than silence
itself. I wished to know why Ronalds
had come; how he had found his way

216 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

without Eufe ; and why, being on the
spot, he had not refreshed his title. She
talked interminably on, but her replies
were never answers. She fled under a
cloud of words ; and when I had made
sure that she was purposely eluding me,
I dropped the subject in my turn, and
let her rattle where she would.

She had come to tell us that, instead
of waiting for Tuesday, the claim was to
be jumped on the morrow. How? If
the time were not out, it was impossible.
Why? If Ronalds had come and gone,
and done nothing, there was the less

cause for hurry. But again I could reach

v

no satisfaction. The claim was to be
jumped next morning, that was all that
she would condescend upon.

And yet it was not jumped the next
morning, nor yet the next, and a whole

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 217

week had come and gone before we heard
more of this exploit. That day week,
however, a day of great heat, Hanson,
with a little roll of paper in his hand,
and the eternal pipe alight; Breedlove,
his large, dull friend, to act, I suppose,
as witness ; Mrs. Hanson, in her Sunday
best ; and all the children, from the oldest
to the youngest ; — arrived in a procession,
tailing one behind another up the path.
Caliban was absent, but he had been
chary of his friendly visits since the row ;
and with that exception, the whole family
was gathered together as for a marriage
or a christening. Strong was sitting at
work, in the shade of the dwarf madronas
near the forge ; and they planted them-
selves about him in a circle, one on a
stone, another on the waggon rails, a
third on a piece of plank. Gradually the

218 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

childen stole away up the canyon to
where there was another chute, somewhat
smaller than the one across the dump ;
and down this chute, for the rest of the
afternoon, they poured one avalanche of
stones after another, waking the echoes
of the glen. Meantime we elders sat
together on the platform, Hanson and his
friend smoking in silence like Indian
sachems, Mrs. Hanson rattling on as
usual with an adroit volubility, saying
nothing, but keeping the party at their
ease like a courtly hostess.

Not a word occurred about the business
of the day. Once, twice, and thrice I
tried to slide the subject in, but was
discouraged by the stoic apathy of Eufe,
and beaten down before the pouring
verbiage of his wife. There is nothing
of the Indian brave about me, and I

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 219

began to grill with impatience. At last,
like a highway robber, I cornered Hanson,
and bade him stand and deliver his busi-
ness. Thereupon he gravely rose, as
though to hint that this was not a proper
place, nor the subject one suitable for
squaws, and I, following his example, led
him up the plank into our barrack.
There he bestowed himself on a box, and
unrolled his papers with fastidious de-
liberation. There were two sheets of
note-paper, and an old mining notice,
dated May 30th, 1879, part print, part
manuscript, and the latter much oblite-
rated by the rains. It was by this
identical piece of paper that the mine
had been held last year. For thirteen
months it had endured the weather and
the change of seasons on a cairn behind
the shoulder of the canyon ; and it was

220 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

now my business, spreading it before me
on the table, and sitting on a valise, to
copy its terms, with some necessary
changes, twice over on the two sheets of
note-paper. One was then to be placed
on the same cairn — a " mound of rocks "
the notice put it ; and the other to be
lodged for registration.

Eufe watched me, silently smoking, till
I came to the place for the locator's name
at the end of the first copy ; and when I
proposed that he should sign, I thought
I saw a scare in his eye. " I don't think
that'll be necessary," he said slowly; " just
you write it down." Perhaps this mighty
hunter, who was the most active member
of the local school board, could not write.
There would be nothing strange in that.
The constable of Calistoga is, and has
been for years, a bed-ridden man, and, if

EPISODES IN THE STORY OF A MINE. 221

I remember rightly, blind. He had more
need of the emoluments than another, it
was explained ; and it was easy for him to
" depytize," with a strong accent on the
last. So friendly and so free are popular
institutions.

When I had done my scrivening,
Hanson strolled out, and addressed Breed-
love, " Will you step up here a bit ? " and
after they had disappeared a little while
into the chaparral and madrona thicket,
they came back again, minus a notice,
and the deed was done. The claim was
jumped ; a tract of mountain-side, fifteen
hundred feet long by six hundred wide,
with all the earth's precious bowels, had
passed from Konalds to Hanson, and, in
the passage, changed its name from the
" Mammoth " to the " Calistoga." I had
tried to get Eufe to call it after his wife,

222 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

after himself, and after Garfield, the
Kepublican Presidential candidate of the
hour — since then elected, and, alas ! dead
— but all was in vain. The claim had once
been called the Calistoga before, and he
seemed to feel safety in returning to that.
And so the history of that mine became
once more plunged in darkness, lit only
by some monster pyrotechnical displays
of gossip. And perhaps the most curious
feature of the whole matter is this : that
we should have dwelt in this quiet corner
of the mountains, with not a dozen neigh-
bours, and yet struggled all the while,
like desperate swimmers, in this sea of
falsities and contradictions. Wherever
a man is, there will be a lie.

TOILS AND PLEASURES.

TOILS AND PLEASURES.

I MUST try to convey some notion of our
life, of how the days passed and what
pleasure we took in them, of what there
was to do and how we set about doing it,
in our mountain hermitage. The house,
after we had repaired the worst of the
damages, and filled in some of the doors
and windows with white cotton cloth,
became a healthy and a pleasant dwelling-
place, always airy and dry, and haunted
by the outdoor perfumes of the glen.
Within, it had the look of habitation, the
human look. You had only to go into
the third room, which we did not use,

Q

226 THE SILVERADO SQUATTER S.

and see its stones, its sifting earth, its
tumbled litter; and then return to our
lodging, with the beds made, the plates on
the rack, the pail of bright water behind
the door, the stove crackling in a corner,
and perhaps the table roughly laid against
a meal, — and man's order, the little clean
spots that he creates to dwell in, were at
once contrasted with the rich passivity of
nature. And yet our house was every-
where so wrecked and shattered, the air
came and went so freely, the sun found so
many portholes, the golden outdoor glow
shone in so many open chinks, that we
enjoyed, at the same time, some of the
comforts of a roof and much of the gaiety
and brightness of al fresco life. A single
shower of rain, to be sure, and we should
have been drowned out like mice. But
ours was a Californian summer, and an

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 227

earthquake was a far likelier accident
than a shower of rain.

Trustful in this fine weather, we kept
the house for kitchen and bedroom,, and
used the platform as our summer parlour.
The sense of privacy, as I have said
already, was complete. We could look
over the dump on miles of forest and
rough hilltop ; our eyes commanded
some of Napa Valley, where the train
ran, and the little country townships sat
so close together along the line of the
rail. But here there was no man to
intrude. None hut the Hansons were our
visitors. Even they came but at long
intervals, or twice daily, at a stated hour,
with milk. So our days, as they were
never interrupted, drew out to the greater
length ; hour melted insensibly into hour;
the household duties, though they were

228 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

many, and some of them laborious,
dwindled into mere islets of business in a
sea of sunny day-time ; and it appears to
me, looking back, as though the far
greater part of our life at Silverado had
been passed, propped upon an elbow, or
seated on a plank, listening to the silence
that there is among the hills.

My work, it is true, was over early in
the morning. I rose before any one else,
lit the stove, put on the water to boil, and
strolled forth upon the platform to wait
till it was ready. Silverado would then
be still in shadow, the sun shining on the
mountain higher up. A clean smell of
trees, a smell of the earth at morning,
hung in the air. Eegularly, every day,
there was a single bird, not singing, but
awkwardly chirruping among the green
madronas, and the sound was cheerful,

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 229

natural, and stirring. It did not hold the
attention, nor interrupt the thread of
meditation, like a blackhird or a nightin-
gale ; it was mere woodland prattle, of
which the mind was conscious like a per-
fume. The freshness of these morning
seasons remained with me far on into the
day.

As soon as the kettle boiled, I made
porridge and coffee ; and that, beyond the
literal drawing of water, and the prepara-
tion of kindling, which it would be hyper-
bolical to call the hewing of wood, ended
my domestic duties for the day. Thence-
forth my wife laboured single-handed in
the palace, and I lay or wandered on the
platform at my own sweet will. The
little corner near the forge, where we
found a refuge under the madronas from
the unsparing early sun, is indeed con-

230 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

nected in my mind with some nightmare
encounters over Euclid, and the Latin
Grammar. These were known as Sam's
lessons. He was supposed to be the
victim and the sufferer; but here there
must have been some misconception, for
whereas I generally retired to bed after
one of these engagements, he was no
sooner set free than he dashed up to the
Chinaman's house, where he had installed
a printing press, that great element of
civilization, and the sound of his labours
would be faintly audible about the canyon
half the day.

To walk at all was a laborious business ;
the foot sank and slid, the boots were cut
to pieces, among sharp, uneven, rolling
stones. When we crossed the platform in
any direction, it was usual to lay a course,
following as much as possible the line

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 231

of waggon rails. Thus, if water were to
be drawn, the water-carrier left the house
along some tilting planks that we had
laid down, and not laid down very well.
These carried him to that great highroad,
the railway ; and the railway served him
as far as to the head of the shaft. But
from thence to the spring and hack again
he made the best of his unaided way,
staggering among the stones, and wading
in low growth of the calcanthus, where
the rattlesnakes lay hissing at his passage.
Yet I liked to draw water. It was

pleasant to dip the gray metal pail into

>

the clean, colourless, cool water ; pleasant
to carry it back, with the water lipping at
the edge, and a broken sunbeam quivering
in the midst.

But the extreme roughness of the
walking confined us in common practice

232 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

to the platform, and indeed to those parts
of it that were most easily accessible along
the line of rails. The rails came straight
forward from the shaft, here and there
overgrown with little green bushes, but
still entire, and still carrying a truck,
which it was Sam's delight to trundle to
and fro by the hour with various ladings.
About midway down the platform, the
railroad trended to the right, leaving our
house and coasting along the far side
within a few yards of the madronas and
the forge, and not far off the latter, ended
in a sort of platform on the edge of the
dump. There, in old days, the trucks
were tipped, and their load sent thunder-
ing down the chute. There, besides, was
the only spot where we could approach the
margin of the dump. Anywhere else, you
took your life in your right hand when

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 233

you came within a yard and a half to peer
over. For at any moment the dump
might hegin to slide and carry you down
and bury you below its ruins. Indeed,
the neighbourhood of an old mine is a
place beset with dangers. For as still as
Silverado was, at any moment the report
of rotten wood might tell us that the plat-
form had fallen into the shaft ; the dump
might begin to pour into the road below ;
or a wedge slip in the great upright seam,
and hundreds of tons of mountain bury
the scene of our encampment.

I have already compared the dump to
a rampart, built certainly by some rude
people, and for prehistoric wars. It was
likewise a frontier. All below was green
and woodland, the tall pines soaring one
above another, each with a firm outline
and full spread of bough. All above was

234 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

arid, rocky, and bald. The great spout
of broken mineral, that had dammed the
canyon up, was a creature of man's
handiwork, its material dug out with a
pick and powder, and spread by the
service of the trucks. But nature her-
self, in that upper district, seemed to
have had an eye to nothing besides
mining ; and even the natural hill-side
was all sliding gravel and precarious
boulder. Close at the margin of the well
leaves would decay to skeletons and
mummies, which at length some stronger
gust would carry clear of the canyon and
scatter in the subjacent woods. Even
moisture and decaying vegetable matter
could not, with all nature's alchemy,
concoct enough soil to nourish a few poor
grasses. It is the same, they say, in the
neighbourhood of all silver mines ; the

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 235

nature of that precious rock being stub-
born with quartz and poisonous with
cinnabar. Both were plenty in our
Silverado. The stones sparkled white in
the sunshine with quartz ; they were all
stained red with cinnabar. Here, doubt-
less, came the Indians of yore to paint
their faces for the war-path ; and cinnabar,
if I remember rightly, was one of the few
articles of Indian commerce. Now, Sam
had it in his undisturbed possession, to
pound down and slake, and paint his rude
designs with. But to me it had always
a fine flavour of poetry, compounded out
of Indian story and Hawthornden's allu-
sion :

" Desire, alas ! desire a Zeuxis new,
From Indies borrowing gold, from Eastern skies
Most bright cinoper . . ."

Yet this is but half the picture ; our

236 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Silverado platform has another side to it.
Though there was no soil, and scarce a
blade of grass, yet out of these tumbled
gravel -heaps and broken boulders, a
flower garden bloomed as at home in a
conservatory. Calcanthus crept, like
a hardy weed, all over our rough parlour,
choking the railway, and pushing forth
its rusty, aromatic cones from between
two blocks of shattered mineral. Azaleas
made a big snow-bed just above the
well. The shoulder of the hill waved
white with Mediterranean heath. In the
crannies of the ledge and about the spurs
of the tall pine, a red flowering stone-
plant hung in clusters. Even the low,
thorny chaparral was thick with pea-
like blossom. Close at the foot of our
path nutmegs prospered, delightful to the
sight and smell. At sunrise, and again

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 237

late at night, the scent of the sweet bay
trees filled the canyon, and the down-
blowing night wind must have borne it
hundreds of feet into the outer air.

All this vegetation, to be sure, was
stunted. The madrona was here no
bigger than the manzanita ; the bay was
but a stripling shrub ; the very pines,
with four or five exceptions in all our
upper canyon, were not so tall as myself,
or but a little taller, and the most of
them came lower than my waist. For
a prosperous forest tree, we must look
below, where the glen was crowded with
green spires. But for flowers and ravish-
ing perfume, we had none to envy : our
heap of road-metal was thick with bloom,
like a hawthorn in the front of June ;
our red, baking angle in the mountain,
a laboratory of poignant scents. It was

238 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

an endless wonder to my mind, as I
dreamed about the platform, following
the progress of the shadows, where the
madrona with its leaves, the azalea and
calcanthus with their blossoms, could
find moisture to support such thick, wet,
waxy growths, or the bay tree collect
the ingredients of its perfume. But
there they all grew together, healthy,
happy, and happy-making, as though
rooted in a fathom of black soil.

Nor . was it only vegetable life that
prospered. We had, indeed, few birds,
and none that had much of a voice or
anything worthy to be called a song.
My morning comrade had a thin chirp,
unmusical and monotonous, but friendly
and pleasant to hear. He had but one
rival: a fellow with an ostentatious cry
of near an octave descending, not one

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 239

note of which properly followed another.
This is the only bird I ever knew with
a wrong ear ; but there was something
enthralling about his performance. You
listened and listened, thinking each time
he must surely get it right ; but no, it
was always wrong, and always wrong the
same way. Yet he seemed proud of his
song, delivered it with execution and a
manner of his own, and was charming to
his mate. A very incorrect, incessant
human whistler had thus a chance of
knowing how his own music pleased the
world. Two great birds — eagles, we
thought — dwelt at the top of the canyon,
among the crags that were printed on
the sky. Now and again, but very rarely,
they wheeled high over our heads in
silence, or with a distant, dying scream ;
and then, with a fresh impulse, winged

240 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

fleetly forward, dipped over a hilltop, and
were gone. They seemed solemn and
ancient things, sailing the blue air :
perhaps co-oeval with the mountain where
they haunted, perhaps emigrants from
Eome, where the glad legions may have
shouted to behold them on the morn of
battle.

But if birds were rare, the place
abounded with rattlesnakes — the rattle-
snake's nest, it might have been named.
Wherever we brushed among the bushes,
our passage woke their angry buzz. One
dwelt habitually in the wood-pile, and
sometimes, when we came for firewood,
thrust up his small head between two
logs, and hissed at the intrusion. The
rattle has a legendary credit; it is said
to be awe-inspiring, and, once heard, to
stamp itself for ever in the memory.

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 241

But the sound is not at all alarming ;
the hum of many insects, and the buzz
of the wasp convince the ear of danger
quite as readily. As a matter of fact,
we lived for weeks in Silverado, coming
and going, with rattles sprung on every
side, and it never occurred to us to be
afraid. I used to take sun-baths and do
calisthenics in a certain pleasant nook
among azalea and calcanthus, the rattles
whizzing on every side like spinning-
wheels, and the combined hiss or buzz
rising louder and angrier at any sudden
movement ; but I was never in the least
impressed, nor ever attacked. It was
only towards the end of our stay, that
a man down at Calistoga, who was ex-
patiating on the terrifying nature of the
sound, gave me at last a very good
imitation ; and it burst on me at once

R

242 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

that we dwelt in the very metropolis of
deadly snakes, and that the rattle was
simply the commonest noise in Silverado.
Immediately on our return, we attacked
the Hansons on the subject. They had
formerly assured us that our canyon was
favoured, like Ireland, with an entire
immunity from poisonous reptiles ; but,
with the perfect inconsequence of the
natural man, they were no sooner found
out than they went off at score in the
contrary direction, and we were told
that in no part of the world did rattle-
snakes attain to such a monstrous bigness
as among the warm, flower-dotted rocks
of Silverado. This is a contribution
rather to the natural history of the
Hansons, than to that of snakes.

One person, however, better served by
his instinct, had known the rattle from

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 243

the first ; and that was Chuchu, the dog.
No rational creature has ever led an
existence more poisoned by terror than
that dog's at Silverado. Every whiz of
the rattle made him hound. His eyes
rolled ; he trembled ; he would be often
wet with sweat. One of our great
mysteries was his terror of the mountain.
A little away above our nook, the azaleas
and almost all the vegetation ceased.
Dwarf pines not big enough to be Christ-
mas trees, grew thinly among loose stone
and gravel scaurs. Here and there a big
boulder sat quiescent on a knoll, having
paused there till the next rain in his long
slide down the mountain. There was
here no ambuscade for the snakes, you
could see clearly where you trod ; and yet
the higher I went, the more abject and
appealing became Chuchu's terror. He

244 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

was an excellent master of that composite
language in which dogs communicate with
men, and he would assure me, on his
honour, that there was some peril on the
mountain ; appeal to me, by all that I
held holy, to turn back; and at length,
finding all was in vain, and that I still
persisted, ignorantly foolhardy, he would
suddenly whip round and make a bee-line
down the slope for Silverado, the gravel
showering after him. What was he afraid
of ? There were admittedly brown bears
and California lions on the mountain ;
and a grizzly visited Eufe's poultry yard
not long before, to the unspeakable alarm
of Caliban, who dashed out to chastise
the intruder, and found himself, by moon-
light, face to face with such a tartar.
Something at least there must have been :
some hairy, dangerous brute lodged per-

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 245

manently among the rocks a little to the
north-west of Silverado, spending his
summer thereabout, with wife and family.
And there was, or there had been,
another animal. Once, under the broad
daylight, on that open stony hillside,
where the baby pines were growing,
scarcely tall enough to be a badge for
a MacGregor's bonnet, I came suddenly
upon his innocent body, lying mummified
by the dry air and sun: a pigmy kangaroo.
I am ingloriously ignorant of these sub-
jects ; had never heard of such a beast ;
thought myself face to face with some
incomparable sport of nature ; and began
to cherish hopes of immortality in science.
Rarely have I been conscious of a stranger
thrill than when I raised that singular
creature from the stones, dry as a board,
his innocent heart long quiet, and all

246 THE SILVEEADO SQUATTERS.

warm with sunshine. His long hind legs
were stiff, his tiny forepaws clutched
upon his breast, as if to leap ; his poor
life cut short upon that mountain by
some unknown accident. But the kan-
garoo rat, it proved, was no such un-
known animal; and my discovery was
nothing.

Crickets were not wanting. I thought
I could make out exactly four of them,
each with a corner of his own, who used
to make night musical at Silverado. In
the matter of voice, they far excelled the
birds, and their ringing whistle sounded
from rock to rock, calling and replying
the same thing, as in a meaningless opera.
Thus, children in full health and spirits
shout together, to the dismay of neigh-
bours ; and their idle, happy, deafening
vociferations rise and fall, like the song of

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 247

the crickets. I used to sit at night on
the platform, and wonder why these
creatures were so happy ; and what was
wrong with man that he also did not wind
up his days with an hour or two of shout-
ing ; but 1 suspect that all long-lived
animals are solemn. The dogs alone are
hardly used by nature ; and it seems a
manifest injustice for poor Chuchu to die
in his teens, after a life so shadowed and
troubled, continually shaken with alarrn,
and the tear of elegant sentiment perman-
ently in his eye.

There was another neighbour of ours
at Silverado, small but very active, a
destructive fellow. This was a black,
ugly fly — a bore, the Hansons called him
— who lived by hundreds in the boarding
of our house. He entered by a round
hole, more neatly pierced than a man

248 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

could do it with a gimlet, and lie seems
to have spent his life in cutting out the
interior of the plank, but whether as a
dwelling or a store-house, I could never
find. When I used to lie in bed in the
morning for a rest — we had no easy-chairs
in Silverado — I would hear, hour after
hour, the sharp cutting sound of his
labours, and from time to time a dainty
shower of sawdust would fall upon the
blankets. There lives no more industrious
creature than a bore.

And now that I have named to the
reader all our animals and insects without
exception — only I find I have forgotten
the flies — he will be able to appreciate
the singular privacy and silence of our
days. It was not only man who was
excluded : animals, the song of birds, the
lowing of cattle, the bleating of sheep,

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 240

clouds even, and the variations of the
weather, were here also wanting ; and as,
day after day, the sky was one dome of
blue, and the pines below us stood
motionless in the still air, so the hours
themselves were marked out from each
other only by the series of our own affairs,
and the sun's great period as he ranged
westward through the heavens. The two
birds cackled a while in the early morn-
ing; all day the water tinkled in the
shaft, the bores ground sawdust in the
planking of our crazy palace— infinitesimal
sounds ; and it was only with the return
of night that any change would fall on
our surroundings, or the four crickets
begin to flute together in the dark.

Indeed, it would be hard to exaggerate
the pleasure that we took in the approach
of evening. Our day was not very long, but

250 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

it was very tiring. To trip along unsteady
planks or wade among shifting stones, to
go to and fro for water, to clamber down
the glen to the Toll House after meat
and letters; to cook, to make fires and
beds, were all exhausting to the body.
Life out of doors, besides, under the fierce
eye of day, draws largely on the animal
spirits. There are certain hours in the
afternoon when a man, unless he is in
strong health or enjoys a vacant mind,
would rather creep into a cool corner of
a house and sit upon the chairs of
civilization. About that time, the sharp
stones, the planks, the upturned boxes of
Silverado, began to grow irksome to my
body ; I set out on that hopeless, never-
ending quest for a more comfortable pos-
ture; I would be fevered and weary of
the staring sun ; and just then he would

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 251

begin courteously to withdraw his counte-
nance, the shadows lengthened, the aro-
matic airs awoke, and an indescribable
but happy change announced the coming
of the night.

The hours of evening, when we were
once curtained in the friendly dark,
sped lightly. Even as with the crickets,
night brought to us a certain spirit of
rejoicing. It was good to taste the air ;
good to mark the dawning of the stars,
as they increased their glittering com-
pany; good, too, to gather stones, and
send them crashing down the chute,
a wave of light. It seemed, in some
way, the reward and the fulfilment of the
day. So it is when men dwell in the
open air ; it is one of the simple pleasures
that we lose by living cribbed and covered
in a house, that, though the coming of

252 TEE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

the day is still the most inspiriting, yet
day's departure, also, and the return of
night refresh, renew, and quiet us ; and
in the pastures of the dusk we stand, like
cattle, exulting in the absence of the
load.

Our nights were never cold, and they
were always still, but for one remarkable
exception. Regularly, about nine o'clock,
a warm wind sprang up, and blew for ten
minutes, or maybe a quarter of an hour,
right down the canyon, fanning it well
out, airing it as a mother airs the night
nursery before the children sleep. As far
as I could judge, in the clear darkness
of the night, this wind was purely local :
perhaps dependant on the configuration
of the glen. At least, it was very welcome
to the hot and weary squatters ; and if
we were not abed already, the springing

TOILS AND PLEASURES. 253

up of this lilliputian valley- wind would
often be our signal to retire.

I was the last to go to bed, as I was
still the first to rise. Many a night I
have strolled about the platform, taking a
bath of darkness before I slept. The rest
would be in bed, and even from the forge
I could hear them talking together from
bunk to bunk. A single candle in the
neck of a pint bottle was their only
illumination; and yet the old cracked
house seemed literally bursting with the
light. It shone keen as a knife through
all the vertical chinks ; it struck upward
through the broken shingles ; and through
the eastern door and window, it fell in a
great splash upon the thicket and the
overhanging rock. You would have said
a conflagration, or at the least a roaring
forge ; and behold, it was but a candle.

254 THE SILVERADO SQUATTERS.

Or perhaps it was yet more strange to
see the procession moving bedwards round
the corner of the house, and up the plank
that brought us to the bedroom door;
under the immense spread of the starry
heavens, down in a crevice of the giant
mountain, these few human shapes, with
their unshielded taper, made so dispro-
portionate a figure in the eye and mind.
But the more he is alone with nature,
the greater man and his doings bulk in
the consideration of his fellow-men. Miles
and miles away upon the opposite hill-
tops, if there were any hunter belated or
any traveller who had lost his way, he
must have stood, and watched and won-
dered, from the time the candle issued
from the door of the assayer's office till
it had mounted the plank and disappeared
again into the miners' dormitory.

PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,
LONDON AND BECCLES.

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WILKIE COLLINS, continued.

BY CHARLES GIBBON.

Man and Wife.
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New Magdalen.
The Fpozen Deep.
Law and the Lady.
TheTwo Destinies

Haunted Hotel.
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One of Two

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James Duke.

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Dick Temple.

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Self-Condemned.

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A Dpawn Game.
"The Weaping of the Gpeen "
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Patpicia KembalL
The Atonement of Learn

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Gideon Fleyce.

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DearLadyDisdain

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Her Mother's Darling.

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