Killing Savages
And now, in the hope that we may meet again, I wishto leave you a trifling souvenir by which to bear me in mind.
One of the sailors on board the Anteus was kind enough to make me a suit of clothes out of the goatskins that I bought of Pearce. He made them according to a pattern of my own, which I intend some day or other to introduce in the fashionable circles. I stowed them carefully away in my berth, but the rats took such a fancy to them that, by the time I reached California, there was nothing left but the tail of one goat upon which to hang a portrait; and I regret to say the accompanying sketch, taken from memory, affords but an imperfect conception of the suit as I originally appeared in it. I trust the apparent egotism of smuggling my likeness into print in a suit of goatskins, on the pretext of exhibiting the suit itself, will be excused by the absolute necessity of filling it up with something. At the same time, I must be permitted to observe that the stiffness is in the material and not in the person of the author.
The AuthorTHE AUTHOR À LA ROBINSON CRUSOE.
THE AUTHOR À LA ROBINSON CRUSOE.
EARLY VOYAGES TO JUAN FERNANDEZ.
The group known as Juan Fernandez consists of two chief and several smaller islands, situated in the Pacific Ocean, about four hundred miles from the coast of Chili, in latitude 33° 40´ south, longitude 70° west. These islands were discovered in 1563 by Juan Fernando, a Spanish navigator, whose name they bear. The largest—lying nearest to the main land—is that which is commonly known by the name of the discoverer; it is also called Masatierra. The length of this island is about twelve miles, the breadth six or seven. Ninety miles west is the island of Masafuero, so named to distinguish it from Masatierra. Both are composed of lofty mountains; the harbors are small and unsafe, and the shores, for the most part, are rock-bound. The northern aspect, facing toward the equator, is slightly wooded, and the valleys are fertile; but the southern side, toward Cape Horn, is entirely barren. There are two or three large rocks included in the group, the chief of which, lying at the southern extremity of Masatierra, is called Goat Island, from the great number of goats found there.
According to the early navigators, it would appear that these islands must have been visited by the Indians of South America long before their discovery by Juan Fernando, but it was probably only for the purpose of fishing and catching seals.
The first attempt to form a regular settlement was made by Fernando himself, who, elated by his discovery, and the prospect of colonizing the island, endeavored to obtain a patent from the government at Lima. Failing to receive encouragement from the government, he resolved upon forming a settlement himself; and he visitedthe island soon after, taking with him some families, with whom he resided there a short time. A few goats, which they carried with them from Lima, speedily stocked the island; and this is probably the origin of these animals in Juan Fernandez, as no mention is made of their having existed there before. Eventually the colony was broken up by the superior inducements held out to settlers in Chili, which at this time fell under the dominion of the Spaniards; and the Spanish authorities of Lima still refusing to grant a patent to Fernando, he was forced to abandon all hope of forming another and more permanent settlement.
For many years subsequently this group was the resort of pirates and buccaneers, who found it convenient, in their cruising in the South Pacific, to touch there for wood and water.
Captain Tasman, a Dutch navigator, sailed from Batavia in 1642, and visited Juan Fernandez in 1643. A translation of his narrative, in Pinkerton's Collection, contains an entertaining account of the island at that period. He dwells enthusiastically upon the advantages of its position, the salubrity of the climate, the fertility of the soil, and strongly urges upon the Dutch East India Company the policy of forming a settlement there, as a dépôt for their commerce in the Pacific.
Alonzo de Ovalle, a native of Chili, gives, in his Historical Relation of the Kingdom of Chili, printed at Rome in 1649, a very entertaining account of what he says he "found writ about these islands, in Theodore and John de Bry, in their relation of the voyage of John Scutten."
Ringrose, in his account of the voyages of Captain Sharpe and other buccaneers, mentions that a vessel was cast away here, from which only one man out of the whole ship's company escaped; and that this man lived five years alone upon this island, before he had any opportunity of getting away in another vessel.
Captain Watlin was chased from Juan Fernandez in 1681 by three Spanish ships. He left on the island aMusquito Indian, who was out hunting for goats when the alarm was given, and was unable to reach the shore before the ship got under way and put to sea. This Indian, according to Dampier, whose narrative I quote, "had with him his gun and a knife, with a small horn of powder, and a few shot, which being spent, he contrived a way, by notching his knife, to saw the barrel of his gun into small pieces, wherewith he made harpoons, lances, hooks, and a long knife, heating the pieces first in the fire, which he struck with his gun-flint, and a piece of the barrel of his gun, which he hardened, having learned to do that among the English." With such rude instruments as he made in that manner, he procured an abundant supply of provisions, chiefly goats and fish. In 1684, three years after, when Dampier again visited the island, they put out a canoe from the vessel, and went ashore to look for the Musquito man. When they saw him, "he had no clothes left, having worn out those he brought from Watlin's ship, but only a skin about his waist." The scene that ensued is quaintly and touchingly described in the simple language of the narrative. "He saw our ship the day before we came to an anchor," says Dampier, "and did believe we were English, and therefore killed two goats in the morning before we came to an anchor, and dressed them with cabbage, to treat us when we came ashore. He came then to the sea-side to congratulate our safe arrival. And when we landed, a Musquito Indian, named Robin, first leaped ashore, and, running to his brother Musquito man, threw himself flat on his face at his feet, who, helping him up and embracing him, fell flat on his face on the ground at Robin's feet, and was by him taken up also. We stood with pleasure," continues the famous buccaneer, "to behold the surprise, and tenderness, and solemnity of this interview, which was exceedingly affectionate on both sides; and when their ceremonies of civility were over, we also that stood gazing at them drew near, each of us embracing him we had found here, who was overjoyedto see so many of his old friends, come hither, as he thought, purposely to fetch him."
Five Englishmen were left on the island at another time by Captain Davis. After the vessel had sailed, they were attacked by a large body of Spaniards, who landed in one of the bays; but, in consequence of the facilities for defense afforded by the cliffs, they were enabled successfully to maintain their position, although one of the party deserted and joined the Spaniards. They were afterward taken away by Captain Strong, of London.
Captain Woodes Rodgers, commander of the Duke and Duchess, privateers belonging to Bristol, visited Juan Fernandez in February, 1709. The original, and perhaps the most authentic account of the adventures of Alexander Selkirk is contained in a very curious and entertaining narrative of the voyage, written by Captain Rodgers himself, from which it appears that when the ships came near the land, a light was discovered, which it was thought must be on board of a ship at anchor. Two French vessels had been cruising in search of Captain Rodgers's vessel, and these vessels they supposed to be lying in wait for them close to the shore. The boats which had started for the shore returned, and preparations were made for action. On the following day, seeing no vessel there, they went ashore, where they found a man clothed in goatskins, looking, as the narrative says, "wilder than the first owners of them." He had been on the island four years and four months. His name was Alexander Selkirk, a Scotchman, who had been master of theCinque Ports. Having quarreled with Captain Stradling, under whose command he sailed, he was left ashore at his own request, preferring solitude on an unknown island to the life he led on board this vessel. Before the boat that put him ashore left the beach, he repented of his resolution, and begged to be taken back again; but his companions cruelly mocked him, and left him to his fate. It was he that made thefire which had attracted the attention of the two privateers. They took him on board, and, being a good officer, well recommended by Captain Dampier, he was appointed mate on board Captain Rodgers's vessel, and taken to England. The account of his adventures during his long residence on the island is supposed to have formed the foundation of Robinson Crusoe, the most popular romance ever published in any language. A brief but very curious and graphic narrative of his adventures was published in London, soon after his arrival in England, under the quaint title of "Providence displayed; or a very surprising Account of oneMr. Alexander Selkirk, Master of a Merchant Man called TheCinque Ports; who, dreaming that the Ship would soon after be lost, he desired to be left on a desolate Island in the South Seas, where he lived Four Years and Four Months without seeing the Face of Man, the ship being afterward cast away as he dreamed. As also, How he came afterward to be miraculously preserved and redeemed from that fatal Place by twoBristolPrivateers, called theDukeandDuchess, that took the richAcapulcoShip, worth one hundred Ton of Gold, and brought it to England. To which is added, An Account of his Birth and Education. His description of the Island where he was cast; how he subsisted; the several strange things he saw; and how he used to spend his Time. With some pious Ejaculations that he used during his melancholy Residence there. Written by his own Hand, and attested by most of the eminent Merchants upon theRoyal Exchange."Quarto, containing twelve pages.
Lord Anson visited this island in 1741 for the purpose of recruiting his ships, after a succession of melancholy disasters in their passage round Cape Horn. An accurate topographical survey, and a full and most reliable description of Juan Fernandez, may be found in the narrative of that expedition, compiled from Lord Anson's papers, and other materials, by Richard Walter, chaplain of the Centurion. The style of this delightful narrativeis admirable for its simplicity; and the information with which it abounds in regard to the topography, climate, and productions of the island, is perhaps the most authentic of the time.
In 1743 Ulloa visited this group. He gives, among many interesting facts, a curious relation of the origin of the dogs which abound there. "We saw many dogs," he says, "of different species, particularly of the greyhound kind; and also a great number of goats, which it is very difficult to come at, artfully keeping themselves among those crags and precipices, where no other animal but themselves can live. The dogs owe their origin to a colony sent thither, not many years ago, by the President of Chili and the Viceroy of Peru, in order totally to exterminate the goats, that any pirates or ships of the enemy might not here be furnished with provisions. But this scheme has proved ineffectual, the dogs being incapable of pursuing them among the fastnesses where they live, these animals leaping from one rock to another with surprising agility."
Don George Juan touched at Juan Fernandez in 1744, and made several observations of its latitude.
Don Joseph Pizarro gives, in his narrative of his voyages, an account of a visit a few years later.
In 1750 the Spanish government founded a settlement on the principal island, and built a fort for the protection of the harbor. In the following year both the fort and the town were destroyed by a violent earthquake. They were afterward rebuilt farther from the shore, and were in good order and inhabited in 1767, when Carteret visited the island. Soon after the settlement was broken up, and the town and the fortifications were abandoned.
The Chilian government established a penal colony on the same spot in 1819, which, according to some authorities, was discontinued, after repeated efforts to maintain it, on account of its expense; according to others, in consequence of a terrible earthquake, by which the houses and fortifications were destroyed.
Chilian and ChilienneCHILIAN. CHILIENNE.
CHILIAN. CHILIENNE.
When Lord Cochrane visited the island in 1823, as it appears from a synopsis of Howel's Life of Selkirk, there were but four men stationed on it, apparently in charge of some cattle. A lady who accompanied Lord Cochrane gives the following description of its condition and appearance at that time: "The island is the most picturesque I ever saw, being composed of high perpendicular rocks, wooded nearly to the top, with beautiful valleys, exceedingly fertile, and watered by copious streams, which occasionally form small marshes. The little valley where the town is, or rather was, is exceedingly beautiful. It is full of fruit-trees and flowers, and sweet herbs, now grown wild; near the shore it is covered with radish and sea-side oats. A small fort was situated on the sea-shore, of which there is nothing now visible but the ditches and part of one wall. Another, of considerable size for the place, is on a high and commanding spot. It contained barracks for soldiers, which, as well as the greater part of the fort, are ruined; but theflag-staff, front wall, and a turret are still standing; and at the foot of the flag-staff lies a very handsome brass gun, cast in Spain A.D. 1614. A few houses and cottages are still in a tolerable condition, though most of the doors, windows, and roofs have been taken away, or used as fuel by whalers and other ships touching here. In the valleys we found numbers of European shrubs and herbs—'where once the garden smiled.' And in the half-ruined hedges, which denote the boundaries of former fields, we found apple, pear, and quince trees, with cherries almost ripe. The ascent is steep and rapid from the beach, even in the valleys, and the long grass was dry and slippery, so that it rendered the walk rather fatiguing; and we were glad to sit down under a large quince-tree, on a carpet of balm bordered with roses, now neglected, and feast our eyes on the lovely view before us. Lord Anson has not exaggerated the beauty of the place or the delights of the climate. We were rather early for its fruits, but even at this time we have gathered delicious figs, cherries, and pears, that a few days of sun would have perfected. The landing-place is also the watering-place. There a little jetty is thrown out, formed of the beach-pebbles, making a little harbor for boats, which lie there close to the fresh water, which comes conducted by a pipe, so that, with a hose, the casks may be filled without landing with the most delicious water. Along the beach some old guns are sunk, to serve as moorings for vessels, which are the safer the nearer in shore they lie, as violent gusts of wind often blow from the mountain for a few minutes. The height of the island is about three thousand feet."
"With all its beauties and resources," adds the biographer of Selkirk, "the island seemed destined never to retain those who settled on it; whether from its isolated position, at so great a distance from the continent, or from some other cause, is uncertain. Not long after Lord Cochrane's visit, however, it received an accession of inhabitants, some of them English, who settled in it under the protection of the Chilian government."
These islands (Masafuero and Masatierra) have been convulsed by several of those destructive earthquakes which prevail to such an alarming extent on the western coast of South America. In 1751 and 1835 the destruction was unusually great. The earthquake of 1835 was attended by some remarkable phenomena. An eruption burst from the sea, about a mile from the land, where the water was from fifty to eighty fathoms deep. Smoke and water were ejected during the day, and flames were seen at night.
Mr. Richard H. Dana, Jun., who visited Juan Fernandez in November, 1835, on his voyage to California, gives, in his admirable narrative (Two Years before the Mast), the following graphic account of its condition at that period: "I was called on deck to stand my watch at about three in the morning, and I shall never forget the peculiar sensation which I experienced on finding myself once more surrounded by land, feeling the night-breeze coming from off shore, and hearing the frogs and crickets. The mountains seemed almost to hang over us, and, apparently from the very heart of them, there came out, at regular intervals, a loud echoing sound, which affected me as hardly human. We saw no lights, and could hardly account for the sound, until the mate, who had been there before, told us that it was the 'Alerta' of the Spanish soldiers, who were stationed over some convicts, confined in caves nearly half way up the mountain. At the expiration of my watch I went below, feeling not a little anxious for the day, that I might see more nearly, and perhaps tread upon, this romantic, I may almost say classic island. When all hands were called it was nearly sunrise, and between that time and breakfast, although quite busy on board in getting up water-casks, etc., I had a good view of the objects about me. The harbor was nearly land-locked, and at the head of it was a landing-place protected by a small breakwater of stones, upon which two large boats were hauled up, with a sentry standing over them. Near thiswas a variety of huts or cottages, nearly a hundred in number, the best of them built of mud and whitewashed, but the greater part only Robinson Crusoe-like—of posts and branches of trees. The governor's house, as it is called, was the most conspicuous, being large, with grated windows, plastered walls, and roof of red tiles, yet, like all the rest, of only one story. Near it was a small chapel, distinguished by a cross; and a long, low, brown-looking building, surrounded by something like a palisade, from which an old and dingy-looking Chilian flag was flying. This, of course, was distinguished by the title ofPresidio. A sentinel was stationed at the chapel, another at the governor's house, and a few soldiers, armed with bayonets, looking rather ragged, with shoes out at the toes, were strolling about among the houses, or waiting at the landing-place for our boat to come ashore."
Not long after Mr. Dana's visit this settlement was entirely broken up. The houses and fortifications were destroyed by an earthquake, and the penal establishment was discontinued.
From time to time, up to the present date, there have been straggling settlers on this island, but there has been no attempt since 1835 to colonize it permanently until recently. It has been occasionally visited by vessels of different nations for supplies of wood and water, and such vegetable productions as the valleys afford. American whalers have found it a very convenient stopping-place in their cruisings on the coast of Chili and Peru; but of late years, the whales becoming scarce in these seas, they are forced to push their voyages into more remote regions. Many still touch there, however, on their way to and from the northern coast.
At the time of the writer's visit to Juan Fernandez (May, 1849), the gold excitement had but recently broken out, and vessels bound to California had just commenced making it a place of resort for refreshments in their outward voyages. Since that period, it is stated inthe newspapers that an enterprising American has taken the island on lease from the Chilian government, and established a settlement upon it of a hundred and fifty Tahitians, with the design of cultivating the earth, and furnishing vessels touching there with supplies of fruit and vegetables.
ALEXANDER SELKIRK AND ROBINSON CRUSOE.
It is stated in Howel's life of Selkirk that the singular history of this man (Alexander Selkirk) was soon made known to the public, and immediately after his arrival in London he became an object of curiosity, not only to the people at large, but to those elevated by rank and learning. Sir Richard Steele, some time after, devoted to him an article in the paper entitled "The Englishman," in which he tells the reader that, as Selkirk is a man of good sense, it is a matter of great curiosity to hear him give an account of the different revolutions of his mind during the term of his solitude. "When I first saw him," continues this writer, "I thought, if I had not been let into his character and story, I could have discovered that he had been much separated from company,from his aspect and gesture; there was a strong but cheerful seriousness in his look, and a certain disregard of the ordinary things around him, as if he had been sunk in thought. In the course of a few months," as it appears by the same writer, "familiar converse with the town hadtaken off the loneliness of his aspect, and quite altered the expression of his face."
"De Foe's romance of Robinson Crusoe was not published till the year 1719, when the original facts on which it was founded must have been nearly forgotten. There is no record of any interview having taken place between Selkirk and De Foe, so that it can not be decided whetherDe Foe learned our hero's story from his own mouth, or from such narratives as those published by Steele and others."
On this point a biographer of De Foe remarks: "Astonishing as was the success of De Foe's romance, it did not deter the curious from attempting to disparage it. The materials, it was said, were either furnished by or surreptitiously obtained from Alexander Selkirk, a mariner who had resided for four years on the desert island of Juan Fernandez, and returned to England in 1711. Very probably his story, which then excited considerable interest and attention, did suggest to De Foe the idea of writing his romance; but all the details and incidents are entirely his own. Most certainly De Foe had obtained no papers or written documents from Selkirk, as the latter had none to communicate."
Robinson Crusoe, however, can not be considered altogether a work of fiction. Without adhering strictly to the actual adventures of Selkirk, or of the Musquito Indian who preceded him, it gives, in the descriptions of scenery, the mode of providing food, the rude expedients resorted to for shelter against the weather, and all the trials and consolations of solitude, a faithfully-drawn picture from these narratives, and a most truthful and charming delineation of solitary life, with such reflections as the subject naturally suggested. De Foe was the great medium through which the spirit of the whole was fused; it required the splendor of his genius to preserve from oblivion the lessons therein taught—of the advantages of temperance, fortitude, and, above all, an implicit reliance in the wisdom and mercy of the Creator. He presents them in a most fascinating garb, with all the originality of a master-mind; and it detracts nothing from his credit to say that the pictures are drawn strictly from nature.
As Captain Rodgers well observes in his simple narrative of the adventures of Selkirk, "One may see by this that solitude and retirement from the world is notsuch an insufferable state of life as most men imagine, especially when people are fairly called or thrown into it unavoidably, as this man was; who, in all probability, must otherwise have perished in the seas, the ship which left him being cast away not long after, and few of the company escaped. We may perceive by this story that necessity is the mother of invention, since he found means to supply his wants in a very natural manner, so as to maintain his life, though not so conveniently, yet as effectually as we are able to do with all our arts and society. It may likewise instruct us how much a plain and temperate way of living conduces to the health of the body and the vigor of the mind, both of which we are apt to destroy by excess and plenty, especially of strong liquor, and the variety as well as the nature of our meat and drink; for this man, when he came to our ordinary method of diet and life, though he was sober enough, lost much of his strength and agility."
De Foe does not, as may be seen by reference to the fourth section of "Robinson Crusoe," lay the scene of his narrative in Juan Fernandez. Robinson starts from the Brazils, where he has been living as a planter, on a voyage to the coast of Guinea. Driven to the northward along the coast of South America by heavy gales, the captain of the vessel found himself "upon the coast of Guinea, or the north part of Brazil, beyond the River Amazon, toward that of the River Oronoco, commonly called the Great River; and began to consult with me," says Robinson, "what course he should take, for the ship was leaky and very much disabled, and he was for going directly back to the coast of Brazil. I was positively against that; and looking over the charts of the sea-coast of America with him, we concluded there was no inhabited country for us to have recourse to till we came within the circle of the Caribbee Islands, and therefore resolved to stand away for Barbadoes; which, by keeping off to sea, to avoid the indraught of the Bay or Gulf of Mexico, we might easily perform, as we hoped,in about fifteen days' sail; whereas we could not possibly make our voyage to the coast of Africa without some assistance both to our ship and ourselves.
"With this design we changed our course, and steered away N.W. by W. in order to reach some of our English islands, where I hoped for relief; but our voyage was otherwise determined; for, being in the latitude of 12° 18´, a second storm came upon us, which carried us away with the same impetuosity westward, and drove us so out of the very way of all human commerce, that, had our lives been saved as to the sea, we were rather in danger of being devoured by savages than ever returning to our own country.
"In this distress, the wind still blowing very hard, one of our men early in the morning cried out Land! and we had no sooner run out of the cabin to look out, in hopes of seeing whereabouts in the world we were, but the ship struck upon a sand, and in a moment her motion being so stopped, the sea broke over her in such a manner that we expected we should all have perished immediately; and we were immediately driven into our close quarters to shelter us from the very foam and spray of the sea."
It will be seen from the above that Robinson Crusoe was not wrecked on the island of Juan Fernandez. In all probability he never saw that island. I regret the fact as much as any body can regret it, because I always thought so till I referred more particularly to his history; but a due regard for truth compels me to give the facts as I find them.
"The History of Robinson Crusoe," says the biographer of De Foe, already quoted, "was first published in the year 1719, and its popularity may be said to have been established immediately, since four editions were called for in about as many months, a circumstance at that time almost unprecedented in the annals of literature. It rarely happens that an author's expectations are surpassed by the success of his work, however astonishingit may seem to others; yet perhaps even De Foe himself did not venture to look forward to such a welcome on the part of the public, after the repulses he had experienced on the part of the booksellers; for, incredible as it now appears, the manuscript of the work had been offered to, and rejected by, every one in the trade.
"The author of Robinson Crusoe would be entitled to a prominent place in the history of our literature even had he never given to the world that truly admirable production; and yet we may reasonably question whether the name of De Foe would not long ago have sunk into oblivion, or at least have been known, like those of most of his contemporaries, only to the curious student, were it not attached to a work whose popularity has been rarely equaled—never, perhaps, excelled. Even as it is, the reputation due to the writer has been nearly altogether absorbed in that of his hero, and in the all-engrossing interest of his adventures: thousands who have read Robinson Crusoe with delight, and derived from it a satisfaction in no wise diminished by repeated perusal, have never bestowed a thought on its author, or, indeed, regarded it in the light of a literary performance. While its fascination has been universally felt, the genius that conceived it, the talent that perfected it, have been generally overlooked, merely because it is so full of nature and reality as to exhibit no invention or exertion on the part of the author, inasmuch as he appears simply to have recorded what actually happened, and consequently only to have committed to paper plain matter of fact, without study or embellishment. We wonder at and are struck with admiration by the powers of Shakspeare or Cervantes; with regard to De Foe we experience no similar feeling: it is not the skill of the artist that enchants us, but the perfect naturalness of the picture, which is such that we mistake it for a mirror; so that every reader persuades himself that he could write as well, perhaps better, were he but furnished with the materials for an equally interesting narrative."
THE CANNIBAL.
In the summer of 1849 I had occasion to visit San Luis Obispo, a small town about two hundred and fifty miles south of San Francisco. At that time no steamers touched at the Embarcadera, and but little dependence could be placed upon the small sailing craft that occasionally visited that isolated part of the coast. The trail through the Salinas and Santa Marguerita valleys was considered the only reliable route, though even that was not altogether as safe as could be desired. A portion of the country lying between the Old Mission of Soledad and San Miguel was infested by roving bands of Sonoranians and lawless native Californians. Several drovers, who had started from San Francisco by this route to purchase cattle on the southern ranches, had never reached their destination. It was generally believed that they had been murdered on the way. Indeed, in two instances, this fact was established by the discovery of the mutilated remains of the murdered men. No clew could be obtained to the perpetrators of the deed, nor do I know that any legal measures were taken to find them. At that period the only laws existing were those administered by the alcaldes, under the Mexican system, which had been temporarily adopted in connection with the provisional government established by General Riley. The people generally were too deeply interested in the development of the gold regions to give themselves muchconcern about the condition of other parts of the country, and the chances of bringing criminals to punishment in the southern districts were very remote.
Mirage in the Salinas ValleyMIRAGE IN THE SALINAS VALLEY.
MIRAGE IN THE SALINAS VALLEY.
My business was connected with the revenue service. A vessel laden with foreign goods had been wrecked on the coast within a short distance of San Luis. It was necessary that immediate official inquiry should be made into the circumstances, with a view of securing payment of duties upon the cargo. I was also charged with a commission to establish a line of post-offices on the land-route to Los Angeles, and enter into contracts for the carrying of the mails.
By the advice of some friends in San Francisco, I purchased a fine-looking mule recently from the Colorado.The owner, a Texan gentleman, assured me that he had never mounted a better animal; and, so far as I was capable of judging, the recommendation seemed to be justly merited. I willingly paid him his price—three hundred dollars. Next day, having provided myself with a good pair of blankets, a few pounds of coffee, sugar, and hard bread, and a hunting-knife and tin cup, I bade adieu to my friends and set out on my journey. A tedious voyage of six months around Cape Horn had given me a peculiar relish for shore-life. There was something very pleasant in the novelty of the scenery and the inspiring freshness of the air. The rush of emigrants from all parts of the world; the amusing scenes along the road; the free, social, and hopeful spirit which prevailed among all classes; the clear, bright sky, and wonderful richness of coloring that characterized the atmosphere, all contributed to produce the most agreeable sensations. It was a long and rather hazardous journey I had undertaken, and it would doubtless be very lonesome after passing San Jose; but the idea of depending solely on my own resources, and becoming, in some sort, an adventurer in an almost unknown country, had something in it irresistibly captivating to one of my roving disposition. I had traveled through Texas under nearly similar circumstances, and enjoyed many pleasant recollections of the trip. There is a charm about this wild sort of life, the entire freedom from restraint, the luxury of fresh air, the camp under the trees, with a bright fire and a canopy of stars overhead, that, once experienced, can never be forgotten.
Nothing of importance occurred till the evening of the fourth day. I met crowds of travelers all along the road, singing and shouting in sheer exuberance of spirit; and not unfrequently had some very pleasant and congenial company, bound either to the mines or in search of vacant government land for the location of claims. The road through the valleys of Santa Clara and San Jose was perfectly enchanting, winding through oak groves, and fields of wild oats and flowers; and nothing couldexceed the balminess of the air. Indeed, the whole country seemed to me more like a succession of beautiful parks, in which each turn of the road might bring in view some elegant mansion, with sweeping lawns in front, and graceful ladies mounted on palfreys, than a rude and uncivilized part of the world hitherto almost unknown.
I stopped a night at San Jose, where I was most hospitably received by the alcalde, an American gentleman of intelligence, to whom I had a letter of introduction. Next day, after a pleasant ride of forty-five miles, I reached the Mission of San Juan, one of the most eligibly located of all the old missionary establishments. It was now in a state of decay. The vineyards were but partially cultivated, and the secos, or ditches for the irrigation of the land, were entirely dry. I got some very good pears from the old Spaniard in charge of the mission—a rare luxury after a long sea-voyage. The only tavern in the place was the "United States," kept by an American and his wife in an old adobe house, originally a part of the missionary establishment. Having secured accommodations for my mule, I took up my quarters for the night at the "United States." The woman seemed to be the principal manager. Perhaps I might have noticed her a little closely, since she was the only white woman I had enjoyed the opportunity of conversing with for some time. It was very certain, however, that she struck me as an uncommon person—tall, raw-boned, sharp, and masculine—with a wild and piercing expression of eye, and a smile singularly startling and unfeminine. I even fancied that her teeth were long and pointed, and that she resembled a picture of an ogress I had seen when a child. The man was a subdued and melancholy-looking person, presenting no particular trait of character in his appearance save that of general abandonment to the influence of misfortune. His dress and expression impressed me with the idea that he had experienced much trouble, without possessing that strong power of recuperation so common among American adventurers in California.
It would scarcely be worth while noticing these casual acquaintances of a night, since they have nothing to do with my narrative, but for the remarkable illustration they afford of the hardships that were encountered at that time on the emigrant routes to California. In the course of conversation with the man, I found that he and his wife were among the few survivors of a party whose terrible sufferings in the mountains during the past winter had been the theme of much comment in the newspapers. He did not state—what I already knew from the published narrative of their adventures—that the woman had subsisted for some time on the dead body of a child belonging to one of the party. It was said that the man had held out to the last, and refused to participate in this horrible feast of human flesh.
So strangely impressive was it to be brought in direct contact with a fellow-being, especially of the gentler sex, who had absolutely eaten of human flesh, that I could not but look upon this woman with a shudder. Her sufferings had been intense; that was evident from her marked and weather-beaten features. Doubtless she had struggled against the cravings of hunger as long as reason lasted. But still the one terrible act, whether the result of necessity or insanity, invested her with a repellant atmosphere of horror. Her very smile struck me as the gloating expression of a cannibal over human blood. In vain I struggled against this unchristian feeling. Was it right to judge a poor creature whose great misfortune was perhaps no offense against the laws of nature? She might be the tenderest and best of women—I knew nothing of her history. It was a pitiable case. But, after all, she had eaten of human flesh; there was no getting over that.
When I sat down to supper this woman was obliging enough to hand me a plate of meat. I was hungry, and tried to eat it. Every morsel seemed to stick in my throat. I could not feel quite sure that it was what it seemed to be. The odor even disgusted me. Nor couldI partake of the bread she passed to me with any more relish. It was probably made by her hands—the same hands that had torn the flesh from a corpse and passed the reeking shreds to her mouth. The taint of an imaginary corruption was upon it.
The room allotted to me for the night was roughly furnished, as might reasonably be expected; but, apart from this, the bedding was filthy; and, in common with every thing about the house, the slatternly appearance of the furniture did not tend to remove the unpleasant impression I had formed of my hostess. Whether owing to the vermin, or an unfounded suspicion that she might become hungry during the night, I slept but little. The picture of the terrible ogress that I had seen when a child, and the story of the little children which she had devoured, assumed a fearful reality, and became strangely mingled in my dreams with this woman's face. I was glad when daylight afforded me an excuse to get up and take a stroll in the fresh air.
THE MIRAGE.
After an early breakfast, I mounted my mule and pursued my journey over the pass of the San Juan. The view from the summit was magnificent. Beyond a range of sand-hills toward the right stretched the great Pacific. Ridges of mountains, singularly varied in outline, swept down in front into the broad valley of the Salinas. The pine forests of Monterey and Santa Cruz were dimly perceptible in the distance; and to the left was a wilderness of rugged cliffs, as far as the eye could reach, weird and desolate as a Cape Horn sea suddenly petrified in the midst of a storm. Descending through a series of beautiful little valleys clothed in a golden drapery of wild oats, and charmingly diversified with groves of oakand sycamore, and rich shrubbery of ceonosa, hazel, and wild grape, I at length entered the great valley of the Salinas, nine miles from the Mission of San Juan. At that time innumerable herds of cattle covered the rich pastures of this magnificent valley; and although there are still many to be seen there, the number has been greatly reduced during the last ten years. A large portion of the country bordering on the Salinas River, as far south as the Mission of Soledad, has been cut up into small ranches and farms; and thriving settlements and extensive fields of grain are now to be seen where formerly ranged wild bands of cattle, mustang, and innumerable herds of antelope.
Pass of San JuanPASS OF SAN JUAN.
PASS OF SAN JUAN.
Turning to the southward, and keeping in view the two great ranges of mountains which were the chief landmarks in former times, the scene that lay outspread before me resembled rather some wild region of enchantment than any thing that could be supposed to exist in a material world—so light and hazy were the distant mountains, so vaguely mingled the earth and sky, so rich and fanciful the atmospheric tints, and so visionary the groves that decorated the plain. Never before had I witnessed the mirage in the full perfection of its beauty. The whole scene was transformed into a series of magnificent optical illusions, surpassing the wildest dreams of romance. Points of woodland, sweeping from the base of the mountains far into the valley, were reflected in mystic lakes. Herds of cattle loomed up on the surface of the sleeping waters like miniature fleets of vessels with variegated sails. Mounds of yellow sand, rising a little above the level of the plain, had all the effect of rich Oriental cities, with gorgeous palaces of gold, mosques, and minarets, and wondrous temples glittering with jewels and precious stones. Bands of antelope coursed gracefully over the foreground; but so light and vaguely defined were their forms that they seemed rather to sail through the air than touch the earth. By the illusory process of the refraction, they appeared to sweep into thelakes and assume the forms of aerial boats, more fanciful and richly colored than the caïques of Constantinople. Birds, too, of snowy plumage, skimmed over the silvery waste; and islands that lay sleeping in the glowing light were covered with myriads of water-fowl. A solitary vulture, sitting upon the carcass of some dead animal a few hundred yards off, loomed into the form of a fabulous monster of olden times, with a gory head, and a beak that opened as if to swallow all within his reach. Thesewonderful features in the scene were continually changing: the lakes disappeared with their islands and fleets, and new lakes, with still stranger and more fantastic illusions, merged into existence out of the rarefied atmosphere. Thus hour after hour was I beguiled on my way through this mystic region of enchantment.
Antelope in the MirageANTELOPE IN THE MIRAGE.
ANTELOPE IN THE MIRAGE.
Toward evening I reached the Salinas River, where I stopped to rest and water my mule. A Spanish vaquero, whom I found under the trees enjoying the siesta to which that race are addicted, informed me that it was "Dos leguos, poco mas o meno," to Soledad. As he lived there, he would show me the way. It was inhabited by the Sobranis family, and they owned sixteen square leagues of land and "muchos granada." This much I contrived to understand; but when I handed the vaquero a fine Principe cigar, and he took a few whiffs and became eloquent, I entirely lost the train of his observations. It is possible he may have been reciting a poem on pastoral life. At all events, we jogged along very sociably, and in something over an hour reached the mission.
Vulture in the MirageVULTURE IN THE MIRAGE.
VULTURE IN THE MIRAGE.
A more desolate place than Soledad can not well be imagined. The old church is partially in ruins, and the adobe huts built for the Indians are roofless, and the walls tumbled about in shapeless piles. Not a tree or shrub is to be seen any where in the vicinity. The ground is bare, like an open road, save in front of the main building (formerly occupied by the priests), where the carcasses and bones of cattle are scattered about, presenting a disgusting spectacle. But this is a common sight on the Spanish ranches. Too lazy to carry the meat very far, the rancheros generally do their butchering in front of the door, and leave the Indians and buzzards to dispose of the offal.