The land of gold; or, Three years in CaliforniaColton, Walter
History
The land of gold; or, Three years in California
Colton, Walter
California -- Gold discoveries; California -- History -- 1846-1850
For a person who has been but a few months in a man-of-war, and never
been at sea in any other situation, to attempt to enlighten the public
on the discipline of the navy, or any of the duties which belong on
board ship, is an exhibition of impertinent vanity. He has no practical
knowledge of the subjects upon which he is delivering his sage lecture.
He has a certain theory with which he proposes to test the wisdom or
folly, the humanity or cruelty, of every thing in the service; and when
this theory gets snagged, which is often the case, he is for rooting out
the whole concern. He don’t reflect that his land theory is as much out
of its element at sea as a stranded porpoise would be out of his. All
the habits and usages of a man-of-war, are heaven wide of those which
obtain on land. They require rules and regulations suited to their
genius. Reforms must necessarily be of slow growth; they must take root
in the service itself, and not in the novelties of any land theory.
THURSDAY, OCT. 28. The king of all field-sports in California is the
bear-hunt: I determined to witness one, and for this purpose joined a
company of native gentlemen bound out on this wild amusement. All were
well mounted, armed with rifles and pistols, and provided with lassoes.
A ride of fifteen miles among the mountain crags, which frown in stern
wildness over the tranquil beauty of Monterey, brought us to a deserted
shanty, in the midst of a gloomy forest of cypress and oak. In a break
of this swinging gloom lay a natural pasture, isled in the centre by a
copse of willows and birch, and on which the sunlight fell. This, it was
decided, should be the arena of the sport: a wild bullock was now shot,
and the quarters, after being trailed around the copse, to scent the
bear, were deposited in its shade. The party now retired to the shanty,
where our henchman tumbled from his panniers several rolls of bread, a
boiled ham, and a few bottles of London porter. These discussed, and our
horses tethered, each wrapped himself in his blanket, and with his
saddle for his pillow, rolled down for repose.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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