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
THURSDAY, APRIL 27. Thom. Cole, whose moral vision could never yet
discover any difference between possession and ownership, where a horse
was concerned, was brought before me this morning, mounted on a fleet
steed belonging to a citizen of the town. He had removed the brand of
the rightful owner and substituted his own; but the disguise was easily
penetrated, and the horse identified. Thom. averred the horse was found
on his rancho; but he was ordered to deliver him to his proper owner,
who stood by to receive him. At this moment Thom. sprung into his saddle
and was off, horse and all, in the twinkling of an eye. I applied to
Gen. Mason for a file of soldiers; they were promptly ordered, and
stationed on the three streets, through one of which Thom. must make his
egress from town. He soon came sweeping on at the top of his speed, when
he suddenly found three muskets levelled at him, with an order to
dismount. There was no discharge in that war, and down he jumped, and
was soon delivered over to me. How changed! a moment before setting the
whole world at defiance; and now praying to be saved from the fleas of
the prison. As the flea could only punish him without benefiting the
town, I determined to reach him through another channel, by which both
purposes should be answered; and fined him fifty dollars for contempt of
court. So Thom. lost his horse and fifty dollars, and got a lesson of
humiliation which quelled his spirit like a wet blanket thrown on a
flaxen flame.
TUESDAY, MAY 2. I was roused from my sleep last night by a loud, hurried
knocking at my door, and a voice exclaiming, “Alcalde, alcalde!” On
reaching the door I found there a young Mexican, the clerk of a store
near by, without hat or shoes, and only a blanket wrapped around him. He
told me the volunteers had broken into his store, and were robbing the
money-chest. By this time my constable was up, and, throwing on our
clothes, we hastened with the clerk to his store; but not a human being
was to be seen. He showed us the bolt that had been forced, the chest
that had been broken, the pistol that he had snapped, and the wound that
he had received on the head. I sent the constable to the captain of the
volunteers, who immediately searched his quarters, where he found every
man in his berth, except those on guard. With these unsatisfactory
results I returned to my office and bed, and directed the constable to
keep an eye on the clerk.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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