Dana, Richard Henry, 1815-1882; Sailors; Seafaring life; Voyages and travels
the sense that human beings were at my elbow, if not talking with
me-- since I had left home. My better nature returned strong upon
me. Everything was in accordance with my state of feeling, and I
experienced a glow of pleasure at finding that what of poetry and
romance I ever had in me had not been entirely deadened by the
laborious life, with its paltry, vulgar associations, which I had
been leading. Nearly an hour did I sit, almost lost in the luxury
of this entire new scene of the play in which I had been so long
acting, when I was aroused by the distant shouts of my companions,
and saw that they were collecting together, as the agent had made
his appearance, on his way back to our boat.
We pulled aboard, and found the long-boat hoisted out, and nearly
laden with goods; and, after dinner, we all went on shore in the
quarter-boat, with the long-boat in tow. As we drew in, we
descried an ox-cart and a couple of men standing directly on the
brow of the hill; and having landed, the captain took his way
round the hill, ordering me and one other to follow him. We
followed, picking our way out, and jumping and scrambling up,
walking over briers and prickly pears, until we came to the top.
Here the country stretched out for miles, as far as the eye could
reach, on a level, table surface, and the only habitation in sight
was the small white mission of San Juan Capistrano, with a few
Indian huts about it, standing in a small hollow, about a mile
from where we were. Reaching the brow of the hill, where the cart
stood, we found several piles of hides, and Indians sitting round
them. One or two other carts were coming slowly on from the
Mission, and the captain told us to begin and throw the hides
down. This, then, was the way they were to be got down,-- thrown
down, one at a time, a distance of four hundred feet! This was
doing the business on a great scale. Standing on the edge of the
hill, and looking down the perpendicular height, the sailors
``That walked upon the beach
Appeared like mice; and our tall anchoring bark
Diminished to her cock; her cock a buoy
Almost too small for sight.''
Down this height we pitched the hides, throwing them as far out
into the air as we could; and as they were all large, stiff, and
doubled, like the cover of a book, the wind took them, and they
swayed and eddied about, plunging and rising in the air, like a
kite when it has broken its string. As it was now low tide, there
was no danger of their falling into the water; and, as fast as
they came to ground, the men below picked them up, and, taking
them on their heads, walked off with them to the boat. It was
really a picturesque sight: the great height, the scaling of the
hides, and the continual walking to and fro of the men, who looked
like mites, on the beach. This was the romance of hide droghing!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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