Across The Plains | Page 3

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Across The Plains by Robert Louis Stevenson Scanned and proofed by
David Price [email protected] Second proof by Margaret Price.

Contents
I. Across The Plains II. The Old Pacific Capital III. Fontainebleau IV.
Epilogue to "An Inland Voyage" V. Random Memories VI. Random
Memories Continued VII. The Lantern-bearers VIII. A Chapter on
Dreams IX. Beggars X. Letter to a Young Gentleman XI. Pulvis et
Umbra XII. A Christmas Sermon
CHAPTER I
- ACROSS THE PLAINS

LEAVES FROM THE NOTEBOOK OF AN EMIGRANT BETWEEN
NEW YORK AND SAN FRANCISCO
MONDAY. - It was, if I remember rightly, five o'clock when we were

all signalled to be present at the Ferry Depot of the railroad. An
emigrant ship had arrived at New York on the Saturday night, another
on the Sunday morning, our own on Sunday afternoon, a fourth early
on Monday; and as there is no emigrant train on Sunday a great part of
the passengers from these four ships was concentrated on the train by
which I was to travel. There was a babel of bewildered men, women,
and children. The wretched little booking-office, and the baggage-room,
which was not much larger, were crowded thick with emigrants, and
were heavy and rank with the atmosphere of dripping clothes. Open
carts full of bedding stood by the half-hour in the rain. The officials
loaded each other with recriminations. A bearded, mildewed little man,
whom I take to have been an emigrant agent, was all over the place, his
mouth full of brimstone, blustering and interfering. It was plain that the
whole system, if system there was, had utterly broken down under the
strain of so many passengers.
My own ticket was given me at once, and an oldish man, who
preserved his head in the midst of this turmoil, got my baggage
registered, and counselled me to stay quietly where I was till he should
give me the word to move. I had taken along with me a small valise, a
knapsack, which I carried on my shoulders, and in the bag of my
railway rug the whole of BANCROFT'S HISTORY OF THE UNITED
STATES, in six fat volumes. It was as much as I could carry with
convenience even for short distances, but it insured me plenty of
clothing, and the valise was at that moment, and often after, useful for a
stool. I am sure I sat for an hour in the baggage- room, and wretched
enough it was; yet, when at last the word was passed to me and I picked
up my bundles and got under way, it was only to exchange discomfort
for downright misery and danger.
I followed the porters into a long shed reaching downhill from West
Street to the river. It was dark, the wind blew clean through it from end
to end; and here I found a great block of passengers and baggage,
hundreds of one and tons of the other. I feel I shall have a difficulty to
make myself believed; and certainly the scene must have been
exceptional, for it was too dangerous for daily repetition. It was a tight
jam; there was no fair way through the mingled mass of brute and

living obstruction. Into the upper skirts of the crowd porters, infuriated
by hurry and overwork, clove their way with shouts. I may say that we
stood like sheep, and that the porters charged among us like so many
maddened sheep- dogs; and I believe these men were no longer
answerable for their acts. It mattered not what they were carrying, they
drove straight into the press, and when they could get no farther,
blindly discharged their barrowful. With my own hand, for instance, I
saved the life of a child as it sat upon its mother's knee, she sitting on a
box; and since I heard of no accident, I must suppose that there were
many similar interpositions in the course of the evening. It will give
some idea of the state of mind to which we were reduced if I tell you
that neither the porter nor the mother