Out of Doors--California and Oregon | Page 5

the Northwest, hunting and trapping. He was
an excellent shot with both rifle and shotgun. Notwithstanding the fact
that he was slightly afflicted with a nervous disorder akin to palsy,
which kept his left arm and hand, when not in use, constantly shaking,
the moment he drew up his gun, his nerves were steady, and his aim
perfect. He despised the modern breech-loading rifle, and insisted on
shooting an old-fashioned, muzzle-loading, single-barrel rifle, made by
a fellow townsman, Henry Slaughterbach. It was an exceedingly
accurate and powerful shooting gun. Chauvin was a thorough hunter,
well versed in woodcraft, up in camp equipage and the requirements of
men on a two or three weeks' hunting trip.
Off in the Dust.
During the summer of 1876 I had been hard at work. The weather had
been hot and trying. In the latter part of September, Mr. Chauvin
proposed that I go with him on a deer hunt to the Liebre Ranch. I was

practicing law, and after consulting my partners, I eagerly consented to
accompany him. He made all the preparations. On the 30th of
September he started a two-horse wagon, loaded with most of our outfit,
on ahead, in charge of a roustabout. On October 2nd, we followed in a
light one-horse wagon, taking with us our blankets, a few provisions
and a shotgun. We had a hard time pulling over the grade beyond San
Fernando, but finally made it. We went on past Newhall, and camped
the first night on the bank of the Santa Clara River.
Without the slightest trouble we killed, within a very few minutes,
enough quail for supper and breakfast. After we had finished our
evening meal, quite a shower came up very suddenly. Just enough rain
fell to make things sticky and disagreeable. The clouds vanished and
left as beautiful a starlit sky as any human being ever enjoyed. Our
wagon had a piece of canvas over it, which shed the rain, and left the
ground beneath the wagon dry. Upon this spot we spread our blankets
and went to sleep. Next morning the sun got up, hot, red and ugly
looking. We breakfasted, hitched up and started up San Francisquito
Canyon. Chauvin remarked we were in for a hot day, and he proved a
good prophet. There wasn't a breath of wind stirring as the day
progressed. The heat fairly sizzled. A goodly part of the road was well
shaded. We were loath to leave the shady spots when we came to the
open places. To lighten our load we walked most of the way. We
stopped for lunch, fed and rested our weary animal, and just at dark
after a weary afternoon's work we reached Elizabeth Lake, where we
overtook the other wagon. We had been two full days on the road. I
have made the same trip in an automobile two summers in succession,
in less than four hours.
In Antelope Country.
On leaving Elizabeth Lake next morning we transferred everything of
any weight from our wagon to the larger one, which made the going
much easier for our animal. We descended the hill beyond the lake,
went up the valley a few miles, and then cut straight across to a point
near where Fairmont is now situated. Chauvin said he wanted to get an
antelope before going after the deer. We crossed the valley into some
low, rolling hills and camped on a small stream called Rock Creek.
Chauvin said this was a great place for antelope. The horses were
picketed out on a grassy cienega, which offered them pretty good feed.

We got our supper, made camp and went to bed.
During the night a wind began to blow from the northwest, and in a few
hours it had become a hurricane. Small stones were carried by it like
grains of sand. They would pelt us on the head as we lay in our
blankets. We could hear the stones clicking against the spokes of the
wagon wheels. Great clouds, of dust would obscure the sky. By
morning the velocity of the wind was terrific. Our horses, driven frantic,
had broken loose and disappeared. We could not make a fire, nor if we
had had one could we have cooked anything, for the dirt that filled the
air. For breakfast we ate such things as we had prepared. The
roustabout started off trailing the horses. Chauvin and I sat around
under a bank, blue and disconsolate.
About 11 o'clock we saw a great band of antelope going to water. They
were coming up against the wind, straight to us. When fully half a mile
away they scented us and started off in a circle to strike the creek above
us. We put off after them, following up the creek bed. They beat