Sixty Years of California Song | Page 8

eighteen inches deep and there was no food for the cattle. After going a mile further the cow gave out. That left us without any means to haul the wagons. Father left his wagon and we packed our goods on a horse, this being the only animal remaining in father's possession. We were compelled to leave many useful things behind. Father's feet were frozen at this place and we were obliged to cut off his boots to assist him out of his misery. Our sufferings were great and we nearly froze on the trail. We kept going at a slow pace and with great difficulty until we passed the snow belt, and when we came to the green fields or plains our joy knew no bounds. But misfortune overtook us here, for we turned our horse out with the cattle and that was the last we ever saw of him. We came at last to Cottonwood Springs and we camped there for two days to let the remaining cattle rest and eat of herbage.
"In the evening of the second day we started to cross the great desert. We succeeded in crossing by midnight and reached the mountains on the other side. I was so tired I fell asleep beside the trail. The team passed me as I slept. I did not awaken until 2 in the morning. I followed the trail and found the team, a distance of four or five miles ahead of where I took the nap. On reaching camp, father and the company were anxiously awaiting me. We rested for the night. Next morning we started through a deep canyon which eventually opened into a beautiful valley where we saw houses made of adobe. The fields were covered with cattle. This was the first civilization we saw since leaving Salt Lake. Starvation had almost overtaken us and we besought the owner to sell us an ox and we had a feast and appeased our hunger. We had lost all accounting of time until we came here. We camped for the night, and next morning we started for Los Angeles. We arrived there November 18, 1849. The Spaniards had taken a strong liking toward father and wanted to make him their Alcalde, but he refused the honor and told them he had come to preach the gospel and had to go further. On his going they presented him with a fine horse and saddle as a token of their esteem for him. At that time Los Angeles had only a few adobe houses and a Catholic mission. Commodore Stockton had dug trenches around the place as a means of defense. We slowly wended our way for another month when we met a man who had bought a thousand head of cattle. He told father he could earn his way up the coast by helping drive the cattle, but he was not able to do this spirited work, so father and son exchanged places. Father turned the horse over to me and he drove the supply wagon. For the first time in my life I was a real cowboy.
"We followed the coast through Santa Clara and Santa Cruz, crossing over to Livermore and San Joaquin valley, this being the end of the cattle drive. Here we were paid and dismissed and our employer said we were about forty miles from Stockton and about the same distance from the mines. We plodded slowly along, following up the Stanislaus river. The first place we reached having a name was Knight's Ferry. We were out of money and clothes when we arrived at this place. The ferryman took us across without pay and bade us remain all night. Up to this time we wore buckskin trousers. I went out hunting and the rain came down in torrents and my trousers got drenched. They stretched so long I cut them off so I could walk. When they dried they had shrunken above my knees. At this place we met Mr. Dent, a brother-in-law of General Grant. With him also was a Mr. Vantine. When these men saw the unfortunate condition we were in, they gave us each a pair of overalls and a hat. So we were once more a little more civilized and passable. On our way up the coast we encountered a heavy storm. We had prepared to camp under a fine tree, but a large dead limb hung directly over us. I told father that we had better move as there was danger. But he thought it safe to remain where we were. But I insisted that we move, and finally he listened to my pleadings and we each took an end of the bed and lifted it over to the other side of the tree, away from the dead