1895 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



519 



RAMBLE 135. 



OFF FOR KUREKA. 



By Rambler: 



spentSiinday in 

 Blocksb urg h : 

 and though it is 

 a town of about 

 :iOO population, 

 and has a thriv- 

 ing school of 

 about 100 schol- 

 ars, there are 

 no gospel ser- 

 vices, no Sun- 

 day-school, no 

 ; church. The 

 sto.res were 

 open, and seem- 

 ed to do a thriving business during the day, 

 and from early morn until late at night the two 

 saloons were well patronized. During our so- 

 journ in town we noticed one citizen in particu- 

 lar who was a daily patron of the saloon. He 

 was at one time a large owner of land, sheep, 

 and a squaw; he had reformed from his squaw 

 condition, married a white woman, and now 

 had a family of four blight children. Hard 

 times came knocking at his door, and a mort- 

 gage upon his properly had caused a relapse of 

 his .moral condition, and the cup was his daily 

 solace. R<'sult. a careworn wife and shame- 

 faced children. The many elegancies in the 

 home gave evidence of a woman of taste and 

 culture; the piano stood unopened; there was 

 dust upon the music-rack; no merry songs as- 

 cended from that home now. It was tears and 

 moans and prayers. The house could not have 

 been more sad with crape on the door. Every 

 day at about noon the father returned from the 

 saloon, blear-eyed, unsteady of step, and maud- 

 lin of speech; and he spent the afternoon in 

 drunken lethargic sleep. Thus again a bitter 

 picture of the rum-traffic thrusts itself upon 

 our attention. Perhaps a little church here, a 

 little Sunday-school, a little exhortation, a lit- 

 tle prayer, even If it save not the father, would 

 save the sons from the ruin-strewn path of the 

 drunkard. 



Another character appeared upon the streets 

 one morning. He was a tall spare man— a long 

 old-fashioned muzzle-loading shotgun in his 

 hand. He said he was a bummer by trade, but 

 just now he was acting as a guide to a party of 

 hunters bound for Mad River. He was known 

 as " Dad," and it was " Dad, shall I do this ? " 

 or "Dad. shall I do that?" He was the most 

 thoroughly daddied man I ever met. He had 

 no end to deer and bear stories. His gun, his 

 pack mule, and his little dog, were all special 

 favorites. The last glimpse of his outfit was 

 ■when the whole party marched jauntily into 



the forest, confidently expecting to return with 

 a ton of jerked venison. 



The climate and capabilities of this portion 

 of California found a staunch advocate in the 

 doctor and druggist. The very best of apples 

 and pears can be grown here. Apple-trees, five 

 years after planting, would yield five barrels of 

 fruit, so the doctor stated; and the pears grown 

 here are immense and luscious. The doctor 

 believed the apple would eventually prove more 

 profitable here than the orange in the south. 

 He desired to make an impression upon us, for 

 he evidently thought we three would make 

 thrifty settlers. The old-timers there were too 

 lazy to work; and when they wanted meat all 

 they had to do was to go out into the brush and 

 shoot a deer or a wild hog. Game of all kinds 

 abounds— quail almost in town; rabbits plenti- 

 ful. Any bee-keeper wishing to keep bees in a 

 small way, and live a retired life, can here find 

 just what he wants, and land at S3.00 per acre. 



We three finally bade the doctor, the shoe- 

 maker, the blacksmith, and Mayor Block, good- 

 by, and next camped upon Van Deusen River. 

 When we arose in the morning, Bro. Pryal was 

 missing. We knew where to find him, however; 

 for out in the middle of the river, mounted on 

 a rock, with pole in hand, in that favorite po- 

 sition of his; and how patient, and how satis- 

 fied — with bites' 



We three are now passing rapidly toward 

 Eureka, on Humboldt Bay; and what a grand 

 drive among the mountains and the redwoods! 

 We might say fifty miles of forests. Of course, 

 there was now and then a space of brush, or a 

 stage station, or a lone ranch; but now we 

 came to the dense redwood forest, and for 

 twelve miles we were overshadowed by the im- 

 mense trees— trees fifteen feet in diameter; tall 

 trees 1.50 and 200 feet or more. We three trav- 

 eled leisurely, and stopped often to admire the 

 forest. Now and then there would be a little 

 break in the forest, and a wood-chopper's cabin 

 or a place to make s|)lit shakes would appear. 



" DAD." 



We were told by the shoemaker, that, no matter 

 how hot the weather ouiside the forest, we 

 would put on our overcoats when we had got- 

 ten into it. The tops of the trees were so far 



