40 A CALIFORNIA TRAMP. 



the earth is spaded away front of the wheels, the wagon is partly 

 unloaded, and the long, double file of oxen, almost exhausted 

 by their previous efforts, is placed in the shape of the letter 

 S. The wagon must now come or the tongue pull out. Again 

 the whips fly, the wheel men tug, the drivers shout, and the 

 S straightens to an I with a semblance to a " sickening thud." 

 A moment of suspense and the wheels slowly raise from their 

 deep imbedment, and the wagon moves to dry land. The suc- 

 ceeding wagons move over a more judiciously selected route, 

 and at the shout " Roll on ! " the leading wagons are on their 

 way. 



From the hardships we went through one would suppose that 

 our noon halts would be wholly for rest, but such would not 

 always be the case. Quarrels would ensue on the drive, or 

 when in difficulties, the lie would be given, or vile epithets 

 used. Then would follow threats of a " licking " at the noon 

 corral. At the latter verbal hostilities would be continued, 

 when cries of " Fight it out !" would come from the unkempt 

 crowd attracted to the spot. The disputants would be two mad 

 Missourians, perhaps, big, dirty and long-haired. Obeying the 

 command, at it they would go like a brace of giants. It was 

 kick and strike — whether above or below the belt, no matter — 

 and gouge and pull hair, until one or the other howled enough. 

 These doings were so natural a sequence to our mode of life 

 that no one was shocked at them, particularly as the contest- 

 ants soon " made up." Despite their brutishness there was a 

 grotesqueness about the affair, which excites a smile even at 

 this late day. There seemed the necessity of a vent for the 

 combative nature of these rugged fellows, and these fights 

 furnished it. 



The fight is over, our dinners finished, and the herds, their 

 appetites satisfied also, driven in and yoked up ; we are again 

 on our way. The roads, perhaps, are good, and the afternoon 



