234 A CALIFORNIA TRAMP. 



^' Mucho terrano/^^ and the oxen fell faint in the furrow. We 

 had now broken a hundred acres of land, eleven horses and 

 four oxen, and we thought it time to stop. The wheat had 

 been sown and harrowed in between the blows, and turning 

 the oxen loose to keep the horses company, we turned our 

 attention to fence building. We used redwood for posts and 

 sawed rails of Oregon pine for nailing on them. The posts 

 had been previously sharpened, and were to be driven into 

 the ground. Into the mystery of this I was soon introduced. 

 Mounted on a high, clumsy stool it was my painful duty to 

 pound with a "pepper-wood" maul, the size of a nail keg, on 

 the top of the post, which Don Pedro steadied. This was a 

 little monotonous, not to say tiresome. The good Don Pedro 

 never "spelled" me; instead, he would look inquiringly at me 

 whenever my catapult ceased its vibrations. In fact it was an 

 injured look, and, I am sorry to say, I was sometimes tempted 

 to mistake his head for the post-top. At first he would start a 

 hole with a crowbar, but afterwards, thinking he was humor- 

 ing me, he stopped that concession. We finished a mile of 

 fence and then quit. 



One of my morning duties was to haul water from a spring 

 three hundred yards off, for house use and for soaking barley 

 overnight for the horses. This I accomplished with my faith- 

 ful companion, Tom, hitched to a wooden sled, on which were 

 placed two barrels; these filled, I drew them up a steep hill. 

 Once I recollect my frail sled pulled apart and set the lading 

 to playing roley-boley to the bottom. I looked at them with 

 unenviable feelings, listening to the tantalizing "glug-glug" 

 the bung gave forth each revolution, Tom looking quietly on. 



The Patron alwaj^s routed us up before daylight after a night 

 which was always too short. I often thought of the miserable 

 negro slaves, who longed all day for night and sighed when the 

 morning came ! About an hour before daylight we would hear 

 the voice of the elder Patron penetrating the foggy air with fran- 



