248 A CALIFORNIA TRAMP. 



brought home. Their creased backs and bent corners, when 

 I now look at them, remind me that the carpet-bag containing 

 them was long used as a pillow, a hard one albeit. 



Now well laden with clothing, bodily and mental, I left the 

 Cordelia House and was soon on my way down the valley to- 

 wards Benicia, where I arrived at sun-down. After supper I 

 walked out on the wharf to wait for the Sacramento steamer 

 to appear. I would like to have seen my clever ferryboat 

 captain to pay him my ferriage, but I saw nothing of him. I 

 have never paid him yet, but w^hen I go to California I will 

 hunt him up and give him principal and interest. He must 

 be nearing his centennial now. 



The steamer soon made its appearance through the gather- 

 ing night, screaming and asthmatic. It swung to, made a 

 short stop, and I boarded her. 



What a medley of passengers! Miners from the mountains 

 and plains; bowie-knived, pistoled and hirsute, but far more 

 peaceable than they looked ; merchants from the far inland 

 towns and Sacramento ; gamblers, gentlemanly and observant ; 

 slant-eyed Chinamen, with their long queues ; swarthy "greas- 

 ers" from the river ranches, and butternut-colored Indians; 

 all talking in their different tongues, and all bound for the 

 centre of the California social and commercial system — San 

 Francisco ! 



The boat moved slowly from the wind-swept wharf of Beni- 

 cia, and then plunged with clang of bell, shriek of whistle and 

 escape of steam through the inky waves and increasing gloom. 

 The style of travel I was now indulging in almost took my 

 breath with its luxuriance. This was not working my passage 

 across the plains, shouting myself hoarse at broken-down oxen. 

 It was not jolting over deserts in a springless wagon, or 

 tramping around hunting work and leading a semi-servile 

 life when I found it. Here was richness ! Cabin passage in 

 a " palatial " steamer, tinsel and gilding, curtains and mirrors 



