B06 



FOREST AND STREAM. 



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tortBtqm ^[mri$L 



Address (til communications to the Forest and Streum Publish- 

 ing Co. 



SPORT IN THE SIERRAS. 



I WAS worn out with bodily illness and professional 

 labors. No boy ever went to bed with more eager an- 

 ticipations of a promised holiday than I did on the evening 

 of July 25. 1884. The next rnoruing saw us up at 3 o'clock, 

 for an early ride. It Is to be no easy trip by train or 

 steamer that lies ahead, but a ride of eigbty miles over a 

 rough and mountainous road, on horsehack, and part of the 

 way in a busrgy. In a short time my team is ready, impedi- 

 menta loaded, and the start made. I have taken as a com- 

 panion a young man, also in need of rest and recreation, and 

 who is subsequently named the "Terror of the Sierras," 

 through waggish ness, owing to his mild manners and non- 

 aggressiveness. For thirty miles we plod through the dust 

 and the ever-increasing heat, as the sun mounts the sky. 

 Two immense canons have to be crossed, which makes it 

 slow traveling, and it is past noon when we pull up for rest 

 and refreshment at an Old and still prosperous mining town, 

 where we conclude to lie over until the cool of the ensuing 

 morning. 



A good night's rest freshens us up, and after an early 

 breakfast another start is made, and the ascent of the moun- 

 tains begins. The road we are to take from this point is one 

 which, during the period previous to the completion of the 

 C. P. Railway over the mountains, was one of the main ar- 

 teries of communication between the States of California 

 and Nevada. The grade is an easy one, the roadbed was 

 thoroughly built, and in those booming times was as busy as 

 an ant trail. Evidences of a prosperous past still exist at 

 nearly every step of the. way in the shape of rotting fences 

 and corrals, the denuded frames of buildings and solid rock 

 chimneys, making the site where many a weary traveler 

 rested and refreshed himself in the cheerful warmth cast 

 forth by its yawning mouth, which now stands desolate, black 

 and cold, with the weeds springing from its once hospitable 

 hearth. It made me melancholy to pass so many places 

 where dead and gone thrift and prosperity lay buried, and 

 and to give a sigh of regret that the glorious old days of the 

 eight-horse coaches had passed away, and that the stages 

 would never more be seen dashing down these mountain 

 slopes, with the foam tossing from the horses' sides, and a 

 cloud of dust streaming away into the distance in the rear, 

 and that never again would the merry jingle of the bells of 

 the eight and ten mule teams arouse the echoes in these 

 jagged cliffs. At the present time there are only some five 

 or six houses on fifty miles of the road, where formerly they 

 would average one to the mile. A bi-weekly two horse stage 

 now suffices to carry the mail and travelers, and two horse 

 freight wagons, conveying fruit into Nevada, constitute all 

 the heavy traffic. Cattle and sheep in great numbers pass 

 up the road to pasturage every spring - , and back to the val- 

 ley every autumn. One relic of old times remains in all its 

 perennial freshness, and that is the tolls. About every ten 

 miles there is a toll-house, at which one has to pay a dollar 

 for a horse and buggy, and one dollar and a half for two 

 horses. This tariff is "calculated to make one's pocket tired 

 before the journey ends. 



Up and up, steadily we climb the grade. A new forest 

 growth has succeeded that of the lower slopes. Sugar pine, 

 spruce and cedar have supplanted the nut pine, the oak and 

 the buckeye; while monzanita and mountain birch form the 

 chapparal, instead of the greasewood and lascara, while 

 patches, acres in extent, are covered with t; e wild plum and 

 the bitter cherry. The road for miles ascends a long ridge 

 or spur, thickly covered with this forest growth, within 

 which lurks many a shy, wild creature. Every few paces 

 we go we see a spurt of dust in the road ahead, marking 

 the spot where a ground squirrel skurries away to his 

 burrow. 



The echoes resound to the call of the mountain quail, and 

 through the shadows on either hand a little observation will 

 reveal the long, graceful leaps of the gray squirrel. Then, 

 just as you pass the large pine, an insulting and mocking cry 

 of "pil-il-loo eet" marks the presence of the Douglass pine 

 squirrel. If you stop and glance upward you will probably 

 see him, fifteen or twenty feet above your head, flattened out 

 against the bark and hanging head downward. If you watch 

 him a short time he will give his tail a flirt of derision, and 

 scramble up to the nearest branch, where he will perch him- 

 self and scold you in the choicest billingsgate; jerking his 

 tail to and fro at every sound he utters. Many a half hour 

 have I spent watching the antics of these pert creatures and 

 exciting them to louder scoldings by mocking at them. It 

 is only in the mountains, where the Douglass pine abounds, 

 that this squirrel is found, as it is upon the seeds contained 

 in the cones of this species of pine that it subsists. 



What are those little flitting shadows passing over fallen 

 log and blackened stump? Surely thoy must be chipmunks, 

 those striped pets of our childhood's days in the old home 

 at the East. Yes, that is just what they are and they may be 

 seen in thousands after an elevation of 3,000 feet has been 

 passed, although hardly ever observed any lower. Now, 

 glance at the dust by the roadside, and it will reveal how 

 near must be many a shy denizen of these forests which our 

 eye seldom rests upon. Observe that large track somewhat 

 resembling the impression left by a naked human foot? That 

 is where bruin crossed last night in his nocturnal wander- 

 ings. And close by is another but smaller track, very 

 similar in shape, but with the toes spreading more! There 

 the sly coon has passed, sniffing along in his quest of some 

 poor quail's nest to furnish him a meal. Then, coming out 

 of that opening in the brushwood and pursuing the middle 

 of the road are some sharp-toed hoof-prints, with similar 

 miniature impressions upon each side, revealing where a doe 

 and her fawns moved leisurely along in the cool of the 

 morning. And all along the way the observant eye will note 

 the light impressions left by hare and cotton-tail, by fox and 

 lynx, and now and then the dog-like track of the cowardly 

 co vote. But hark that sharp cry of agony! Surely some 

 forest tragedy is being enacted. Yes; for right in front of 

 our horse jumps out a gray fox, vigorously shaking the life 

 out of a ground squirrel which he had captured. He is so 

 busy with his prey that our presence is unnoticed until he 

 gains the middle of the road. The "Terror" gives him a 

 shot from a .22-caliber rihe, but overshoots, and he is out of 

 sight at one jump, carrying his dinner with him. 



At length we leave the ridge, up which we have been trav- 

 eling, and descend a deep canon by an easy grade, until we 

 reach the beautiful stream on the headwaters of which we 

 hope lo capture many a trout. Here at a clean and well- 



kept wayside inn we will rest for another night. After a 

 hearty dinner of chicken and stewed squirrel, I take my rod 

 tenderly out of the case in which it has rested so long, joint 

 it and attach the reel. Then making a careful selection for 

 a cast of flies, 1 wet my line for the first time in a year. An 

 hour's fishing, with several changes of flies and a single rise, 

 tells me that it is useless labor, so I give it up and put away 

 my tackle. There is too much snow water in the river for 

 fly-fishing. Besides that I am tired with my long ride, arid 

 prefer to sit still and drink in this health-laden mountair air 

 and admire the glories of the surrounding hills rather than 

 pursue what promises to be a fruitless toil. And so upon a 

 shady seat on the porch I sit and muse away the time, until 

 the chill of evening drives me to bed and a dreamless slumber. 



We are up and away again in the cool of the morning, 

 with our greatcoats closely buttoned, and a heavy lap robe 

 tucked around us for comfort, as the air coming down these 

 canons from the snowy peaks is always chilly. Our road 

 now follows the windings of the stream, at varying dis- 

 tances, now at its very side, where its rush and roar drowns 

 all other sounds, again, 400 feet above it upon the mountain 

 side, where its voice just reaches us as a grand sub bass to 

 the singing of the pines. Oh, how glorious is this morning's 

 ride in"the~heart of the Sierras! All care and weariness is 

 left behind, and our goal is fast coming into view, with its 

 blissful vista of four weeks' unalloyed pleasure spread out 

 before us. Already my chest expands with fuller and deeper 

 inspirations, my heart sends the vital fluid pulsing through 

 my frame with tingling joy, my eye brightens,, my nostrils 

 dilate to take in the health -giving air, and I am already a 

 new man. I am hungry— the first time that 1 have been 

 truly so for months. 



Very soon the snow-clad peaks begin to show above the 

 nearer mountains, and at last, about 11 A.M., we reach a 

 wider part of the canon, where a large arm enters it, and the 

 sublimity of these fine old mountains is borne fully in upon 

 us. Away to the front, to the right, to the left, they raise 

 their granite heads clad with unsullied snow. There are no 

 clouds to veil their dazzliug splendor, and the eye fairly 

 aches with their gleaming reflections. We both draw deep 

 breaths and sit in voiceless admiration, drinking in, with 

 greedy eyes, every detail of the view spread out before us. 

 At length our stomachs remind us that we arc but mortals, 

 and whipping up our somewhat jaded steed we arrive about 

 noon at our destination. We fiod it a clean and comfortable 

 little mountain hostelry, nestled in a romantic valley, with 

 the river brawling at its back, a few r yards away. Shutting 

 in the valley on the east and distant only a few score yards, 

 rises sheer into the air for 1,700 feet a bare and frowning 

 granite cliff. Tall pines upon its summit seem but shrubs, 

 and everything viewed against its background is dwarfed 

 into insignificance. Its crest stands 7,300 feet above the sea 

 level and commands a wide and magnificent view. Cliffs 

 also close the valley almost completely on the north, and on 

 the west it is backed by a sparsely timbered mountain ridge, 

 of the same elevation as the eastern wall, while on the south 

 it is open to a wider view. The stream at this point is only 

 distant some nine miles from its source in a little glacier lake 

 at the summit, and is not large in ordinary years, but a great 

 depth of snow having fallen the previous winter still kept it 

 at pretty high water, although it was now the end of July, 

 and in consequence we were informed that the fishing was 

 still poor. Aud now, having reached my destination, 1 will 

 defer until my next letter giving any of my experiences in 

 this thrice blessed spot, where all the pleasure of sport is 

 doubled and trebled by the novelty, grandeur and beauty of 

 the surroundings. Auefau, 



California. 



MORELIA. 



MORELIA is a town reached by a branch of the Mexican 

 National Railroad. Those gentlemen whose infirm- 

 ities forbid them to undertake original explorations can go 

 to Morelia in the humble sruise of tourists. There, if the 

 visitor has the stock of acrid criticism usual among my 

 countrymen, he will find that the common school system is 

 defective, that the pavements are lumpy, that shoes are ill- 

 made or too often lacking, that an absurd reverence is paid 

 to the hierarchy of a totferiug superstition, and that there is 

 no pie. To be sure, there are some native foods, notably 

 tortilla, that could wrestle with pie on its own ground, but 

 then tortilla is allotted to the sturdy stomach of the robust 

 laborer, while pie finds its insidious way into the homes of 

 our entire fifty millions of sovereigns. We will dismiss this 

 superior mood and travel- in the temper of philosophers, 

 citizens of the world, creatures whose stomachs are subordi- 

 nate even if inferior, and whose home-made tastes have lost 

 their early rigidity through a long course of enforced bend- 

 ing. It will' surprise vou perhaps to find out that there is a 

 lake of salt, or at least brackish, water forty miles or so in 

 length near the city of Morelia. The lake lies so modestly 

 curled up in its mountain nest that it has almost forgotten 

 to have a name. When one asks the natives along the shores 

 what the sheet of water is called, they tell you it is just "the 

 lake," but if pressed they may confess to some more proper 

 name. The proper name will, however, have to be thought 

 up on the spur of the moment., and the evidence varies as to 

 what it should be. The largest mass of testimony favors the 

 Laguna de Cur'seo. 



As we swept along the bank in the early evening one of 

 the first thunder storms of the season hung its black curtain 

 over the eastern sky. Soon the clouds had spread over the 

 whole heavens except a long thin strip in the western hor- 

 izon,where the setting sun blazed out behind the raindimmed 

 peaks. It seemed as if a light were streaming through the 

 cracks of heaven's ill-shut door. 



The next morning was clear. The bananas in the court 

 yard nodded to the mules tied along the wall to keep their 

 spirits up. At all hours of the day and many times in the 

 night I have had chances to watch the beasts fastened around 

 hotel courts and never have I had the fortune to see those 

 animals fed. Yet they look sleek, sometimes even vicious, 

 and they are groomed and watered as carefully as if their 

 hides were swelling with unstinted barley. Can it be that 

 the air is so bracing? A little way from the mules stood two 

 large dogs, about whose parentage we will not inquire too 

 closely, However base the breeding, mutual needs had 

 brought the dogs into friendly intelligence. Each was try- 

 ing to rid his neighbor of fleas, and with wrinkling noses 

 and flashing teeth they munched away to their common joy. 

 My companion tried to enter into relations with these ani- 

 mals and get them to perform similar services for him, but 

 they pretended not to understand and the bargain fell 

 through. 



The cathedral at Morelia is striking. The two corner 

 towers, though massive below are very tall and, by using 

 open arches for the higher stories, the builder gave his work 



a look of airy lightness. The low 7 nave stretches out behind 

 like the trailing skirt of a graceful woman. Inside the cathe- 

 dral, here as in the city of Mexico, the space is so cumbered 

 with subordinate structures that you lose the sense of im- 

 pressive size. First there is a choir that takes up nearly the 

 whole front of the nave, and at the further end rises a col 

 tanned dome, a chapel of expiation, I think. Far more 

 effective was the old church of San Francisco. 



We were loitering among the market booths on the plaza 

 on Monday morning when the throb of the organ caught our 

 ears. Within, beyond the kneeling crowd, rose gilded pil- 

 lars. Gold-coated priests stood with their backs to us, facing 

 the altar; the unbroken organ swell sweet strongly down the 

 narrow aisle, and above, clear and full, rang the voices of 

 the choir boys. 



Division or labor here is brought about by dividing; a trade 

 into several branches, and having small, separate shops for 

 each. Saddlery proper is to be bought in "talabarterias," 

 while other leathern articles are for sale at "eorainbrerias." 

 I was looking for a tiger skin, but found in the latter stores 

 only the hides of wildcats, tigers being, dovoted to saddles 

 especially. 



Four kinds of cat furs are sold. The wildcat and moun- 

 tain lion we know at home. Then there is the tiger and the 

 winduri. The tiger has irregular, ring-like spots clustered 

 thickly upon the back, and spread out wider on the sides and 

 belly; the background for these spots being, in the best speci 

 mens, a very rich yellow. The winduri is much smaller, 

 and, though the spots are similar, the background is much 

 paler, having a washed-out look. 



They told me that the tigers came from the hot lands both 

 east and west, and always had the same figuring. I was 

 careful to ask, because I remember that long ago in Sonora 

 1 saw a tiger skin that, if my memory serves, was striped. 

 Possibly my recollection is at fault. At the best, it needs 

 confirming. 



One other child of nature that we know well, is at home 

 in Mexico; that is the 'possum. The little fellow I saw was 

 alive and kicking hard to get away from his captor. 



It is m.y usual custom to encourage national industries by 

 buying lottery tickets wdien the eoming drawing falls within 

 the time allotted to my stay. Why I should regard the date 

 of the drawing is not clear. I have always been a spoiled 

 Egyptian in these plays of chance and do not grudge the 

 contribution to native wealth, but that inconsistent desire 

 to be, so to speak, drawn out of my money with regular and 

 accustomed ceremonies still stays by me. For tin's reason I 

 saved some expense in Morelia. The lotteries there were not 

 for benevolent purposes, though such schemes are common 

 enough (the benevolence being perhaps private), nor was 

 there any pretense of piousness, as in the church grab-bag 

 and strawberry festival, but religious feeling was sought to 

 be fostered by employing sacred names. 



As you entered the cigar shops, on the one hand hung 

 ample" posters offering opportunities in the "Loteria de la 

 Santissima Trinidad." On the other side were the lists of 

 prizes that had fallen to lucky ticket holders in the "Loteria 

 de la Divina Providencia." When Divine Providence and 

 the Most Holy Trinity are invoked to preside over the play 

 of fortune, what better guarantees can we ask? 



That, feelings of reverence are not blunted, however, by 

 this singular familiarity is clear. We stepped from the 

 tobacco shop and were walking up the plaza when I saw 

 a respectable gentleman on his knoes facing me. At first 

 it struck me that this must be a case of penance, but in a 

 moment more nearly all the passers-by and keepers of booths 

 had knelt, with their faces toward the same point. I turned 

 and saw vanishing around the corner the carriage of an 

 episcopal dignitary. I almost doubt whether that republi- 

 can skepticism which would level the altar and the throne, 

 is, in the world's present age, so equalizing, so humanizing, 

 as a common religion. Certainly there are here few evi- 

 dences of brotherhood more striking than the crowds kneel- 

 ing on the church pavement. Half naked, shoeless peons, 

 their backs still raw from their galling loads, miserably gaunt 

 women, and the intelligence and wealth of the town, such 

 as they are, all in the same posture of reverence, cross and 

 dot themselves with nimble, practiced fingers and bow sub 

 mission to a common God. 



It was the rainy season in Morelia when we were there, as 

 I have said, but the rain was very accommodating. In some 

 places it is said that the convenience of the people is con- 

 sulted, by having rain only nights and Sundays. In More- 

 lia we were even better treated, for Sunday being there a 

 festal day, the raiu was restricted to the nighLs, and we had 

 the chance on Sunday afternoon of enjoying the circus. The 

 performers were Mexicans, and gave a fair enough exhibi- 

 tion. The chief gem of the list was the feat of the circus 

 proprietor who exhibited, in quite a frightful costume, "the 

 vertiginous career of the Comanche Indian making use of 

 the idiom of his native wilds," and carried on unappeasable 

 war with the clown. The paltry tricks were amusing, but 

 you can find their equals in any county town. What was 

 exceptional was the character of the crowd and the building. 



The theater was meant for a bull-ring, and is still so used 

 except in the wet season. Around the spacious circle in the 

 center rises a masonary wall about six feet high, then stone 

 seats tiered up till on reaching a lofty terrace a row of Doric 

 columns supports the roof that slopes back to the outer wall. 

 Over the masonry is a coat of stucco that is painted a reddish 

 gray. The whole building is a model of stony graceful sim- 

 plicity, showing how true a taste has been exercised in 

 ministering to the people's pleasure. 



All around were men in hats that dazzled the sight with 

 their loads of bullion, and women in dresses that outshone 

 the glory of Solomon. Pale blue silks, grass green silks, 

 scarlet silks, spotted silks, every rainbow hue in silk or 

 velvet, or what to the untrained male eye resembled those 

 tissues. 



These refinements, however, were mostly in the reserved 

 places on the shady side. In the sun thronged the crowds 

 that paid one bit admission ; the unspoiled sons of the coun- 

 try, from the boys who bung their legs over the inner wall 

 to the women wrapped in ribozos that packed the upper 

 tiers. And here it was mostly the men who showed the 

 points of color. Scrapes striped and figured shimmered over 

 the whole mass, while the wealth of metal on the wide- 

 brimmed hats vied with that of their shady brethren. 



In the evening, as we lay at ease smoking in the breezy 

 windows, memories of olden time were stirred by the antique 

 melodies 'of II Bacio, played on a piano across the way. 

 Then the piano rested, and down the street, freshened by 

 ram. came the rhythmic beat of military music from the 

 Plaza de Armas, while ever and again, above the sounding 

 brags, clanged the mellow bells of the great cathedral. For 

 us it was a farewell strain, and in this harmony melted our 

 good-bye to the pearl of Mexico. H. G. Dolog 



