Oct. 8, 1904.] 
FOREST AND SI REAM 
299 
Santa Cruz* 
Out in the sea, some twenty-five, miles from the coast 
of southern California, lies a chain of islands: Santa 
Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz, and Santa Anacapa. 
The largest, and by far the most interesting of the 
four, Santa Cruz, is directly opposite the beautiful old 
town of Santa Barbara. It is about thirty miles m 
length and eight miles wide, and along its central por- 
tion rise some rugged brown peaks to an altitude of 
3,700 feet. Some of the mountain slopes are 
covered with fine pine forests, especially along the cen- 
tral portion of the island. On the western end there 
are groves of live oak and manzanita; the eastern part 
is a succession of grassy, rolling hills. 
Once upon a time a now extinct tribe of Indians 
owned Santa Cruz. For a very long time they had 
lived upon it, and defended it, repelling the attacks of 
tribes from the mainland and from other islands, too, 
perchance. All the surrounding tribes must have 
coveted it for its noble forests and the wealth of sea- 
food along its shores. 
But one day there came a new foe; these were men 
with bearded faces, and they sailed in large canoes 
with wings, and they had dreadful weapons, which 
neat little cottages. In front of these a grassy lawn 
slopes gently down to the edge of the cliffs. So one 
has here the bracing salt sea air and also the resinous 
odor of the pines. Moreover, the most timid may here 
make his bed close to mother earth, or confidently ex- 
plore the caves, the thickets, the nooks and crannies in 
the rocks, for no rattlesnake, nor scorpion, nor centi- 
pede has ever been found on the island. Neither are 
there any mosquitoes, nor other poisonous insects. The 
cactus flourishes here in places, and in this latitude, 
and even further north out on the plains, wherever this 
prickly plant is found the rattlesnake is also; why the 
reptile is not here with it is an interesting question. It 
is found on Catalina Island, and centipedes also, and 
that island is even further from the mainland than this 
one. Santa Cruz, however, impresses one as new land, 
a recent upheaval, geologically speaking; the soil is not 
deep, except where the shell heaps of the ancient in- 
habitants have turned it into a rich black earth. Most 
of the mountain peaks are bare, brown, volcanic rock; 
the east end is stratas of clay ' and sandstone. The 
pines are nowhere of more than a foot or eighteen 
inches in diameter, nor are there any old prostrate 
patriarchs such as we are accustomed to find in almost 
any wild forest. There is no trace of a fire ever having 
A SEAL' ROOKERY ON SANTA CRUZ ISLAND. 
belched fire and smoke with a noise like thunder. 
They came, however, under the guise of friendship, and 
persuaded the islanders to go with them to the main- 
land, where, it was promised, they should be protected 
from warring tribes, and live in peace and plenty. 
And so, the childlike people, having faith in the allur- 
ing inducements set forth, forsook the home of their 
ancestors. But alas! for the promises; no sooner were 
they settled under the shelter of the long-robed men 
than thev were made to toil with heavy implements m 
the hot sun, and to worship strange gods, and to do 
many irksome things for which nature had never fitted 
them. And did any rebel at this treatment, they were 
taken in one of the winged canoes back to the island 
and landed in a harbor, which their masters named 
Prisoners' Bay; to this day the lovely cove bears that 
ominous name. But it was only men who were thus 
marooned; and, longing for their wives and children, 
heart-sick and in despair, they pined away and died. 
And those on the mainland also dwindled away. Year 
by year their numbers became less, until finally the very 
last one lay down and breathed no more. Do their 
shades curse the cross? Oh, the streams of blood that 
have flowed; the anguished cries of defenseless women 
and babes, that have rent the air under the shadow of 
that fateful cross! From Peru up through Central 
America and Mexico, even to these lovely islands, what 
terrible crimes were committed in its name. 
Like the rest of the islands and much of the adjacent 
mainland, Santa Cruz was granted to some favorite of 
a Spanish King in the seventeenth century. Since then 
it has been bought and sold a number of times, and is 
at present owned by a French-Italian family of San 
Francisco. It is a principality in itself. Upon its 
hills graze twenty-five, thousand sheep and several 
thousands of cattle; sheep that are never herded except 
to the shearing pen and shipping wharf; fat cattle that 
any grazing section would be proud of. And so rugged 
and inaccessible are some portions of the island that 
many of the sheep never see the inside of a pen, and 
become as wild as their distant cousin, the bighorn 
They can be told at a glance, for they have long tails! 
About the ranch house, where hve the Italian and 
Mexican laborers, are the vineyards and groves of 
fruit and walnut trees. Last season the vineyard pro- 
duced 127,000 gallons of wine! 
Since the island passed into Spanish control, its 
several owners have never until recently allowed any 
one to camp upon its shores or explore the interior, 
with one exception. In 1879 there came a scientist 
from France, who obtained permission to board for a 
time at the ranch, and collect Indian relics and various 
specimens of the island's flora and fauna. Among 
other things, he got together more than one hundred 
human skulls, some with flint arrow points imbedded 
in them. And then, one day, he sailed away, promising 
to send the amount of his bill, and requesting his col- 
lection to be forwarded to him. But the money never 
came, the skulls were finally buried, and the rest of 
what was undoubtedly a very valuable collection dis- 
appeared as such things will unless properly cared for. 
But there is now a new order of things on Santa 
Cruz. Mr. A. G. Fraser, an old-time southern Cali- 
fornian, has finally succeeded in obtaining a concession 
from the owners, permitting him to open a resort for 
tourists and anglers^ and to rent camp ground, boats 
and other things to those who cannot afford or do not 
wish to patronize the inn and cottage he has built on 
Pelican Bay. "Pelican Bay Camp," as Mr. Fraser 
calls his plant, is a lovely place; the inn is built on the 
edge of a wave-washed cliff, and upon a hill back of it, 
}n the shelter of a pine and live oak grove, stand the 
swept them away, and it is reasonable to conclude that 
the growth has not flourished here very long. 
Upon arriving at Santa Barbara, the first thing the 
tourist hears of Santa Cruz Island is that it has some 
wonderful seal caves. And, indeed, they are all that, 
ranking not least in the list of California's very many 
and unique places of interest. The Yosemite Valley is 
stupendous in its proportions; the Seal Caves of Santa 
Cruz are — well, I will try to describe them. 
We left Pelican Bay in Mr. Fraser's good gasolene 
sloop the Pride, James Prescott captain, and covered 
the eight miles to them in all too short a time, for every 
foot of the coast line we passed was of surpassing in- 
terest. BlackTava cliffs rise ruggedly from the water's 
edge, broken here and there by narrow sandy or grav- 
elly beaches, "where -a canon comes down to the sea. 
the. dark and menacing- hole in the cliff. Presently one 
of the party fired a gun, which sounded vefy faint and 
far away; and in a moment or two, alarmed at the re- 
port, out came a great drove of stellar seals, diving 
and alternately leaping into the air. 1 They kept 'close 
to the cliff wall, heading west, and right opposite us and 
directly in the way of their course was. a huge, rock 
rising a little above the sea; over this they shot, high 
in the air with tremendous speed, affording a most in- 
teresting sight. 
It was now our turn to go in. As the boat entered 
the lofty ante-chamber, the writer at least felt as if he 
were leaving the bright and sunny world on a voyage 
into a dark and unknown country; as one of the party 
put it, "The place is dreadfully fascinating." First, as 
to the entrance chamber: It is about forty feet in 
height, one hundred or more in length and dome- 
shaped. Well is it named the Painted Cave; yet a bet- 
ter name would be the Cave of Wondrous Tints. From 
the water's edge to high tide mark the walls and the 
barnacles which cover them are of a pinkish or crushed 
strawberry color, and this band merges into a delicate 
shade of green, that into faint yellow, old ivory, gray 
— oh, many, many shades of many colors, which this 
pen cannot describe, which no artist, not even the 
greatest, could hope to portray. The chamber, with its 
fairly high and wide entrance, has just enough light to 
give effect to the wonderful coloring. 
All too soon the oarsman allowed the boat to go 
on, stem first, in a current setting in through a Moor- 
ish arch in the rear of the chamber. We passed it and 
saw other arches, all of the same peculiar style, as if 
carved by the ancient Moors; and beyond them all was 
blackness, intense, deep night. There was quite a stiff 
swell from outside, and Capt. Prescott deemed it un- 
safe for us to venture further in. Nor did many of us 
care to do so. Away there in the depths of the cave 
we could hear the water gurgle, and hiss, and roar 
with hollow and chilling reverberations. And there 
was the swift current rushing on. At high tide and 
low tide, and at all times, says the Captain, it is 
always the same, constantly running in. Where does 
it go? What is there far away where we hear the 
uneasy waters? No one knows; the black tunnel may 
pierce the very heart of the island, or perchance take 
one to the regions of the damned. "Once," said the 
Captain, 'T went in so far that the daylight at the 
entrance seemed to be about the size of a pint cup. I 
had no lantern. Far away I could still hear the water 
boom, and a lot of seals were roaring, too. Even if I 
had been provided with lights, I should have venturned 
no further in that boat. What one wants for explor-. 
ing this place is a narrow skiff, rigged for sculling at 
each end. and men with plenty of courage to handle it. 
I believe we are soon to have such a craft." 
Rowing back, we stopped again for some moments 
in the ante-chamber to view the wondrous colors, and 
then returned to the sloop. No one, I imagined, who 
sees the' place is likely to forget it. The fascination of 
it constantly returns; insistently returns; one wants 
to know what is beyond, where that dark passage leads 
to in which "the current runs so strongly. Well, maybe 
we will learn some day. 
On our homeward way we dropped the anchor just 
around the eastern end of Cape Valdez, and went 
ashore, landing on a pebbly beach in the great cave 
which honeycombs the high black lava point. : Leaving 
LANDING IN VALDEZ CAVE, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND. 
In most of these canons are fine groves of oak and 
willow and holly, changing into pine higher up. The 
black cliffs are overhung on their upper portion by an 
irregular fringe of gray lava, in the distance having all 
the effect of fine old lace against a dark background. 
The rock is pierced by a great number of holes and 
caves, and some of those at the foot give out cannon- 
like reports as the waves beat into them. Here and 
there at the points, immense boulders rise jaggedly 
from the water some little distance out. We sailed be-^ 
tween one of these and the frowning cliff from which* 
it had parted. It is unclimbable, and a nesting place for 
the gulls, which were resting upon it in hundreds. _ The 
upper portion has the shape of an old hag's or witch's 
head, beak-like nose, sharp protruding chin, a profile 
face gazing malignantly at the opposite cliff. Arrived 
opposite the entrance of the caves, we dropped anchor 
at the edge of the kelp and the boat was lowered. 
There were so many of us that only a part could go 
in at a time. We who remained on board felt "creepy" 
as we saw the skiff and its occupants disappear into 
the skiff and walking around to the right, we went 
out through another opening to a lovely beach, where 
the surf breaks gently over the glistening sand. Back 
from the beach is a grove of large live oaks on either 
side of a stream of cold, clear water, tumbling down in 
little cascades from the steep mountainside, an ideal 
spot for a summer camp. Or one could make his 
home in the great cave. It has still another opening 
on the west side of the point, three entrances in all; 
is about 150 yards in length, and from 30 to .50 feet in 
height. The floor is of clean white sand; there are 
shelves here and there, along which we carefully and 
vainly searched for any relics of the ancient inhabitants. 
Yet one may well believe that they frequented the 
place. What a grand playroom it must have been for 
the children of a rainy day! 
Passing out of the cave and across the length of the 
beach, we came again to the black lava cliffs and en- 
tered another rather narrow cave. It was but a short 
distance to another opening, and passing out of that, 
we found ourselves in what may be called the Grand 
