notes by flood and field-第1章

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NOTES　BY　FLOOD　AND　FIELD





PART　IIN　THE　FIELD



It　was　near　the　close　of　an　October　day　that　I　began　to　be

disagreeably　conscious　of　the　Sacramento　Valley。　　I　had　been　riding

since　sunrise；　and　my　course　through　the　depressing　monotony　of　the

long　level　landscape　affected　me　more　like　a　dull　dyspeptic　dream

than　a　business　journey；　performed　under　that　sincerest　of　natural

phenomenaa　California　sky。　　The　recurring　stretches　of　brown　and

baked　fields；　the　gaping　fissures　in　the　dusty　trail；　the　hard

outline　of　the　distant　hills；　and　the　herds　of　slowly　moving

cattle；　seemed　like　features　of　some　glittering　stereoscopic

picture　that　never　changed。　　Active　exercise　might　have　removed

this　feeling；　but　my　horse　by　some　subtle　instinct　had　long　since

given　up　all　ambitious　effort；　and　had　lapsed　into　a　dogged　trot。



It　was　autumn；　but　not　the　season　suggested　to　the　Atlantic　reader

under　that　title。　　The　sharply　defined　boundaries　of　the　wet　and

dry　seasons　were　prefigured　in　the　clear　outlines　of　the　distant

hills。　　In　the　dry　atmosphere　the　decay　of　vegetation　was　too　rapid

for　the　slow　hectic　which　overtakes　an　Eastern　landscape；　or　else

Nature　was　too　practical　for　such　thin　disguises。　　She　merely

turned　the　Hippocratic　face　to　the　spectator；　with　the　old

diagnosis　of　Death　in　her　sharp；　contracted　features。



In　the　contemplation　of　such　a　prospect　there　was　little　to　excite

any　but　a　morbid　fancy。　　There　were　no　clouds　in　the　flinty　blue

heavens；　and　the　setting　of　the　sun　was　accompanied　with　as　little

ostentation　as　was　consistent　with　the　dryly　practical　atmosphere。

Darkness　soon　followed；　with　a　rising　wind；　which　increased　as　the

shadows　deepened　on　the　plain。　　The　fringe　of　alder　by　the

watercourse　began　to　loom　up　as　I　urged　my　horse　forward。　　A　half…

hour's　active　spurring　brought　me　to　a　corral；　and　a　little　beyond

a　house；　so　low　and　broad　it　seemed　at　first　sight　to　be　half…

buried　in　the　earth。



My　second　impression　was　that　it　had　grown　out　of　the　soil；　like

some　monstrous　vegetable；　its　dreary　proportions　were　so　in　keeping

with　the　vast　prospect。　　There　were　no　recesses　along　its　roughly

boarded　walls　for　vagrant　and　unprofitable　shadows　to　lurk　in　the

daily　sunshine。　　No　projection　for　the　wind　by　night　to　grow

musical　over；　to　wail；　whistle；　or　whisper　to；　only　a　long　wooden

shelf　containing　a　chilly…looking　tin　basin　and　a　bar　of　soap。　　Its

uncurtained　windows　were　red　with　the　sinking　sun；　as　though

bloodshot　and　inflamed　from　a　too…long　unlidded　existence。　　The

tracks　of　cattle　led　to　its　front　door；　firmly　closed　against　the

rattling　wind。



To　avoid　being　confounded　with　this　familiar　element；　I　walked　to

the　rear　of　the　house；　which　was　connected　with　a　smaller　building

by　a　slight　platform。　　A　grizzled；　hard…faced　old　man　was　standing

there；　and　met　my　salutation　with　a　look　of　inquiry；　and；　without

speaking；　led　the　way　to　the　principal　room。　　As　I　entered；　four

young　men　who　were　reclining　by　the　fire　slightly　altered　their

attitudes　of　perfect　repose；　but　beyond　that　betrayed　neither

curiosity　nor　interest。　　A　hound　started　from　a　dark　corner　with　a

growl；　but　was　immediately　kicked　by　the　old　man　into　obscurity；

and　silenced　again。　　I　can't　tell　why；　but　I　instantly　received　the

impression　that　for　a　long　time　the　group　by　the　fire　had　not

uttered　a　word　or　moved　a　muscle。　　Taking　a　seat；　I　briefly　stated

my　business。



Was　a　United　States　surveyor。　　Had　come　on　account　of　the　Espiritu

Santo　Rancho。　　Wanted　to　correct　the　exterior　boundaries　of

township　lines；　so　as　to　connect　with　the　near　exteriors　of　private

grants。　　There　had　been　some　intervention　to　the　old　survey　by　a

Mr。　Tryan　who　had　preempted　adjacent〃settled　land　warrants；〃

interrupted　the　old　man。　　〃Ah；　yes！　　Land　warrantsand　then　this

was　Mr。　Tryan？〃



I　had　spoken　mechanically；　for　I　was　preoccupied　in　connecting

other　public　lines　with　private　surveys　as　I　looked　in　his　face。

It　was　certainly　a　hard　face；　and　reminded　me　of　the　singular

effect　of　that　mining　operation　known　as　〃ground　sluicing〃；　the

harder　lines　of　underlying　character　were　exposed；　and　what　were

once　plastic　curves　and　soft　outlines　were　obliterated　by　some

powerful　agency。



There　was　a　dryness　in　his　voice　not　unlike　the　prevailing

atmosphere　of　the　valley；　as　he　launched　into　an　EX　PARTE　statement

of　the　contest；　with　a　fluency；　which；　like　the　wind　without；

showed　frequent　and　unrestrained　expression。　　He　told　mewhat　I

had　already　learnedthat　the　boundary　line　of　the　old　Spanish

grant　was　a　creek；　described　in　the　loose　phraseology　of　the　DESENO

as　beginning　in　the　VALDA　or　skirt　of　the　hill；　its　precise

location　long　the　subject　of　litigation。　　I　listened　and　answered

with　little　interest；　for　my　mind　was　still　distracted　by　the　wind

which　swept　violently　by　the　house；　as　well　as　by　his　odd　face；

which　was　again　reflected　in　the　resemblance　that　the　silent　group

by　the　fire　bore　toward　him。　　He　was　still　talking；　and　the　wind

was　yet　blowing；　when　my　confused　attention　was　aroused　by　a　remark

addressed　to　the　recumbent　figures。



〃Now；　then；　which　on　ye'll　see　the　stranger　up　the　creek　to

Altascar's；　tomorrow？〃



There　was　a　general　movement　of　opposition　in　the　group；　but　no

decided　answer。



〃Kin　you　go；　Kerg？〃



〃Who's　to　look　up　stock　in　Strarberry　perar…ie？〃



This　seemed　to　imply　a　negative；　and　the　old　man　turned　to　another

hopeful；　who　was　pulling　the　fur　from　a　mangy　bearskin　on　which　he

was　lying；　with　an　expression　as　though　it　were　somebody's　hair。



〃Well；　Tom；　wot's　to　hinder　you　from　goin'？〃



〃Mam's　goin'　to　Brown's　store　at　sunup；　and　I　s'pose　I've　got　to

pack　her　and　the　baby　agin。〃



I　think　the　expression　of　scorn　this　unfortunate　youth　exhibited

for　the　filial　duty　into　which　he　had　been　evidently　beguiled　was

one　of　the　finest　things　I　had　ever　seen。



〃Wise？〃



Wise　deigned　no　verbal　reply；　but　figuratively　thrust　a　worn　and

patched　boot　into　the　discourse。　　The　old　man　flushed　quickly。



〃I　told　ye　to　get　Brown　to　give　you　a　pair　the　last　time　you　war

down　the　river。〃



〃Said　he　wouldn't　without'en　order。　　Said　it　was　like　pulling　gum

teeth　to　get　the　money　from　you　even　then。〃



There　was　a　grim　smile　at　this　local　hit　at　the　old　man's

parsimony；　and　Wise；　who　was　clearly　the　privileged　wit　of　the

family；　sank　back　in　honorable　retirement。



〃Well；　Joe；　ef　your　boots　are　new；　and　you　aren't　pestered　with

wimmin　and　children；　p'r'aps　you'll　go；〃　said　Tryan；　with　a　nervous

twitching；　intended　for　a　smile；　about　a　mouth　not　remarkably

mirthful。



Tom　lifted　a　pair　of　bushy　eyebrows；　and　said　shortly：



〃Got　no　saddle。〃



〃Wot's　gone　of　your　saddle？〃



〃Kerg；　there〃indicating　his　brother　with　a　look　such　as　Cain

might　have　worn　at　the　sacrifice。



〃You　lie！〃　returned　Kerg；　cheerfully。



Tryan　sprang　to　his　feet；　seizing　the　chair；　flourishing　it　around

his　head　and　gazing　furiously　in　the　hard　young　faces　which

fearlessly　met　his　own。　　But　it　was　only　for　a　moment；　his　arm　soon

dropped　by　his　side；　and　a　look　of　hopeless　fatality　crossed　his

face。　　He　allowed　me　to　take　the　chair　from　his　hand；　and　I　was

trying　to　pacify　him　by　the　assurance　that　I　required　no　guide　when

the　irrepressible　Wise　again　lifted　his　voice：



〃Theer's　George　comin'！　why　don't　ye　ask　him？　　He'll　go　and

introduce　you　to　Don　Fernandy's　darter；　too；　ef　you　ain't

pertickler。〃



The　laugh　which　followed　this　joke；　which　evidently　had　some

domestic　allusion　（the　general　tendency　of　rural　pleasantry）；　was

followed　by　a　light　step　on　the　platform；　and　the　young　man

entered。　　Seeing　a　stranger　present；　he　stopped　and　colored；　made　a

shy　salute　and　colored　again；　and　then；　drawing　a　box　from　the

corner；　sat　down；　his　hands　clasped　lightly　together　and　his　very

handsome　bright　blue　eyes　turned　frankly　on　mine。