old as we passed, "I guess
this beats beaver skins--eh, captain?" Another of them, who had a
savage-looking wolf-dog with him, was holding a palaver with an
Indian from the borders of the Klamath Lake; and the most friendly
understanding seemed to exist between them. "You see those two
scoundrels?" said the Captain to me. "They look and talk for all the
world like brothers; but only let either of them get the chance of a
shot at the other after scenting his trail, may be for days, across
those broad hunting-grounds, where every man they meet they look upon
as a foe, and the one that has the quickest eye and the readiest hand
will alone live to see the sun rise next day."

Threading his way amongst the crowd, I was somewhat struck by the
appearance of a Spanish Don of the old school, looking as magnificent
as a very gaudy light blue jacket with silver buttons and scarlet
trimmings, and breeches of crimson velvet, and striped silk sash, and
embroidered deer-skin shoes, and a perfumed cigaretto could make him.
He wore his slouched sombrero jauntily placed on one side, and beneath
it, of course, the everlasting black silk handkerchief, with the
corners dangling over the neck behind. Following him was his servant,
in slouched hat and spangled garters, carrying an old Spanish musket
over his shoulder, and casting somewhat timid looks at the motley
assemblage of Indians and trappers, who every now and then jostled
against him. Beyond these, there were a score or two of go-ahead
Yankees--"gentlemen traders," I suppose they called themselves--with a
few pretty Californian women, who are on their way with their husbands
to the mines. I noticed that the Captain had a word for almost every
one, and that he seemed to be held in very great respect.

Bradley informed me to-night of the origin of a scar which is just
distinguishable in Captain Sutter's face. It seems that the Captain,
who is a Swiss, was one of Charles the Tenth's guards in 1830, and that
a slight cut from the sabre of one of the youths of the Polytechnic
School had left in his visage a standing memorial of the three glorious
days. Indeed the Captain seems generally to have taken the side of the
constituted authorities, as in thy revolution of 1845 he turned out
with all his people for the Mexican Government. However, he was more
fortunate in California than in Paris, as he didn't even get his skin
scratched on this occasion.

CHAPTER VI.

The journey dela