han any other way he was some wild youth who, after
some misdemeanor in the society of his native place, sought safety from
reproach or punishment in the wilderness. Or he was some disappointed man,
who with feelings embittered towards his fellows, preferred the seclusion
of the forest and mountain. Many were of a class disreputable everywhere,
who gladly embraced a life not subject to social laws. A few were brave,
independent and hardy spirits, who delighted in the hardships and wild
adventures their calling made necessary. All these men, the best with the
worst, were subject to no will but their own. And all experience goes to
prove that a life of perfect liberty is apt to degenerate into a life of
license.

"Even their own lives, and those of their companions, when it depended
upon their own prudence, were but lightly considered. The constant
presence of danger made them reckless. It is easy to conceive how, under
these circumstances, the natives and the foreigners grew to hate each
other, in the Indian country, especially after the Americans came to the
determination to 'shoot an Indian at sight.'

"On the other hand, the employees of the Hudson's Bay Company were many of
them half-breeds, or full-blooded Indians of the Iroquois nation, towards
whom nearly all the tribes were kindly disposed. Even the Frenchmen, who
trapped for this Company, were well liked by the Indians on account of
their suavity of manner, and the ease with which they adapted themselves
to savage life. They were trained to the life of a trapper, were subject
to the will of the Company, and were generally just and equitable in their
dealing with the Indians. Most of them also had native wives, and
half-breed children, and were regarded as relatives. There was a wide
difference."

It was the month of September when Mr. Young and his party set out on
their return. The homeward route was essentially the same which they had
already traversed. They made a brief visit at the Mission of San Fernando,
and then pressed on to the flourishing Mission village of Los Angelos.
This City of the Angels, as it was called, from the salubrity of the
climate and the beauty of the scenery, was on a small river about four
hundred and fifty miles southeast from the present site of San Francisco.

Here Mr. Carson was introduced to a scene of refined, and polished life,
such as he had never witnessed before. He was informed that a Spanish
gentleman of wealth was resi