the present
mining regulations suited us very well, and after he had talked with me
a little he went inside and whispered to some of the silent members that
the miners wanted no change, for he had just consulted a miner to that
effect. When occasion offered he called for a vote which resulted in the
defeat of the cow counties and a postponement of the measure
indefinitely.

My next move was to try to find a dryer place so I took a boat for
Benicia, then for Stockton, where I found a sea of mud, so that a man
needed stilts or a boat to cross the street.

Here in a livery stable I found my old Platte River boss, Chas. Dallas,
for whom I drove in 1849, but he did not seem to know me and took no
notice of me, but talked "horse" and horse-racing to the bystanders very
loudly. I suppose that Dallas had made money and did not care for a poor
ox driver, and on my part I did not care very much for his friendship,
so I walked away and left him without a word.

Every way I looked was a sea of black, sticky mud; dogs mired in the
streets and died, and teams and animals had forsaken the usual route of
travel. The gambling houses and saloons were crowded, gum boots in
demand, and the only way to get out of town was by water. I took this
way out, and on the same boat by which I came, going to San Francisco.
This was high and dry enough to be above the highest floods of Yuba,
Sacramento or San Joaquin, but all business except the saloons was dull.
Fronting on Portsmouth Square was the Hall of Corruption. Inside was a
magnificently furnished bar, more than one keeper and various gambling
tables, most of them with soiled doves in attendance. The room was
thronged with players and spectators, and coin and dust were plenty. The
dealers drew off their cards carefully, and seemed to have the largest
pile of coin on their side.

I climbed Russian Hill and to take a look over the city. It seemed
poorly built, but the portion that had been burned in July 1852, had
been built up again. The business part was near the beach and north of
Market street.

I had never lived in a town and did not know its ways, so I strolled
around alone, for without acquaintance I did not know where to go nor
what to look for. I therefore thought I would see some other part of the
country. I found that a schooner was about to sail for San Pedro, near
Los Angeles. I took hold of a rope to help myself on board, when it gave
way and I found myself floundering in t