Part 10 (2/2)

SAN FRANCISCO, October 30, 1875.

We have found a magnificent situation. Our little house is perched on such a height, that every one wonders how we ever discovered it. The site of the city was originally a collection of immense sandhills, on the sides and tops of which the houses were built, many of them before the streets were laid out and graded. When the grades were finally determined, and the hills cut through,--as some of them were,--houses were often left perched far above, on the edge of a cliff, and almost as inaccessible as a feudal castle. I feel as if ours might be an eagle's nest, and enjoy the wildness and solitude of it. So does our Scotch shepherd dog, who has been used to lonely places. Sometimes, just as the sun is rising, we see him sitting out on the sandhills, looking about with such a contented expression that it seems as if he smiled. He opens his mouth to drink in the wind, as if it were a delicious draught to him.

The hills are covered with sage-brush, full of little twittering birds.

My bed is between two windows, and they fly across from one to the other, without minding me at all. Opposite is Alcatraz, a fortified island, but very peaceful-looking, the waves breaking softly all around it. It has still the Spanish name of the white pelicans with which it used to be covered. The commander of the fort died since we came here, and was carried across the water, with music, to Angel Island, to be buried.

Across the bay is a low line of hills, with softly rounded outlines.

They are of pale russet color, from the red earth, and thin, dried gra.s.s, that covers them. Farther to the north is Mount Tamalpias, with sharper outlines.

NOVEMBER 8, 1875.

The China boys generally refuse to come out here to live with us, saying it is ”too far, too far.” The unsettled appearance of this part of the city does not please them. To-day we succeeded in securing a small one.

He is a curious-looking little creature, with a high pointed head, stiff, black hair, and small, sparkling eyes. He seems like a little gnome, and might have been living in the bowels of the earth, in mines and caverns, with black coal and bright jewels about him. Before he would agree to come, he said he must go and consult the idol in the temple. He burned little fragrant sticks before him; but how he divined what his pleasure might be, I could not tell.

We hesitated about taking him, considering his very stunted appearance; but he said, ”Me heap smart,” and that settled it. ”Heap” must be a word the Chinese have picked up at the mines. It is in constant requisition in any attempt to converse with them.

Last night we had a heavy shock of earthquake. How different it is from merely reading that the crust of the earth is thin, and that there is fire under it, to feel it tremble under your feet! I was glad to have one thing more made real to me, that before meant nothing. It was a strange, deep trembling, as if every thing were sliding away from us.

NOVEMBER 18, 1875.

It gives one a lonesome feeling to see how many people here lead unsettled lives, looking upon some other place as their home. Even the children, hearing so much talk about the East, seem to have an idea that they really belong somewhere else. One of our little neighbors said to me, ”I have never been home;” although she, and all her grown-up brothers and sisters, were born and brought up here. Many of the customs of the place are adapted to a temporary way of living. In most parts of the city, it would be hard to find a street without signs of ”Furnished rooms to let.” Besides innumerable restaurants, a flying kitchen travels about, with every thing cooking as it goes along, and clean-looking men, with white ap.r.o.ns, to serve the food; one ringing a bell, and looking out in every direction, to see what is wanted.

The numerous windmills, for raising water, give the city a lively look.

The wind keeps them always in motion. The constant whirring of the wheels, and the general breezy look of things, distinguish this place from all others that I have seen. Sir Francis Drake, entering the bay nearly three hundred years ago, refers, with great delight, to ”a franke wind,” that took him ”into a safe and good baye.” There was, for a long time, some doubt as to which of several ports he made. I think that mention of the wind settles it. The identical wind has been blowing with undiminished vigor ever since. In summer (the time he was here), it will carry a vessel in against the strongest tide.

The city is built mostly of wood. The absence of foliage, and the neutral color of the houses, give the streets a dull gray look, here and there redeemed by the scarlet geranium, which, if not a native, is most thoroughly naturalized,--it grows so st.u.r.dily, even in the poorest yards.

APRIL 30, 1876.

We had a long ride out to the Seal-Rocks, past great wavy hills, with patches of gold, brighter than the dandelions and b.u.t.tercups are at home. This was the eschcholtzia, or California poppy. Occasionally we pa.s.sed great tracts of lupine. The lowland was a sea of blue iris.

Suddenly, as we surmounted a height, the ocean rolled in before us, line after line of breakers, on a broad beach. When we reached Point Lobos we saw the two great rocks, far out in the water, covered with brown seals that lay in the sun like flocks of sheep, and little slippery, s.h.i.+ning ones all the time crawling up out of the water, and dropping back again.

As the vessels pa.s.s out of the bay, they go near enough to hear them bark; but nothing frightens them away, nor discomposes them in the least, although they are only a few miles from the city, and have a great many visitors. They are protected by law from molestation.

We looked off to the Farallon Islands, which are one of the chief landmarks for vessels approaching the Golden Gate. There was formerly a settlement of Russians there, who hunted the seal and the otter. These islands are still a great resort for seals, also for cormorants and sea-gulls; and the large speckled eggs of the birds are gathered in quant.i.ties, and brought to the San Francisco market for sale. They were called by the Spaniards ”_Farallons de los Frayles_” (Islands of the Friars), _farallon_ being a sharp-pointed island.

There is a marvellous exhilaration in the air. The enthusiastic Bayard Taylor said, that, in his first drive round the bay, he felt like Julius Caesar, Milo of Crotana, and Gen. Jackson, rolled into one. It is an acknowledged fact, that both men and animals can work harder and longer here, without apparent injury or fatigue, than anywhere on the Eastern coast. We have heard it suggested that the abundant actinic rays in the dry, cloudless atmosphere are the cause of this invigoration, and also of the unusual brilliancy of the flowers.

JUNE 1, 1876.

The only way in which we know that summer is coming is by the more chilling winds, the increased dust, the tawny color of the hills, and the general dying look of things. Every thing is bare, sunny, and sandy.

We are surrounded with great wastes of sand, which the wind drives against the house, so that it seems always like a storm. Sometimes, when I sit at work at the window, a gopher comes out of the sandhill, and sits down outside it. His company makes me feel still more remote from all civilized things.

JULY 4, 1876.

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