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greeted us the next morning as we lay beside the half…submerged
levee of Sacramento。 Here； however； the novelty of boats to convey
us to the hotels was an appeal that was irresistible。 I resigned
myself to a dripping rubber…cased mariner called 〃Joe；〃 and；
wrapping myself in a shining cloak of the like material； about as
suggestive of warmth as court plaster might have been； took my seat
in the stern sheets of his boat。 It was no slight inward struggle
to part from the steamer that to most of the passengers was the
only visible connecting link between us and the dry and habitable
earth； but we pulled away and entered the city； stemming a rapid
current as we shot the levee。
We glided up the long level of K Streetonce a cheerful； busy
thoroughfare； now distressing in its silent desolation。 The turbid
water which seemed to meet the horizon edge before us flowed at
right angles in sluggish rivers through the streets。 Nature had
revenged herself on the local taste by disarraying the regular
rectangles by huddling houses on street corners； where they
presented abrupt gables to the current； or by capsizing them in
compact ruin。 Crafts of all kinds were gliding in and out of low…
arched doorways。 The water was over the top of the fences
surrounding well…kept gardens； in the first stories of hotels and
private dwellings； trailing its slime on velvet carpets as well as
roughly boarded floors。 And a silence quite as suggestive as the
visible desolation was in the voiceless streets that no longer
echoed to carriage wheel or footfall。 The low ripple of water； the
occasional splash of oars； or the warning cry of boatmen were the
few signs of life and habitation。
With such scenes before my eyes and such sounds in my ears； as I
lie lazily in the boat； is mingled the song of my gondolier who
sings to the music of his oars。 It is not quite as romantic as his
brother of the Lido might improvise； but my Yankee 〃Giuseppe〃 has
the advantage of earnestness and energy； and gives a graphic
description of the terrors of the past week and of noble deeds of
self…sacrifice and devotion； occasionally pointing out a balcony
from which some California Bianca or Laura had been snatched； half…
clothed and famished。 Giuseppe is otherwise peculiar； and refuses
the proffered fare； foram I not a citizen of San Francisco； which
was first to respond to the suffering cry of Sacramento？ and is not
he； Giuseppe； a member of the Howard Society？ No！ Giuseppe is
poor； but cannot take my money。 Still； if I must spend it； there
is the Howard Society； and the women and children without food and
clothes at the Agricultural Hall。
I thank the generous gondolier； and we go to the Halla dismal；
bleak place； ghastly with the memories of last year's opulence and
plenty； and here Giuseppe's fare is swelled by the stranger's mite。
But here Giuseppe tells me of the 〃Relief Boat〃 which leaves for
the flooded district in the interior； and here； profiting by the
lesson he has taught me； I make the resolve to turn my curiosity to
the account of others； and am accepted of those who go forth to
succor and help the afflicted。 Giuseppe takes charge of my
carpetbag； and does not part from me until I stand on the slippery
deck of 〃Relief Boat No。 3。〃
An hour later I am in the pilothouse； looking down upon what was
once the channel of a peaceful river。 But its banks are only
defined by tossing tufts of willow washed by the long swell that
breaks over a vast inland sea。 Stretches of 〃tule〃 land fertilized
by its once regular channel and dotted by flourishing ranchos are
now cleanly erased。 The cultivated profile of the old landscape
had faded。 Dotted lines in symmetrical perspective mark orchards
that are buried and chilled in the turbid flood。 The roofs of a
few farmhouses are visible； and here and there the smoke curling
from chimneys of half…submerged tenements shows an undaunted life
within。 Cattle and sheep are gathered on Indian mounds waiting the
fate of their companions whose carcasses drift by us； or swing in
eddies with the wrecks of barns and outhouses。 Wagons are stranded
everywhere where the tide could carry them。 As I wipe the
moistened glass； I see nothing but water； pattering on the deck
from the lowering clouds； dashing against the window； dripping from
the willows； hissing by the wheels； everywhere washing； coiling；
sapping； hurrying in rapids； or swelling at last into deeper and
vaster lakes； awful in their suggestive quiet and concealment。
As day fades into night the monotony of this strange prospect grows
oppressive。 I seek the engine room； and in the company of some of
the few half…drowned sufferers we have already picked up from
temporary rafts； I forget the general aspect of desolation in their
individual misery。 Later we meet the San Francisco packet； and
transfer a number of our passengers。 From them we learn how
inward…bound vessels report to have struck the well…defined channel
of the Sacramento； fifty miles beyond the bar。 There is a
voluntary contribution taken among the generous travelers for the
use of our afflicted； and we part company with a hearty 〃Godspeed〃
on either side。 But our signal lights are not far distant before a
familiar sound comes back to usan indomitable Yankee cheerwhich
scatters the gloom。
Our course is altered； and we are steaming over the obliterated
banks far in the interior。 Once or twice black objects loom up
near usthe wrecks of houses floating by。 There is a slight rift
in the sky toward the north； and a few bearing stars to guide us
over the waste。 As we penetrate into shallower water； it is deemed
advisable to divide our party into smaller boats； and diverge over
the submerged prairie。 I borrow a peacoat of one of the crew； and
in that practical disguise am doubtfully permitted to pass into one
of the boats。 We give way northerly。 It is quite dark yet；
although the rift of cloud has widened。
It must have been about three o'clock； and we were lying upon our
oars in an eddy formed by a clump of cottonwood； and the light of
the steamer is a solitary； bright star in the distance； when the
silence is broken by the 〃bow oar〃：
〃Light ahead。〃
All eyes are turned in that direction。 In a few seconds a
twinkling light appears； shines steadily； and again disappears as
if by the shifting position of some black object apparently
drifting close upon us。
〃Stern； all； a steamer！〃
〃Hold hard there！ Steamer be damned！〃 is the reply of the
coxswain。 〃It's a house； and a big one too。〃
It is a big one； looming in the starlight like a huge fragment of
the darkness。 The light comes from a single candle； which shines
through a window as the great shape swings by。 Some recollection
is drifting back to me with it as I listen with beating heart。
〃There's someone in it； by heavens！ Give way； boyslay her
alongside。 Handsomely； now！ The door's fastened； try the window；
no！ here's another！〃
In another moment we are trampling in the water which washes the
floor to the depth of several inches。 It is a large room； at the
farther end of which an old man is sitting wrapped in a blanket；
holding a candle in one hand； and apparently absorbed in the book
he holds with the other。 I spring toward him with an exclamation：
〃Joseph Tryan！〃
He does not move。 We gather closer to him； and I lay my hand
gently on his shoulder； and say：
〃Look up； old man； look up！ Your wife and children； where are
they？ The boysGeorge！ Are they here？ are they safe？〃
He raises his head slowly； and turns his eyes to mine； and we
involuntarily recoil before his look。 It is a calm and quiet
glance； free from fear； anger； or pain； but it somehow sends the
blood curdling through our veins。 He bowed his head over his book
again； taking no further notice of us。 The men look at me
compassionately； and hold their peace。 I make one more effort：
〃Joseph Tryan； don't you know me？ the surveyor who surveyed your
ranchthe Espiritu Santo？ Look up； old man！〃
He shuddered and wrapped himself closer in his blanket。 Presently
he repeated to himself 〃The surveyor who surveyed your ranch
Espiritu Santo〃 over and over again； as though it were a lesson he
was trying to fix in his memory。
I was turning sadly to the boatmen when he suddenly caught me
fearfully by the hand and said：
〃Hush！〃
We were silent。
〃Listen！〃 He puts his arm around my neck and whispers in my ear；
〃I'm a MOVING OFF！〃
〃Moving off？〃
〃Hush！ Don't speak so loud。 Moving off。 Ah！ wot's that？ Don't
you hear？there！ listen！〃
We listen； and hear the water gurgle and click beneath the floor。
〃It's them wot he sent！Old Altascar sent。 They've been here all
night。 I heard 'em first in the creek； when they came to tell the
old man to move farther off。 They came nearer and nearer。