Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-06-11
IN THE WooIs.
A REGULAR CORRESPONDENT TALKS OF
COAST DELIGHTS,
And the Mystery Of the Deep Woods, the
Silent Rivers ard the Rest of
Recreation.

sawmllls chutes, slides, fumes, slab piles
and drift -wood-drift.woo up ard down
the coast, thrown into every cove and cast
out from the sea on every beach. I have
come down thus far overland (and up hill
and down dale it has been), and pause here
midway between shore and wood to pleas.
ure in each. There is sawmill of course,
which gathers its steam power from the
Gualala river, and the mouth of the river
| widens into the sea in plain view of my
window. Upon beach which describes a
| half circle, thickly -strewn with small and
shining pebbles, the breakers roll foamiDg
up and break, and all night and all day
long I hear that sullen shudder of the
waters voice. 1t is
| GRAND AND AwESoME
To wake to it at night when even the
dark lies still to listen to it. l have
brought Blackmore's "Mary Anerley"
along with me to read, and in it he speaks
of the dark, weary lifting of the sea, +"
and "the long, soft murmur of the sea. I"
| When / stand ON the cliffs down yonder,
and look out beyond the line of froth and
| fume, can seem to see that dark slow
'slifting" like the rise and fall of great
tired shoulder, and from over the roar and
the near break comes the long, distant, al
most silent complaint, that gives the sea
something of sadness to almost everyone.
Sails glide constantly along the horizon,
coming out of nowhere and going ghost
| like again to nowhere and sea. lions, with
faces like dogs, come up with the waves.
Captain Trask, Surveyor for the Under
| writers, is here with vessel, marking new
moorings and examining into the stability
of moorings already affixed near the land
ings. He has diver with him, and l
went out opposite the vessel yesterday on
| the cliff, curious to see a descent. / have
been filled with wonder at the
treasures of shell, of weed and of curious
fish the sea gives up, but my wonder finds
no limit at the thought of what it must
hide. "Full many gem of purest ray
serene, the dark, unfathomed caves of ocean
BEAR" and oh, when it casts away upon
the shore such beautiful things, what
STRANGE AND LOVELY coLoRs
And shapes must it keep to itself And
this was to be real diver, who went
down, down, down, and walked upon the
floor of the sea, discovering the weed in
| its bed, the shell in the home it always
| echoes of, and the fish in the element it SO
loves it dies without. The water spark
led and glistened and turned and changed
and tossed as though strewn with a hun
| dred parures of diamonds, and the little
steamer sank and rose with the waves.
Presently two men began oddly at work
with bupgling apparel upon third, who
sat, passive, in a chair. They put suit
belt, containing fifty pounds of shot, about
his waist then shoes, each made to weigh
thirty pounds by means of lead, were
brass helmet, with glass over the ears
and great glass goggles over the eyes, was
was set over his head, and then he rose,
looking like any other creature than man.
/ He took a slow step or two towards the
rail they lifted one OF his heavy feet over,
| then the other, and he stood upon ladder
leading down to the water, clinging to it
4 while the vessel moved up and down. l
almost longed to have him stay, the water
seemed SO deep and cold. Others were
worked at force pump forcing breath into
| the air tube which reached over the side.
i OuO SISp uc iduOIC0 bhC
| ladder, another and another and another,
and his leaden feet We're hid, his knees,
his thighs. his body, his swaying shoul-
ders-oh, heavens his head-the man was
| quite gone, and the water lay above him.
| Five minutes went by-ten, fifteen-and l
had Just said to myself that diver would
| never be seen again, when the men at the
rope began to haul in, and in little mo-
ment the brass helmet bobbed upon the
waves, and hand reached up and grasped
| the ladder Up came the driver then, safe as
you or I, and heavily clung to the ladder
as he mounted. He had not found the OBJ
| iect of his search-a chain that in the
winter time had dropped from buoy-and
down he went to look again. He staid a
little longer this time, but came up again
unsuccessful, the chain being probably
covered over with the sand. He was
belped-with his heavy feet he could not
lift himself-over the rail again, and his
odd garments were taken off. He could
not undress himself. nor aid in his undress-
ing, and if anything happened by accident
while he was under water he was gone for
ever. Horrible He gets one. half the
| value of his find, whatever it may be, and
he makes, perhaps, $3.50 or $500 per month
during his short seasons of work. 1t is not
business many men take to. To turn
AWAY FROM THE SEA.
| I find myself no longer on untrodden
ground. The stage comes here every day,
and hear of camping parties in all direc-
tions. 1t is fine fishing country. and r.
| A. Swain came up from San Francisco
| fortnight ago, and in four days of fishing
caught 600 trout. A gentleman here in
| the hotel in one day hooked l67. 1t is
true, for / saw them, and by courtesy of
| the catcher had some for dinner. The trout
are all small, and are much too pretty to
be killed just for the fun of seeing how
many can be taken in day. Gentlemen
usually content themselves with one long,
hard days work, so that they may tell
big story when they get back, and then
| they fish lazily an hour or so late in the
day, bringing in just enough for the table.
The woods are alive with quail, which take
advantage of the game law and are quite
| tame, venturing out with their families
into the open road. and calmly surveying
the passer-by from exposed perches. An
artist is here also, sketching and making
studies of color. am continually discov-
ing him criticising sunsets, and he crushes
me with technicalties in his conversation.
He shows me picture, and asks me to OBJ
serve how loosely it is "handled," and
talks about the "opaqueness of new
colors, and am miserable, because / feel
that he thinks I'm pretending to under
stand him, when all the time I'm trying to
tell him don't. A little child pulled
pitcher of boiling milk over at the break
fast table littlemore than week ago, and
when the dress was removed the skin hung
! in rags from the little arm / tell of the
accident because of the simple remedy. A
paste of baking soda and water was ap-
piled and changed several times during the
day, the blisters that formed being care
fully punctured with needle iustundert the
edge of the skin. The child cried no longer
than half an hour, and then went tosleep and
has seemed to feel no pain since. A heal
ing ointment has been laid on with linen
every day since the first, and now the arm
is nearly well, but two small places re-
manning over which new skin has not COM
pletely formed. The soda seemed to take
out all the FIRE and hurt almost immedi-
ately, and felt as though l wanted every
one to know of such convenient and
painless cure for burn. As said, there
are
/ CAMPERS