The San Francisco call., 1896-02-16

y
III familiar with the early history
OF Bay Farm Island, which lies
Just south of placid Alameda
and separated from that quiet
suburb by the estuary and waste of
marsh and mud, and with the life story of
one of the queer beings that inhabited
it in the early days, his marvellous pen
might have related a tale OF actual fact
that would have rivaled in interest even
that of the mythical Treasure Island, to
which he attributed his first financial sue
cess as writer of fiction
From its appearance it needs no great
stretch of imagination to picture the
island as a place where boards of gold
might lie buried. Viewed from Alameda
il lies long and low against the southern
horizon, with fringe of trees on the west
ern end and a few dreary sand dunes 10
the east, where the solid ground melts
away into the deep black mire of the
marsh. A bridge now spans the estuary,
from the southern end of which sub
stantial wagon-road leads to the prosper
Gus farms beyond; but in the early days
the latter hfties and early siXties-the
only communication with the island was
by boat, and the traffic was greater TO San
Francisco than TO the nearer town OF Ala
media.
The island was sparsely inhabited in
those umes-the days OF gold-the few set
tiers being of the plodding kind who had
resisted the Establishments OF the mines
TO accumulate their fortunes more slowly
and more surely by agricultural pursuits
or, having tempted fortune in the gold
fields and failed had taken to tilling the
soil as the only alternative.
Somewhere on the island, buried deep
beneath the dense black loan, lies a box
of gold, the accumulation of a lifetime of
toll and privation, which, in these days
when men struggle for a competence,
would be by many considered a fortune.
Many times has it been searched for but
always in vain, and the oldest inhabitants
as well as the younger generation 10
whom its history has been handed down
agree that it is still there and likely to re-
main buried until the judgment day.
Opinions vary as 10 the amount OF golden
coin the box contains. but the least esti-
mate places it at $4,000, while many be-
lieye that $4,000 would be nearer the cor
rect figure.
One dark night in September. 1885. a
stalwart Portuguese, bearing on his broad
shoulders an IRON bound box that taxed
his strength to carry, appeared at the
Alameda end OF the island ferry and
asked the boatman who carried passengers
across to land him on the island He
V,
landing was reached paid the ferryman's
fee, reshouldered his burden and
trudged along the narrow trail that
threaded through the marsh to the frmer
ground.
A few days previous to his nocturnal
trip he had purchased from an eariy
settler, who bore the name of Pegieg VIII
son, for few hundred dollars, tract of
twenty acres OF the best land in the west
ern portion of the island, and though the
journey at night with the heavy box ez-
cited some curiosity it was known that he
intended settling there, and the incident
was soon forgotten, being recalled only by
subsequent events.
Frank Silva, for such was the mans
name, wasted no time after taking possess
sion of his farm, but with the diligence of
his race soon had it in shape to farm, and
before long was shipping quantities OF
vegetables to the San Francisco market
that, in those days of high prices, brought
hlm handsome returns. Though not tall
he was giant in strength and no labor
seemed 10 be too great as long as it brought
money to his pockets, for he was undeni-
ably close and boarded his gains in man.
ner that most OF his neighbors considered
misery.
Being reticent as well as close il was
long before his history became known to
the islanders, and then only through the
talk OF Portuguese in whom Silva had
cOHHueu ana WHO was more gdrrul0uS than
his countryman.
In his youth Silva had been a seaman in
the Portuguese navy, but the allurements
OF the new world tempted him to desert
the life OF man-of-war's man and sail
away in an emigrant ship to New York.
In those days the whaling industry was
in the zenith OF its prosperity and dozens
of stout harks and ships sailed each wear
for the frozen north in search of the levi
athans that paid well for the catching.
The days of the steam whaler had not
come as yet and the crews of the vessels
that braved the Arctic winters usually re-
turned with good credits in the ships
books. Within month after landing in
New York Silva ran across a Portuguese
captain who commanded a New Bedford
bark and signed with him for cruise to
the Arctic.
The voyage was very prosperous one.
and Silva, after depositing his earnings