The record-union., 1898-02-14


trail.
IT'S old Dick" said Henry, Hes
been TO town this mornin', and / guess
he's drunk again.
Henry was right When Dick came
to where We were, We saw that he WAS
about ''half-full"-justt the proper con-
dition to feel cranky in. 1 used to
know Dick years before, but Dick had
for gotten me. and was some time be-
fore he could remember who 'Hupman"
was. When he did remember. however,
he became quite effusive and then
asked ME for a bottle Of whisky! AS
had never given him friendly gifts Of
whisky in the past, l could hardly see
the connection of his request with his
remembrance; but I felt complimented
just the same
The artist tried to get some sketches
that afternoon, but everywhere Dick
followed US, and everywhere DICK in
terfered. At last, however. we got
away from him and went up to the
dam where an old rocker was lying by
the side of the water. The artist
thought it looked picturesque. and be-
gan to sketch it, but he had hardly be-
gun before he was interrupted. 1t
was Dick He had stolen down upon US
like the Greek, and he was hostile.
Cant low no white man to take
picters round here" he said. "Un-
nastan'? I'm boss hereof Dicks boss,
an no dam white man goin' to make
picters round here"
The artist stopped drawing, and
assured Dick that he had no evil de-
signs and that we were both innocents
But he wouldn't listen-only repeated
his remarks about the dam white man.
Then he climbed up on a big bowlder
to deliver us an grafton, for Dick was
the son of medicine-man and Inherit
ed penchant for speech-making.
Long time ago-Unnastan? Long
time ago white man come, takum tree,
takum grass, takum water-unnastan?
Where tree now? Where grass? Where
water? Long time go, plenty fish
Long time go"
His hat, set far back on his head
revealed his dark countenance fully;
his coarse, black hair fell over his fore
head and hung in two narrow locks on
either side of his repulsively SCARED
face. His eyes, small, narrow, half
squirting, were almost dead-a pecu-
liarly lifeless appearance sometimes OBJ
served in men who get angry very sud-
denly, or who drink to excess. l can
see him yet, standing there on that big
bowlder berating the terrible white
man. But the fire of his oratory didn't
burn long His added brain refused to
be coherent, so he climbed down from
his perch-very carefully, too, for Dick
knew when he was drunk Once moro
on the gravel by our sides he lapsed
into a reminiscent mood. and began to
talk of some one of those dark, yelled
deeds that gave him such a bad rep
utation I gathered from his broken
sentences that there had been another
Indian with him, that there was a
miner and lone cabin, and that-just
here Dicks mood changed again. An
evil, cruel light blazed up in the dull
field of his dead eyes, fierce, revenge
full expression swept over his face. He
bent nearer.
IN tear your heart out-unnastan?
I'll tear your heart out an t'row it in
de river I'll cut you all to pieces!
You see that rock? TN mash your
head with that rock!"
The artists pencil was sweeping
swiftly over his sketching-pad trying
to catch Dicks expression. Dick no
ticed it and his mood (and his express
sion. alasD changed again.
Draw my picter-come on, dam you,
draw my picter!"
He staggered over the rocks and
braced himself against a bowlder, and
stood there, ridiculously straight, with
his coat thrown over one arm and his
hat in his hand. The artist smiled and
advanced, for it was just the opportu-
nifty he had been waiting for. Swiftly
his clever fingers began work, but swift
as they We're, they We're not swift
enough. Before he had fairly gotten
started, Dick threw up his hand in a
gesture of fierce denial
NO YOU DON'T l know what you
want Hupman," (this to me) you
want Dicks picter for tn Sheriff"
| We denied this, of course, and told
| Dick what we did want his "picter"
| for: but Dicks suspicious were aroused
and he wouldn't believe anything else.
So we went down the river then, to
where Henry Potts and the rest of the
Potts outfit were working, Dick stag
gering and muttering along in our rear.
During the rest of our stay Dick was
conspicuously in evidence and spoiled
all the artists work. So finally we
decided TO give it up and go back to
French Corral. and whetf Dick went
away for a moment We slipped off. We
crossed on the brush dam, and took the
trail up the hill to the road; and the
last thing we saw, as We climbed up
that steep trail was Scar-faced Dick
dancing around on the. gravel Of the bar
yelling imprecations at US, and throw
| ing his hat high into the air.
But the artist was not to be diSap-
pointed he had come all the way from
! San Francisco TO get sketches of the
Indians and failure was a word that
he never could understand So we got
horse and cart of our host, William
Stark and next day we went to Rice's
/ Crossing again. l didn't care to leave
the horse alone up there on the narrow
grade. for he was young and 'skeery."
So / let the artist out at the head of
the trail and / drove down to the ford
and tied up Some festive fabricator
at French Corral had told me that there
were Tots of fish in the Yuba, so l
had taken a hook and line and some
choice worms, and thought / would
catch a few hundred pounds Of them
while l awaited Dixon's return. The
water Of the North Yuba is clearer now
than it has been for several years, and
there are a few catfish in It, But If
Isaak Walton had done his fishing in
this river he had never written a book
about it, for during the two or three
hours of my stay | caught only one
| fish. Yes; one little fish. three inches
long, who had left his mamma and be-
gun life ION his own hook'--ended it on
minei / made much of that little fish