Off in the Dust.

During the summer of 1876 I had been hard at work.  The weather had been hot and trying.  In the latter part of September, Mr. Chauvin proposed that I go with him on a deer hunt to the Liebre Ranch.  I was practicing law, and after consulting my partners, I eagerly consented to accompany him.  He made all the preparations.  On the 30th of September he started a two-horse wagon, loaded with most of our outfit, on ahead, in charge of a roustabout.  On October 2nd, we followed in a light one-horse wagon, taking with us our blankets, a few provisions and a shotgun.  We had a hard time pulling over the grade beyond San Fernando, but finally made it.  We went on past Newhall, and camped the first night on the bank of the Santa Clara River.

Without the slightest trouble we killed, within a very few minutes, enough quail for supper and breakfast.  After we had finished our evening meal, quite a shower came up very suddenly.  Just enough rain fell to make things sticky and disagreeable.  The clouds vanished and left as beautiful a starlit sky as any human being ever enjoyed.  Our wagon had a piece of canvas over it, which shed the rain, and left the ground beneath the wagon dry.  Upon this spot we spread our blankets and went to sleep.  Next morning the sun got up, hot, red and ugly looking.  We breakfasted, hitched up and started up San Francisquito Canyon.  Chauvin remarked we were in for a hot day, and he proved a good prophet.  There wasn’t a breath of wind stirring as the day progressed.  The heat fairly sizzled.  A goodly part of the road was well shaded.  We were loath to leave the shady spots when we came to the open places.  To lighten our load we walked most of the way.  We stopped for lunch, fed and rested our weary animal, and just at dark after a weary afternoon’s work we reached Elizabeth Lake, where we overtook the other wagon.  We had been two full days on the road.  I have made the same trip in an automobile two summers in succession, in less than four hours.

In Antelope Country.

On leaving Elizabeth Lake next morning we transferred everything of any weight from our wagon to the larger one, which made the going much easier for our animal.  We descended the hill beyond the lake, went up the valley a few miles, and then cut straight across to a point near where Fairmont is now situated.  Chauvin said he wanted to get an antelope before going after the deer.  We crossed the valley into some low, rolling hills and camped on a small stream called Rock Creek.  Chauvin said this was a great place for antelope.  The horses were picketed out on a grassy cienega, which offered them pretty good feed.  We got our supper, made camp and went to bed.