MR. YOUNT'S HISTORY.

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We stopped for a night at the hospitable mansion of Mr. Yount. This old man had led an adventurous and chequered life, in the course of which he had fought under Jackson at New Orleans, and in the Seminole war, had been taken prisoner by the Indians, and actually bound to the stake. He had been a hunter and trapper, and Indian fighter at large, in the heart of the continent, until his combative propensities were gratified-and he finally found himself one day at the "jumping-off place," and made his first attempt at ocean navigation on the bosom of the broad Pacific. In the unpretending skiff of an otter-hunter, often unaccompanied save by his trusty rifle, he coasted the shores and islands of California, in search of the pelt of his valuable prey. While employed one day (in the year 1836) in his regular pursuit, he chanced to steer his skiff into the navigable creek or estuary of Napa, rightly judging it a place of resort for his furry friend. The valley was then inhabited by none but Indians, and he made his way up to a beautiful spot, a few miles from his boat, which had been selected for a rancheria by a tribe called the "Caymus." Here he sat down to rest, when suddenly there flashed upon his mind, like a gleam of light, a longforgotten prophesy of an old fortune-teller in his native state. He declares that the Sybil had predicted the spot of his future residence in terms exactly answering to the description of this valley, including all the accessories of grove, plain, mountain, river, and even "medicine-water," as the Indians call the springs. The old man pondered over this prophecy, counted his gains, which had been considerable, and philosophized over the vicissitudes of human life -not forgetting, however, to examine the valley more carefully. On his next visit to Monterey, he became a citizen of California, and obtained a grant of land embracing the charmed spot indicated by the western witch. He then came and settled it, purchasing cattle with his gains in the "lower country." But the happy valley then swarmed

with Indians, jealous of white men and constantly fighting among themselves, so that this elysium was turned into a pandemonium by their screams and war-whoops. But an old hunter and trapper who had passed his life in the wilderness, alternately fraternizing and fighting with Sioux, Crows, Black-feet, and Camanches, had not come thus far to be either frightened or outwitted by the more peaceable, simple, and indolent Indian of California. He quitted his skiff, formed an alliance, offensive and defensive, with the rancheria of Caymus, erected a log-house after the manner of his ancestors in the days of Daniel Boone, (who was supposed to have settled in the far west,) and with his faithful rifle the only fire-arm in the valley-not only stood and repelled the attacks of rival rancherias, but attacking in turn, exterminated the unruly, sustained the wavering, and, single-handed, bullied the whole valley into submission, Many a weary and anxious and watchful night did he spend ere this result was achieved; but once accomplished, his sovereignty remained undisputed; the conquered became his servants, and the allies of Caymus remain to this day his laborers and farm-hands.

Early the next morning our whole party came together, and we rode at a moderate pace up the valley. The party consisted of myself, one sergeant, two privates, one Indian interpreter, six Indian chiefs, and three vaqueros. We formed rather a grotesque procession. Being on an official visit, I had surmounted my "calzoneras" (riding suit) with my epaulettes and sword; the other white men wore a mixture of the Mexican and Rocky Mountain costume, and the vaqueros were clad in the cast-off clothing of persons who had already worn it threadbare. As to the chiefs, they had changed their apparel and appeared en grand costume, in the simple garment introduced into Paradise by father Adam, with the ornamental addition of a large quantity of feathers stuck in their heads-a style of dress to be preferred perhaps to the costume of our State of Georgia,

which is said to consist of a shirt-collar and a pair of spurs.

Just before noon we arrived at the rancho of Mr. Chiles, my sergeant, who was one of the first Americans that came to this country. His farm is a pretty, secluded spot, situated in a valley between the high "serrania" or mountain range, which forms the eastern wall of Napa valley, and the opposite chain which separates his land from the broader and more extensive lands of the western slope of the valley of the Sacramento. He saw this place a year or two since while hunting elk, and being struck with its advantages, obtained it from the governor, who, by the laws of Mexico was authorized to grant lands to actual settlers, under certain' conditions, to the extent of eleven square leagues. These conditions were that the settler should reside on the land with his family, plant fruit trees, stock it with cattle and horses, fence some part of it, and build a house on it. Failing to perform these conditions the land absolutely reverted to the government. But these requirements were not strictly enforced, being manifestly too rigorous in the unsettled state of the country; and the titles of the grantees who had not complied with them were considered perfectly good, it being indeed doubtful whether a single rancho in the territory has literally performed all the conditions.

CHAPTER IX.

Ranchos and Rancheros.

A CALIFORNIAN rancho or farm, of the first class, is about equal in extent to a German principality. While some are content with one, two, or three square leagues, (not miles), others luxuriate in a domain of eleven square leagues, which, according to Californian measure, is nearly three times the size of a township of our public lands. About the homestead a rancho presents a singularly primitive and patriarchal appearance. Job himself, after his sorrows were ended and his wealth doubled, hardly possessed more extensive herds of wild cattle, (ganado bronco,) which are usually seen on the outskirts of the rancho, but betake themselves to the woods or the ravines among the hills at the approach of a stranger. They seem to have a vague apprehension that you intend to drive them to the rodea, where they are driven to be counted on particular days, or perhaps to the matanzas or shambles. As you advance nearer the house, you fall in with the vacas chichiquas (tame milch cows) and menadas, (brood mares and colts) guarded by their garañon, (stallion) who starts fiercely from his pasture, and regards with jealous gaze the animals of your caballada, keeping a wary eye, the while, on his seraglio; still approaching, you meet large herds of sheep, attended by little half-naked Indians; and when close to the house your ears are saluted with the yelping of a regiment of curs, whose melodious notes are always at concert pitch. And now you reach the milpa, or

THE RANCHERO'S FAMILY.

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kitchen garden, a horticultural appendage which is sometimes rudely fenced with brush, "dumped" around it without an excessive regard to quantity or symmetry; but oftener boasting no better enclosure than a small troop of Indians, who, with loud cries of questionable melody, warn off the profane flocks and herds which would fain trespass upon its sacred precincts. Nor is it by day alone that these aboriginal moveable and musical fences perform their functions; for during the season when the sarse" is ripening, the remorseless rascals bivouac near the "milpa," making night hideous with their excruciating melodies, and gambling with their parientes (relations) when the ranchero permits them. The house is usually a rude edifice of adobes, (sun-burnt bricks), with the usual farm offices around it, patched on as may be most convenient; and it is invariably flanked by a "corral," (a circular fence for enclosing cattle), or by several corrals, according to the size and consequence of the rancho, Of course these houses vary in splendor and magnitude, as one star differeth from another in glory; but the best of them are not remarkable in these respects. The family is generally pretty large-consisting, first, of the head of the household, usually a bland, jolly-looking old gentleman, resembling Corcuelo, and next, of his handsome sons, appareled in the becoming Mexican riding dress, and accomplished in all the arts and mysteries of the campo, such as managing and lassoing the wildest cattle and most intractable horses. Then come the women, mother and daughters, comely and buxom, and reasonably tidy, but less delicate and more robust than their Mexican sisters. The rest of the family consists of "vaqueros," and servants, male and female, of Indian blood, who inhabit the "rancheria," or small Indian village, built of rush wigwams, near the house. Although these worthy rancheros have few superfluities to offer, besides beef and mutton, the wayfaring stranger is always sure of a hearty and unaffected welcome amongst them. Hospitality is inherent in Spanish blood. As the