PART II--WITH THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL
CHAPTER I.--TO INTRODUCE MR. KELMAR
One thing in this new country very particularly strikes a stranger,
and that is the number of antiquities. Already there have been
many cycles of population succeeding each other, and passing away
and leaving behind them relics. These, standing on into changed
times, strike the imagination as forcibly as any pyramid or feudal
tower. The towns, like the vineyards, are experimentally founded:
they grow great and prosper by passing occasions; and when the lode
comes to an end, and the miners move elsewhere, the town remains
behind them, like Palmyra in the desert. I suppose there are, in
no country in the world, so many deserted towns as here in
California.
The whole neighbourhood of Mount Saint Helena, now so quiet and
sylvan, was once alive with mining camps and villages. Here there
would be two thousand souls under canvas; there one thousand or
fifteen hundred ensconced, as if for ever, in a town of comfortable
houses. But the luck had failed, the mines petered out; and the
army of miners had departed, and left this quarter of the world to
the rattlesnakes and deer and grizzlies, and to the slower but
steadier advance of husbandry.
It was with an eye on one of these deserted places, Pine Flat, on
the Geysers road, that we had come first to Calistoga. There is
something singularly enticing in the idea of going, rent-free, into
a ready-made house. And to the British merchant, sitting at home
at ease, it may appear that, with such a roof over your head and a
spring of clear water hard by, the whole problem of the squatter's
existence would be solved. Food, however, has yet to be
considered, I will go as far as most people on tinned meats; some
of the brightest moments of my life were passed over tinned mulli-
gatawney in the cabin of a sixteen-ton schooner, storm-stayed in
Portree Bay; but after suitable experiments, I pronounce
authoritatively that man cannot live by tins alone. Fresh meat
must be had on an occasion. It is true that the great Foss,
driving by along the Geysers road, wooden-faced, but glorified with
legend, might have been induced to bring us meat, but the great
Foss could hardly bring us milk. To take a cow would have involved
taking a field of grass and a milkmaid; after which it would have
been hardly worth while to pause, and we might have added to our
colony a flock of sheep and an experienced butcher.
It is really very disheartening how we depend on other people in
this life. "Mihi est propositum," as you may see by the motto, "id
quod regibus;" and behold it cannot be carried out, unless I find a
neighbour rolling in cattle.
Now, my principal adviser in this matter was one whom I will call
Kelmar. That was not what he called himself, but as soon as I set
eyes on him, I knew it was or ought to be his name; I am sure it
will be his name among the angels. Kelmar was the store-keeper, a
Russian Jew, good-natured, in a very thriving way of business, and,
on equal terms, one of the most serviceable of men. He also had
something of the expression of a Scotch country elder, who, by some
peculiarity, should chance to be a Hebrew. He had a projecting
under lip, with which he continually smiled, or rather smirked.
Mrs. Kelmar was a singularly kind woman; and the oldest son had
quite a dark and romantic bearing, and might be heard on summer
evenings playing sentimental airs on the violin.
I had no idea, at the time I made his acquaintance, what an
important person Kelmar was. But the Jew store-keepers of
California, profiting at once by the needs and habits of the
people, have made themselves in too many cases the tyrants of the
rural population. Credit is offered, is pressed on the new
customer, and when once he is beyond his depth, the tune changes,
and he is from thenceforth a white slave. I believe, even from the
little I saw, that Kelmar, if he choose to put on the screw, could
send half the settlers packing in a radius of seven or eight miles
round Calistoga. These are continually paying him, but are never
suffered to get out of debt. He palms dull goods upon them, for
they dare not refuse to buy; he goes and dines with them when he is
on an outing, and no man is loudlier welcomed; he is their family
friend, the director of their business, and, to a degree elsewhere
unknown in modern days, their king.
For some reason, Kelmar always shook his head at the mention of
Pine Flat, and for some days I thought he disapproved of the whole
scheme and was proportionately sad. One fine morning, however, he
met me, wreathed in smiles. He had found the very place for me--
Silverado, another old mining town, right up the mountain. Rufe
Hanson, the hunter, could take care of us--fine people the Hansons;
we should be close to the Toll House, where the Lakeport stage
called daily; it was the best place for my health, besides. Rufe
had been consumptive, and was now quite a strong man, ain't it? In
short, the place and all its accompaniments seemed made for us on
purpose.
He took me to his back door, whence, as from every point of
Calistoga, Mount Saint Helena could be seen towering in the air.
There, in the nick, just where the eastern foothills joined the
mountain, and she herself began to rise above the zone of forest--
there was Silverado. The name had already pleased me; the high
station pleased me still more. I began to inquire with some
eagerness. It was but a little while ago that Silverado was a
great place. The mine--a silver mine, of course--had promised
great things. There was quite a lively population, with several
hotels and boarding-houses; and Kelmar himself had opened a branch
store, and done extremely well--"Ain't it?" he said, appealing to
his wife. And she said, "Yes; extremely well." Now there was no
one living in the town but Rufe the hunter; and once more I heard
Rufe's praises by the yard, and this time sung in chorus.
I could not help perceiving at the time that there was something
underneath; that no unmixed desire to have us comfortably settled
had inspired the Kelmars with this flow of words. But I was
impatient to be gone, to be about my kingly project; and when we
were offered seats in Kelmar's waggon, I accepted on the spot. The
plan of their next Sunday's outing took them, by good fortune, over
the border into Lake County. They would carry us so far, drop us
at the Toll House, present us to the Hansons, and call for us again
on Monday morning early.
