Humboldt County
History
History of Humboldt County California - Historic Record Co., Los Angeles, 1915
CHAPTER IV.
Land Discovery of Humboldt Bay
So long as men continue to have a strain of the boyish love of adventure in them, a certain fascination will attach to stories that pertain to what pioneers have done in new countries. Parkman's histories of the adventures of sturdy pioneers among the Indians of Canada and the United States, Winthrop's stories of canoe and saddle among the rivers and forests of Washington, pictures of the lone Oregon trail, and even the scenes depicted by Fenimore Cooper, have their counterpart very largely in the events that culminated in the land discovery of Humboldt bay, which was more than half a century after its discovery by Captain Winship and his party, in command of the Russian ship Ocean.
It was not until many thrilling adventures had been experienced that L. K. Wood and his party looked upon the great wall of breakers at Humboldt bar. Days and nights of weary marching, experiences in wild camps, and battling with the elements were the prelude to the discovery. The story has been simply and beautifully told by the late L. K. Wood, a prominent member of the party that made the discovery.
According to his narrative, the month of October, 1849, found him on Trinity river, at a point now called Rich bar. He was there poorly provisioned and poorly clad, at the beginning of the winter season, which is one of heavy rains and impassable roads except where civilization has tamed the elements, bridged the streams, and bade the torrents to leave the well-built roads unmolested. In 1849 winter meant raging torrents that could not be crossed.
The little company at Rich bar numbered some thirty persons, every one of whom was in about the same condition as that of Mr. Wood—ill fitted for the season. Not far from the bar was an Indian ranch, the inhabitants of which often visited the white men. It was here that the members of the party first learned that the ocean was only about eight days' travel from Rich bar, also that "a large and beautiful bay existed, surrounded by extensive prairie lands."
In spite of alternating rain and snow this story impelled a number of the party to conceive the idea of a journey to the bay thus described. If the camp had been well provisioned, perhaps, there would have been no such thought at that particular season but food and supplies were pretty well exhausted, and there seemed little probability of replenishment. It was therefore necessity, in part, that determined some of the company to make a strike for the south, where they might find game and a camp for the season.
Josiah Gregg, a physician from Missouri, was the first and most active promoter of the expedition. He had with him compasses and "the implements necessary to guide us through the uninhabited, trackless region," says Mr. Wood, "and no one seemed better qualified to guide and direct an expedition of this kind than he. Upon him, therefore, the choice fell to take command."
Accordingly twenty-four men determined to make a start for the region thus glowingly described by the ranchmen. Dr. Gregg made arrangements with the chief owner of the ranch to engage two of his workmen as guides, as they were more or less familiar with the country. It was decided that the start should be made on November 5 if the torrential rains that had long been falling should abate.
But November 5 brought no improvement in the weather, for the rain had by that time turned to snow and the resolution of some of the party choked within their breasts. They had not the courage to make the start. To add to the confusion the Indian guides declined to leave their homes, stoutly maintaining that the terrific rains along the river had been heavy snow storms in the mountains, and that by reason of the depth of the drifts the lives of the entire party would be endangered. The Indians were right in assuming that the journey would be a perilous one. Their judgment disheartened all of the party but eight, which consisted of the following persons : Dr. Josiah Gregg, captain of the company ; Thomas Seabring, of Ottawa, Ill.; David A. Buck, of New York ; J. B. Truesdell, of Oregon ; one Van Duzen, whose Christian name has not been preserved and whose native land is not known ; Charles C. Southard, of Boston; Isaac Wilson, of Missouri ; and L. K. Wood, of Mason county, Ky.
An examination of the food supplies indicated that there was barely enough flour for ten days, while of pork and beans there was scarcely enough for so long. Undeterred by the appearance of the commissary department, the restless little party broke camp and made the start. Mr. Wood remarks : "Here commenced an expedition the marked and prominent features of which were constant and unmitigated toil, hardship, privation, and suffering. Before us, stretching as far as the eye could reach, lay mountains, high and rugged, deep valleys and difficult canyons, now filled with water by the recent heavy rains."
But the intrepid little band started away from the fires of the old camp, leaving the river and the rains for the snows and perils of the mountains, over which the ascent was steep, tedious, and extremely difficult. Hunger, danger and fatigue were the ever-present companions of that historic march. Often there was no trail or guide save the path of elk or the dim signs of an old Indian route. The undergrowth in the forests was dense, and the ground was completely saturated with water. After the company had plodded its weary way out of the slippery mud, its members beheld a great stretch of snow in all directions, with no sign of road or trail. The narrator adds : "We now had to grope our way as best we might. Slowly and silently we continued to ascend the steepest part of the mountain in order to shorten the distance."
A feeling of desolation and inexpressible fear seized the party as it gazed upon the great wastes from the summit. As they looked upon the untrodden wilds that stretched in all directions, they realized that great piles of snow-crested mountains lay between them and the valley they would reach. But it was realized that the time for reconsidering the choice was over. The duty of the hour lay in marching on.
It was now sunset and preparations were made for rest and food. Camping on that bleak and lonely mountain, where blinding storms and terrible gales might come at any moment was an experience that tested the courage of the brave men of the party.
The animals were speedily unpacked, after which men and beasts were fed. Then the adventurers took their saddles and blankets from their horses and threw them on the snow, pillowed thus through the lonely watches of the first night. Mr. Wood does not go into details as to food, conversations and minor matters. His narrative indicates that everybody was intent on making an early start the second day. He simply tells us that at an early hour in the morning, having breakfasted, the journey was resumed.
The second day's journey was to descend the mountain, and to do this without deviating more than necessary from the course that led to the bay. Owing to the fact that the course lay almost west and that the mountains and the coast paralleled each other in a line running from north to south, it was necessary to pass over a constant succession of mountains, now over the top of one, then through the deep valley beneath, and again climbing the steep sides of another. Mr. Wood adds : "Nothing worthy of notice beyond the weary routine of constant traveling by day, and stretching our weary limbs upon the snow or cold, wet ground by night occurred during the succeeding four days."
But more stirring events were soon to break the monotony of the journey. Mr. Wood says : "Toward evening of the next day, while passing over a sterile, rugged country, we heard what appeared to be the rolling and breaking of surf upon a distant sea shore, or the roaring of some mighty waterfall. A halt was therefore determined upon, and we resolved to ascertain the cause of this before proceeding farther, and here we pitched our camp."
David A. Buck either volunteered or was detailed to make his way toward the sound of the breakers. He made his start the next morning. Just before night he returned to the camp, bringing with him a quantity of sand which, from its appearance, as well as that of the place from which he gathered it, he thought indicated the presence of gold. As the party was not on a gold-hunting expedition at the moment, but in search of the bay, it was decided to press toward the coast. But it should be explained that Mr. Buck really found the source of the noise. It was a stream which rushed with swollen violence over a steep descent. He had discovered the south fork of the Trinity river. The company found it impossible to cross until the junction of the stream with the Trinity was discovered.
The river was crossed, whereupon the company came suddenly upon an Indian ranch. Men, women and children fled. The scene was somewhat ludicrous all round, as the party itself had no suspicion that Indians dwelt there. The firearms of the party were wholly unfit for use, being soaked with rain, The narrative of Mr. Wood as to the episode with the Indians here follows:
"The scene that followed wholly divested our minds of all apprehension of danger, for as soon as they saw us, men, women and children fled in the wildest
confusion, some plunging headlong into the river, not venturing to look behind them until they had reached a considerable elevation upon the mountain on the opposite side of the river, while others sought refuge in the thickets and among the rocks, leaving everything behind them. As soon as they had stopped in their flight, we endeavored, by signs, to induce those yet in view to return, giving them to understand, as best we could, that we intended them no harm ; but it was all for a time to no purpose. They had never before seen a white man, nor had they received any intelligence of our coming; and to their being thus suddenly brought in contact with a race of beings so totally different in color, dress, and appearance from any they had ever seen or heard of, is attributable the overwhelming fear they betrayed.
"Our stock of provisions was now nearly exhausted, and what portion of our journey had been accomplished we were of course entirely ignorant. One thing, however, was apparent—that from then forward, upon Providence and our good rifles our dependence for food must rest.
"Having failed to induce the Indians to return, and observing that they had considerable quantities of salmon in their huts, which they had obtained and cured for their subsistence during the winter, we helped ourselves to as much as we wanted, leaving in its place a quantity of venison that had been killed by some of our party a short time previously, invoking as a justification for so doing the old adage 'a fair exchange is no robbery,' and pressed forward on our journey with all diligence.
"We had hoped that the Indians would not care to become better acquainted with us, and would allow us to pass unmolested. Imagine our surprise, then, when we were about camping for the night, there came marching toward us some seventy-five or eighty warriors, their faces and bodies painted, looking like so many demons, and armed and prepared for battle." The guns and ammunition of the little company were soaking wet and worthless except as clubs. It was a grave question what to do, but it was quickly decided to assume an air of indifference. When they came within a hundred yards of us, however, we motioned to them to halt," says the narrator, "and they obeyed. Two of the company then advanced holding up to the view of the savages a number of beads and other fancy articles which the travelers were fortunate enough to possess. The warriors seemed greatly pleased with the articles, soon after which they were persuaded that the invaders were friendly and had no desire to hurt the Indians. The savages soon became friendly. They represented that their people were very numerous and that the travelers were at their mercy. They made it plain that they could at any moment slaughter the entire company. We soon started to convince them that they were mistaken and that a small company like ours could do wonders with our weapons."
Their curiosity was roused, and they wondered how the weapons were used. In order to accomplish their purpose, the white men gave them to understand that the guns could kill as many of them at a single shot as could stand, one behind another. They were not satisfied and expressed their doubts. They demanded to see the effect of shooting at a mark. The white men, knowing of the unfit condition of their weapons, agreed to make a display of their power the next morning.
"Prudence and due regard for our safety compelled us to keep a careful watch during the night," runs the story of Mr. Wood, "but notwithstanding this, and the fact that some of the company felt little inclined to sleep, one of their expert thieves, aided by the pitchy darkness, crept to the spot where we were camped and took from beneath a pair of blankets a Colt's revolver without detection. This was surprising to all, especially to the owner of the revolver, who could not sleep and was doubtless awake while the Indian was at his side."
It was the intention of the company to escape at dawn, but the Indians, anticipating this course, had gathered in great numbers, bringing their women and children to the spot. It was then decided, as the ammunition had been dried and the guns prepared, to give the promised demonstration. Here is the way the event culminated :
A piece of paper some two inches in diameter was handed to an Indian, who was asked to fasten it on a tree about sixty paces distant. It was explained that the marksman would shoot and that the ball would strike the paper. The Indians were arranged in a circle, full of curiosity. It was purposely not explained that the weapon would make any noise, so when the explosion occurred the entire party was panic-stricken. The women and children set up a terrific shrieking, at the same time dispersing in all directions. They feared that the warriors had been slain, but when they saw that nobody was hurt they returned to see what had happened to the tree. They carefully examined the hole in the paper, noting also that the bullet had penetrated the tree and disappeared in its depths.
"They now seemed disposed to treat us with greater respect," says Wood. "Taking advantage of the impression thus created, we tried to convince them that our small company was able to cope with all they could bring against us, and explained the force of a bullet thrown from one of our guns." It was also explained that the power of the gun was as much greater than the power of an arrow as its noise was louder.
The Indians then warned the company that the course it was pursuing would bring it in conflict with Indians who would interfere. It had been intended to go along the river, but the Indians advised the party to strike for the west. This advice was taken, and the party at once began the ascent of the mountain that lay in its path.
The only provisions left by this time were flour and a paste made therefrom. It was devoured with avidity, but on the night of November 13 the party went to bed dinnerless. The animals had been without food for two days, but were now eating grass.
Marching under these conditions, hungry and tired, it was sometimes thought best to try to return, but the suggestion was always overruled, for it was believed that the coast must be closer than the old camp. After picking their way carefully for a day, through a dense forest, a prairie was discovered. On the morning of the next day every member of the party started in search of game. Several deer were killed, and the half-famished company broiled the steaks in the ashes of the camp. It was determined to rest a few days to recuperate. During the stay a good quantity of venison was cured.
This venison was consumed during the march, and three days of fasting followed for men and beasts. Now and then trees were cut down in order to give the animals a chance to eat the leaves. Two of the horses were so famished that they were abandoned to die. At this apparently hopeless stage of the march a fertile prairie was again discovered. It afforded rich food for the horses, while plenty of venison was obtained for the men. A delay of three days was decided upon, during which a quantity of venison was prepared to be taken along.
As two animals had been left behind, it was necessary to load those remaining pretty heavily with provisions.
At the end of ten days the food was again exhausted and no living game was in sight. For several days the party lived on bitter nuts which looked like acorns. Only a few could be eaten, however, as they proved an emetic in larger doses. Mr. Wood says : "Not one experience for days was without its hardships, privations, and almost starvation. At last we reached another opening in this wide forest, and without first selecting a camping place, as was usual with us, we hastened to search for food."
It was not long before a band of elk was observed, likewise deer in another direction. The party separated and resolved to attack the elk from different directions.
Mr. Wood soon heard some shots in quick succession, whereupon he hastened to the spot and found that Van Duzen had killed two grizzly bears and broken the back of a third one which lay near at hand. Two other grizzlies snarled and growled close at hand. These two were killed, one by Wood, one by Wilson, who had come upon the scene after hearing so much firing. The elk were lost, but several deer were brought to camp before nightfall. A delay of five days for rest and the curing of venison saw the party ready to proceed on its perilous journey once more.
It was found that the party had not averaged more than seven miles a day in its traveling, but the mountains were less steep and it was believed that a level country was not far away. The journey was resumed with lighter hearts and more buoyant hopes than for some days. It was believed that the coast must be within twelve or fourteen miles of the last camp, and this surmise was correct. Heavy redwood forests were encountered, and it was found that some of the trees were fully twenty-two feet in diameter. It was found impossible to travel more than two miles a day through the forests. Fallen trees were the chief impediment. No animals were encountered in the deep forests.
On the evening of the third day from our bear camp, as we called it, our ears were greeted with the welcome sound of the surf rolling and beating upon the sea shore. There was no doubt or mistake about it this time. The lofty tops caught the sound, which the deep stillness of a night in a forest rendered the more plainly audible ; and echoed it back to our attentive ears.
The following morning Messrs. Wilson and Van Duzen proposed to go to the coast in advance of the company, and at the same time to mark out the best route for the animals; to which proposition all agreed, and accordingly they left camp. In the evening of the same day they returned, bringing the glad tidings that they had reached the sea shore, and that it was not more than six miles distant.
At an early hour in the morning we resumed our journey with renewed spirits and courage. For three long days did we toil in these redwoods. Exhaustion and almost starvation had reduced the animals to the last extremity. Three had just died, and the remainder were so much weakened and reduced that it constituted no small part of our labor and annoyance in assisting them to get up when they had fallen, which happened every time they were unfortunate enough to stumble against the smallest obstacle that lay in their path, and not one single effort would they make to recover their feet until that assistance came. At length we issued from this dismal forest prison, in which we had so long been shut up, into the open country, and at the same instant in full view of that vast world of water—the Pacific ocean.
Never shall I forget the thrill of joy and delight that animated me as I stood upon the sandy barrier that bounds and restrains those mighty waters.
It seemed like meeting some dear old friend, whose memory with joy I had treasured during long years of separation, and as the well spent surf glided upon the beach, bathing my very feet, a thousand recollections like magic flooded my mind. I felt as though there was yet some hope of deliverance from these sufferings. What a precious gift to man is hope! To no one is it denied, nor under any circumstances ; it throws a ray of light over the darkest scene; it is a pleasure as lasting as it is great—it may be deferred but it never dies. To me, at times, its rays were as bright as the beams of a noonday sun, and anon obscure as the faint and uncertain glimmering of a dim and distant light.
Our appetites, having again been sharpened by more than two days of fasting, soon awakened us from our pleasing reveries, and reminded us of the necessity of immediately going in search of food. Not long after we had separated for that purpose, Van Duzen shot a bald eagle, and Southard, a raven which was devouring a dead fish thrown upon the beach by the surf. These they brought into camp, and all, eagle, raven and half-devoured fish, were stewed together for our supper, after partaking of which we retired to our blankets and enjoyed a good night's rest.
Our prospects for a meal the next day were anything but flattering. Dr. Gregg therefore requested me to return to my mule which had fallen down the day before and been left to die, and take out his heart and liver and bring them to camp. I accordingly went, but judge of my surprise, when approaching the spot where I had left him, to find him quietly feeding. I determined at once not to obey my orders, and, instead thereof, drove him into camp.
The point at which we struck the coast was at the mouth of a small stream now known by the name of Little river. From this point we pushed on northward, following the coast line about eleven miles, when a small lake or lagoon arrested our progress. Finding it impossible to proceed further without encountering the redwood forest, which we were not in the least inclined to do, it was determined that we should retrace our steps and proceed south, following the coast to San Francisco, if such a course was possible. Traveling south about eight miles, we made a halt at a point or headland, which we had passed on our way up from where we first struck the coast. This we called "Gregg's Point", and is now known as Trinidad.
During our journey over the mountains the old Doctor took several observations in order to prevent as much as possible a departure from the general course given us by the Indians. As we advanced, and our toil and sufferings accumulated, we gradually cultivated a distaste for such matters, and at an early day regarded his scientific experiments with indifference, while later in our journey they were looked upon with contempt. It was not unusual, therefore, for us to condemn him in most unmeasured terms for wasting his time and energies about that which would neither benefit him nor us in the least, or be of any service to others.
From an observation taken on this plateau, where the town of Trinidad is now situated, this point was found to be in latitude forty degrees, six minutes north. This the old gentleman took the trouble to engrave upon the trunk of a tree standing near by, for the benefit, as he said, of those who might hereafter visit the spot, if perchance such an occurrence should ever happen. Here we remained two days, living on mussels and dried salmon, which we obtained from the Indians, of whom we found many.
Again we resumed our journey. In crossing a deep gulch, a short distance from the point, the Doctor had the misfortune to have two of his animals mire down. He called lustily for assistance, but no one of the company would aid him to rescue them. We had been annoyed so much, and detained so long, in lifting fallen mules (some remembered the treatment they received when in a similar predicament) that one and all declared they would no longer lend assistance to man or beast, and that from this time forward each would constitute a company by himself, under obligations to no one, and free to act as best suited his notions.
In obedience to this resolve I immediately set about making arrangements in regard to myself. Having for some time noticed the rapid strides the company were making toward disruption, and anticipating a result similar to that which had just transpired, I visited the chief of a tribe of Indians who lived close at hand, and explained to him as best I could what I wanted and intended to do, provided we could agree. I gave him to understand that I desired to remain with him awhile, and that if he would protect me and take care of my mule, and give me a place in , his wigwam, I would furnish him with all the elk meat he wanted. To this he readily acquiesced, and in addition returned many assurances that nothing should harm either me or mine.
When the company were again about starting—for they all seemed bound in the same direction, whether in conformity to an agreed plan, or involuntarily, I did not know—they discovered that I was not prepared to accompany them, and demanded to know why I did not get ready. I then informed them of my determination, and the agreement I had made with the Indian chief. All were violently opposed to the agreement, and urged as a reason why I should not persist in such a determination that when all together we were not sufficiently strong to pass through this Indian country in safety, should they see fit to oppose us, and that to remain with them would be to abandon myself to certain destruction, while at the same time it would lessen the probability of any of them reaching the settlements in safety. I told them I had no horse that could travel, that I was not able to walk, and that I would as soon be killed by the Indians as again to incur the risk of starvation, or, perhaps, that which was worse, fall a victim to cannibalism.
Truesdell, who had two animals left, offered to sell me one of them for $100 if I would continue with them. I finally accepted the offer and proceeded with them.
Little river was soon recrossed, after which nothing occurred to interrupt our progress until we reached another stream, which was then a large river, being swollen by the heavy rains. Its banks ran full, and its waters, near the mouth, appeared deep and moved so slowly and gently that we concluded it must be a navigable stream. Our next difficulty was to cross this river. Here the harmony that had existed for so short a time was again disturbed.
The Doctor wished to ascertain the latitude of the mouth of the river, in order hereafter to know where it was. This was of course opposed by the rest of the company. Regardless of this opposition, he proceeded to take his observation. We were, however, equally obstinate in adhering to the determination of proceeding without delay. Thus decided, our animals were speedily crossed over, and our blankets and ourselves placed in canoes—which we had procured from the Indians for this purpose—ready to cross. As the canoes were about pushing off, the Doctor, as if convinced that we would carry our determination into effect, and he be left behind, hastily caught up his instruments and ran for the canoe, to reach which, however, he was compelled to wade several steps in the water. His cup of wrath was now filled to the brim, but he remained silent until the opposite shore was gained, when he opened upon us a perfect battery of the most withering and violent abuse. Several times during the ebullition of the old man's passion he indulged in such insulting language and comparisons that some of the party, at best not too amiable in their disposition, came very near inflicting upon him summary punishment by consigning him, instruments and all, to this beautiful river. Fortunately for the old gentleman, pacific councils prevailed, and we were soon ready and off again. This stream, in commemoration of the difficulty I have just related, we called Mad river.
We continued on down the beach a short time, when night overtaking us, we camped. So long a time had elapsed since our departure from the Trinity river, and so constant the suffering, toil and danger to which we had been exposed, that the main object of the expedition had been quite forgotten, and our only thought and sole aim seemed to be, how we should extricate ourselves from the situation we were in, and when we might exchange it for one of more comfort and less exposure and danger.
Immediately after halting, Buck and myself went in search of water. It had been our custom, whenever night happened to overtake us, there to camp—the almost ceaseless falling of the rain affording us a continual supply of water. This night, however, we camped in some sand hills, about a mile back from the beach without giving a thought how we should get water. A short distance from camp we separated, Buck going in one direction and I in another. I soon found slough water, which, although not altogether agreeable and pleasant to the taste, I concluded would answer our purpose, and returned with some of it to camp. Not long after, Buck came in and placed his kettle of water before us without anything being said. The Doctor, not relishing the water I had brought, and being somewhat thirsty, was the first to taste the other. The suddenness with which the water was spat out, after it had passed his lips, was a sufficient warning to the rest of us. The Doctor asked Mr. Buck where he got that water. Buck replied, "About half a mile from here." The Doctor remarked, "You certainly did not get it out of the ocean, and we would like to know where you did get it." Buck answered, "I dipped it out of a bay of smooth water." This excited our curiosity and Buck seemed, at the time, to be rather dogged and not much disposed to gratify us by explanations. It was dusk, and he could not tell the extent of the bay. This was the night of the 20th of December, 1849, and was undoubtedly the first discovery of this bay by Americans, notwithstanding a Capt. Douglass Ottinger claims to have first discovered it.* We gave it the name of Trinity bay, but before we could return to it, Captain Ottinger, with a party by water, discovered it and gave it the name of Humboldt bay.
(*See chapter on discovery by Captain Winship in 1806.)
The next morning, by daylight, we were up and moved our camp over to the bay, and stopped there during the day. This was opposite the point where Bucksport now stands. We encamped, the night previous, under a group of small trees in the sand hills lying between the bay and the ocean, on the strip of land now known as the Peninsula or North Beach. The reason we had not discovered the bay the day previous, in traveling down from the mouth of Mad river, was because we followed the beach—it being hard sand and easy traveling—and the low hills and timber on the strip of land, lying between the ocean and the bay, shut out the latter entirely from our view.
During the day we remained here, the Indians came to our camp, and we learned from them that we could not follow down the beach on account of the entrance of the bay, which was just below us. Mr. Buck, however, to satisfy us, took an Indian with him and started down to the entrance. When he returned he reported quite a large and apparently deep stream connecting the bay with the ocean, and considerable swell setting in, which he thought would make it dangerous to attempt to cross. The Indians also represented that it was deeper than the trees growing on the peninsula were tall ; so we abandoned the idea of attempting to cross it.
Where we camped was the narrowest part of the bay, being the channel abreast of Bucksport, and the Indians assured us that we could swim our animals across there, and offered to take us over in their canoes. Most of the party, including Dr. Gregg, were of the same opinion, but some of the company opposing the project, we packed up next morning and started northward, keeping as near the bay as the small sloughs would permit, for the purpose of heading it. After making the way through brush and swamp, swimming sloughs and nearly drowning ourselves and animals, we arrived toward night on the second day, after leaving our camp opposite Bucksport, on a beautiful plateau near the highland and redwoods, at the northeast end of the bay. At this point, which commands a fine view of the bay, stretching out to the southwest, we made a halt, and it being nearly night, pitched our camp. This plateau is the present site of the town of Union (now Arcata).
Our camp was near the little spring, about two hundred yards from the east side of the Plaza, towards the woods. I have seen some of the old tent pins, still remaining there, within the last year (1872).
As soon as we had unpacked some of the party started in search of game, and soon came across a fine band of elk, a little north of our camp, about where the cemetery now is, and fired several shots, wounding two or three, but they succeeded in reaching the thicket in the edge of the redwoods, and dark setting in they could not be found. We therefore did not get any supper that night. The next morning, early, some went in search of the elk and found one of them in the brush, dead, and brought it to camp.
The next morning, December 25th, we roasted the elk's head in the ashes and this constituted our Christmas feast. This was my first Christmas in California, and, having been reduced so often to the point of starvation, we enjoyed this simple fare, yet, you may rest assured, it was not that "Merry Christmas" I had been accustomed to in Kentucky with the "old folks at home." This day we moved down to the point of high prairie, near the mouth of Freshwater slough at the east side of the bay, and there camped.
The next day we made our way through the woods, following an indistinct Indian trail, back of where the town (now city) of Eureka is situated, and came out at the open space in the rear of where Bucksport now stands, which place derives its name from one of our party, David A. Buck. We pitched our camp near the bluff, on the top of which is at present Fort Humboldt.
The next day we followed down the bay, crossing Elk river, to Humboldt Point. Here we were visited by the chief of the tribe of Indians in the vicinity of the bay, who was an elderly and a very dignified and intelligent Indian. He appeared friendly and seemed disposed to afford us every means of comfort in his power. He supplied us with a quantity of clams, upon which we feasted sumptuously. The evening we arrived here some of the party went out on the slope of prairie to the east of our camp and killed an elk, and while there taking care of it we sent a note over to them and received one in return, by this chief, who would not allow any other Indian to carry it, but insisted upon being the bearer himself. He seemed anxious to arrive at the secret of this means of communication, and would watch to see what effect the piece of written paper would have on the one to whom he delivered it. This old man's name we learned was Ki-we-lat-tah. He is still (1872) living on the bay, and has always been known as a quiet and friendly Indian.
It had been our intention at the outset, if we succeeded in discovering the bay, and provided the surrounding country was adapted to agricultural purposes, and was sufficiently extensive, to locate claims for ourselves, and lay out a town, but the deplorable condition in which we now found ourselves, reduced in strength, health impaired, our ammunition nearly exhausted—upon which we were entirely dependent; as well for the little food we could obtain as for our defense and protection—and destitute of either farming or mechanical implements, induced us to abandon such intention, at least for the present, and use all possible dispatch in making our way to the settlements.
Accordingly, having remained at this camping place one day, we turned our faces toward the south. Our progress was extremely slow, as the rain was falling almost incessantly, rendering travel difficult and fatiguing.
The third day after leaving the bay we reached another river, which arrested our advance in that direction. Upon approaching this river we came suddenly upon two very old Indians, who at seeing us fell to the ground as if they had been shot. We dismounted and made them get up, giving them to understand that we were their friends ; but it was with difficulty that we succeeded in quieting their fears. They were loaded with eels, which they informed us they obtained from the river. Our appetites being in just such a condition that anything, not absolutely poisonous, on which a meal could be made, would be palatable, without asking many questions, we helped ourselves to nearly the whole of their load. Near where we met these Indians, we got them, with their canoes, to set us across the river, which was at this time a large stream, the water being high. We swam our animals as usual. The point where we crossed was just below the junction of Van Duzen's fork, which latter stream takes its name from one of our party. Here we remained two days, during which time we lived upon eels obtained from the Indians. In exchange for these we gave them some beads and some small pieces of iron. They seemed to value these pieces of iron more highly than anything else we had to dispose of. I took an old frying pan, that had been rendered comparatively useless, having lost its handle and being otherwise considerably damaged, and broke it into small strips. With these I kept the company supplied with eels during our stay, often obtaining as many as three dozen for one piece. We gave to this stream the name of Eel river.
At this camp a controversy arose among us in relation to the course now to be pursued. Some contended that we should follow the coast down to San Francisco. Others again, urged as the shortest and most advantageous route to proceed up this river as far as its course seemed to suit, and then leave it and strike southerly for the nearest settlement.
Neither party seemed inclined to yield to the other. Not all the arguments that the most peaceably disposed members of the company could adduce could quell the storm that was gathering. Harsh words passed, and threats were interchanged. As all prospects of a reconciliation had been abandoned, Seabring, Buck, Wilson and myself resolved to continue on our journey together, over the route we had advocated. Accordingly we separated, and although the rain was falling in torrents, we left the camp.
As before stated, our intention was to continue along the river, believing that by so doing our progress would be more rapid, and that the chances for obtaining food would be better. In this, however, we were sadly disappointed, for as we advanced, the country became more and more uneven, and at last mountainous. The spurs from the mountains extending down to the river's edge, became so abrupt and the ravines between so deep, as to render it extremely difficult to get our animals over them. We toiled along, however, until the third day when we determined to leave the river. Our hope was to find some mountain ridge leading in a southeasterly direction—that being about the course we desired to take—and with this view we ascended the mountain.
The day after we left the river it commenced snowing, which, in a short time, so completely obliterated all there was of a trail, and shut from our view every land mark that could guide us in our course, that we were compelled to camp. Our situation now was indeed deplorable. At no time before had we been so completely destitute, and never had our prospects been so gloomy and disheartening. Fast being hemmed in with snow, without food either for ourselves or our animals, it seemed to us inevitable that our only alternative was to apply to that resource which we had with so much trouble and care preserved and kept with us—namely, our mules. We had for some time passed thought that a misfortune like that which now seemed imminent, might overtake us, and therefore looked upon them as serving us in additional capacity of food, when necessity might compel us to resort to them.
While the snow was yet not too deep, the animals, with their feet, pawed the grass bare, and thus obtained all there was to eat. We, too, were fortunate enough to kill a small deer. Five days elapsed before we were able to move from this camping place, and then not in the direction we desired, for the great quantity of snow that had fallen presented an impassable barrier to our progress, consequently we were compelled to return to the river.
The small supply which the deer afforded us was not more than sufficient to soothe the hunger pains with which we had, with little interruption, been suffering; and by the time we had extricated ourselves from our unfortunate situation in the snow, nothing remained of the deer but the skin.
We continued our course up the river as best we could, sometimes aided by an Indian or elk trail, at others literally cutting our way along. Upon passing from the forest into a small opening, we came suddenly upon five grizzly bears. Wilson and myself immediately went in pursuit of them, but unfortunately met with no further success than to wound one of them severely. The day following this, while traveling over a piece of mountain prairie, and passing a small ravine or gulch, we espied a group of no less than eight more of these animals. Although exhausted from fatigue, and so reduced in strength that we were scarcely able to drag ourselves along, yet we determined to attack these grim customers.
For several days all that we had or could obtain to subsist upon was the deerskin which we had saved, and a few buckeyes. The former we cut up and boiled in water, and afterward drank the water and chewed the hide.
Wilson, Seabring and myself prepared for the conflict, which it was altogether probable we would have, before the matter ended, and advanced toward them. While yet a long distance from them Seabring sought shelter for himself by climbing a tree, not wishing to hazard the chances of a hand to hand contest with bruin. Wilson and myself advanced until within about one hundred yards of the nearest of them when a consultation was again held in relation to the mode of making the attack.
It was arranged that I should approach as near as possible and fire, then make the best of my way to some tree for safety. The latter part of the arrangement I did not assent to, for one very good reason—I was so completely prostrated from exposure and starvation that had I the will to run, my limbs would scarcely have been able to execute their functions. We continued to approach our antagonists until within about fifty paces, when I leveled my rifle at the one nearest me, and after careful aim, fired. The shot was, to all appearances, a fatal one, for the huge monster fell, biting and tearing the earth with all the fury of one struggling in death. As soon as I had fired, Wilson said to me, in a low tone of voice, "Run! run !" Instead, however, of yielding to his advice, I immediately commenced reloading my rifle. Wilson now discharged his gun at another with equal success.
When I had fired, five of the bears started up the mountain. Two now lay upon the ground before us, and a third yet remained, deliberately sitting back upon her haunches and evidently determined not to yield the ground without a contest, looking first upon her fallen companions and then upon us.
Wilson now thought it about time to retreat, and accordingly made the best of his way to a tree. Unfortunately for me, I could not get the ball down upon the powder, and in this predicament, so soon as Wilson started to run, the bear came dashing at me with fury. I succeeded, however, in getting beyond her reach in a small buckeye tree. I now made another effort to force the ball down my rifle but with no better success than at first, and was therefore compelled to use it to beat the bear off as she attacked the tree, for the purpose of breaking it down or shaking me out of it. She kept me busy at this for two or three minutes, when to my astonishment the bear I had shot down, having recovered sufficiently from the effects of the wound, came bounding toward me with all the violence and ferocity that agony and revenge could engender. No blow that I could inflict upon the head of the maddened monster with my gun could resist or even check her.
The first spring she made upon the tree broke it down. I had the good fortune to gain my feet before they could get hold of me, and ran down the mountain in the direction of a small tree, standing about thirty yards distant. Every jump I made I thought must be my last, as I could distinctly feel the breath of the wounded bear as she grabbed at my heels. I kept clear of her while running, but the race was a short one. On reaching the tree, or rather bush, I seized hold of the trunk of it and swung my body around so as to afford the bear room to pass me, which she did, and went headlong down the hill some twenty paces before she could turn back. I exerted all my energies to climb the tree, but before I could get six feet from the ground, the hindermost bear caught me by the right ankle and dragged me down again. By this time the wounded bear had returned, and, as I fell, grabbed at my face. I, however, dodged, and she caught me by the left shoulder. The moments that followed were the most critical and perilous of my life. Here, then, thought I, was the end of all things to me ! That I must perish—be mangled and torn to pieces—seemed inevitable. During all the time I was thus situated, my presence of mind did not forsake me.
Immediately after the second bear had caught me by the shoulder, the other still having hold of my ankle, the two pulled against each other as if to draw me to pieces; but my clothes and their grip giving way occasionally, saved me. In this way they continued until they had stripped me of my clothes, except a part of my coat and shirt, dislocated my hip, and inflicted many flesh wounds—none of the latter, however, being very serious. They seemed unwilling to take hold of my flesh, for, after they had divested me of my clothes, they both left me—one going away entirely, and the other (the wounded bear) walking slowly up the hill, about one hundred yards from me, and there deliberately seated herself and fastened her gaze upon me as I lay upon the ground perfectly still. After several minutes I ventured to move, which, I suppose, she must have seen, for the first motion brought her pell mell upon me again, roaring at every jump as loud as she could roar. At this moment, I must confess, my presence of mind nearly forsook me. I knew that if she again attacked or took hold of me it must be upon my naked flesh. No sooner had she reached me than she placed her nose violently against my side, and then raised her head and gave vent to two of the most frightful, hideous and unearthly yells that were ever heard by mortal man. I remained perfectly quiet, hoping that by so doing she would leave me, and in this hope I was not disappointed, for after standing over me a short time she again walked away. I now thought she had left for good, and determined to place myself, if possible, beyond her reach, should she, however, return again.
Up to this time I was unconscious of the extent of the injury I had received; that an accident had befallen my leg I was well aware, but not until I attempted to get up was my true situation manifest to me. I then found that I could not use my right leg, and supposed it was broken.
Turning to look about me, to assure myself that my enemy had retired, imagine my surprise at seeing her again not more than one hundred yards distant, sitting back upon her haunches and her eyes glaring full at me. With my leg in the condition I have related, I dragged myself to the buckeye bush, from which I had been pulled down by the bear, and after much difficulty succeeded in climbing up about eight feet. So soon as Wilson had discovered me up the tree, he left his tree and came to me. The bear seeing him, came bounding toward us with great ferocity. Wilson cried, "What in the name of God shall I do ?" I replied that he could come up the limb of the adjoining tree, and he was barely able to get beyond reach, before she arrived. She deliberately seated herself immediately beneath us, and kept her eyes steadily upon us, and as either one or the other of us happened to move, she would utter an angry growl. I observed Wilson present his rifle at her, and not shooting immediately, I said: "Shoot her—for God's sake, shoot her—for she is the beast that did me all the injury I have received !" He watched her eyes closely for a moment with his aim still fixed upon her, and when I again repeated my request for him to shoot, he replied: "No, sir ; let her go—let her go, if she will."
After having detained us in this situation for a few minutes, she went away, and disappeared altogether, much to our joy and relief—thereby giving me an opportunity to get down from the tree.
Now that all fear of further interruption from our late visitor was passed, I began fully to realize my true condition. The wounds I had received became momentarily more painful. As soon as the remainder of the party came up, I was carried some distance down the mountain to a place suitable for camping. Here we remained twelve days, subsisting entirely upon the meat afforded by the bear Wilson shot in the late encounter.
It now became a source of much anxiety to know when and how we should leave this place, or what disposition they would make of me, as I seemed to grow worse, instead of better. It was thought by remaining in camp for ten or twelve days my wounds would have so far healed as to enable us to resume our journey ; but no one, not even myself, supposed that the injuries I had received were of so serious a character as they now proved to be. Finding, however, at the expiration of that time, that my condition had in nowise improved, they consulted me in relation to the course that should be adopted. That it was necessary, absolutely so, that no more time should be lost, all insisted, as we were entirely stripped of clothing and without shoes to protect our feet from the thorns and briers that were ever in our path. All were becoming aware of the fact that their strength and health were fast failing, and although we had, from the outset, been gradually trained to bear cold, hunger and pain, yet it was too evident that our powers of endurance were seriously impaired. They urged, as a further reason, that our ammunition was now nearly or quite exhausted, upon which our sole dependence rested for the scanty supply of food that we could obtain. The meaning of this was obvious to me, and in reply I said to them, that they had remained with me as long as I could expect or ask ; that they were bound to save themselves if they could, and that they ought not to allow me to be in their way ; but as they had seen proper to speak of the matter, I would ask of them one other favor. I suggested two ways in which they could dispose of me, either of which I would prefer to being abandoned to my fate in the condition and place in which I now was. The first, was to induce the Indians, who had visited us during our stay here, to take care of me until they could go to a settlement and return; and the second was, to put an end to my sufferings. They cheerfully sought the chief of these Indians, and explained to him what they desired to do, and in turn what they required of him, to all of which he apparently readily assented, and promised faithfully to attend to me and supply me with food until they could return. He agreed to come the next morning and convey me to his ranch, which was about three miles distant, and situated upon the river.
At the appointed time the old chief presented himself, together with three of his men, and expressed his readiness to fulfill his agreement. One of them gave me several varieties of herbs, which I accepted and ate, and gave him to understand that they were very good. Before taking me, however, they demanded some presents as a compensation for the services they were about to render. All the beads and trinkets in our possession were gathered together and given them. These, however, were not sufficient, and more were required. Their demand for more was repeated, and compliance on our part yielded, until everything we had, save such things as necessity absolutely required us to retain—even blankets that had been allotted to me—were given up to him, in order, if possible, to avoid offending them. At length they seemed satisfied that they had gotten all they could, when the chief very cooly turned to his men and bade them to return to their homes, he following after them, leaving us to regret the folly and indiscretion committed, in reposing too much confidence in a race of beings known by all experience to be totally unworthy of it.
While these preliminaries were being arranged, I was busied in dragging myself upon a litter that had been prepared for me. This was a difficult task. I could not endure assistance, my leg was so much swollen and inflamed, and so exceedingly sensitive in getting upon it. I, however, finally succeeded, and, had prepared myself to bid farewell, most likely forever, to my companions who had so patiently submitted to the great delay to which they had been subjected, through the misfortune that had overtaken me, and who had so calmly and quietly, without a single murmur, endured intense sufferings. When, however, I saw these treacherous villains leave us with their ill-gotten booty, my heart for a moment ceased to beat. The first thought that possessed my brain was that my fate was sealed—that death awaited me. Either I should be abandoned in these desolate solitudes, to endure the gnawing pangs of hunger, and at last to perish alone, a victim of starvation, or they would release me from these accumulated tortures by shooting me ; for in this light I viewed it, and therefor preferred the latter alternative.
A solemn and profound silence now prevailed with all—a silence which no one seemed disposed to interrupt. I turned my face from my companions, that they might not be embarrassed in their consultation, or in carrying into execution any determination that they might arrive at, particularly if it should be to relieve me of my sufferings by shooting me.
The conversation was carried on in a low, indistinct tone of voice, for some time. Occasionally detached portions of sentences would reach my ears ; enough, however, to satisfy my mind that there was a difference of opinion in relation to the course they should now adopt. At length, Wilson's voice rose above the rest, saying, "No ! I will not leave him ! I'll remain with him, if it is alone, or I will pack him if he is able and willing to bear the pain !" This terminated the conversation, and a few moments after Seabring came to me and inquired what should be done. I told him they might pack me to the river, where they had hacked out a canoe for the purpose of crossing, and I would then tell them whether I could continue with them, and in the event of my being unable to endure being packed further, all I had to ask of them was to leave me in the canoe to drift whither fate might direct.
He said, "We cannot pack you, for you have never allowed us to touch you even ; how then can you bear to be placed upon a horse and packed ?" "You are not to consult my wishes in the matter," I replied. "If you have decided not to abandon me, you must do with me as you will. Much longer delay in this place and at this season of the year, may prove fatal to all; self-preservation, therefore, must demand an immediate resumption of our journey, if it be at the risk, and even expense of the life of one."
Wilson then requested me to select whichever animal I preferred ; I, however, chose my own. They now lifted me into the saddle, and spent much time in placing me in a position that would give me the least pain. None, however, seemed to suit, and I asked Seabring, as a particular favor, to exchange saddles, for I thought his would make me more comfortable, and was certain that it could not be worse than mine. They laid me upon the ground, changed the saddles, and
again placed me upon my horse. I said nothing, but the agony I suffered no language can describe. The exchange of saddles aggravated my misery, but I had determined to be satisfied with this, let it be as it would. Seabring led my horse down the mountain, and after a long and tedious march, we reached the river. Here we camped.
When the bear that Wilson had killed in the late encounter had been cut up and brought into camp, the entrails were likewise brought in, carefully cleaned and preserved; the blubber or fat was boiled out and put in these skins and laid aside. On resuming our journey these were taken along, and this we were compelled to drink, as a substitute for other food, before we reached the settlements.
The next morning I was again consulted, and asked if I were able to continue on with them. I replied that as long as I lived, if it so pleased them, I desired to have them pack me, and should I die, that they could cut the cords that bound me to my horse and pass on. I could not ask or expect them to bury me, for there were no tools among the company with which to dig a grave.
Again was I bound upon my horse and packed until another camp was reached, enjoying only an occasional respite, to allow my benumbed limbs to recover from the effects produced by being confined in one position for so long a time.
In this manner we continued on, with little or no change in the occurrences that happened, for the period of ten days—following down the Russian river a long distance, and then striking across toward Sonoma. At the expiration of this time, we arrived at the ranch of Mrs. Mark West, about thirty miles from the town of Sonoma, on the 17th day of February, 1850. Here I remained about six weeks, until sufficiently recovered to proceed to San Francisco, and was treated with the greatest kindness by every member of the family.
I must now tell you something of the other four—Messrs. Gregg, VanDuzen, Southard and Truesdell—whom we left on Eel river, and within twenty miles of the bay or coast.
They attempted to follow along the mountain near the coast, but were very slow in their progress on account of the snow on the high ridges. Finding the country much broken along the coast, making it continually necessary to cross abrupt points, and deep gulches and canyons, after struggling along for several days, they concluded to abandon that route and strike easterly toward the Sacramento valley.
Having very little ammunition, they all came nigh perishing from starvation, and, as Mr. Southard related to me, Dr. Gregg continued to grow weaker, from the time of our separation, until, one day, he fell from his horse and died in a few hours without speaking—died from starvation—he had had no meat for several days, had been living entirely upon acorns and herbs. They dug a hole with sticks and put him under ground, then carried rock and piled upon his grave to keep animals from digging him up. They got through to the Sacramento valley a few days later than we reached Sonoma valley. Thus ended our expedition.
Some Early Explorations
It has been only two short generations since the feet of white men first touched the virgin soil of the great region now known as Humboldt county. It is generally believed that the Gregg party, consisting of Dr. Gregg, L. K. Wood and their brave companions, were the first white men to reach Humboldt. That they were the very first of all organized explorers may be conceded without question, but there are strong reasons for believing that the forests were explored and many vistas trodden by the hunters and trappers of older and even bolder times. These old trappers—men of heroic and somewhat antique mold—were doubtless attracted by deer, antelope, elks, and the bears whose furs were of great value in those times. It must not be forgotten, too, that the streams were then alive with beaver and other fur-bearing animals.
A glance at some of the conditions of the long ago, as revealed in the light of Elliott's oldest history, may not prove uninteresting. Many careful investigators now believe that the Jedediah Smith party were the first Americans who ever entered the limits of the great territory now known as Humboldt county. Smith was the first white man that ever led a party overland to California. It seems that in the spring of 1825 he led a band of more than forty men into the Sacramento valley, where he collected a large amount of furs and established his headquarters on the American river, not far from Folsom. He trapped in the San Joaquin in 1826. He started, early in 1827, with a bold band of explorers and trappers for the Columbia river, passing through what is now Yolo county, "up the Cachet creek, and arrived at the ocean near the mouth of the Russian river and followed the coast line as far as Umpqua river," near Cape Arago, when all of the company of forty except himself, Daniel Prior, and Richard Laughlin, were cruelly massacred by a band of Indians. All the stores and furs of the company were taken by the savages. The survivors escaped to Port Vancouver and told of their misadventure to Dr. John Loughlin, agent of the Hudson Bay Company. It was the policy of the Hudson Bay Company to punish native tribes whenever they committed flagrant crimes of this character, so the company readily listened to the survivors and acceded to their request when Smith, as leader, proposed to the agent that if he would send a party to punish the Indians and recover the stolen property he would conduct that party to the unusually rich trapping grounds in the country he had just left. After Smith took his leave on Lewis river, Ogden's party continued southwest to Utah and Nevada, and entered the San Joaquin valley through Walker's pass. They trapped up the valley and then passed over the coast and then up to Vancouver by the route which Smith had formerly traveled.
In the spring of 1832 Michael La Framboise entered the Sacramento valley at the head of a party of the Hudson Bay Company's trappers. "They visited many streams and forests off Tulare lake and returned by trail over the usual route along the coast for Vancouver the following spring."
Elliott says there can be no other conclusion than that the Smith party must have visited Humboldt bay at that time. They could not well have avoided it, but as no historian accompanied them, and as their reports were given at headquarters only and in a general sort of way, no definite description is given to us of the exact road traveled. But it seems impossible that the party could have covered the distances named without passing through Humboldt county.
After reaching the mouth of the Russian river it is hardly probable that they followed the coast or their route would have led them to some stream bearing north, though we must suppose they reached the headwaters of the Eel river and thus followed down that stream to the ocean and thence to Humboldt bay. These several parties mentioned no doubt tapped the Eel, Trinity, and the Klamath river. The Russians were at Fort Ross for thirty years, and it is highly likely that they visited Humboldt bay, but this is only a supposition.
Captain Smith sold his interest in the Rocky Mountain Company in 1830, and in 1831 he met death by being treacherously killed by Indians while he was digging for water in the dry bed of the Cimarron river near Paos, N. M. He was buried there by his companions. This is the last resting place of the first pioneer overland traveler to the wonderful valleys of California, and of the first American who ever gazed upon the grand forests of Humboldt or trod its grass-carpeted valleys. But whether these parties actually visited Humboldt bay is not positively known, so we must give credit to the discovery party of 1849, whose interesting adventures and discoveries have been graphically portrayed by L. K. Wood and his companions of those early days.
Transcribed by Kathy Sedler.