On our return to Honey Lake Valley, I presented one of the two cubs to Governor Roop. The other, I myself kept. At this time, it was as playful as a young kitten. Owing to its youth, I was able to thoroughly tame it, so that it would follow me wherever I went, like a spaniel. When it had increased in size to bear's estate, I made it, in after life, my constant companion. Brighton Bill gave it the name which stuck to it, of "my body-guard."
While we were upon the Humboldt, Butch' and myself had discovered what we believed to be silver ore. Brighton Bill shared our belief.
When once more near Honey Lake, we informed the various members of the Buckskin Rangers of our discovery.
All were smitten with the usual fever resulting from an intimation of the presence of either of the precious metals in any locality. It was, therefore, in the spring of 1860, that we went out and pitched our camp in a rocky defile, to which we gave the name of Prince Royal Cañon. The reason of our bestowing this title on it, will, when the date is remembered, be obvious to my readers. We were engaged "prospecting," the remainder of the spring and the succeeding summer, having located a large number of ledges.
About September we had, however, grown tired of silver-prospecting without any immediate results, and determined on adjourning our metal-mining for the winter. It was, therefore, decided that we should visit Klamath Lake and the Modoc country with the view of trapping and hunting.
We accordingly, at the commencement of the following month, struck out for the Blue Mountains, in portion of which range we pitched our camp for the purpose of looking out for good hunting-grounds. After talking the matter well over, we concluded to separate. By so doing, we could hold the whole of that portion of the country, as any good hunter and trapper can take care of ten miles square without any other help. Some of the boys accordingly went to the Klamath Lake—others betook themselves to the Sierras. In fact, they were scattered round, within no more than a day's ride of each other, while I and my pet bear, whom I had named Charley, remained on the spot we had originally camped in.
That winter set in with unusual severity. It was, indeed, the severest I had yet known, through the whole of that region.
Possibly, for twenty years, the one just past, has alone exceeded it, whether in its average temperature or the amount of the snow which fell and remained upon the earth.
In the Blue Mountains, the snow averaged from a depth of ten to eighteen feet. It covered my rude log-cabin so completely, that at times it might have been difficult for me to find it. Here it was that my bear first became of positive value to me, in addition to his affording me something like companionship.