"The prices paid for labor were in proportion to everything else. The carman of Mellus Howard & Co., had a salary of $6000 a year, and many others made from fifteen to twenty dollars daily. Servants were paid from a hundred to two hundred dollars a month. This state of things, as might have been expected, did not long continue, for all things soon find their level, and the rapid importation of produce, materials and laborers, had soon the effect of lowering the prices to a fair and ordinary scale.
"California territory belongs to the United States of North America, and will, doubtless, in a short time, form several distinct states in that already powerful confederacy."
MR. WILTON. "Now, George, we have arrived at the Gulf of Georgia;—you will not have very far to travel to the Rocky Mountains."
CHARLES. "The Gulf of Georgia is very considerable: it divides Quadra or Vancouver's Island from the continent, and communicates with the Pacific to the south by Claaset's Straits, and to the north by Queen Charlotte's Sound. Quadra is a large island, and I think better known by the name of Nootka Sound, which is at the south end of the island, and contains an English establishment."
MRS. WILTON. "The natives of Nootka Sound are not an interesting people, and are greatly inferior to the other tribes inhabiting the continent. They are short, plain-looking people, not unlike the Esquimaux. Their ordinary dress consists of a mantle edged with fur at the top, and fringed at the bottom, which is made out of the bark of the pine, beaten into fibres. Their food is mostly drawn from the sea. Large stores of fish are dried and smoked, and the roes, prepared like caviare, form their winter bread. They drink fish-oil, and mix it with their food. The women go fishing occasionally, and are as skilful as the men; but their usual occupation is within doors, preparing the fabric of which their garments are composed. Captain Cook, in speaking of their houses, says: 'They are as filthy as hog-sties,—everything in and about them stinking of fish, train-oil, and smoke.'"
GEORGE. "I shall have to travel upwards of 600 miles to tell my story; but, as truth is worth seeking, I do not mind the trouble: so here it is:—
Story of Boone and the Bear.
"A young man named Boone, son of the mighty American hunter, made a settling amongst the Rocky Mountains, and when his hut was erected he used to leave it for days, out on hunting expeditions. One night, after returning from one of these enterprises, he retired to rest on his solitary pallet. The heat was intense, and, as usual in these countries during summer, he had left his door wide open. It was about midnight, when he was awakened by the noise of something tumbling in the room: he rose in a moment, and hearing a short and heavy breathing, he asked who it was, for the darkness was such that he could not see two yards before him. No answer being given, except a kind of half smothered grunt, he advanced,—and, putting out his hand, he seized the shaggy coat of a BEAR! Surprise rendered him motionless; and the animal, giving him a blow on the chest with his terrible paw, threw him down outside the door. Boone could have escaped, but, maddened with the pain of his fall, he only thought of vengeance,—and, seizing his knife and tomahawk, which were fortunately within his reach, he darted furiously at the beast, dealing blows at random. Great as was his strength, his tomahawk could not penetrate through the thick coat of the animal, which, having encircled the body of his assailant with his paws, was pressing him in one of those deadly embraces which could only have been resisted by a giant like Boone (who was six feet nine inches in height and proportionably strong). Fortunately, the Black bear, unlike the Grizzly, very seldom uses his claws and teeth in fighting, contenting himself with smothering his victim. Boone disentangled his left arm, and with his knife dealt a furious blow upon the snout of the animal, which, smarting with pain, released his hold. The snout is the only vulnerable part in an old black bear. Even at forty yards, the ball of a rifle will flatten against his skull, and if in any other part of the body it will scarcely produce any serious effect. Boone, aware of this, and not daring to risk another hug, darted away from the cabin. The bear, now quite angry, followed and overtook him near the fence. Fortunately, the clouds were clearing away, and the moon threw light sufficient to enable the hunter to strike with a more certain aim: he found also on the ground one of the rails, made of the blue ash, very heavy, and ten feet in length; he dropped his knife and tomahawk, and, seizing the rail, he renewed the fight with caution, for it had now become a struggle for life or death.
"Had it been a bull or a panther, they would have had their bones shivered to pieces by the tremendous blows which Boone dealt upon his adversary with all the strength of despair; but Bruin is by nature an admirable fencer, and, in spite of his unwieldy shape, there is not in the world an animal whose motions are more rapid in a close encounter. Once or twice he was knocked down by the force of the blows, but generally he would parry them with a wonderful agility. At last he succeeded in seizing the other end of the rail, and dragged it towards him with irresistible force. Both man and beast fell, Boone rolling to the place where he had dropped his arms, while the bear advanced upon him. The moment was a critical one; but Boone was accustomed to look at and brave death under every shape,—and, with a steady hand, he buried the tomahawk in the snout of his enemy, and, turning round, he rushed to his cabin, believing he would have time to secure the door. He closed the latch, and applied his shoulders to it; but it was of no avail: the terrible brute dashed in head foremost, and tumbled into the room, with Boone and the fragments of the door. The two foes rose and stared at each other. Boone had nothing left but his knife; but Bruin was tottering and unsteady, and Boone felt that the match was more equal. Once more they closed.
"A few hours after sunrise a friend called at the hut,—and, to his horror, found Boone apparently lifeless on the floor, and alongside of him the body of the bear. Boone soon recovered, and found that the timely blow which had saved him from being crushed to death had buried the whole blade of his knife through the left eye, in the very brain of the huge animal."