The widows present shyly smiled.
After being supplied with the glycerin, he left the newspaper men and struck away alone. He kept on all night and passed Chico bridge early next morning. Before sun-rise he noticed a tree that was strange and wonderful. It was full of what appeared to be large white clusters of feathery-like blossoms, which swayed to and fro as though alive, yet not a breath of air was stirring. His wonder at the beautiful spectacle was so great, that he ceased moving the paddle and drifted with the current toward the snowy looking tree. When opposite, he saw it was a roost for some sort of water fowl. He shouted and a cloud of white heron rose in the air and soared away.
He now entered a stretch of river that was very lonely. The ranches were far away from the banks. The sand bars were full of geese, ducks and heron, while many buzzards sailed gracefully above. He noticed one large flock of these scavengers, that hung over him and which gained in numbers as they moved along, no doubt mistaking him for a dead body, floating. He had commenced the voyage on Friday and the old sailor superstition affected him. He did not like the persistence with which the ill-omened birds kept him company; but they were far out of range of pistol shot. He grew so nervous looking at the buzzards that he could see nothing else along the river. Then he thought of a plan to get rid of them, which he immediately put into execution. Taking a powerful detonating rocket from the Baby, he fired it into their midst and it bursted above. They darted away toward the Sierras and he was annoyed by them no more.
There was one companion he could not get rid of, however, that was the snow clad peak of Mt. Shasta. It appeared ever present and always at the same distance. He would think he had left it in the rear, when at the next bend of the river, it again loomed up in front of him. He saw it at sunrise and at sunset for days, gloriously colored as the variations of light bathed its towering sides.
At Grimes' Landing, a Sunday school picnic was encountered. Arches and banks of flowers, made bright a beautiful grove. On one arch were the words, "Baby Mine," spelled out in roses. Boyton had not intended to stop, but could not resist getting out and shaking hands with the little ones. That night he stopped at a wood cutter's camp.
Next evening he was met by a gentleman in a boat with a servant, who extended a most cordial invitation to spend the night. They repaired to an elegant residence on the river bank and the gentleman proved to be the Hon. John Boggs, proprietor of one of the great ranches which make California famous. He was profuse in his hospitality, sending messages by his private wire to Sacramento and San Francisco. His ranch consists of eleven thousand acres, requiring hundreds of men to work it; herds of cattle and droves of sheep, numbering into the tens of thousands, graze on the ranges. Ocean vessels are docked at his warehouses and loaded for foreign ports. Boyton always remembers the night spent at that California ranch as one of the most pleasant of his life.
Next day Colusa was reached and for some distance below, people were numerous on the banks, school children sometimes running along a mile or more. At one place a tall, raw boned woman, who looked as though she possessed a mind of her own, gathered up her skirts and trotted along the bank for same time, talking to Boyton. She wanted to know if he lectured.
"No; I am taking notes so as to write a book," replied Paul.
"Well, you're just the fellow I'm looking for. I want you to take notes about the slickens that are filling up this river and go for the miners, good and strong, who make them." With that she dropped her skirts and pointing her index finger impressively at Paul, concluded: "Now don't forget that, young fellow," and turned to retrace her steps.
The slickens spoken of by the strong minded female, is refuse from the mines filling the channel of the river and ruining navigation. It is produced by hydraulic mining, powerful streams of water washing the dirt down from the hills into the river. Boyton found the slickens very trying to the eyes.