The following morning a jolly party drove me to Coloma, where I saw the statue of Marshall, and old Sutter's Mill, where he discovered gold. It was a lovely autumn day. The leaves were turning, but the verdure of the Pacific slope is more subdued in its colorings than that of the East, where the change of seasons embellishes it with scarlet. My genial companions were refreshing to me after being so long a recluse, but, returning to Placerville, I dined and wasted no time in starting for Sacramento. Coonskin had shipped to San Francisco most of our luggage, to relieve our animals, and at two p. m. my little caravan drifted toward the Sacramento Valley.
The next stop was Folsom, the seat of a state prison, twenty miles away, where we arrived at midnight. All the inhabitants seemed to be asleep. We were noisily debating about which street to follow, when a man called from a chamber window, and directed us to the best hotel, saying he would call on me in the morning. He introduced himself after breakfast as an officer of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, and asked to see my donkeys. I escorted him to the stable, but I feared trouble. I knew three of my donkeys were galled since leaving Carson, and was so solicitous that I sent Coonskin to have the blankets and saddles cinched on them for the start, hoping the officer would be guided by the wisdom of the proverb, "What the eye cannot see the heart cannot grieve for."
You may imagine how disconcerted I was when the officer uncinched the saddle on Skates, the one most galled, and lifted the blanket.
"I am sorry to say, Mr. Pod," said he calmly, "I must arrest you for cruelty to animals."
I protested, and explained that my valet and I had been as tender and solicitous for our animals' health and comfort as a father could have been for a child; that we had tramped across both passes from Carson; and that the galls resulted from unavoidable loosening of the cinches and the shifting of the saddles. We had even changed the packs from one animal to another at frequent intervals to distribute equally the general burden. If he doubted my word we would show him our feet.
The sight of our sore and bleeding feet caused the "humane" officer to blush at his threat, and as a sympathetic murmur ran through the crowd he said: "Professor, I must say, you men are exonerated. You are as bad off as your poor donkeys, but I cannot let you take this animal out of town in that condition."
larger
"Across on the exclusive Solano."