ranche to make it handsomer. Then the
climate, with the sea-
breeze every afternoon in the hottest summer weather, had
gradually cured the sciatica; and his sister and niece were
now
domesticated with him for company - or, rather, the niece
came only once in the two days, teaching music the meanwhile
in the
valley. And then, for a last piece of luck, "the
handsomest spot in the Californy mountains" had produced a
petrified forest, which Mr. Evans now shows at the modest
figure of half a dollar a head, or two-thirds of his capital
when he first came there with an axe and a sciatica.
This tardy favourite of fortune - hobbling a little, I think,
as if in memory of the sciatica, but with not a trace that I
can remember of the sea -
thoroughly ruralized from head to
foot, proceeded to
escort us up the hill behind his house.
"Who first found the forest?" asked my wife.
"The first? I was that man," said he. "I was cleaning up
the
pasture for my beasts, when I found THIS" - kicking a
great redwood seven feet in
diameter, that lay there on its
side, hollow heart, clinging lumps of bark, all changed into
gray stone, with veins of
quartz between what had been the
layers of the wood.
"Were you surprised?"
"Surprised? No! What would I be surprised about? What did
I know about petrifactions - following the sea?
Petrifaction! There was no such word in my language! I knew
about putrifaction, though! I thought it was a stone; so
would you, if you was cleaning up
pasture."
And now he had a theory of his own, which I did not quite
grasp, except that the trees had not "grewed" there. But he
mentioned, with
evident pride, that he differed from all the
scientific people who had visited the spot; and he flung
about such words as "tufa" and "scilica" with careless
freedom.
When I mentioned I was from Scotland, "My old country," he
said; "my old country" - with a smiling look and a tone of
real
affection in his voice. I was mightily surprised, for
he was
obviously Scandinavian, and begged him to explain. It
seemed he had
learned his English and done nearly all his
sailing in Scotch ships. "Out of Glasgow," said he, "or
Greenock; but that's all the same - they all hail from
Glasgow." And he was so pleased with me for being a Scotsman,
and his adopted compatriot, that he made me a present of a
very beautiful piece of petrifaction - I believe the most
beautiful and
portable he had.
Here was a man, at least, who was a Swede, a Scot, and an
American, acknowledging some kind
allegiance to three lands.
Mr. Wallace's Scoto-Circassian will not fail to come before
the reader. I have myself met and
spoken with a Fifeshire
German, whose
combination of
abominable accents struck me
dumb. But, indeed, I think we all belong to many countries.
And perhaps this habit of much travel, and the engendering of
scattered friendships, may prepare the euthanasia of ancient
nations.
And the forest itself? Well, on a tangled, briery
hillside -
for the
pasture would bear a little further cleaning up, to
my eyes - there lie scattered
thickly various lengths of
petrified trunk, such as the one already mentioned. It is
very curious, of course, and ancient enough, if that were
all. Doubtless, the heart of the geologist beats quicker at
the sight; but, for my part, I was mightily
unmoved. Sight-
seeing is the art of disappointment.
"There's nothing under heaven so blue,
That's fairly worth the travelling to."
But,
fortunately, Heaven rewards us with many agreeable
prospects and adventures by the way; and sometimes, when we
go out to see a petrified forest, prepares a far more
delightful
curiosity, in the form of Mr. Evans, whom may all
prosperity attend throughout a long and green old age.
CHAPTER III - NAPA WINE
I WAS interested in Californian wine. Indeed, I am
interested in all wines, and have been all my life, from the
raisin wine that a
schoolfellow kept secreted in his play-box
up to my last discovery, those
notable Valtellines, that once