he ought—he's a much more useful man."
"Granted; we won't dispute so well-established a truism. Now let us cut a few walking-sticks to carry home. It will please our friends to find that we thought of them in this outlandish part of the world."
"To be sure; if you like. But you'll never carry them home. No, sir, you can't do it. You'll lose them before you get half way to America."
"No matter—they cost nothing. Lend me your knife, and we'll try the experiment, at all events."
I then cut a number of walking-sticks and tied them up in a bundle. And here, while the warning of the doubter is fresh in my mind, let me mention the fate of these much-valued relics. I cut four beautiful sticks of myrtle, every one of which I lost before I reached California, though I was very careful where I kept them—so careful, indeed, that I hid them away on board the ship and never could find them again.
On our way back to the cave, as we emerged from the grove, I was astonished to see the entire valley in a blaze of fire. It raged and crackled up the sides of the mountains, blazing wildly and filling the whole sky with smoke. The beautiful valley upon which I had gazed with such delight a few hours before, seemed destined to be laid waste by some fierce and unconquerable destroyer, that devoured trees, shrubs, and flowers in its desolating career. The roar of the mad rushing flames, the seething tongues of fire shooting out from the bowers of shrubbery, the whirling smoke sweeping upward around the pinnacles of rock, the angry sea dimly seen through the chaos, and the sharp screaming of the sea-birds and dismal howling of the wild dogs, impressed me with a terrible picture of desolation. It seemed as if some dreadful convulsion of nature had burst forth soon to cover the island with seething lava or ingulf it in the ocean.
"What can it be?" said I. "Isn't it a grand sight? Perhaps a volcano has broken out. Surely it must be some awful visitation of Providence. It wouldn't be comfortable, however, to be broiled in lava, so I think the sooner we get down to the boats the better."
"There's no hurry," said my friend; "it's nothing but the Californians down at the cave. I told them before I left that they'd set fire to the grass if they kept piling the brush up in that way. Now you see they've done it."
"Yes, I see they have; and a tolerably big fire they've made of it too."
I almost forgave them the wanton act of Vandalism, so sublime was the scene. It was worth a voyage round Cape Horn to see it.
"Plenty of it," muttered the sad man, "to cook all the food that can be raised in these diggings. I wouldn't give an acre of ground in Illinois for the whole island. I only wish they'd burn it up while they're at it—if it be an island at all, which I ain't quite sure of yet."
THE CALIFORNIANS IN JUAN FERNANDEZ.
We reached the cave by rushing through the flames. When we arrived near the mouth, I was amused to find about twenty long-bearded Californians, dressed in red shirts, with leather belts round their bodies, garnished with knives and pistols, and picks in their hands, with which they were digging into the walls of Selkirk's castle in search of curiosities. Their guns were stacked up outside, and several of the party were engaged in cooking fish and boiling coffee. They had battered away at the sides, top, and bottom of the cave in their eager search for relics, till they had left scarcely a dozen square feet of the original surface. Every man had literally his pocket full of rocks. It was a curious sight, here in this solitary island, scarcely known to mariners save as the resort of pirates, deserters, and buccaneers, and chiefly to the reading world at home as the land of Robinson Crusoe, to see these adventurous Americans in their red shirts, lounging about the veritable castle of the "wild man in the goatskins," digging out the walls, smoking cigars, whittling sticks, and talking in plain English about California and the election of General Taylor. Some of them even went so far as to propose a "prospecting" expedition through Crusoe's Valley in search of gold, while others got up a warm debate on the subject of annexation—the annexation of Juan Fernandez. One long, lank, slab-sided fellow, with a leathern sort of face, and two copious streams of tobacco-juice running down from the corners of his mouth, was leaning on his pick outside the cave, spreading forth his sentiments for the benefit of the group of gentlemen who were cooking the fish.
THE CALIFORNIANS IN JUAN FERNANDEZ.
"I tell you, feller-citizens," said he, aroused into something like prophetic enthusiasm as the subject warmed upon his mind, "I tell you it's manifest destiny. Joo-an Fernandays is bound by all the rights of con-san-guity to be a part of the great Ree-public of Free States. Gentlemen, I'm a destiny-man myself; I go the whole figure, sir; yes, sir, I'm none of your old Hunkers. I go for Joo-an Fernandays and California, and any other small patches of airth that may be laying around the vicinity. We want 'em all, gentlemen; we want 'em for our whale-ships and the yeomanry of our country! (cheers.) We'll buy 'em from the Spaniards, sir, with our gold; if we can't buy 'em sir, by hokey! we'll take 'em, sir! (Renewed cheers.) I ask you, gentlemen—I appeal to your feelins as feller-citizens of thee greatest concatenation of states on thee face of God's airth, are you the men that'll refuse to fight for your country? (Cheers, and cries of No, no, we ain't the men; hurra for Joo-an Fernandays!) Then, by Jupiter, sir, we'll have it! We'll have it as sure as the Star of Empire shines like the bright Loo-min-ary of Destiny in the broad Panoply of Heaven (and more especially in the western section of it). We'll have it, sir, as sure as that redolent and inspiring Loominary beckons us on, sir, like a dazzling joo-el on the pre-moni-tary finger of Hope; and the glorious Stars and Stripes, feller-citizens, shall wave proudly in the zephyrs of futurity over the exalted peaks of Joo-an Fernandays!" (Tremendous sensation, during which the orator takes a fresh chew of tobacco, and sits down.)
As soon as the party of annexationists perceived us, they called out to us to heave to, and make ourselves at home. "Come on, gentlemen, come on! No ceremony. We're all Americans! this is a free country. Here's fish! here's bread! here's coffee! Help yourselves, gentlemen! This is a great country, gentlemen—a great country!" Of course we fell to work upon the fish, which was a splendid cod, and the bread and the coffee too, and very palatable we found them all, and exceedingly jolly and entertaining the "gentlemen from the Brooklyn." These lively individuals had made the most of their time in the way of enjoying themselves ashore. About a week before our arrival they gave a grand party in honor of the American nation in general. It was in rather a novel sort of place, to be sure, but none the worse for that—one of the large caves near the boat-landing. On this eventful occasion they "scared up," as they alleged, sundry delicacies from home, such as preserved meats, pound-cake, Champagne, and wines of various sorts, and out of their number they produced a full band of music. They also, by clearing the earth and beating it down, made a very good place for dancing, and they had waltzes, polkas, and cotillons, in perfect ballroom style. It was rather a novel entertainment, take it altogether, in the solitudes of Juan Fernandez. I have forgotten whether the four Chilian ladies of the island attended; if they did not, it was certainly not for want of an invitation. The American Crusoe was there, no longer monarch of all he surveyed. Poor fellow, his reign was over. The Californians were the sovereigns now.
FISHING.
After our snack with the Brooklynites, we joined our comrades down on the beach. They had shot at a great many wild goats, without hitting any, of course. The rest of the afternoon we spent in catching fish for supper.
CHAPTER VII.
