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Updated: May 4, 2025
He had reached at last the objective point of his soldier desires, and with all his heart now wished himself back on the Sacramento with one, at least, or was it at most? of the Sacramento's passengers. The voyage had done much to speed his recovery. The cordial greeting extended by his general and comrade officers had gladdened his heart.
The fact that all coast lights thus far were extinguished was enough to convince the Sacramento's voyagers that they were still unwelcome to the natives, but both the shipmaster and the cavalry officer commanding had counted on finding cruiser, or despatch boat at least, on lookout for them and ready to conduct them to safe anchorage.
The two thousand scattered foreigners of the State are ten thousand before the year is out. Through the canyons, troops of gold seekers now wander. Sacramento's lovely crystal waters, where the silvery salmon leap, are tinged with typical yellow colors, deepening every month. Tents give way to cabins; pack trains of mules and horses wind slowly over the ridges.
Legs in every Atlantic and inland city, legs in California and Oregon, legs on the shores of 'Quoddy and of Lake Pontchartrain, legs everywhere, like a millipede or a banian-tree. Sit down and make yourselves comfortable. A teaspoon, my dear, for Minnesota. Sacramento's cup is out.
One June day in 1861, Leland Stanford, a young lawyer, who was at that time Sacramento's chief grocer, Mark Hopkins and Collis P. Huntington, hardware merchants, and Charles Crocker, proprietor of the leading dry-goods store, met and organized the Central Pacific Railroad Company, with Stanford as president, Huntington as vice-president, Hopkins as treasurer, Judah as engineer, and Crocker as one of the directors.
The mining season was ended in the narrow valley of one of the Sacramento's northern tributaries, as, in fact, it was throughout the whole region of "placer diggings;" for it was October of a dry year, and water had failed early in all the camps. The afternoon of a long, idle day at Wilson's Bar was drawing to a close.
What price the Hilda now for the Merchants' Cup?" "Oh, come off," said big Jones. "Come off with your Merchants' Cup. Th' James Flint's a sure thing, and she wasn't more than half-loaded when we were up at Crockett on Sunday!" "Well, there she comes anyway! James Flint, sure enough! Grade's house-flag up, and the Stars and Stripes!" We hustled on deck and looked over by the Sacramento's mouth.
In an earlier article I spoke of the mighty emotions which came thronging on me at the heads of the Platte and the Colorado: I felt them only less powerfully when my horse jumped across the Sacramento's birthplace.
But Sacramento's more than sixty miles yet, by the river, and the high Sierras are one hundred miles up the American from there." As evening fell, the Mary Ann was entering a wide channel through the marshes where the San Joaquin River from the south and the Sacramento, further on the east, emptied into Suisun Bay.
Convinced that something unusual had taken place, Ruggles walked out into the cañon where he could gain a more extended view. One sweeping glance was enough, when he hurried back to his companions. "Thunderation! all Sacramento's broke loose and is coming this way!" The three passed out from the side of the gorge to where they had a view of the strange procession.
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