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Updated: May 31, 2025
In this village I made inquiries for another servant and guide, and was directed to "Timoteo, the very man." Liking his looks, and being able to come to satisfactory terms, I engaged him as my second helper.
Having safely landed our horses and mules, we picked up and rode to San Rafael Mission, stopping with Don Timoteo Murphy. The next day's journey took us to Bodega, where lived a man named Stephen Smith, who had the only steam saw-mill in California. He had a Peruvian wife, and employed a number of absolutely naked Indians in making adobes.
Don Timoteo had sought the most rare and expensive in everything, nor would he have hesitated at crime had he been assured that the Captain-General liked to eat human flesh. "Danzar sobre un volcán."
Then the baron opened the first regular butcher-shop in San Francisco, on the wharf about the foot of Broadway or Pacific Street, where we could buy at twenty-five or fifty cents a pound the best roasts, steaks, and cuts of beef, which had cost him nothing, for he never paid anybody if he could help it, and he soon cleaned poor Don Timoteo out.
"My dear," murmured into the ear of a neighbor the lady who had referred to Don Timoteo as a jumping-jack, "did you ever see such a skirt?" "Ugh, the curtains from the Palace!" "You don't say! But it's true! They're carrying everything away. You'll see how they make wraps out of the carpets." "That only goes to show that she has talent and taste," observed her husband, reproving her with a look.
After some inquiries of his purser, the commodore promised to let him have the barrels with their salt, as fast as they were emptied by the crew. Then the baron explained that he could get a nice lot of cattle from Don Timoteo Murphy, at the Mission of San Rafael, on the north aide of the bay, but he could not get a boat and crew to handle them.
Don Timoteo bowed here and bowed there, scattered his best smiles, tightened his belt, stepped backward, turned halfway round, then completely around, and so on again and again, until one goddess could not refrain from remarking to her neighbor, under cover of her fan: "My dear, how important the old man is! Doesn't he look like a jumping-jack?"
"Yes," rejoined Don Timoteo, "but look what that decree cost me! Then, the destruction will not be carried out for a month, not until Lent begins, and other shipments may arrive. I would have wished them destroyed right away, but Besides, what are the owners of those houses going to buy from me if they are all poor, all equally beggars?" "You can always buy up their shacks for a trifle."
At school, the day before, Timoteo had heard Herbert say that he intended going after abalones on Saturday. "He no get any," prophesied Timoteo, gazing after Herbert's disappearing figure. Timoteo himself was out abalone-hunting. This was one of the ways by which he occasionally earned a few cents, visitors to the town buying the large shells for curiosities.
Timoteo climbed over the wet rocks till he found himself near a place where the sounds seemed to come from between two rocks. Timoteo saw a boy reach up part way between the two rocks. The boy could not crawl out. The hole between the rocks was not big enough. "Timoteo!" screamed a voice, and Timoteo recognized Herbert. "Say!" Herbert called, "run for help, won't you?
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