<p>The morning after my landing, I began the duties of hide-curing. In
order to understand these, it will be necessary to give the whole
history of a hide, from the time it is taken from a bullock until it is
put on board the vessel to be carried to Boston. When the hide is
taken from the bullock, holes are cut round it, near the edge, by which
it is staked out to dry. In this manner it dries without shrinking.
After they are thus dried in the sun, they are received by the vessels,
and brought down to the depot at San Diego. The vessels land them, and
leave them in large piles near the houses.</p>
<p>Then begins the hide-curer's duty. The first thing is to put them in
soak. This is done by carrying them down at low tide, and making them
fast, in small piles, by ropes, and letting the tide come up and cover
them. Every day we put in soak twenty-five for each man, which, with
us, made an hundred and fifty. There they lie forty-eight hours, when
they are taken out, and rolled up, in wheelbarrows, and thrown into the
vats. These vats contain brine, made very strong; being sea-water,
with great quantities of salt thrown in. This pickles the hides, and
in this they lie forty-eight hours; the use of the sea-water, into
which they are first put, being merely to soften and clean them. From
these vats, they are taken, and lie on a platform twenty-four hours,
and then are spread upon the ground, and carefully stretched and staked
out, so that they may dry smooth. After they were staked, and while yet
wet and soft, we used to go upon them with our knives, and carefully
cut off all the bad parts:—the pieces of meat and fat, which would
corrupt and infect the whole if stowed away in a vessel for many
months, the large flippers, the ears, and all other parts which would
prevent close stowage. This was the most difficult part of our duty: as
it required much skill to take everything necessary off and not to cut
or injure the hide. It was also a long process, as six of us had to
clean an hundred and fifty, most of which required a great deal to be
done to them, as the Spaniards are very careless in skinning their
cattle. Then, too, as we cleaned them while they were staked out, we
were obliged to kneel down upon them, which always gives beginners the
back-ache. The first day, I was so slow and awkward that I cleaned only
eight; at the end of a few days I doubled my number; and in a fortnight
or three weeks, could keep up with the others, and clean my
proportion—twenty-five.</p>
<p>This cleaning must be got through with before noon; for by that time
they get too dry. After the sun has been upon them a few hours, they
are carefully gone over with scrapers, to get off all the grease which
the sun brings out. This being done, the stakes are pulled up, and the
hides carefully doubled, with the hair side out, and left to dry.
About the middle of the afternoon they are turned upon the other side,
and at sundown piled up and covered over. The next day they are spread
out and opened again, and at night, if fully dry, are thrown upon a
long, horizontal pole, five at a time, and beat with flails. This
takes all the dust from them. Then, being salted, scraped, cleaned,
dried, and beaten, they are stowed away in the house. Here ends their
history, except that they are taken out again when the vessel is ready
to go home, beaten, stowed away on board, carried to Boston, tanned,
made into shoes and other articles for which leather is used; and many
of them, very probably, in the end, brought back again to California in
the shape of shoes, and worn out in pursuit of other bullocks, or in
the curing of other hides.</p>
<p>By putting an hundred and fifty in soak every day, we had the same
number at each stage of curing, on each day; so that we had, every day,
the same work to do upon the same number: an hundred and fifty to put
in soak; an hundred and fifty to wash out and put in the vat; the same
number to haul from the vat and put on the platform to drain; the same
number to spread and stake out and clean; and the same number to beat
and stow away in the home. I ought to except Sunday; for, by a
prescription which no captain or agent has yet ventured to break in
upon, Sunday has been a day of leisure on the beach for years. On
Saturday night, the hides, in every stage of progress, are carefully
covered up, and not uncovered until Monday morning. On Sundays we had
absolutely no work to do, unless it was to kill a bullock, which was
sent down for our use about once a week, and sometimes came on Sunday.
Another good arrangement was, that we had just so much work to do, and
when that was through, the time was our own. Knowing this, we worked
hard, and needed no driving. We "turned out" every morning at the
first signs of daylight, and allowing a short time, about eight
o'clock, for breakfast, generally got through our labor between one and
two o'clock, when we dined, and had the rest of the time to ourselves;
until just before sundown, when we beat the dry hides and put them in
the house, and covered over all the others. By this means we had about
three hours to ourselves every afternoon; and at sundown we had our
supper, and our work was done for the day. There was no watch to stand,
and no topsails to reef. The evenings we generally spent at one
another's houses, and I often went up and spent an hour or so at the
oven; which was called the "Kanaka Hotel," and the "Oahu Coffee-house."
Immediately after dinner we usually took a short siésta to make up for
our early rising, and spent the rest of the afternoon according to our
own fancies. I generally read, wrote, and made or mended clothes; for
necessity, the mother of invention, had taught me these two latter
arts. The Kanakas went up to the oven, and spent the time in sleeping,
talking, and smoking; and my messmate, Nicholas, who neither knew how
to read or write, passed away the time by a long siésta, two or three
smokes with his pipe, and a paséo to the other houses. This leisure
time is never interfered with, for the captains know that the men earn
it by working hard and fast, and that if they interfered with it, the
men could easily make their twenty-five hides apiece last through the
day. We were pretty independent, too, for the master of the
house—"capitan de la casa"—had nothing to say to us, except when we
were at work on the hides, and although we could not go up to the town
without his permission, this was seldom or never refused.</p>
<p>The great weight of the wet hides, which we were obliged to roll about
in wheelbarrows; the continual stooping upon those which were pegged
out to be cleaned; and the smell of the vats, into which we were often
obliged to get, knee-deep, to press down the hides; all made the work
disagreeable and fatiguing;—but we soon got hardened to it, and the
comparative independence of our life reconciled us to it; for there was
nobody to haze us and find fault; and when we got through, we had only
to wash and change our clothes, and our time was our own. There was,
however, one exception to the time's being our own; which was, that on
two afternoons of every week we were obliged to go off and get wood,
for the cook to use in the galley. Wood is very scarce in the vicinity
of San Diego; there being no trees of any size, for miles. In the
town, the inhabitants burn the small wood which grows in thickets, and
for which they send out Indians, in large numbers, every few days.
Fortunately, the climate is so fine that they had no need of a fire in
their houses, and only use it for cooking. With us the getting of wood
was a great trouble; for all that in the vicinity of the houses had
been cut down, and we were obliged to go off a mile or two, and to
carry it some distance on our backs, as we could not get the hand-cart
up the hills and over the uneven places. Two afternoons in the week,
generally Monday and Thursday, as soon as we had got through dinner, we
started off for the bush, each of us furnished with a hatchet and a
long piece of rope, and dragging the hand-cart behind us, and followed
by the whole colony of dogs, who were always ready for the bush, and
were half mad whenever they saw our preparations. We went with the
hand-cart as far as we could conveniently drag it, and leaving it in an
open, conspicuous place, separated ourselves; each taking his own
course, and looking about for some good place to begin upon.
Frequently, we had to go nearly a mile from the hand-cart before we
could find any fit place. Having lighted upon a good thicket, the next
thing was to clear away the under-brush, and have fair play at the
trees. These trees are seldom more than five or six feet high, and the
highest that I ever saw in these expeditions could not have been more
than twelve; so that, with lopping off the branches and clearing away
the underwood, we had a good deal of cutting to do for a very little
wood. Having cut enough for a "back-load," the next thing was to make
it well fast with the rope, and heaving the bundle upon our backs, and
taking the hatchet in hand, to walk off, up hill and down dale, to the
hand-cart. Two good back-loads apiece filled the hand-cart; and that
was each one's proportion. When each had brought down his second load,
we filled the hand-cart, and took our way again slowly back, and
unloading, covering the hides for the night, and getting our supper,
finished the day's work.</p>
<p>These wooding excursions had always a mixture of something rather
pleasant in them. Roaming about in the woods with hatchet in hand,
like a backwoodsman, followed by a troop of dogs; starting up of birds,
snakes, hares and foxes, and examining the various kinds of trees,
flowers, and birds' nests, was at least, a change from the monotonous
drag and pull on shipboard. Frequently, too, we had some amusement and
adventure. The coati, of which I have before spoken,—a sort of
mixture of the fox and wolf breeds,—fierce little animals, with bushy
tails and large heads, and a quick, sharp bark, abound here, as in all
other parts of California. These, the dogs were very watchful for, and
whenever they saw them, started off in full run after them. We had
many fine chases; yet, although our dogs ran finely, the rascals
generally escaped. They are a match for the dog,—-one to one,—but as
the dogs generally went in squads, there was seldom a fair fight. A
smaller dog, belonging to us, once attacked a coati, single, and got a
good deal worsted, and might perhaps have been killed had we not come
to his assistance. We had, however, one dog which gave them a good
deal of trouble, and many hard runs. He was a fine, tall fellow, and
united strength and agility better than any dog that I have ever seen.
He was born at the Islands, his father being an English mastiff, and
his mother a greyhound. He had the high head, long legs, narrow body,
and springing gait of the latter, and the heavy jaw, thick jowls, and
strong fore-quarters of the mastiff. When he was brought to San Diego,
an English sailor said that he looked, about the face, precisely like
the Duke of Wellington, whom he had once seen at the Tower; and,
indeed, there was something about him which resembled the portraits of
the Duke. From this time he was christened "Welly," and became the
favorite and bully of the beach. He always led the dogs by several
yards in the chase, and had killed two coati at different times in
single combats. We often had fine sport with these fellows. A quick,
sharp bark from a coati, and in an instant every dog was at the height
of his speed. A few moments made up for an unfair start, and gave each
dog his relative place. Welly, at the head, seemed almost to skim over
the bushes; and after him came Fanny, Feliciana, Childers, and the
other fleet ones,—the spaniels and terriers; and then behind, followed
the heavy corps—bulldogs, etc., for we had every breed. Pursuit by us
was in vain, and in about half an hour a few of them would come panting
and straggling back.</p>
<p>Beside the coati, the dogs sometimes made prizes of rabbits and hares,
which are very plentiful here, and great numbers of which we often shot
for our dinners. There was another animal that I was not so much
disposed to find amusement from, and that was the rattlesnake. These
are very abundant here, especially during the spring of the year. The
latter part of the time that I was on shore, I did not meet with so
many, but for the first two months we seldom went into "the bush"
without one of our number starting some of them. The first that I ever
saw, I remember perfectly well. I had left my companions, and was
beginning to clear away a fine clump of trees, when just in the midst
of the thicket, not more than eight yards from me, one of these fellows
set up his hiss. It is a sharp, continuous sound, and resembles very
much the letting off of the steam from the small pipe of a steamboat,
except that it is on a smaller scale. I knew, by the sound of an axe,
that one of my companions was near, and called out to him, to let him
know what I had fallen upon. He took it very lightly, and as he seemed
inclined to laugh at me for being afraid, I determined to keep my
place. I knew that so long as I could hear the rattle, I was safe, for
these snakes never make a noise when they are in motion. Accordingly,
I kept at my work, and the noise which I made with cutting and breaking
the trees kept him in alarm; so that I had the rattle to show me his
whereabouts. Once or twice the noise stopped for a short time, which
gave me a little uneasiness, and retreating a few steps, I threw
something into the bush, at which he would set his rattle agoing; and
finding that he had not moved from his first place, I was easy again.
In this way I continued at my work until I had cut a full load, never
suffering him to be quiet for a moment. Having cut my load, I strapped
it together, and got everything ready for starting. I felt that I could
now call the others without the imputation of being afraid; and went in
search of them. In a few minutes we were all collected, and began an
attack upon the bush. The big Frenchman, who was the one that I had
called to at first, I found as little inclined to approach the snake as
I had been. The dogs, too, seemed afraid of the rattle, and kept up a
barking at a safe distance; but the Kanakas showed no fear, and getting
long sticks, went into the bush, and keeping a bright look-out, stood
within a few feet of him. One or two blows struck near him, and a few
stones thrown, started him, and we lost his track, and had the pleasant
consciousness that he might be directly under our feet. By throwing
stones and chips in different directions, we made him spring his rattle
again, and began another attack. This time we drove him into the clear
ground, and saw him gliding off, with head and tail erect, when a
stone, well aimed, knocked him over the bank, down a declivity of
fifteen or twenty feet, and stretched him at his length. Having made
sure of him, by a few more stones, we went down, and one of the Kanakas
cut off his rattle. These rattles vary in number it is said, according
to the age of the snake; though the Indians think they indicate the
number of creatures they have killed. We always preserved them as
trophies, and at the end of the summer had quite a number. None of our
people were ever bitten by them, but one of our dogs died of a bite,
and another was supposed to have been bitten, but recovered. We had no
remedy for the bite, though it was said that the Indians of the country
had, and the Kanakas professed to have an herb which would cure it, but
it was fortunately never brought to the test.</p>
<p>Hares and rabbits, as I said before, were abundant, and, during the
winter months, the waters are covered with wild ducks and geese. Crows,
too, were very numerous, and frequently alighted in great numbers upon
our hides, picking at the pieces of dried meat and fat. Bears and
wolves are numerous in the upper parts, and in the interior, (and,
indeed, a man was killed by a bear within a few miles of San Pedro,
while we were there,) but there were none in our immediate
neighborhood. The only other animals were horses. Over a dozen of
these were owned by different people on the beach, and were allowed to
run loose among the hills, with a long lasso attached to them, and pick
up feed wherever they could find it. We were sure of seeing them once a
day, for there was no water among the hills, and they were obliged to
come down to the well which had been dug upon the beach. These horses
were bought at, from two, to six and eight dollars apiece, and were
held very much as common property. We generally kept one fast to one
of the houses every day, so that we could mount him and catch any of
the others. Some of them were really fine animals, and gave us many
good runs up to the Presidio and over the country.</p>
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