CHAPTER XVI.

At this time my husband was engaged in transporting goods to the towns above Marysville. He kept his horses in a shed at the rear of our dwelling. One night we were aroused by the cry of “Fire!” Upon opening my eyes, the room was as light as day. It appeared as if the whole city was in a blaze. The flames were rapidly spreading. Those light wood and canvas buildings offered but slight resistance to the fiery element. Our first thought was of the horses and wagon, as they were of more value than the house, or all it contained. They were given into my charge, with instructions to lead them away out on the plains, and hold them there, while they remained to throw what few things we possessed into the wagon, and drag it off. The most valuable article in the house was my side-saddle, for which was paid the sum of sixty-five dollars. That, in their haste, was forgotten, and left in the house. I had petted those horses so much, they would follow me anywhere. They stood perfectly quiet beside me, apparently watching with me the progress of the fire. I expected, of course, our little shanty had shared the fate of half the buildings of the place. After the fire had subsided, we returned to town; and there, sure enough, stood the little house unharmed, while all on the opposite side of the street lay a heap of ruins. In one week from that time, very nearly the same scene was enacted over again.

This time, too, the canvas shanty welcomed us back again to town. Had it been of any value, perhaps it would have shared the fate of its neighbors; but, valueless as it was, it looked better to me upon my return than a mass of smoking ruins in lieu. What oversights a person will commit when alarmed, or agitated by the cry of “Fire!” One of these nights I dressed myself hastily, put on my dress (which fastened in front) hind-side before, and fastened every hook securely. Of course, I never discovered my mistake until I returned to the house. Soon after this, my brother left for the mines. When the rainy season commenced, our house was a poor protection from the rain. It ran through the canvas roof as through an old sieve. We soon vacated it, and went to the Oriental Hotel. This building my husband rented for the sum of six hundred dollars per month, furniture included. It was a spacious new building, at that time the finest in the place. Our expenses were eighteen hundred dollars per month. We employed three cooks. To our head cook we gave three hundred per month, and all the other domestics in a like proportion. To one little boy, not much higher than the table, who was employed to wait upon the cooks, clean knives and forks, bring in wood, etc., we paid the exorbitant sum of sixty-five dollars per month. Notwithstanding our expenses were so much, the net profits were ample. We had twenty and twenty-five dollars per week for board. The house was always crowded. While we were at the Oriental Hotel, the city was inundated. Oh, that was indeed a gloomy time! A vast amount of property was destroyed, and some lives lost. The sudden melting of the snow in the mountains swelled the mountain streams to rushing torrents. The most intense excitement prevailed in Marysville, as the Yuba River, swollen to its utmost capacity, was still rapidly rising. What a wildly rushing, roaring, foaming mass of water came thundering on! Higher and yet higher it came, until the plaza was fairly submerged. Trucks were rushing to and fro, laden with merchandise being conveyed to the upper part of the city. Many objected to leaving their houses, thinking the water would abate, until they were obliged to make their egress through the windows, and in boats were taken to dry land. The Oriental fronted on quite high land. At the back was a large basement, where was situated the culinary department, also the servants’ apartments. All this part of the building was entirely submerged, and the water lacked but a few inches of being to the first floor. Night was coming on, and the water was still rising. Fear and anxiety sat enthroned upon the countenances of all. A short time previous to this, there had been erected on the plaza two brick blocks. The water undermined the foundation of these buildings, and that night they fell with a terrible crash. It is almost impossible to convey to the minds of those not present any correct idea of the gloomy aspect of affairs during the inundation. Towards morning, the waters ceased to rise any higher, yet did not subside in the least. A man residing on a ranch about five miles above Marysville, in attempting to save some cattle from drowning, was swept from his horse by the force of the current, and was borne down stream with astonishing rapidity. He managed to keep his head above water, but was unable to clutch at anything whereby he might save himself. As he neared the landing at Marysville, all the latent energy of his being was aroused to save his life, as that would be his last chance. There was a large steamer lying there, made fast to the big tree on the plaza. Any one who has visited Marysville will recollect this venerable tree. Some of the earliest pioneers to this place recognize it as an old friend, under whose protecting arms they have for many nights sought a shelter. With almost superhuman exertions, he caught hold of one of the paddle-wheels of the steamer, and maintained his position until rescued by some people who had seen him struggling in the water.

Feather River, too, overflowed her banks, and, in a south and westerly direction from Marysville, nothing could be seen but one unbroken sheet of water. Many of the smaller houses were washed down stream. One couple, living on a ranch twenty miles from Marysville, on the bank of Feather River, and far from any other habitation, were driven for safety to the top of a table. As the water rose higher, they were obliged to rise higher. It was a little bit of a shanty. They knocked a hole through the roof, and crept out thereon. They soon found they must vamos from there; so they embarked in some sort of a craft (tub or barrel), and paddled off to a little island. After congratulating themselves upon their miraculous escape, they found they were not the only occupants of this island retreat: a big grisly bear had preceded them. Not relishing such close companionship as he seemed inclined to offer, they quickly beat a retreat to a large tree, and, seated in its topmost branches, carefully guarded by “Old Bruin,” they passed twenty-four gloomy hours. When assistance arrived from a neighboring ranch, in the shape of a boat well manned, it was Bruin’s turn to beat a retreat, which he did. The frightened, hungry couple were released from their perilous situation.

My brother had returned from the mines, and was living upon a ranch on the banks of the Yuba. He swam his horse quite a distance to save a woman and child. When he arrived at the shanty, they were perched upon a table, calmly awaiting their fate.

The boats were sailing in every direction about the city; and all through the night could be heard the shrill cry of “Boat, ahoy!” resounding far over the waters. All night long, on the opposite side of the Yuba, sat a Spaniard on the ridge-pole of his house, at one end, while, at the other end, was a big rat, each anxiously expecting relief.

Very gradually the waters began to subside; but it was a week before the city was passable at all. One small house which was washed down stream, and lodged some distance below, the owner afterwards recovered; and, after placing it upon its original site, he corralled it, for fear of a similar accident.

We kept the Oriental four or five months; but the numerous cares devolving upon me were too wearing for my constitution. Could I have been relieved from so much anxious solicitude, we should have remained in the house longer. Now the rainy season was nearly over, we returned to our little shanty.