howing
its capabilities, I sewed the necessary number of yard-widths of the
length of Murdock's Hall to make a new ceiling, of which it chanced to
stand in need.

Humboldt County was an isolated community. Sea steamers were both
infrequent and uncertain, with ten days or two weeks and more between
arrivals. There were no roads to the interior, but there were trails,
and they were often threatened by treacherous Indians. The Indians
living near us on Mad River were peaceful, but the mountain Indians were
dangerous, and we never knew when we were really safe. In Arcata we had
one stone building, a store, and sometimes the frightened would resort
to it at night. In times of peace, settlers lived on Mad River, on
Redwood Creek, and on the Bald Hills, where they herded their cattle.
One by one they were killed or driven in until there was not a white
person living between the bay and Trinity River. Mail carriers were shot
down, and the young men of Arcata were often called upon at night to
nurse the wounded. We also organized a military company, and a night
duty was drilling our men on the plaza or up past the gruesome
graveyard. My command was never called out for service, but I had some
fortunate escapes from being waylaid. I walked around the bay one
morning; a few hours later a man was ambushed on the road.

On one occasion I narrowly escaped participation in warfare. In August,
1862, there had been outrages by daring Indian bands, killing
unprotected men close to town. Once a few of us followed the tracks of a
party and traced the marauders across Mad River and toward a small
prairie known to our leader, Ousley the saddler. As we passed along a
small road he caught the sign. A whiff of a shred of cotton cloth caught
on a bush denoted a smoky native. A crushed fern, still moist, told him
they had lately passed. At his direction we took to the woods and
crawled quietly toward the near-by prairie. Our orders were to wait the
signal. If the band we expected to find was not too large, we should be
given the word to attack. If there were too many for us, we should back
out and go to town for help. We soon heard them plainly as they made
camp. We found about three times our number, and we retired very quietly
and made for the nearest farmhouse that had a team.

In town many were anxious to volunteer. My mother did not want me to go,
and I must confess I was in full accord with her point of view. I
therefore served as commis