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As I have said elsewhere, the general is the embodiment of California history, and in this last interview, he related biographies, legends, and historical rectifications, which I am very sorry that my bad memory refuses to remember.

Speaking of traditions, it goes back to the year 1817: it represented the expedition of the pirates, and how in the Strait of Karkines, the Indians were horribly disfigured to fight a tremendous battle that gave its name to the Mount of the Devil.

Finally, as a children’s story, he related the discovery of gold to me, in these or similar terms:

“You must be there.” For good to know, and I for bad to tell, that in those lands invaded by the Russians, which were later called Sacramento, a Captain Sutter, owner of a wood-sawing machine, lived and drank: the resistant machine and the resigned captain, had to to agree to do little work with the assent of a Mr. Marshall, a funny soldier, a good pipe smoker like Sutter, and a friend of answering and drinking, like an old soldier.

Sutter’s wife, an expeditious, plump, browed and determined-moving lady, with a mole on his cheek like a tarantula, was in such good society.

Going days and coming days, in a warm nap, in which between dozing and sleeping he thought he was giving the described triplet very formal, a peon from the field, with a certain reluctance that resembled indifference, joined the group, with a handful of earth in He shook his hand and said to Sutter, “Look, sir; What are these sprinkles made of? ” The three big-eyed characters opened with the news of the sparks … the sparks were gold, pure gold …

The madam came and went upsetting the show, threw liquids, emptied bottles, and soon, all the junk in the house was overflowing with bright sparks …

The thing did not get much publicity; but you have to know. that Captain Sutter owed a certain piquillo that bothered him, and the creditors, ignorant of the sparks, fell on him and his possessions, with such resolute fury, that at the first refusal they wanted to find the brave soldier in jail.

“That was not in my days,” said Sutter’s raptured wife, and she shoved bottles of sparklers into their eyes, which left them stunned: those bottles fell like rough on gunpowder in the public, and all over the world they rang out with the wonderful discovery of gold.

Very pleasant and very instructive for me were the conversations of Mr. Vallejo, to whom I thank this memory.

SO pink have you painted. to California, which suddenly I do not know in the pages of you,

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