It was here but a small creek, with a valley about half a mile wide. When we had approached near the stream, to our utter surprise and astonishment, we found a new wagon road. Who made this road we could not at first imagine. A considerable number of those coming to California with pack animals decided to follow our trail, rather than come by the usual pack route. These packers had overtaken us the previous evening, and were with us when we discovered this new wagon road. It so happened that one of them had been in California, and knew old Peter Lassen. This man was a sensible fellow, and at once gave it as his opinion that this road had been made by a small party of immigrants whom Lassen had persuaded to come to California by a new route that would enter the great valley of the Sacramento at or near Lassen's rancho. This conjectural explanation proved to be the true one.
So soon as the packers found this road, they left us. No amount of argument could induce them to remain with us. They thought our progress too slow. This left our little party of road-hunters alone in a wild Indian country, the wagons being some distance behind.
We followed the new road slowly. One day, while passing through open pine woods, we saw an Indian some two hundred yards ahead of us. He was intent on hunting, and did not see us until we were within a hundred yards, charging down upon him with our horses at full speed. He saw that escape by flight was impossible; so he hid under a clump of bushes. We soon came up, and by signs ordered him to come out from his place of concealment. This command he understood and promptly obeyed. He was a stout, active young man, apparently twenty-five years of age, and he had a large gray squirrel under his belt which he had killed with his bow and arrow. He evidently feared that we would take his life;
