From the egg producing ranch, the river took on the appearance of a
southern bayou. Trees and festoons of vines hung in the water, which
was clear and beautiful and numbers of water snakes were continually
crossing and recrossing. Seeing one handsome yellow fellow, Paul paddled
after and captured it. It made no attempt to bite; but coiled tightly
around his wrist and hand. It was three feet long and beautifully
marked. He stowed it in the Baby and it remained his companion for the
rest of the journey.
Groups of Chinamen were occasionally seen, fishing from the banks or the
branches of overhanging trees. Some of these stared at him while
others ran away. During the afternoon, he saw two celestials in a tree.
He silently ran under them and uttered a terrific yell. One of the
Chinamen was so frightened that he let go all holds and dropped into the
water, while his companion remained in the tree, his teeth chattering
like castanets.
Further down Paul encountered beating head winds and suffered from the
slickens. His face was badly burned and the skin peeled off in flakes.
On April 1st, he reached Sacramento and the usual hearty California
reception was tendered him. For five days after leaving that city,
the going was heavy and tiresome, having struck tide water directly
below.
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