Had it not been for this,
the bear would certainly have upset the boat and drowned all in it.
As it was, however, his meat served us a good turn in our trip up
to Stockton. At Stockton we disembarked our wagon, provisions, and
instruments. There I bought two fine mules at three hundred
dollars each, and we hitched up and started for the Coaumnes River.
About twelve miles off was the Mokelumne, a wide, bold stream, with
a canoe as a ferry-boat. We took our wagon to pieces, and ferried
it and its contents across, and then drove our mules into the
water. In crossing, one mule became entangled in the rope of the
other, and for a time we thought he was a gone mule; but at last he
revived and we hitched up. The mules were both pack-animals;
neither had ever before seen a wagon. Young Seton also was about
as green, and had never handled a mule. We put on the harness, and
began to hitch them in, when one of the mules turned his head, saw
the wagon, and started. We held on tight, but the beast did not
stop until he had shivered the tongue-pole into a dozen fragments.
The fact was, that Seton had hitched the traces before he had put
on the blind-bridle. There was considerable swearing done, but
that would not mend the pole.
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