While I was here the table was only occupied by a sailor
lying upon it and covered with a green blanket. All at once the fellow
noticed a large _piojo_ walking slowly across the table, and drawing his
sheath knife made a desperate stab at him, saying "You kind of a deck
hand can't play at this game."
Our claims, by this time were nearly worked out, and I thought that I
had upward of two thousand dollars in gold, and the pile looked pretty
big to me. It seemed to me that these mines were very shallow and would
soon be worked out, at least in a year or two. I could not see that the
land would be good for much for farming when no irrigation could be
easily got, and the Spanish people seemed to own all the best land as
well as the water; so that a poor fellow like myself would never get
rich at farming here.
Seeing the matter in this light I thought it would be best to take my
money and go back to Wisconsin where government land was good and
plenty, and with even my little pile I could soon be master of a good
farm in a healthy country, and I would there be rich enough. Thus
reasoning I decided to return to Wisconsin, for I could not see how a
man could ever be a successful farmer in a country where there were only
two seasons, one wet and the other long and dry.
I went out and hunted up my mule which I had turned out to pasture for
herself, and found her entirely alone. After a little coaxing I caught
her and brought her with me to camp, where I offered her for sale.
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