Near by was a small artificial lake made by a dam of cobble stones, laid
in cement across a ravine, which was built perhaps 50 years before, and
yet the tracks of a child who had walked across before the cement was
dry, were plainly seen.
Stockton and I visited Mr. Roland, an old settler who lived south of San
Gabriel river, and staid all night with him, finding him very sociable
and hospitable. All his work was done by Indians who lived near by, and
had been there as long as he. He had a small vineyard, and raised corn,
squashes, melons and all that are necessary for his table, having also a
small mill near by for grinding corn and wheat without bolting. The
Indians made his wine by tramping the grapes with their feet in a
rawhide vat hung between four poles set in the ground. The workmen were
paid off every Saturday night, and during Sunday he would generally sell
them wine enough to get about all the money back again. This had been
his practice for many years, and no doubt suited Mr. Roland as well as
the red men.
Roland was an old Rocky Mountain trapper who came to California long
before gold was discovered, and during the evening the talk naturally
ran to the subject of early days.
Mr. Roland related that while his party were in camp in the upper
Colorado they were visited by a small band of Indians who professed
friendship and seated themselves around the fire. Suddenly they made an
attack and each trapper had an Indian to contend with, except Mr.
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