Mr. Jack Hamlin's Mediation by Bret Harte


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Page 20

Two or three months passed in this monotonous duty, in which he
partly recovered his strength and his nerves. He lost his furtive,
restless, watchful look; the bracing sea air and the burning sun
put into his face the healthy tan and the uplifted frankness of a
sailor. His eyes grew keener from long scanning of the horizon; he
knew where to look for sails, from the creeping coastwise schooner
to the far-rounding merchantman from Cape Horn. He knew the faint
line of haze that indicated the steamer long before her masts and
funnels became visible. He saw no soul except the solitary boatman
of the little "plunger," who landed his weekly provisions at a
small cove hard by. The boatman thought his secretiveness and
reticence only the surliness of his nation, and cared little for a
man who never asked for the news, and to whom he brought no
letters. The long nights which wrapped the cabin in sea-fog, and
at first seemed to heighten the exile's sense of security, by
degrees, however, became monotonous, and incited an odd restlessness,
which he was wont to oppose by whiskey,--allowed as a part of his
stores,--which, while it dulled his sensibilities, he, however,
never permitted to interfere with his mechanical duties.

He had been there five months, and the hills on the opposite shore
between Tamalpais were already beginning to show their russet
yellow sides. One bright morning he was watching the little fleet
of Italian fishing-boats hovering in the bay. This was always a
picturesque spectacle, perhaps the only one that relieved the
general monotony of his outlook. The quaint lateen sails of dull
red, or yellow, showing against the sparkling waters, and the red
caps or handkerchiefs of the fishermen, might have attracted even a
more abstracted man. Suddenly one of the larger boats tacked, and
made directly for the little cove where his weekly plunger used to
land. In an instant he was alert and suspicious. But a close
examination of the boat through his glass satisfied him that it
contained, in addition to the crew, only two or three women,
apparently the family of the fishermen. As it ran up on the beach
and the entire party disembarked he could see it was merely a
careless, peaceable invasion, and he thought no more about it. The
strangers wandered about the sands, gesticulating and laughing;
they brought a pot ashore, built a fire, and cooked a homely meal.
He could see that from time to time the semaphore--evidently a
novelty to them--had attracted their attention; and having occasion
to signal the arrival of a bark, the working of the uncouth arms of
the instrument drew the children in half-frightened curiosity
towards it, although the others held aloof, as if fearful of
trespassing upon some work of the government, no doubt secretly
guarded by the police. A few mornings later he was surprised to
see upon the beach, near the same locality, a small heap of lumber
which had evidently been landed in the early morning fog. The next
day an old tent appeared on the spot, and the men, evidently
fishermen, began the erection of a rude cabin beside it. Jarman
had been long enough there to know that it was government land, and
that these manifestly humble "squatters" upon it would not be
interfered with for some time to come. He began to be uneasy
again; it was true they were fully half a mile from him, and they
were foreigners; but might not their reckless invasion of the law
attract others, in this lawless country, to do the same? It ought
to be stopped. For once Richard Jarman sided with legal authority.

But when the cabin was completed, it was evident from what he saw
of its rude structure that it was only a temporary shelter for the
fisherman's family and the stores, and refitting of the fishing-
boat, more convenient to them than the San Francisco wharves. The
beach was utilized for the mending of nets and sails, and thus
became half picturesque. In spite of the keen northwestern trades,
the cloudless, sunshiny mornings tempted these southerners back to
their native al fresco existence; they not only basked in the sun,
but many of their household duties, and even the mysteries of their
toilet, were performed in the open air. They did not seem to care
to penetrate into the desolate region behind them; their half-
amphibious habit kept them near the water's edge, and Richard
Jarman, after taking his limited walks for the first few mornings
in another direction, found it no longer necessary to avoid the
locality, and even forgot their propinquity.

But one morning, as the fog was clearing away and the sparkle of
the distant sea was beginning to show from his window, he rose from
his belated breakfast to fetch water from the "breaker" outside,
which had to be replenished weekly from Sancelito, as there was no
spring in his vicinity. As he opened the door, he was inexpressibly
startled by the figure of a young woman standing in front of it,
who, however, half fearfully, half laughingly withdrew before him.
But his own manifest disturbance apparently gave her courage.

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