heard of this region, I made up my mind to go there the first time I got
an opportunity.

Among the first acquaintances I made here was a dear old man named A. C.
Chauvin, formerly of St. Louis, Mo., and of French descent. He had spent
many years in the Northwest, hunting and trapping. He was an excellent
shot with both rifle and shotgun. Notwithstanding the fact that he was
slightly afflicted with a nervous disorder akin to palsy, which kept his
left arm and hand, when not in use, constantly shaking, the moment he
drew up his gun, his nerves were steady, and his aim perfect. He
despised the modern breech-loading rifle, and insisted on shooting an
old-fashioned, muzzle-loading, single-barrel rifle, made by a fellow
townsman, Henry Slaughterbach. It was an exceedingly accurate and
powerful shooting gun. Chauvin was a thorough hunter, well versed in
woodcraft, up in camp equipage and the requirements of men on a two or
three weeks' hunting trip.

Off in the Dust.

During the summer of 1876 I had been hard at work. The weather had been
hot and trying. In the latter part of September, Mr. Chauvin proposed
that I go with him on a deer hunt to the Liebre Ranch. I was practicing
law, and after consulting my partners, I eagerly consented to accompany
him. He made all the preparations. On the 30th of September he started a
two-horse wagon, loaded with most of our outfit, on ahead, in charge of
a roustabout. On October 2nd, we followed in a light one-horse wagon,
taking with us our blankets, a few provisions and a shotgun. We had a
hard time pulling over the grade beyond San Fernando, but finally made
it. We went on past Newhall, and camped the first night on the bank of
the Santa Clara River.