chase for about one hour. When we had him at the end of a rope he was
determined to go just the opposite way than we wanted him to, but the
man and the mustang at the other end of the rope had their way part of
the time, so after about two hours hard fighting we succeeded in getting
the little fellow down to the wharf where I found that there would not
be another boat until after dark, so I concluded to wait and come over
in the morning and ship him. The next thing was to dispose of the bull
for the night. I said, "Here is a coal bunker, we will put him in here."
So after getting permission we started for it with the bull at one end
of the rope and the vaquero at the other. The bull got a little the
better of the man and went up the wharf full tilt with the vaquero in
tow. The vaquero said, "There is a post on the wharf, the bull will go
one side and I will go the other and round him up." But he got rounded
up himself and left sprawled out on the wharf. This let the curtain down
for the night and the bull went back to the hills with the rope. I
returned to San Francisco, went back in the morning, hunted up my man
and mustangs, mounted and went into the hills again for my bull. This
was a bully ride, I enjoyed it hugely, found our game about noon, picked
up the rope with the bull on the end of it. He was still wild and full
of resistance. He was the hardest fellow of his size that I ever
attempted to handle. We made our way back to the landing, found the boat
waiting. I called the boat hands to help put him on board. They came. I
put one at his head, one on each side and one behind, and they all had
as much as they wanted to keep control of him. Finally he was made fast
on the boat. While on our way to San Francisco a lady from the upper
deck called down to me, saying, "I will give you one hundred dollars for
that bull." I said, "No, madam, you cannot have him, he is going into
the country for business."

After landing in San Francisco I had to take him from one wharf to