Memories of a 19th Century Mountain Girl

“We lived on the steep hillside of one side of a gulch in the bottom of which stood the shingle mill. I can remember how steep it was because my father would carry me until we got down on the level when he took me down to the mill or up the skid road on those never to- be-forgotten and exciting expeditions. As soon as the men could get into the woods, in the spring they would cut and fall the timber, peel it, and when the weather was right burn the trash and work the timber so that they were able to cross cut the logs in lengths from 12 to 20 feet usually, unless there was a special order.“

“The mill was overhauled and prepared for the summer’s run and where it was possible a dam would be built for the log pond or a log way constructed where the bull teams would bring the logs. The skid road must also be put into shape. One of the most exciting days was when my father would take me part way up the skid road, put me on a stump beside the skid road where I could watch the oxen bring down those logs. I wish I could make you see them with the heavy yokes on their necks, the driver goading them on with his own particular vernacular and calling each one by name, particularly the leaders. No team was much good without a good leader. No whips were used, only a short goad, four and a half feet long with a brad on the end, and the teams were usually no less than four yoke, depending of course on the size of the mill. Engineering those logs so they didn’t run into the oxen was some job.“

“The mill community was interesting. There were cabins built for the men and a cookhouse where they ate. The cook at our mill was chinese, … They had good food and plenty of it. During the winter many of the men would go down to the valley and work on the ranches or in some cases stay at the mills where the winter was spent gambling, and when the mills opened in the spring there was always a supply of labor because most of the men were broke by then … Another exciting event at the mill was when the peddler arrived. His wagon was a general store on wheels and I can remember the men crowding around the wagon making their purchases while I was wondering what treasure would come my way. Hintz of San Mateo has a lucrative trade up at the mills.“

Another vivid recollection of my childhood in the mountains were the fires. In the stories of these early mills there is frequent reference to the fact that the mill was burned… I can remember seeing the fire in the distance, crackling and jumping from tree to tree and sky with an angry red glow, being aware of the fear and anxiety among the women at the camp. Of course all the men were fighting the fire. I was deeply impressed after one fire had been stopped when my father stumbled in, told my mother, “We’ve stopped it. It won’t get the mill,”  then fell asleep with his clothes on completely exhausted, and couldn’t be aroused for hours.“

“Of course there were many interesting characters ….. One I remember particularly, as I was fascinated by the hook he wore where his left hand was missing. He handled the heavy loads with the greatest of ease. He had a very high pitched voice and was known as Squeally Bob.“