Elizabethan chimney, on a space scarcely larger than the crown of a hat,
calmly surveying the world beneath him. High infantile voices appealed
to him in vain; baby arms were outstretched to him in hopeless
invitation; he remained exalted and obdurate, like Milton's hero,
probably by his own merit "raised to that bad eminence." Indeed, there
was already something Satanic in his budding horns and pointed mask as
the smoke curled softly around him. Then he appropriately vanished,
and San Francisco knew him no more. At the same time, however, one Owen
M'Ginnis, a neighboring sandhill squatter, also disappeared, leaving San
Francisco for the southern mines, and he was said to have taken Billy
with him,--for no conceivable reason except for companionship. Howbeit,
it was the turning-point of Billy's career; such restraint as kindness,
civilization, or even policemen had exercised upon his nature was gone.
He retained, I fear, a certain wicked intelligence, picked up in San
Francisco with the newspapers and theatrical and election posters he
had consumed. He reappeared at Rocky Canyon among the miners as an
exceedingly agile chamois, with the low cunning of a satyr. That was all
that civilization had done for him!
If Mr. M'Ginnis had fondly conceived that he would make Billy "useful,"
as well as companionable, he was singularly mistaken. Horses and mules
were scarce in Rocky Canyon, and he attempted to utilize Billy by making
him draw a small cart, laden with auriferous earth, from his claim to
the river. Billy, rapidly gaining strength, was quite equal to the task,
but alas! not his inborn propensity. An incautious gesture from the
first passing miner Billy chose to construe into the usual challenge.
Lowering his head, from which his budding horns had been already pruned
by his master, he instantly went for his challenger, cart and all. Again
the scientific law already pointed out prevailed. With the shock of
the onset the entire contents of the cart arose and poured over the
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