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J. A. Graves - Out of Doors - California and Oregon
this strolling compound of savagery and education. Environment is largely responsible for man's
condition. Here was a man who had acquired considerable knowledge of the world and books, he was
still a savage in his manner of life and in his habits.
His manner of talking was forceful and natural, and his command of language remarkable. The ease and
abandon with which he wielded the arguments of those who rail against the existence of a Divine Being
would lead one, listening to him, to imagine himself in the lecture-room of some modern university.
A Great Day's Sport on Warner's Ranch.
Think of three days in the open! Three glorious days in the sunshine! "Far from the madding crowd!" Far
from the rush and stir and whirl and hum of business! Far from the McNamara horror, and its sickening
aftermath of jury bribing!
A short time ago, whirling over good roads and bad roads, through orange groves with their loads of
fruit, rapidly assuming golden hues; through miles and miles of vineyards, now 'reft of all leaves,
vineyards in which the pruners were already busily at work; past acres and acres of ground being
prepared for grain; through wooded canyons and pine-screened vales; ascending from almost sea level to
upwards of 3000 feet - a party of us went to Warner's Ranch after the famous canvasback ducks.
We left my home at 7:30 o'clock a. m., some of us in my machine, and two of the party in a runabout.
Filled with the ambition of youth, the driver of the latter car reached Mr. William Newport's place in the
Perris Valley, a run of seventy-six miles, in two hours and twenty minutes. We jogged along, reaching
Newport's in three hours, and found the exultant, speed-crazed fiend waiting for us. He was loud in the
praise of his speedy run. Of all of this take note a little later in the story.
We lunched with Mr. Newport, and then took him with us. What a day it was! A radiant, dry, winter day!
The whole earth was flooded with sunshine. Not a cloud was in the sky. The air was full of snap and
electric energy. The atmosphere absolutely clear. We wound in and out of the canyons, over dry and
running streams, always ascending, climbing the eastern shoulder of Mt. Palomar, not to the top, but to a
pass by which the ranch is reached.
Before 4 o'clock we were on Warner's Ranch. This property could well be described as the "Pamir" of
Southern California. True, its elevation is but slight compared with the 16,000 feet of that great Asiatic
country, bearing the name of "Pamir," where roams in all his freedom the true "Ovis Poli" or "Big Horn."
The ranch comprises about 57,000 acres of land, and is the largest body of comparatively level land at
even an elevation of 3500 feet in Southern California. It is an immense circular valley, rock ribbed and
mountain bound. Out of it, through a narrow gorge to the southwest, flows the San Luis Rey River. The
ranch is well watered. Much of it during the winter season is semi-bog or swamp land, and at all times
affords wonderful grazing for stock. There are circling hills and level mesas and broad valleys here and
there. Nestled between the hills are a number of mountain lakes, fed by innumerable springs around their
edges. These lakes furnish food for the canvasback duck in the various grasses and other growths, of
which they are extremely fond.
First Bag.
Contrary to good judgment, we drove to one of these lakes, and had half an hour's shooting that evening.
We got about twenty birds. We proceeded to the hotel, and after drawing our birds, hung them up where
they would freeze that night and not be in the sun while we were shooting next day.
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