Part 5

Although stock, potato-raising, and dairying are still continued in a small degree in the vicinity of Tomales, the chicken industry is gradually superseding them, and the success attending this latest departure portends well for the future of this section.

The small ranches, which formerly were most all incumbered with one or more mortgages, are now being cleared, and the general aspect for the small rancher is greatly improved.

Poultry raising as conducted under the present modern system is vastly superior to anything of its kind in former years.

Some idea of the dimensions of this industry were gained during a recent visit made by the author to one of these modern poultry farms. The ranch was of average size, and in the neat yards inclosed by high wire fences I saw some thirteen hundred laying hens, while eight hundred pullets for the market, all graded as to age, were in various yards.

From this ranch between five and six cases of eggs are shipped every week, each case containing thirty-six dozen; averaging two hundred and seventy-five cases or thirty thousand eggs per year.

In the laying season over seven hundred eggs are gathered daily.

The multitudinous, airy, white-washed hen houses in the numerous, cleanly, sunny inclosures; the fields of grain raised for the fowls' consumption; the incubator room and the adjoining brooder; the granary, from which at stated periods the food is measured, are all adjuncts of the modern poultry ranch.

It is interesting to watch the great flocks of fowl, all snowy white (the white leghorn being preferred), darting noisily toward the attendant as he enters their enclosure at feeding-time, and the ensuing scramble for wheat, and the continuous pick-pick-pick verily make the hen a definition for perpetual motion--in feeding-time, at least.

As but five acres of ground are necessary to carry on successfully a moderate size chicken ranch, it may be seen how with less outlay and incident expenses the small rancher can make better profits in this industry than in dairying.

West of Tomales Bay a long narrow neck of land stretches far out into the Pacific. Though somewhat barren in appearance, owing to the dearth of trees and the abundance of low, tangled sagebrush, the fact that grass grows the entire year on its slopes makes Point Reyes the famous dairying center of Marin.

Ever since the early eighties dairying has been the leading industry of the County, and, although carried on in all sections of Marin, it is on Point Reyes that it assumes the most extensive proportions.

The ranches there are larger in extent, all owned by one person, namely Mr. Webb Howard, and are rented yearly by the tenants, the cattle being included with the land.

The average ranch on the Point contains about fourteen hundred and fifty acres and one hundred and eighty cows; the old stock being replenished as required.

Great quantities of butter are shipped by schooner and rail to the City where it finds a ready market, as the Marin County butter is known to be of a superior quality.

A trip to the Point by carriage cannot be made under two days at the shortest, and as hotels and inns are unknown in this region, the traveler is obliged to solicit shelter for the night from one of the ranch houses which are scattered at wide intervals.

There are few places, save Ireland, where hospitality, the real whole-souled, hearty, genuine hospitality, is so dispensed without question to the stranger as in this tiny northwest corner of Marin.

Though loath to intrude, the hearty reception tendered and the ensuing civilities received convince the wayfarer of his welcome, and have earned a reputation for these good people rivaling in proportion the Emerald Isle itself.

After spending the night at one of these ranches we proceeded on the following morning to the most interesting, fascinating, and historical sheet of water in Marin County.

In 1577, Sir Francis, then only Captain, Drake, already distinguished as an experienced navigator, fitted out, with the pecuniary aid of the court, a buccaneering expedition against the Spaniards.

After reaching the Pacific and intercepting several privateers, he bethought himself of another object, that of finding the much-talked-of northern passage from the Pacific to the Atlantic.

If he could discover this passage, he would not only perform a notable service to his country, but would have a comparatively short and safe voyage homeward. But after a run of nearly two months, he experienced such bitterly cold weather, his people suffered so severely, and his heavily-laden ship leaked so badly, that he deemed it prudent to abandon any further search for a northern strait; and accordingly running down the Coast in search of a stopping place, he passed the long, projecting promontory of Point Reyes, and under its lee discovered "a convenient and fit harbor" in which he anchored on June 17th, 1579. At this place, which is now known as Drake's Bay, he remained thirty-six days. During that period, which was required to thoroughly repair and refit his vessel, he had a number of interviews, and some remarkable intercourse with the natives.

Upon sailing into the harbor he found a wild, desolate looking beach; but the next day Indians appeared in considerable numbers. One of them paddled out in a canoe to within hailing distance of the ship, where he made a long oration, accompanied by violent gestures, after which he returned to the shore. Approaching the ship a second time in the same manner, he brought with him a head-dress of black feathers tastefully arranged, and a small basket, neatly woven, filled with an herb called "tabah." These he delivered to the English, and with the exception of a hat could not be induced to accept any of the presents offered him in return.

All his actions, as well as of the people on shore, indicated respect and deference for the English, as if they were a superior race of beings.

In the course of a few days Drake, having carefully surveyed the place, brought his ship to anchor near the shore and landed his men with arms and provisions to set up tents and build a barricade. The Indians at this collected on the neighboring hills and looked down with wonder and amazement, so much so, that the English supposed themselves taken for gods; a supposition which proved correct, for, descending, the male Indians brought ornaments, net-work, quivers, skins, etc., intended for offerings, while the women performed divers wild and violent dances, in which many of the participants were cut and wounded.

In order to prevent a repetition of this gruesome spectacle, Drake ordered religious services to be performed in their presence, thus indicating that they too were but creatures of a God above.

After prayers, psalms were sung which especially attracted the attention of the Indians.

Music was a language they could understand, being a universal language intelligible to every human heart; and they were so delighted that at every pause they testified their pleasure.

The business of repairing and refitting the vessel being at length finished, the cargo re-embarked and the peaceful character of the Indians being now so well understood that no trouble from them was apprehended, Drake, with a number of his crew made a short excursion inland, which being necessarily made on foot extended but a few miles, and did not afford any wide or distant view; and the English, like the Spaniards under Cabrillo, though within less than a day's travel of the most spacious and magnificent bay in the world, had no idea of its existence.

When ready to sail, Drake erected, by way of monument and memorial of his having been there and taken possession of the country, a large post, firmly planted, upon which he caused to be nailed a plate of brass engraven with the name of the English Queen, the day and date of his arrival, the voluntary submission of the inhabitants to English sovereignty, and beneath all, his own name. Fastened to the plate was an English sixpence of recent coinage, so placed as to exhibit Her Majesty's likeness.

All of which goes to prove that Drake supposed himself to be the discoverer of this region, and was not aware that thirty-six years previously the Spaniards had passed the same Coast and anticipated him.

Having found no northern passage to the Atlantic, and making up his mind that if one existed it was too far north to be practical, Drake returned by the route pointed out by Magellan in his circumnavigation of the globe.

On July 23d, after many ceremonies of a religious character, and taking an appropriate farewell of the sorrowful natives, he stood out to sea. As his ship lessened in the distance, following the sun over the trackless waste of waters, the Indians ran to the tops of their hills to keep it in view as long as possible, and lighted fires, which indicated, long after they themselves could be distinguished from the vessel, that they were still watchful, and doubtless turning their straining eyes toward the departing strangers.

The waves of three centuries have lapped these shores; countless storms have swept over the promontories, and many tempests have grappled with its cliffs since the year when Sir Francis first dropped anchor in the Bay which ultimately bore his name.

Time has made few changes in this Ocean inlet, as man has practically shunned it; for excepting a small cabin on the beach, no habitation meets the eye. The schooner which touches there three times a week to load with butter is the only keel that rides its waves, and the aspect of the lofty white cliffs which encircle this Bay of Solitude are unaltered since the time when, attracting the English navigator to their shores, they received, because of their resemblance to his native cliffs of Dover, the appellation New Albion.

It seems unjust and absurd that on the shores of this Bay, which was the theater of Drake's actions in our State, no post, stone or monument is placed whereon to commemorate his landing, or inform the traveler of the history enacted there; while in Golden Gate Park on a mound which his eyes never saw, on soil which his feet never trod, a lofty granite cross rears its solid strength in his commemoration; an illustration of the inconsistencies of man.

Point Reyes should be called the home of the meadowlark for, while found in other parts of the County, it is on this northern point that the larks congregate in such numbers that the air is always vibrant with their cheerful, happy songs.

Perched on the lichen-covered fences, these large, plump, yellow-breasted fellows are invariably heard warbling their rich, mellow notes with untiring energy, and making, to my mind, the sweetest and most enchanting of all music.

There is perhaps no more dangerous and uninviting extent of coast line from Oregon to Mexico than that extending from Point Reyes northward to the mouth of Tomales Bay.

To go ashore at any point along this line is to go to certain destruction, and the fact of its proximity to the harbor of San Francisco renders it doubly dangerous, as vessels have gone hard ashore under full sail, little dreaming that danger was near and thinking that they were heading for the Golden Gate.

Since the establishment, on the extreme point, of the lighthouse in 1870, there have been few wrecks compared with former years, while those imperiled on the Coast receive assistance from the brave crew of the life-saving station located on the beach.

Near the close of a very murky, foggy day, in August, 1875, a sailing vessel, the Warrior Queen, bound from Auckland, New Zealand, to San Francisco, went ashore on the beach, about three miles north of the Point.

The sky had been so overcast with fog that her officers had not been able to take any observations for ten days and their "dead-reckoning" showed them to be many miles at sea.

Suddenly they found themselves in the breakers going ashore on a sand beach and by immediately casting anchor, the vessel was held from going hard ashore, although she was later driven far upon the beach.

The men embarked in three boats and put to sea rather than try to effect a landing in the surf, and reached San Francisco safely the following day.

When the Warrior Queen was discovered by the settlers the next morning after she struck, there was consequently no sign of life on board, and it became a matter of conjecture to those who had assembled on the beach as to what had become of the crew.

It was decided to go on board and discover, if possible, something to show the fate of the men, but the difficulty which confronted them was how to communicate with the ship.

At last, Mr. Henry Claussen, a sea-faring man of much experience (who still lives with his family on the Point), volunteered to swim out to the vessel and take a line on board with him. He performed the daring feat and was rewarded by finding that all books and instruments were gone, hence he knew that the men had put to sea.

On a ranch but a short distance from the light-house the only known relic of the wreck remains. This is none other than the Warrior Queen herself-the figure-head of the vessel. Clad in a suit of mail, a shield clenched tightly to her side, with head upraised in proud defiance, the Warrior Queen seems still to send a challenge to the elements; but now her battle is for life itself--against rain and wind and the decay of time.

While prolific in legends and memories, history is not the only vivifying current in Marin, and though linked inseparably with the past, she is not a worn and decrepit matron relying on artifice solely to revive her charms, but a young and vigorous maiden, in whom the ambitions, powers, and possibilities are all centered but untried.

That a new era is awakening for this region is without doubt. Large tracts of land formerly held intact are now being divided into building lots, and the rapidity with which these are selling portends a rapidly increasing population.

Various railroads are contending for rights of way, and countless rumors are in circulation, any of which means a changed aspect for the County.

The Marin Terminal is constructing a route from Petaluma to Point San Pedro, and two railroad companies have filed articles of incorporation for the avowed purpose of making some points on Marin's shore the land terminus for railroads from San Francisco to points in the northern part of the State.

The recent purchase of Silva Island, in Richardson's Bay, by the officials of the Western Pacific gives credence to a rumor that, a long wharf being constructed from this Island, the company would institute a terminus there.

The facilities which this County offers for a railroad center are undeniable; while the monopolistic control of the surrounding Bay terminals renders another railroad outlet a practical necessity, and its adjacency to San Francisco and the excellent harbors which skirt its shores make Marin a natural and practical center.

Without doubt the ensuing years will witness many radical changes for this northern peninsula.

With the increase in population there is every probability that a connection from Point San Pedro across to the Belt Line on the Contra Costa shore will be consummated, linking the Bay counties by a boat ride of scarce fifteen minutes.

The new coaling station which the Government will erect at California City, a small place near Tiburon, is another enterprise in the County, which will call for the expenditure of more than three hundred and fifty thousand dollars. It is said that the Bureau of Equipment of the Navy Department has already signed with a New York firm to begin on this.

Having reached the limits of Marin's enterprises, and territory, Point Reyes, from which westward stretches an apparent infinitude of sea, to where the sun, now dipping on the verge of the horizon, casts its refulgent beams, I gazed backward on Marin which lay behind me glowing in the glory of the dying day.

The indented shore, on whose cliffs nature has hung no tapestry of verdure, now enshrouded in the lambent haze, no longer looked as if composed of material objects, but rather like its luminous wraith emerging from the sea. And as the mists of evening veiled it gradually from my view I murmured:

"There is a future as well as a past for this little County, a future not painted in the dim tints of the fading day, but in the bright, glorious radiance of the expectant morrow."