Jack London
On Board Roamer,
Sonoma Creek,
April 15, 1911
“Huh! Drive four horses! I wouldn’t
sit behind you—not for a thousand dollars—over
them mountain roads.”
So said Henry, and he ought to have known, for he
drives four horses himself.
Said another Glen Ellen friend: “What?
London? He drive four horses? Can’t
drive one!”
And the best of it is that he was right. Even
after managing to get a few hundred miles with my
four horses, I don’t know how to drive one.
Just the other day, swinging down a steep mountain
road and rounding an abrupt turn, I came full tilt
on a horse and buggy being driven by a woman up the
hill. We could not pass on the narrow road, where
was only a foot to spare, and my horses did not know
how to back, especially up-hill. About two
hundred yards down the hill was a spot where we could
pass. The driver of the buggy said she didn’t
dare back down because she was not sure of the brake.
And as I didn’t know how to tackle one horse,
I didn’t try it. So we unhitched her horse
and backed down by hand. Which was very well,
till it came to hitching the horse to the buggy again.
She didn’t know how. I didn’t either,
and I had depended on her knowledge. It took
us about half an hour, with frequent debates and consultations,
though it is an absolute certainty that never in its
life was that horse hitched in that particular way.
No; I can’t harness up one horse. But
I can four, which compels me to back up again to get
to my beginning. Having selected Sonoma Valley
for our abiding place, Charmian and I decided it was
about time we knew what we had in our own county and
the neighbouring ones. How to do it, was the
first question. Among our many weaknesses is
the one of being old-fashioned. We don’t
mix with gasolene very well. And, as true sailors
should, we naturally gravitate toward horses.
Being one of those lucky individuals who carries
his office under his hat, I should have to take a
typewriter and a load of books along. This put
saddle-horses out of the running. Charmian suggested
driving a span. She had faith in me; besides,
she could drive a span herself. But when I thought
of the many mountains to cross, and of crossing them
for three months with a poor tired span, I vetoed
the proposition and said we’d have to come back
to gasolene after all. This she vetoed just
as emphatically, and a deadlock obtained until I received
inspiration.
“Why not drive four horses?” I said.
“But you don’t know how to drive four
horses,” was her objection.
I threw my chest out and my shoulders back.
“What man has done, I can do,” I proclaimed
grandly. “And please don’t forget
that when we sailed on the Snark I knew nothing
of navigation, and that I taught myself as I sailed.”
