Hinton Rowan Helper,
The land of gold; reality versus fiction
(1855)
“ Steadily pursuing our course, about twelve o’clock we came to the Stanislaus River, a small tributary stream of the San Joaquin. Here we stop to change horses and get dinner, there{166} being a sort of bastard hotel near the brink of the river. Numerous Indians, naked and hungry, could be seen prowling about this place, or seated in squads, partaking of a mess of worms, young wasps, grasshoppers, or any other similar dainty to which their good stars may lead them. It was a long time before the savage creatures would tolerate the presence of the white man amongst them ”
