Sizing up my audience, I favorably compared California to Oregon, both for its opportunities and for the general character of possibility the political climate afforded. The time was ripe to be West! Certainly, I added, when there were enough Americans in California, California would become a part of America; so had been our nation's progress most of the way across the Continent—except, of course—for what we fought for from England and what we bought out from France.

Sutter nodded agreeably, if mildly at all of this. I was, after all, preaching the choir. Not yet dropping my gaze, he motioned for a few other men to come over, varying in age and occupation. He did not send me away, but he did not beg me to sit, either. I felt it all begin to slip away: I grasped the moment by the throat! I charged in, steeled with inebriated valor:

[Raising a glass:]

"Hear, hear! To next year!"

The heat of the room again bore down upon me with a menacing intensity.

"I raise a glass! To next year!"

[A stifling pause. His nerves nearly get the better of him, merely recollecting this moment.]

"Oh?" Sutter asked, "Vat happens then?"

"I shall return! Captain Sutter," I continued, "You asked me what I think of an overland migration; I tell you, it begins next year."

"Whom vill you bring?"

[He pauses suddenly.]

Well, I'll be damned Sutter! I hadn't thought of that, but there wasn't any time to waste!

"Tradesmen!" I blurted out.

[Another pause.]

My elders nodded mildly, as elders will when their juniors' notions are not entirely dangerous or laughable. This placed me half a notch above disappointment. I had to work fast:

"Tradesmen so that you may properly lay the foundation that will induce the overland migration! You, Captain Sutter, provide both the military cover and grain to sow the seeds of political stability; you, Sir, are a BORN founding father, but what of the society you must found?"