A war. Six days out and there’s a war. I wasn’t expecting something so quick, but what do I know? Nothing, is what I know. That’s been proven today. Didn’t think it’d be a war.

I heard it first from a merchant man going south down the trail earlier today, going down to San Francisco, as a matter of fact. If I recall it correctly, he was wearing a kind of burlap coat or the like, and was leading a mule with furs on its back. Looked about ready for winter, of all things. I thought he was insane, or a thief, or both. I began to think so the moment we met, when he asked me if I had heard about the assassination of the Austrian heir, and I told him I did, of course. I was expecting it to turn into a threat, in that he would kill me the same way Ferdinand had been killed if I didn’t give him the money. I only have about six and a half dollars of savings. He didn’t take it, though. Instead, he told me the war was official. Strange, strange times.

He told me he thought the Germans would join as well, which brought me right back to thinking it was a robbery. I have enough German blood in me that it shows in my face, and he had the accent of a Serb, so I thought it would be a poetic enough thing to do. I asked him if it was his plan to rob me and he assured me it wasn’t. People tire me.

The road was uninteresting before our conversation and after, up until I reached the next town, where I sit in an inn room writing this. The room is fine, but nothing worth mentioning other than the fact that I currently inhabit it. I’ll be gone in the morning, I hope. It’s after sunset now.

The town’s been buzzing with the news, which is how I got to believing the merchant man in the first place. I heard it from these people so quickly that I had no need to buy a newspaper. Strange, how you can hear all the news that’s actually worth hearing about without ever picking up a newspaper. Makes you question why you buy them at all.

I’ve been traveling up the Sacramento River for some time, but I only began to follow it once I got north and away from Sacramento itself. I have no use or want for the city, or any city ever again for that matter. Small towns are all I need for shelter and soon I’ll be free of them, too. Unfortunately, I had to make do with a room in Red Bluff two nights ago. It was better than sleeping on the forest floor, which I may make up my mind to do if I have too many more cities in my path.

I’m in a little cattle town called Cottonwood now, just a day or two’s journey from Redding, as I’m told. I’ll enjoy the quiet while I can.

I’ve mentioned it already, but I’ve reached the Cascadian forest. I saw the first of it a few days ago, a while south of Red Bluff. Evergreens surround this place, it’s terrific! It’s a shame people feel the need to come here and take what isn’t rightfully theirs, or anyone’s. Even I feel a tinge of guilt at the thought of taking a piece of the land up in Oregon as my own. I’ll be treating it as a guest whenever I’m able, which should be after the building of the cabin is finished. After that’s done, I’ll be as much a part of the place as the beavers and trees.

I must be going to bed. Lots of work to be done in three week’s time and lots of walking before then. Not to mention the people to be endured in the coming days. Always a price to be paid, I suppose. It will be worth it.