those days over five hundred miles in length, and took at least eleven days under the most favorable conditions; it obliged one to pass through the territory of the Hualpais and the Mojaves, to cross the Colorado River at the fort of the same name, and drive across the extreme southern point of Nevada, and then into California in the country of the Chimahuevis; to drag along over the weary expanse of the "Soda Lake," where for seven miles the wheels of the wagons cut their way into the purest baking soda, and the eyes grew weak with gazing out upon a snowy area of dazzling whiteness, the extreme end of the celebrated "Death Valley." After reaching San Bernardino, the aspect changed completely: the country became a fairyland, filled with grapes and figs and oranges, merry with the music of birds, bright with the bloom of flowers. Lowing herds and buzzing bees attested that this was indeed a land of milk and honey, beautiful to the eye, gladsome to every sense. The railroad had not yet reached Los Angeles, so that to get to San Francisco, travellers who did not care to wait for the weekly steamer were obliged to secure seats in the "Telegraph" stage line. This ran to Bakersfield in the San Joaquin Valley, the then terminus of the Southern Pacific Railroad, and through some of the country where the Franciscans had wrought such wonderful results among the savages whom they had induced to live in the "Missions." In due course of time Crook arrived at Omaha, Nebraska, his new headquarters, where the citizens tendered him a banquet and reception, as had those of the California metropolis—San Francisco.
