they had nothing to do but to load and fire from morning to night. This is all wrong, an d I took occasion to say as much—in a spirit of pure kindness, and more in sorrow than in anger—to my companions and a few spectators at this time. Did I receive any thanks for my disinterested and gratuitous advice? Far from it; I got abuse and gross personalities instead. Such is human nature! I replied feelingly. I was tired and sore, and possibly a little irritable; but I solemnly affirm that I never said that I could whip any man in the company. I am no prize-fighter; why should I? As to the San Rafaelite who interfered, I consider him wholly inexcusable; and so far as he is concerned, am not sorry for what he got for his pains. It is an unpleasant subject, and I dislike to pursue it any further.
Next morning we were in the saddle again at eight o'clock, having despatched our game and firearms by the express to San Francisco, and ran our horses at the dead jump all the way to San Quentin, arriving just in time to get on board the boat for the city. As the boat glided away down the Bay, we looked back from its deck and saw the mountain standing out bold and free from cloud or fog in the bright morning sunlight, and bitterly thought of the experience of yesterday.
Thus, truthfully and dispassionately, after the lapse of months, have I written up this history of our great hunting, fishing, and warlike expedition to Tamalpais. As I have already remarked, Tamalpais is one of the finest of the lesser mountains of California; an at-
