is mild and balmy, and in place of barren hills and plains we ride through groves of beautiful and splendid oaks, the road is level as a house floor, and as the setting sun throws the long shadows athwart our path and every turn discloses a new scene of beauty, we can imagine ourselves in fairyland. As we dash along through the oak openings, the turtle doves fill the groves, and countless numbers of squirrels can be seen frolicing about. Here we are at the Mission. We dismount for a few minutes to take some refreshment and let our horses breathe. The (I blush a little) Milk Punch^^ was excellent; and now we are off again, cross a deep gulch with a fine stream of water running through it, and after a ride of three miles through the Oaks we strike out upon a level plain without tree or bush for ^Yt miles. After this we come to more oaks and the whole country covered with wild oats and looking like an immense Harvest field. Soon we come to Angelo's Ranch^- situated in the midst of this beautiful country distant from Saint Matthews 1 2 miles. We alight for a time, but this is not our stopping place, "still must we on" although feeling marvelous stiff, in the joints, twelve miles farther to Wistman Ranch.^^ The sun is down, darkness comes on apace, and we push our horses still farther, for the grizzly bears are numerous in this neighbor- hood and an encounter with them is not to be courted. We have a revolver each and hold them in readiness. We have no moon to guide us by its sil- very light and tis now too dark to distinguish the road. We have left the oaks and now come to an open country; trusting to our horses to keep the road, we give them the rein and dash forward into the seemingly dark void. We now hear the bellowing of a herd of wild cattle and before we know it are in the midst of them. Luckily we were not attacked by any of them and after losing the road two or three times came across an Indian Camp and by dint of the little Spanish I could talk ascertained that we were within a half a mile of Wistman's Ranch. We soon arrived there and received a hearty welcome, gave our horses in charge of the Indian boy to stake them out in the rich grass and sat down to a good supper looking more Hke home than any thing we have seen yet. Our host is a true Yankee, and his wife and three or four noisy children transported us back to Yankeeland. I can assure you we were very glad to retire to bed after a ride of 42 miles in 6 hours, and slept soundly. I was up by sunrise, a more beautiful morning the sun never shone upon. The front of the house commands a view of the bay and "Con- tra Costa" with the distant peaks of the Sierra Nevada;^* the ground back of the house is covered with a heavy growth of trees and fields of wild mus- tard. After a good breakfast, fine butter churned this morning being the I greatest luxury, we saddled our nags and started for Pueblo distant only 1 2 miles. I should never wish to live in a more beautiful country than this we are riding through this morning; it has given me a different opinion of Cali- fornia, and if I were going to remain in California should leave the sand hills of San Francisco very quickly. We ride on through oaks and fields of wild
