there was no chance to spend their money, and the little they had was burning their pockets.
Jim Beckwith made a handsome little clean-up during the two days they were camped there.
When the Colonel was ready to pull out for San Francisco he came to me and invited me to come to the Fort and spend a few months during the winter. I told him I did not know where I would winter, but preferred to seek quarters where I could hunt for a livelihood. I told him I did not wish to put in another winter lounging around as I did the last one. The Colonel made me a proposition to come to the Fort after I had visited my friend, Jim Beckwith, saying that he would organize a hunting party among the officers and take a trip north of San Francisco on the Russian river.
The country to which we wished to go is now Sonoma County, Cal., of which Santa Rosa is the county seat. In fact the region is now called Santa Rosa Valley, and it is well named, for it is a great garden of roses and other beautiful flowers that grow indigenously and in luxurious profusion. At the head of the valley are the famous geysers of California.
The Colonel, after dividing the horses with me, started for the Fort, I agreeing to join him there in a few weeks for the hunt.
After remaining at Jim Beckwith's for a few days, he and a gentleman from Sacramento came to a trade, Jim selling out "slick and clean."
Jim had too much money to stay in the mountains. I saw $12,000 weighed out to him in gold-dust, and I
