San Andreas independent., 1858-02-20

the hardy miner THIS many day.
On Sunday morning, a good breakfast an
early start and choice supply of " silleryr
which had been sinked'' in on inside pocket
of our overcoat, we started down the river
passing the saw-mill now belonging to Marks
& Bro, and standing idle while the turg:d tide
keeps daming the race, and the proprietor
keeps damning the mill and the luck of a
miner. Below the mill is a narrow tongue of
land of over two miles in circumference, which
commands the river to diverge north at right
angles, to receive iiffts embrace the body of
Angels creek, and return parallel course
with its surplus treasure of slum and mud
Gently ascending the hill for Central Ferry,
Bostwick's Bar, Horseshoe Bend and a dozen
other famed mining camps are in view. The
neck of land we have just described looks like
an island, and in fact two to five hundred feet
of excavation would make it so and drain near
three miles of river bed; ; this Improvement is
practicable but is prevented by the mill own
erS who wish to retain their water privilege.
Crossing the hills to Central Ferry, we took
a near cut by following trail down and across
a deep mountain gorge, where the clear cold
water sparkled in the sun as it waited the bowls
of the manzenta bloom along-Nautilus shells
of the floral kingdom-carrying tribute of
vassal beauty and fragrance to the mountain
potentate which rules the golden tide. In this
bleberry, dwarfed whorteberry, and also wild
currant. After few minutes slow ride up
steep incline, we came on the road and then
hastily proceeded to Central Ferry, owned by
of the stream The Ferry was in good repair,
the houses large and commodouS-a store and
butcher shop and good road "on the other
side of Jordan were held out as inducements
to cross over. Pleasure, with its siren tongue
said go the unerring dictation Of inclination
said go ! the purposes of our plan seconded
the emphatic 60 our friend who was as deep
in the mud as we were in the mire, said go
Mr. Adams (direct desccndent in name and ma
tire, too) of the old apple bitter, said gol it is
only eight miles to Chinese. But Mouser
was firm" duty before pleasure, and we turned
our jaded horses north for Salt Spring Valley,
and other places where business pointed the
way, leaving our friends the editors in Tuol-
umne, to understand that VIC have no business
over there on newspaper campaign. Of
course, we 90 not wish to infer, the obliga-
tons are mutual, as we are very happy to
welcome +" them" every fortnight this side,
and will, if desirable, even aid them with our
contingent in the " annexation" business.
Taking the Stockton road, for tue Four
Springs, we rode about SIX miles over a level
or gently undulatng country, well timbcred
and apparently well watered-as we noted
several running streams and ditch of clear,
pure water, crossing the road-which indica-
ted no mining higher up on the Bear Mountain
range. At the Four Springs, while our fellow
traveller proceeded on to Stockton, we took
the road for Salt Spring Valley. Two miles
ride brought us into a mining region on the
head waters of Littlejohn's creek, at the ran
ches of Mr.. c. w. Cline and others two miles
farther on, and we were in the Valley, and
enjoying good and substantial homemade
dinner, prepared by Madam Felix. This val |
ley is one of the finest and largest in the
mountains, and as we intend to refer to it
again, we will merely for the present, praise
the homemade cheese, butter, Bread pickles,
preserves and kindness of 8" mine host" at
the Hotel, and say-au reroir.
From this point our way home lay through
the Gap" of Bear Mountain. The ascent up
this high ridge though irksome to man and
beast, is full of novelty and beauty at every
step. The high altitude of the summit, offers
a check to early vegetation quite apparent
upon contrast with the wales on either side,
below. Upon reaching the summit-about
Calaveras-a splendid panorama stretched out
before and around us. Eastward, the tower
ing Sierras, white with their everlasting SHOWS
loomed high above the darklng hills and for
ests that lay between. Westward, stood old
Diablo, in solitary gloom, the giant sentinel
of two empires-the Valley of the San Joa-
qun and the Sacramento. The course of the
rivers was clearly indicated by the long, dark
lines of timber that stud their banks, and from
the Sacramento we could plainly see the smoke
of several steamers. A long, narrow cloud
stretched across the valley to the northward,
but still above its upper verge the tops of the
Marysville Buttes peeped out, with good
evening" to their venerable kinsman of the
south. Towns, villas, farms, mining scenes,
wood and lawn, with focks, countless as erst
on q Tempe straying," all together composed
a scene of grandeur and quiet pastoral love-
illness such as we never before beheld We
the view as a sure token of the
impetuous progress California is making to-
wards that proud goal which is to render her
in truth, the Cynosure of all eyes.
San Andreas, with her neat white dwell
ings, her church upon the hill, and school
house on the green, her hotels, shops, stores
and her Independent, all cleaning in the light
of the sinking sun, were still three miles dis
tant. Suddenly, with a punch at Mazeppa
flank, that sent the spur into his smoking hide
9 up to the wel-head," homeward we took
our SOLITARY way" like Jehu.
There are other matters of curiosity and