Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-08-23

4
was pleasant frankness in his face; and 1
promptly said 'Come onp'
Neither of us will be likely. to forget that
day-the most awful of all my journey. We
missed the trail, and for six anguished hours
struggled through the heavy sand, over fiery
hills and down hollows that were like fur
mace l had thought knew thirst before;
| but 1t was never understood until that
afternoon. A score of times L thought we
must fall and die there, and only mulish
will kept us up. For the last five miles
l had to help poor Munier along by the arm.
And just at sunset We came, more dead than
alive, to Stoddard's Wells, the only water
in so miles. There was a little flow of
water from tunnel in the hill, and a mis-
cradle ''house" of split shakes, inhabited
by the two only absolute ours 1 met in
nearly five months. They would not let US
sleep in the house, though offered a hand
| tul of silver for the use of a battered chair
near the ire-for my arm showed bad symp-
toms that day, and dared not catch cold in
1t. They said they did not keep house for
tramps, and when I showed them pocket
fu1 of credentials waved them aside, Vowing
they could not read, which was lie.
TURNED OUT INTO THE NIGHT
They ordered us out of the house, and
stood in the door berating us in the yilest
language. Our blood boiled, but we could
not even take the old, savage satisfaction of
thrashing them, for they were wretched,
hacking consumptives come here to stave
off death, and even a cripple could not strike
them. A grim night We passed by our lit
tie campfire of greasewood twigs-4, 900 feet
above the sea, and chilled bv fierce wind
from of the snow peaks of the Sierra Madre.
l was worn out, for my days walk had been
40 mles-1S before Munier Joined me at
Daggett-and miles of great suffering: but 1
dared not go to sleep. At last WEAKNESS
overcame me and 1 dropped of. When 1
woke Munier was sitting and shivering by
the little fire and feeding it with weeds,
while / was warmly wrapped in his huge old
ulsterl The unselfish fellow had gone cold
himself TO save me from a chill that he knew
would be dangerous.
The next days eqnally painful tramp was
mostly down hill, but even more torrid as
we came to lower attitudes. Never was
there so blessed sight as when, at last, we
looked down from the top of a high ridge
which has since been discovered to be
mountain of pure marble-to green ribbon
of valley, broad, clear, shallow river,
the Mojave, We stopped at pleasant
ranch, where gray-headed Rogers had his
1000 snowy-feeced Angora goats, and next
day, crossing the river where the little
railroad town of Victor has since been built.
plodded up the long, sandy slope toward
the noble range which shuts off the GRIM
NEST of deserts from the Eden of the
world.
CLOSE OF THE LONG JOURNEY.
Up the long. smooth slope we came with
the afternoon, paused on the brink of the
sudden jumping off place. and plunged
down into the steep depths of the strange
l,11On Toh
Pass A few miles of barren gullies and
ridges, and we came to a little house beside
tender green where the grateful sands of
the arroyo thanked a tiny spring. And
here poor Munter fell, unable to move an
other step. l made arrangements at the
house for him, gave him half nv dwindling
money, and with hearty and regretfu1
handclasp left the brave fellow and hurried
on down the canon.
In the soft, sweet evening came to the
first fence l had seen in 500 miles, and an
orchard in fragrant bloom of peach and
apricot, and to the hospitable little farm
house that used to be ''Vlncent's.,'' Ah,
such luxury! When kindly Mrs Vincent |
knew me, she spread such supper as nv
lOng-abused stomach had lost all memory of. |
and for that 1 had had no fruit in so long.
she gave me IN sumptuous array about my |
plate IA kinds of delicious homemade pre- |
serves! That night, for the first time since |
breaking my arm, 1 was able to get off all |
clothing, and revel in a glorious bath and |
spotless bed.
Next day trotted gaily down the canon,
climed over the western wall, and struck |
out along the foothills. Now L was truly in |
Goods country'-the real Southern Cali !
tornia which is peerless. 1t was the last
day of January. The grounds was carpeted |
with myriad wild flowers, birds filled the
air with song, and clouds of butterflies dut- |
tered past me. waded clear, icy trout
brooks, startled innumerable flocks of quail, !
and ate fruit from the gold-laden trees of |
the first orange orchards I had ever seen.
Pretty Pomona gave me pleasant lodgings |
that night, and next day, February l, 1856, |
a 3O-mile walk through beautiful towns,
past the picturesque old Mission of San |
Gabriel, and down matchless valley, |
brought me at midnight to my unknown |
home in the City of the Angels.
CHARLES +. LUN1MIs.