as he stood on the summit of Mount
Tabor.

"Thought after thought in countless throng
Comes chasing countless thought along."

After we had rested and carefully
viewed the surrounding country, we
plunged into the dark woods on the
north side of the mountain and began
to descend toward a little valley far in
the distance.

Here we did not find the road quite
as steep as on the south side, but it
wound back and forth in a remarkable
manner. At one place Ben and Harry
sprang from the wagon, ran down a



Crossing St. Hekna. 223

rugged declivity and stood in the road
at least a half mile in advance of the
team.

In a short time we had for a travel-
ing companion a beautiful little stream
that for several miles marched abreast
of the horses. It danced and laughed
and sang so sweetly that we almost for-
got we were "homeward bound" as we
listened to the soft tunes that the joy-
ful brook pla}^ed on the stone keys and
willow harps.

This enchanting streamlet was still
robed in summer attire, and adorned
with grass and flowers that were fresh
and fragrant, while its cheerful brow
was fanned by the waving ferns.

It occasionally kissed the drooping
boughs of the fir, and breathed on the
tassels of the pine, and sprinkled the
fading leaves of the oak as if desirous
of seeing them refreshed.

At the foot of the mountain we parted
with our babbling companion which



224 Camping Out in California.

turned off in another direction and dis-
appeared among tall madronas and
pines that stood in the shade of the dark
hills with only their topmost boughs
penetrating the golden sunlight.

About the middle of the afternoon
we reached the village of Middletown,
situated near the centre of a fertile and
well cultivated valley.

Here our young campers enjoyed a
pleasant visit with a number of those
who had been their schoolmates.

From Middletown we continued our
journey and after passing many beauti-
ful farms and a large flouring mill we
found ourselves slowly ascending an-
other mountain which from its peculiar
shape is called Mt. Cobb.

About dark we reached the toll gate,
when a little man, without saying a
word, reached out his hand for the
money.

Our horses were now tired, but as we
could find no suitable spot for our



Crossing St. Selena. 225

wagon and tent, we moved on and reached
the summit about nine o'clock.

Here we concluded to camp by the
roadside in the midst of huge rocks.

Presently the boys had a roaring fire
blazing from a hollow place on the top
of a rock that was as large as a small
house, and on that foundation of s*>lid
stone we surrounded the bright fire that
lit up the trees around, to drink our tea
from tin cups, and enjoy our stale
bread and broiled rabbit steak.



CHAPTER XII.

HOME AT LAST.

The next morning was the Sabbath,
and as we were very uncomfortably
situated, we arose early and drove to
Glenbrook, a distance of four miles.

The descent was not steep and the
pleasant woods, the picturesque rocks,
the fallen trees, moss and fern covered,
which surrounded us on every side, en-
abled us to. decide that this was the
most delightful mountain we had found
in our journey.

We soon reached a little glen and
brook between two mountains, and one
of the loveliest summer resorts in the
State.

The brook fed by living springs which
have their birth in the cool, leafy re-



Home at Last. 227

ceses of the mountains, ripples with a
musical flow over the rocks all through
the long, dry summer, and the water is
ever clear and cold.

Here we camped over the Sabbath,
close by a little fall in the shade of the
willows which grew along the brink, and
if the weather had not been quite so
warm this would have been a delightful
camping ground.

Among the green grass which bor-
dered the stream were blooming many
varieties of lovely wild flowers, while
the grapevines and feathery clematis
bending their graceful forms over the
limpid brook found cosy hiding places
where the care-free birds swayed to and
fro entertaining us with their sweetest
notes of melody, 'which, mingling with
the gentle cadence of the waterfall, made
music which seemed in perfect harmony
with the quiet rest of the Sabbath.

As we watched the happy birds that
went darting back and forth among the



228 Camping Out in California.

boughs so full of life and happiness, we
thought of the words of Luther. When
in deep distress of mind, he pointed to
a little bird that was singing sweetly,
and said: "Happy creature; he leaves
God to think for him."

What a blessing it would be if Chris-
tians would allow their Heavenly
Father to think for them, instead of
training all the energies of body and
mind to think for themselves.

"They that are led by the Spirit of
God are the sons of God;" but, in order
to be led by the Spirit of God, we must
allow Him to think for us, and thus
our thoughts are His thoughts.

The quiet of our Sabbath was broken
by only one accident.

Harry thought he must ride one of
the horses to water, and passing up a
steep place along the stream, the wil-
low boughs brushed him off and he
fell about ten feet head first into the
water.



Home at Last. 229

Ben, who was leading the horse, began
to scream for Will.

Harry had made no outcry, but was
struggling around with only the top of
his head out of the water, when Will
plunged in and brought him out.

Some one asked Harry why he did
not swim, and he replied earnestly, "I
did my very best."

Then Eda said, "Why Harry, do you
think it is right for a little boy to go
swimming to-day?"

He answered quickly, "It ain't wicked
to go swimming Sunday when you don't
know you're going until you're gone."

Fortunately the water was very deep,
so the fall did not injure him and our
Sabbath closed with feelings of grati-
tude and happiness.

The next morning we began to climb
Mt. Hanna. We do not know why it
received this name, but as it immedi-
ately adjoins the lofty Uncle Sam that
stands erect with his head often bathed



230 Camping Out in California.

in the nimbus clouds near three-quar-
ters of a mile above the shimmering
lake that slumbers at his feet, we won-
dered why it was not called Aunt
Hanna.

There are vast quantities of shining
black stones scattered over this moun-
tain, which some call obsidian and
others say are pieces of lava thrown up
by some volcano which is now extinct.

Although while on Mt. Hanna we
were below the shoulders of Uncle Sam,
we nevertheless had a fine view of the
country that lay before and so far be-
neath us.

The morning we started on our jour-
ney we left Clear Lake on the north,
but now we are approaching it from the
south, from whence it appears to better
advantage.

It is true from this mountain we
could not see all the lake because it is
about thirty-five miles long and vary-
ing in width from four to fifteen miles,



Home at Last. 231

yet we could look down on the center
and broadest portion of this beautiful
sheet of water. And while one of its
arms extended north among little hills
and valleys, and fertile farms, where the
wild flower blooms and the tule waves,
where peaches and plums ripen in the
shade of the oak, where the snowy
sheep and the hunted deer are near
neighbors and graze on the same ground,
the other arm was thrown around the
waist of Uncle Sam.

Lake County has been called the
Switzerland of America, and certainly
no spot on this continent is more de-
serving of the significant title.

Besides the striking resemblance of
climate, Clear Lake is near the size and
form of Geneva, while the wonderful
chain of Blue Lakes possess a striking
resemblance to the blue Thun and
Brienz and also the Lucerne.

And then the valleys enclosed by
mountain walls, mostly small 'tis true,



232 Camping Out in California.

but even in midwinter they are car-
peted with green grass and strewn with
delicate flowers and in summer yield-
ing burdens of wheat, alfalfa and fruit.

If we compare Big Valley, Scotts Val-
ley, and Bachelor Valley with Cham-
ouni, Zermatt, and Grindewald ol Swit-
zerland, we will find that the former
are not very much surpassed by the
latter in any respect.

Lake county, no doubt, has a promis-
ing future, because it is not yet thor-
oughly known that its peculiar com-
bination of lake and valley and moun-
tain and forest atmosphere is a balm
for nearly all diseases, while among its
hundreds of medicinal springs any
invalid may find, if not a permanent
cure, at least a speedy relief.

At Witter Springs, one mile east of
Blue Lakes and about six miles north
of Clear Lake, ie a bright little foun-
tain, called the "Dead Shot/' that has
been known to cure a number of can-



Home at Last 233

cers, so wonderful is its blood cleans-
ing power.

At the foot of Aunt Hanna we en-
tered the village of Kelseyville, which
stands half hidden by trees on the bank
of a large flowing stream. Here, after
traveling, perhaps, six hundred miles
from our starting point, we behold
scenery nearly equal to any on which
we had looked in all our journey,

In the center of this town is an im-
mense oak, which is far the largest we
have ever seen.

Here is a gas well, into which if you
drop on a dark night a lighted shaving,
a bright blaze will spring up to light
the streets.

Here is the best steam organ factory
we have ever visited. It is rilling the
mountains and valleys with sweetest
music and pouring its golden notes into
many an humble home.

Immediately adjoining Kelseyville is
a prune orchard, fully as beautiful and



234 Camping Out in California

as thrifty as any we had passed.

This town is a favored spot. It is
bounded on the south by Uncle Sam
and Aunt Hanna, on the east by a fer-
tile plain, stretching away to the lake
shore, on the west by the meandering
stream and the green clad hills beyond,
and on the north by rich farms, where
sixty bushels of wheat to the acre has
been grown partly in the shadow of
broad spreading oaks, and it is sur-
rounded by fine horses, cattle and flocks
of sheep.

This quiet village contains four
churches, and the commodious, well
furnished and properly conducted
Uncle Sam Hotel, where such as are
overburdened by the excitement of
city life, can find a superior place for
rest and recuperation.

Leaving this town we passed along
the valley road, on either side of which
lay productive farms that are in no



Home at Last. 235

way inferior to those in the large val-
leys of California.

Presently we reach Lakeport, which,
like ancient Rome, is built on seven
picturesque hills. In some time, in
the not far distant future, this village
will very probably be known as a great
city on the shore of a beautiful lake
and the center of a vast natural sani-
tarium. Lakeport has five churches,
two weekly papers, large flouring mill,
two banks and a fine school building.

Passing through this city of the Lake,
we soon enter a little cottage which is
empty, but not by any means " swept
and garnished." And as we began to
sing,

"Be it ever so humble,
There is no place like home,"

a six foot tramp appears at the door,
and, after bowing very politely, he soars
aloft on the wings of eloquence: "My
name," he exclaims, "is John Wilson
Doubleday. I am a cousin of Colonel J.
W. Doubleday, you know; everybody



236 Camping Out in California.

knows him. I am a gentleman, first
class, you know, was raised a gentle-
man, but am out of money; the best of
men will be strapped once in a while,
you know, and I would like to stay
with you a few days until I can get a
position as captain of one of the steam-
boats."

We concluded, not only from his won-
derful eloquence, but the smell of his
breath, that he was too familiar with
evil spirits and had just come from one
of their Lakeport dens; consequently,
after giving him a lunch, we advised
him to double day at some place where
he could work for his board.

As the night gathered around us, we
humbly thanked our Heavenly Father
for his protecting care during our long
journey, and also for bringing us all
safely back to our homes. And as we
retired to rest, we thought that our
journey was an emblem of the journey
of life.



Home at Last. 237

We start out in infancy, and, after
travelling over mountains of happiness,
and through valleys of trouble and
along the ocean of infinite grace, we
return to the very place from whence
we started. "Dust thou art and unto
dust thou shalt return,"

But from the death bed we start out
on a journey that will never end.
Through what kind of a country will
we travel eternally ?



UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY
BERKELEY

Return to desk from which borrowed.
This book is DUE on the last date stamped below.



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B 19 1956



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