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Charles Frederick Holder.

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LIFE IN



p m \^r ~W "^

i JTI.JL-/

OPEN



SPORT WITH

ROD, GU M,

HORSE AND

HOUND



SOUTH ERK
CALIFORNIA









THE LIBRARY

OF
SANTA BARBARA

COLLEGE OF

THE UNIVERSITY

OF CALIFORNIA

PRESENTED BY

MR. AND MRS.R.W.VAUGHAN




Sport with Rod, Gun
Horse, and Hound

In

Southern California



By

Charles Frederick Holder

Author of " Life of Charles Darwin," " The Big Game Fishes"
" The Adventures of Torqua," etc.



Illustrated



G. P. Putnam's Sons

New York and London

TEbe TRntcfeerbocfeer press

1906



COPYRIGHT, 1906

BV
CHARLES FREDERICK HOLDER



Tlbe ttnlcfeerbocfeer pre, Hew



Preface

IN presenting these impressions of outdoor life and
sport in Southern California during twenty or
more years along shore and the Sierra Madre, I
should perhaps say that the point of view has been one
of personal experience alone, and the hunting days
described are as I found and tried to make them.

My conception of sport does not include a desper-
ate killing, a plethoric bag or creel ; the game is merely
an incident in the day, and in the splendid canons of
the Sierra Madre, I confess, has often been forgotten.
A hunting day, at least to my mind, should include
a drawing for all the senses, not game alone, but the
enjoyment of the flora, the variety in mountain view,
the vistas of different kinds, the charming changes of
colour and tone that sweep over the range as the hours
pass, and the thousand and one diversions which nature
always affords.

Southern California lends itself particularly to such
a definition of sport ; its hunting grounds are staged
with unwonted effects lofty mountains, pallid deserts,
seas of turquoise abounding not only in countless game
fishes, but in a marvellous variety of living forms which
appeal to the sportsman and fill out his days with aes-
thetic as well as practical experiences.

iii



IV



Preface



There is hardly wild game, big or small, in America
that is not menaced by the spectre of extinction, and
were it not for game laws, clubs of gentlemen, sportsmen
of various kinds, wild life would in a short time disap-
pear from the face of the earth. It should be the duty
of every sportsman to conserve the gifts of nature.
Sport with the gun, rod, spear, and hound is legitimate
and manly, but there is an unwritten law among gentle-
men that no sportsman will kill more than the camp de-
mands, or rational sport justifies. The rod catch of
tarpons last season at Tarpon, Texas, was nearly eight
hundred fish, yet every one not needed as a trophy was
released. I can conceive no greater example of self-
control than that illustrated by the angler who stops
fishing when but two tunas have been caught, though the
waters are covered with schools eager for the lure ; yet
I have witnessed this marvellous thing.

Southern California is an open book the year around.
Every day, winter or summer, has its invitation to the
lover of sport or nature ; not only in the south but
throughout the length of the land. The present volume
is confined to Southern California, as to cover the en-
tire State adequately would require much more
space. Northern California possesses even greater
natural wonders than the south and more big game,
at least among land animals. The section de-
scribed includes the region south of Point Concep-
tion, the counties of Santa Barbara, San Buenaven-
tura, Los Angeles, San Bernardino, Riverside, Orange,



Preface v

and San Diego, or, in brief, the lower part of the
State.

The conditions are so different from those in
Eastern America, the winter being the season of
flowers, the entire year an open one, inviting sports and
varied pastimes, that I have tried to convey to the reader
some idea of "life in the open" in the various seasons,
what to expect winter, or summer, in this land of the
palm and orange, and to a certain extent to answer
some of the questions relating to the country which I
have often been asked. Thus, to the world at large,
Southern California is merely a winter resort. This is
a popular misconception. It is, to my mind at least,
a far better summer resort, and the dwellers along its
shores and among the channel islands know an almost
perfect summer climate, and never experience the intense
often deadly, heat of the Atlantic seaboard. The truth
about Southern California is that it is an all-the-year-
round land, where it can honestly be said the disagreeable
features of life and climate are reduced to the minimum.

Southern California is so cosmopolitan that it belongs
to all America, and in this oasis between the desert and
the deep sea the country has a possession that will
prove in years to come one of its most valuable assets.
Yesterday it was a great ranch ; to-day it is a principal-
ity, and has taken its place among the great and active
centres of life, health, and commerce of the world.

C. F. H.

PASADENA, CALIFORNIA.



Contents



CHAPTER I.
ACROSS COUNTRY WITH GREYHOUNDS .... i

CHAPTER II.
HUNTING THE LYNX 17

CHAPTER III.
DEER-HUNTING IN THE SOUTHERN SIERRAS ... 37

CHAPTER IV.
WATER FOWL 49

CHAPTER V.
FOX-HUNTING IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA .... 63

CHAPTER VI.
A RAINBOW IN THE SIERRA MADRE 79

CHAPTER VII.
FOLLOWING THE LOWLAND WOLF ..... 101

CHAPTER VIII.
SHORE AND OTHER BIRDS 119

CHAPTER IX.
THE BIGHORN 127

CHAPTER X.
THE HOME OF THE MOUNTAIN LION ..... 135

vii



. Contents

PACK

CHAPTER XL

i53
THE VALLEY QUAIL .

CHAPTER XII.

165
THE HEART OF THE DESERT

CHAPTER XIII.

179
EL CAMINO REAL

CHAPTER XIV.

209
LIFE IN THE SIERRA MADRE

CHAPTER XV.
THE WILD GOAT ON ORIZABA .

CHAPTER XVI.

2T.Z

THE RISE OF DON ANTONIO

CHAPTER XVII.

2CQ

THE ROYAL CATCH

CHAPTER XVIII.
SANTA CATALINA ISLAND * 73

CHAPTER XIX.
THE SEA LION'S DEN . 2 7

CHAPTER XX.
TROLLING IN DEEP WATER . ....

CHAPTER XXL
THE CALIFORNIA WEAKFISH 37



Contents

CHAPTER XXII.



CHAPTER XXV.
THE TRIBE OF SERIOLA



IX

PAGB



A WINDOW OF THE SEA f ^j-

CHAPTER XXIII.

CRUISING AMONG THE CHANNEL ISLANDS . . . 327

CHAPTER XXIV.
THE STILL ANGLER ~



349



CHAPTER XXVI.

THE CLIMATE 359

APPENDIX 381

GAME LAWS 33*

INDEX ,07



Illustrations



CHARLES F. HOLDER AND THE VALLEY HUNT HOUNDS.

Frontispiece
WINTER BLOSSOM OF THE EUCALYPTUS ... i

RUINS OF THE CHAPEL MISSION OF SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO,

ON EL CAMINO REAL 4

A SUDDEN TURN, OBSERVED BY THE AUTHOR ... 8

CHARLES WINSTON'S SUNNY SLOPE HOUNDS ... 12

Photo by Crandall

WALK AT THE MISSION OF SANTA BARBARA ON EL CAMINO

REAL I4

THE TREED LYNX xy

LYNX HUNTING, CANADA SANTIAGO, NEAR ORANGE . . 22
TREED LYNX. SANTIAGO CLUB, NEAR FULLERTON . . 24

THE BELLS OF MISSION SAN GABRIEL ARCANGEL, NEAR

PASADENA 28

VALLEY HUNT Fox HOUNDS PASADENA .... 30

Photo by Crandall

THE TRAIL OF THE LYNX HUNTERS, NEAR EL TORO . . 34

Photo by Graham

CALIFORNIA HOLLY, ADENOSTOMA 37

HE VISITS RANCH GARDENS EARLY IN THE MORNING . . 42



xii Illustrations

PAG*

DEER m THE OPEN ... 4 6

BRINGING IN THE DUCKS AT BALSA CHICA . . 49

MISSION OF SAN JUAN CAPISTRANO ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY 54

A GOOD DAY FOR CANVAS-BACKS AT BALSA CHICA . 58

AN HOUR'S GOOSE SHOOTING ..... 60

THE TREED Fox 63

WINTER LIFE IN THE OPEN NEAR PASADENA ... 70

Photo by Graham

FOX-HUNTING COUNTRY NEAR ORANGE, SANTIAGO MTS. 74

Photo by Graham

RAINBOW TROUT BEAR VALLEY LAKE .... 79

THE STAIRS OF THE MISSION OF SAN GABRIEL ARCANGEL,

NEAR PASADENA ON THE KING'S HIGHWAY ... 84

Photo by H. A. Parker

DOCTOR PAGE CASTING IN THE UPPER BIG POOL, DEEP

CREEK, SAN BERNARDINO RANGE 88

WINTER IN THE SIERRA MADRE NEAR SAN DIEGO . . 92

THE NORTH FORK OF THE SAN JACINTO RIVER, SAN JACINTO

MOUNTAINS . . . ... . . . 98

THE SANTIAGO HUNT 101

IN AT THE DEATH, SANTIAGO HUNT NEAR ORANGE . . 108

SAN Luis OBISPO DE TOLOSA ON EL CAMINO REAL (KING'S

HIGHWAY) i I2

Photo by Putnam & Valentine

SANTIAGO HUNT BREAKFAST NEAR SANTA ANA . . .116

THE WAVES AT CORONADO 119

GULLS AT AVALON BAY . 122



Illustrations xiii

PAGE

CASTLE ROCK, SANTA BARBARA 124

MOUNT SAN ANTONIO FROM REDLANDS . . . .127
MOUNT SAN JACINTO 135

GARDEN OF THE MISSION OF SANTA BARBARA IN EL CAMINO

REAL .......... 140

Photo by H. A. Parker

HAUNTS OF THE MOUNTAIN LION, AND GRIZZLY PEAK . 144
PASADENA IN WINTER. FLOWERS AND SNOW . . . 153

HAUNTS OF THE VALLEY QUAIL NEAR PASADENA COUNTRY

CLUB 158

Photo by Graham

DECANSOBAY A WHITE SEA-BASS CORNER, SANTA CATALINA 160

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

A CACTUS GARDEN 165

A DESERT FOREST. NATIVE PALMS NEAR PALM SPRINGS,

CALIFORNIA . . . . . . . .170

Photo by Putnam & Valentine

CANDLE CACTUS. LOWER CALIFORNIA AND ARIZONA . 174

Photo by Putnam & Valentine

MISSION OF SANTA BARBARA 179

PAMPAS GRASS, SAN DIEGO, ON EL CAMINO REAL . . 186

Photo by 1 1. A. Clarke

PALMS OF THE MISSION OF SAN FERNANDO REY ON THE

KING'S HIGHWAY 190

Photo by C. C. Pierce

AN AVENUE OF PALMS, Los ANGELES 194

MISSION OF SAN DIEGO DE ALCALA AND DATE PALMS ON

EL CAMINO REAL ........ 198

Photo by C. C. Pierce

MISSION OF SAN Luis REY DE FRANCIA ON THE OLD KING'S

HIGHWAY . . . 202

RUINS OF THE MISSION OF SAN ANTONIO DE PALA 206



Illustrations



PACK



ORANGE TREK ... 209

MISSION OF SAN BUENAVENTURA ON EL CAMINO REAL . 212

1 noto {*>* v_. i icrcc

ELEPHANT HEADS AND CAVES OF LA JOLLA NEAR SAN DIEGO 2 1 4

SANTA ANITA RANCH, ARCADIA, SAN GABRIEL VALLEY 218

Photo by Putnam & Valentine

CLUSTER LILY, BRODMSA . . . .223

WILD GOAT SHOOTING FROM A BOAT, SANTA CATALINA . 228

A BLACK SEA-BASS TOURNAMENTS . 235

CATCH OF A BLACK SEA-BASS WITH ROD AND REEL . . 240

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

LA PURISSIMA CONCEPCION MISSION ON THE KlNG's HIGHWAY 248

MISSION OF SAN MIGUEL ON EL CAMINO REAL (KING'S HIGH-

WAY) ..... ..... 254

A MORNING CATCH BY THE AUTHOR ..... 259

LANDING THE LEAPING TUNA ...... 268

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

LETTING THEM OUT ........ 273

SIX-IN-HAND SWINGING AROUND THE LOOP . . . 278

BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF THE COACH ROAD .... 284

SEA-LION ROOKERY ........ 287

SEA-LION ROOKERY AT SANTA CATALINA ISLAND . . 294

TYPICAL FISHING BOAT AND YELLOW-FIN ALBACORE . . 299

CATCH OF BLACK SEA-BASS AND ALBACORE AT SANTA

CATALINA BY A WAITING MEMBER OF THE ANANIAS CLUB 302

THE OCEANIC BONITO ....... 304

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

MR. HARDING'S RECORD WHITE SEA-BASS .... 307



Illustrations xv



FACE



MOUNT SAN ANTONIO (10,120 FEET), HOME OF MOUNTAIN

SHEEP .......... 312

THE GLASS-BOTTOM BOATS OF AVALON .... 315

BLACK AND WHITE SEA-URCHINS ..... 318

Photo by P. Reise
IN THE HANGING GARDENS ....... 322

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

THE GLASS-BOTTOM BOAT, SANTA CATALINA ISLAND . . 324



AVALON



327



THE BAY AND VALE OF AVALON ..... 332

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

FERN CANON, SANTA CRUZ ISLAND ..... 336

Photo by P. Reise

THE VALE OF AVALON. PICTURESQUE GOLF LINKS AT SANTA

CATALINA. ........ 338

GAFFING AT SHEEPS' HEAD, SANTA CATALINA ISLAND . 341

BEACH FISHING FOR LEAPING SHARKS, CATALINA HARBOUR 344

Photo by Chas. Ironmonger

A 3oo-FooT WAVE AT SAN PEDRO ..... 346

Photo by Graham

A MORNING'S ROD CATCH OF YELLOW-TAIL . . . 349

TAKING THE YELLOW-TAIL . ...... 352

A GOOD CORNER FOR YELLOW-TAIL ..... 356

THE GOLD OF OPHIR ROSE ....... 359

WINTER FLOWERS AT ALTADENA, SAN GABRIEL VALLEY . 362

Photo by H. A. Parker

WINTER VERDURE IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA . . . 366

Photo by H. A. Parker

A REDLANDS ORANGE GROVE AND HOME IN WINTER . . 368

PASADENA'S VARIED CLIMATES ...... 374

PASADENA'S VARIED CLIMATES (Continued) .... 378



Across

- 1 "*




hounds




Chapter I

Across Country with Greyhounds

THE first rain had come. The mountains were
smiling at the distant sea, the air was clear
as crystal, and had a rich vibrant quality. The
long, feathery lines of white clouds which marked the
time of rain had disappeared. No more the dust spout
sailed swaggering down along the Puente Hills ; instead,
processions of geese and cranes flew along the high
Sierras, headed to the south. The grey hills were
melting into other and deeper tints, and the seeds of
alfileria, that had formed a grey mat almost everywhere,
were twisting, boring into the ground, and painting the
hills, lowlands, and mesa in emerald hues. There was a
crispness to the air; every tree and bush was washed
clean ; the groves of the tall plume-like eucalyptus seemed
nearer and greener, and along the highways vivid pink
mattings were growing, telling that a marvellous change
was imminent. In a word, it was near Christmas time
in Southern California, and uncompromising winter,
with its roses, its fields of wild flowers, was setting in.

3



4 Life in the Open

In the valley, one could hear the clang of bells of the
Mission of San Gabriel as they rang out, three miles
away, and beyond El Toro, over the divide Don Benito,
listen to the chimes of San Juan Capistrano as they
chanted to the sea.

On such a morning I came down on to the mesa
from Las Cacitas, a spur of the Sierra Madre, where I
was living, rode through the deep carton, whose oaks and
bays were dripping with dazzling radiance, and as I came
out on to the mesa, from which I could see the islands
offshore, fifty miles distant, I heard the tremulous melody
of a horn. It came from the direction of Los Robles,
and as I rode on through the brush, my horse tossing
the odours of sage and other fragrant plants into the
air, out from the long lines of eucalyptus trees came the
hunt, the horses with their Spanish saddles and fascin-
ating montadiira, and in a blue and tan bunch the dogs,
greyhounds of high degree, that had left San Marino an
hour or more before.

The country was open for miles near the Sierra
Madre, which rose abruptly from the mesa, the land
sandy below Las Cacitas, and covered with sage and
low chaparral ; here an eucalyptus grove, a young olive
orchard, and a vineyard, but in the main, open country,
so that one could see several miles in almost every
direction. This was the home of the jack rabbit or
hare, said to be the fastest runner and to possess better
staying powers than any animal known, a tree girdler, an
enemy of the rancher. Sure of his powers, he lived in




Ruins of the Chapel, Mission of San Juan Capistrano, on El Camino Real.



Across Country with Greyhounds 5

the open, affecting the most barren places. A bit of
tar weed or sage was enough for him, and even when
chased he despised cover and always turned to the
grim mountains and ran up grade, doubtless to wind
the horse.

There were twenty or more hunters, all well mounted
on wiry fast-running horses, the master of the hounds
in the lead behind the dogs. There were greetings,
mutual congratulations that you were alive in God's
country on such a day, and some men took off their
sombreros at the splendid tints and colours of the
mountains that, a wall of rock, five or six thousand feet
high and forty miles wide, shut out the land and valley
from the rest of the world.

The hunt moved slowly along the eucalyptus groves,
then at the word turned in, each horse taking a line
or avenue, the dogs spreading out. Down the long,
leafy parterres you could see blue vistas of sky, catch
glimpses of distant mountains, while the air was filled
with the aroma of the eucalyptus as the horses' hoofs
cut the underbrush.

The plan was to sweep through the grove and drive
out any jack that might be lying there. When half-
way through, a quick cry from the master of hounds
gave the word to the dogs, that dashed ahead, out into
the open, twenty yards or so behind a jaunty, fluffy,
tall-eared thing that bounded on as though its feet bore
rubber cushions, while with a roar of sounds the hunt
swept on in a long line at full and splendid speed.



6 Life in the Open

There is nothing more inspiring than a cavalry
charge, and this hunt was a diminutive replica of one.
The horses were eager for the chase, knowing well the
meaning of the shout, and at once broke into a wild
run ; and when they cleared the grove the dogs could
be seen reaching out in long lines and the bounding
jack melting away into space. At this stage of the run
he is enjoying himself at our expense. His long ears
are up, and as stiff as rods of steel. He runs by bounds
and has an air of disdain. The speed is increasing every
moment. The master of the hounds by virtue of his
office is directly behind them, and after him, never
overriding the pack, come the fortunate ones who can
keep their place. Already some are left far behind,
but a few horses are well to the fore and running at
a pace, that considering the country, would bring a
cheer from the grandstand at Ascot. The jack runs
through a patch of sage-brush, then turns slightly and
crosses an orchard, and here is turned cleverly by old
Ramon. He runs over a great white wash, bounding
down its dangerous sides until it ends, then alarmed by
the determined thunder of bounding hoofs, he turns
gradually and makes for the upper mesa. Suddenly
the master of the hounds shouts a warning. Some turn
at the brink of a knife-like cut or wash, ten feet deep,
over which the jack goes like a cannon ball. You see
that he is taking in sails, is not so disdainful ; his ears
are lying partly back over his shoulders, and the won-
derful hind legs are working quicker and driving him



Across Country with Greyhounds 7

ahead like piston rods. The dogs have lost some time
at the turn, and he is two or three hundred feet ahead.
Half the horses are out of the game, the wash is a dis-
courager, and two philosophers are walking back, tak-
ing the chance of being in at the death in a double ; but
a small bunch of riders are well in, and riding like the
wind. Long ago it was a runaway race ; no attempt is
made to stop or check the horses ; it is their race, and
some will not be stopped. The wind cuts the face, and
gravel fills the air, picked up by the flying hoofs ; while
the long lines of blue and grey are creeping up, and on,
in a mysterious fashion. Perhaps you are with the
master of the hounds in the lead where you can see
every move of horse, hound, and game. You watch
the marvellous machine just ahead ; the dogs shooting
forward, then dropping behind. You hear the master
of the hounds speak to them ; now quickly as the jack
runs into the brush, where they lose sight of the game
and are at sea. You see them look at him and spring
in the air in great steely bounds, glancing quickly around,
then, following the direction indicated by his horse, rush-
ing out into the open. The hare is running down a
vineyard, doubtless hoping to throw some unfortunate
riders on to the black ugly stumps, just leafing out.

But the horses know the place well, and just at the
end the dogs close in and turn again, forcing the hare
down through the level field. You see him now, not
fifty feet ahead ; not the jocund tree girdler that bounded
out of the eucalyptus grove half an hour before, but



8 Life in the Open

a long grey object with ears flattened out upon his back
a sure signal of distress and a certain halting motion
that those well in the front take as an indication of
a coming trick, a " grandstand play " for which the game
is famous, and here it is.

The jack apparently disappears ; horses are jerked
on to their haunches, a cloud of dust rises, dogs reach
out and snap at something as it passes, phantom-like,
and you and I and the master of the hounds are away
on exactly the back track, and the jack has gained one
hundred feet. If you have been at the front you will
know what it all means. The jack stopped suddenly
turned about a clump of sage in the open, and dashed
back directly beneath the horses' feet. Mouse, my own
hound, misses him by the length of a tail, and other
hounds snap at him as he goes by, unable to stop
themselves, while the clever hare, taking all the chances,
dashes beneath the horses, and makes a splendid play for
liberty. This turn is shown in the accompanying pic-
ture * by Brewer, from a sketch of my own made from
memory as I saw the manoeuvre, the jack running
directly between the feet of my horse, which should
be shown nearer in the illustration. It is here that the
hunter who has given out and is looking on from some
comfortable vantage-ground, often comes into his own
without the attendant exertions, as the jack comes back,
and possibly is killed in front of him.

In five minutes the horses and riders that have stood

1 Page .






A Sudden Turn observed by the Author.



Across Country with Greyhounds 9

the pace are again surging to the front. The horses
are wild with excitement ; it is their hunt and they
know the finish is near. Several miles have been left
behind, and the run has been over unbroken country.
Now a blue dog seems to shoot ahead of the jack. He
has been behind all the time, and you have half expected
to see him drop out ; but Pasqual has come into his
second wind and makes a turn that brings a shout from
every saddle. " Good Pasqual ! " " Bravo, Ramon ! "
He turns the hare that is met by Mouse ; but she
misses. There is a flurry, and away down the mesa
into a spreading wash they go, over into an orange
grove, with a roar of sounds, and the jack in a desper-
ate effort to wind the horses takes the long palm-envi-
roned drive toward a ranch house, and like a whirlwind
the horses and dogs follow.

The ranch house is straight ahead, and my friend
has a long wide hall running through it, for which the
jack apparently is headed. I am wondering whether
will object to the hunt running through his home, when
out he comes with arms uplifted. He does object, there
is no question as to that, but it is the finish. A long,
tan-coloured hound shoots ahead, a fluffy hare goes up
into the air, and the hounds close around, while one of
the hunters in a desperate attempt to stop his horse and
keep him from a flower garden goes on, and tell it not
in Gath lands on his back among the pansies.

It is a famous run. The death or finish was three
miles from the start as the crow flies. The dogs are lying



10 Life in the Open

flat, panting like machines, but happy, delighted, and
rolling a glance of congratulation at you, or giving you
greeting by a wag of the tail. If they could speak they
would all say it was the run of their lives. Along comes
the man with a canteen, each dog drinks and its face
and mouth are washed, and each master and mistress
tells each hound just what he or she thinks, and compli-
ments between man and beast fly thick and fast. The sad-
dles are uncinched, the horses walked up and down and
given a drink when cooler. The stragglers have come in,
and the hunt, refreshed, stands in the cooling shade of
the eucalyptus grove, and discusses the situation.

Such was a typical run with the San Marino or
the Valley Hunt hounds of Pasadena ; hard, furious,
dangerous sport, the hare having an open country and
by far the advantage. To ride over such a region with
its washes and burrows, the rider took every chance, and
the game often escaped ; wearing out horse, rider, and
hound. There can hardly be any pastime within the
realm of sport more exciting than this. It was my for-
tune to act as master of the hounds in many hunts, and
my place was directly behind the dogs, where every move
of hound or game could be seen ; and as a study of
strenuous sport it was without peer ; horses and dogs
enjoyed it, the jack being the only exception, and he
was a pest and menace to the rancher.

The hunt, refreshed, winds out of the grove and
turns in the direction of the mountains, following along
the slopes. It is midwinter in the East, the whole land



Across Country with Greyhounds n

is in the grip of ice and snow ; but here the air is soft
on the cheek, the carol of countless birds fills the air,
and drowsy butterflies, yellow and white, are flitting
about the fields harbingers of spring. On one side
the wall of the Sierras stands menacing and grim, cut by
many canons, rich in deep greens, that like rivers wind
skyward. Near at hand the mountains are grey and
green in patches ; but as they reach away toward San
Antonio they become blue painted with ineffable tints.
Ahead the San Rafael Hills rise in velvet mounds, with
radiant lights and shades, telling of rippling oats and
barley ; like great billows they are tumbling on and on
to the distant lowlands. To the south but turn the eye,
and the green slope of the Sierras is seen reaching the
distant sea ; a fantasie in colour ; squares of green and
yellow, blocks of vivid green, mounds of undulating
emerald, and beyond the line of silver surf and the blue


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