een "snowed in"
for weeks. It was nearly night when we reached Clark's, and we were in
just the condition to appreciate the big fireplace of the sitting-room
piled with unsawed cordwood, by which we dried our dripping clothes and
rehearsed our experiences.

It not only rained that night, but it poured so that on the following
morning, when we started for the Mariposa Grove of Big Trees, twelve
miles off our regular route, the query arose whether a boat or a wheeled
vehicle was the best conveyance for the purpose. We will not attempt to
give a detailed account of what has been so often and so well described.
Suffice it to say we visited the locality famous for its forest
monarchs, in a quiet glade, thousands of feet up the slopes of the
Sierra, and viewed those marvels with none the less interest because we
were already familiar with their actual measurement. Our entire team,
stage, driver, passengers, and horses, passed through the upright hollow
trunk of one of the mammoth trees, which, though sufficiently decayed to
admit of this, was still possessed of such vitality as to cause it to
bear leaves to the topmost branches, three hundred feet above the
ground. Our attention was called to the curious fact, that although
these are the largest known trees in the world, yet their cones are no
bigger than walnuts, and their seeds hardly a quarter of an inch in
length. There are trees lying upon the ground in the immediate
neighborhood, thrown down by tempests, which are believed to have been
growing on the spot long before Christ first came upon earth, and others
which are satisfactorily proven to have had thirteen hundred years'
growth, by their clearly defined annual rings. How immense must have
been the power required to uproot the huge trunks that lie here and
there, like prostrate giants fallen in a confused fight. There are
others, white with age, and bearing no leaves, but which still firmly
retain their upright position, with outstretched skeleton arms defying
the tempest.

We embarked on board the steamship Belgic, of the Occidental and
Oriental line, from San Francisco, October 10, in a heavy rain storm,
amid the usual bustle and commotion attendant upon the departure of a
large passenger ship for a long voyage. Everything looked very cold,
very dreary, and very damp, causing our spirits to partake of the same
nature, when we realized that for three weeks or more this was to be our
floating home. With space so cir