was my happy privilege to spend five-sevenths of
a week of August, and the rare privilege of being obliged to do nothing
was a great delight. Early rising was permissible, but not encouraged.
At eight o'clock a rich Hibernian voice was heard to say, "Hot water,
Mr. Murdock," and it was so. A simple breakfast, meatless, but including
the best of coffee and apricots, tree-ripened and fresh, was enjoyed at
leisure undisturbed by thought of awaiting labor. Following the pleasant
breakfast chat was a forenoon of converse with my friend or a friendly
book or magazine, broken by a stroll through some part of the wood and
introduction to the hospitably entertained trees from distant parts. My
friend is something of a botanist, and was able to pronounce the court
names of all his visitors. Wild flowers still persist, and among others
was pointed out one which was unknown to the world till he chanced to
find it.

[Illustration: OUTINGS IN THE SIERRAS, 1910 IN HAWAII, 1914]

Very interesting is the fact that the flora of the region, which is a
thousand feet above sea-level, has many of the characteristics of beach
vicinity, and the reason is disclosed by the outcropping at various
points of a deposit of white sand, very fine, and showing under the
microscope the smoothly rounded form that tells of the rolling waves.
This deposit is said to be traceable for two hundred miles easterly, and
where it has been eroded by the streams of today enormous trees have
grown on the deposited soil. The mind is lost in conjecture of the time
that must have elapsed since an ancient sea wore to infinitesimal bits
the quartz that some rushing stream had brought from its native
mountains.

Another interesting feature of the landscape was the clearly marked
course of the old "Indian trail," known to the earliest settlers, which
followed through this region from the coast at Santa Cruz to the Santa
Clara Valley. It followed the most accessible ridges and showed
elemental surveying of a high order. Along its line are still found bits
of rusted iron, with specks of silver, relics of the spurs and bridles
of the caballeros of the early days.

The maples that sheltered the house are thinned out, that the sun may
not be excluded, and until its glare becomes too radiant the
steamer-chair or the rocker seeks the open that the genial page of
"Susan's Escort, and Others," one of the inimitable books of Edward
Everett Hale, may be enjoyed in comfort. When m