the Baby, he fired it into their midst
and it bursted above. They darted away toward the Sierras and he was
annoyed by them no more.

There was one companion he could not get rid of, however, that was the
snow clad peak of Mt. Shasta. It appeared ever present and always at the
same distance. He would think he had left it in the rear, when at the
next bend of the river, it again loomed up in front of him. He saw it at
sunrise and at sunset for days, gloriously colored as the variations of
light bathed its towering sides.

At Grimes' Landing, a Sunday school picnic was encountered. Arches and
banks of flowers, made bright a beautiful grove. On one arch were the
words, "Baby Mine," spelled out in roses. Boyton had not intended to
stop, but could not resist getting out and shaking hands with the
little ones. That night he stopped at a wood cutter's camp.

Next evening he was met by a gentleman in a boat with a servant, who
extended a most cordial invitation to spend the night. They repaired to
an elegant residence on the river bank and the gentleman proved to be
the Hon. John Boggs, proprietor of one of the great ranches which
make California famous. He was profuse in his hospitality, sending
messages by his private wire to Sacramento and San Francisco. His ranch
consists of eleven thousand acres, requiring hundreds of men to work it;
herds of cattle and droves of sheep, numbering into the tens of
thousands, graze on the ranges. Ocean vessels are docked at his
warehouses and loaded for foreign ports. Boyton always remembers the
night spent at that California ranch as one of the most pleasant of
his life.

Next day Colusa was reached and for some distance below, people were
numerous on the banks, school children sometimes running along a mile
or more. At one place a tall, raw boned woman, who looked as though she
possessed a mind of her own, gathered up her skirts and trotted along
the bank for same time, talking to Boyton. She wanted to know if he
lectured.

"No; I am taking notes so as to write a book," replied Paul.

"Well, you're just the fellow I'm looking for. I want you to take notes
about the slickens that are filling up this river and go for the
miners, good and strong, who make them." With that she dropped her
skirts and pointing her index finger impressively at Paul, concluded:
"Now don't forget that, young fellow," and turned to retrace her steps.

The slickens spoken of by the