as a big sack
of hard bread, we gave the animals a ration apiece of the same,
promising them something better as soon as it could be had. This was our
first night in California, having heretofore been travelling, since
leaving the Missouri River Valley, in the Territory of Nebraska, except
as we passed through a little corner of Oregon, near Ft. Hall.

After an early breakfast, we left the region of snow and went down among
the timber and into a milder atmosphere. We passed through a place
called Tragedy Springs, whose history, we afterwards learned, was
indicated by its name. Leek Springs was the name of our next stopping
place, which, from its appearance, evidently a favorite resort of all
who passed that way. It so happened, however, that we were the only
parties camping there that night. Realizing that we were very near our
journey's end, we made these last evenings together as pleasant and as
restful as possible. I remember this evening in particular, also the
following morning, when, upon bestirring ourselves, we found that our
sack of hard bread had been eaten and the sack torn to pieces. The
frying pan had been licked clean, and things generally disturbed. Upon
investigation we soon found that the camp had been invaded by two
grizzly bears. They had walked all around us while we slept, evidently
smelling of each one, as was indicated by the large, plain tracks which
they had left, not only in the camp, but across the road also as they
took their departure.

During the day we had opportunity to buy some hay for our stock, and at
night we made ourselves at home among the heaviest white pine timber I
ever saw. To test the size of the trees, we selected one that was
representative of more than half the trees in that vicinity, and four of
us joined hands and tried to circle the tree, but could not. They were
so large and so near together that it seemed as though more than
one-half of the ground and air was taken up by them. They had only a few
stub branches for a top. Their bodies were as straight and as smooth as
a ship's mast, and so tall that in looking at them one usually had to
throw one's head back twice before seeing their tops.

The western slope of the Sierras was much more gradual in its descent
than on the eastern side, the former reaching from the summit to the
Valley of the Sacramento, about one hundred miles, while the ascent on
the eastern side, from the leaving of Carson Valley, is about
twenty-fou