rrigation dwelt on. I
doubt not the said publications have, and will, attract (I am one
instance), but as few will be satisfied after arrival, the real truth
will eventually be known, and therefore, I think, the great tide of
emigrants looked for will fail.

Though California, as I have said, is not well suited for raising
cattle, I was surprised to find at San Francisco that cattle ranches
existed, and several were advertised for sale. I determined to go and
see one. It was situated down south, possibly two hundred miles from
the capital, and not far from the Pacific coast. I took one of my
sons with me. We went down in a coasting-steamer, stopping at
different places _en route_. The coast was the same in character all
the way down, patches of cultivation here and there where irrigated,
but otherwise brown-baked earth, be it hill or plain, with nothing on
it. I have never seen a less inviting coast. We landed at some of the
places we called at, and inspected the country as far as we could in
the given short time. The towns were clean and nice, and some houses
had gardens attached, but outside the town limits always the same
dry-baked earth and no vegetation or trees. The heat, which more or
less prevails in inner California, is tempered by the Pacific on the
coast. "Charming climate, woful country," my son exclaimed, and I
quite agreed with him.

Some twenty hours on board brought us to our destination, the port of
San Obespo, and a short railway took us up to the town, where we
hired two saddle-horses on which to go out and see the ranch. English
saddles, the Americans call them pancake saddles, are quite the
exceptions in mid-America and out west. Nothing but Mexican saddles
are used. I have ridden on many kinds in different countries, but for
keen discomfort the Mexican, in my opinion, beats them all. There is
a peak in front, about a foot higher than the saddle-seat, which is
capped by a wooden pin with a large wooden button on the top. The
object of this is to twist the lasso round when, after a successful
hunt behind cattle, wild or tame, the struggling beast is at the
other end. But however useful it may be, it is not a pleasant
appendage to a saddle, and must give cruel wounds to the rider if he
is thrown forward. There is also a cantle behind, higher than any
saddle cantle I have seen, and between these two the seat of the
saddle slopes down before and behind, forming an obtuse angle
between the slopes, whi