s rose above the green level
of the island opposite. It told us we were still but a little way from
the city of the Golden Gates, already, at that hour, beginning to awake
among the sand-hills. It called to us over the waters as with the voice
of a bird. Its stately head, blue as a sapphire on the paler azure of
the sky, spoke to us of wider outlooks and the bright Pacific. For
Tamalpais stands sentry, like a lighthouse, over the Golden Gates,
between the bay and the open ocean, and looks down indifferently on
both. Even as we saw and hailed it from Vallejo, seamen, far out at sea,
were scanning it with shaded eyes; and, as if to answer to the thought,
one of the great ships below began silently to clothe herself with white
sails, homeward bound for England.

For some way beyond Vallejo the railway led us through bald green
pastures. On the west the rough highlands of Marin shut off the ocean;
in the midst, in long, straggling, gleaming arms, the bay died out among
the grass; there were few trees and few enclosures; the sun shone wide
over open uplands, the dis-plumed hills stood clear against the sky. But
by-and-by these hills began to draw nearer on either hand, and first
thicket and then wood began to clothe their sides; and soon we were away
from all signs of the sea's neighbourhood, mounting an inland, irrigated
valley. A great variety of oaks stood, now severally, now in a becoming
grove, among the fields and vineyards. The towns were compact, in about
equal proportions, of bright new wooden houses and great and growing
forest trees; and the chapel bell on the engine sounded most festally
that sunny Sunday, as we drew up at one green town after another, with
the townsfolk trooping in their Sunday's best to see the strangers, with
the sun sparkling on the clean houses, and great domes of foliage
humming overhead in the breeze.

This pleasant Napa Valley is, at its north end, blockaded by our
mountain. There, at Calistoga, the railroad ceases, and the traveller
who intends faring farther, to the Geysers or to the springs in Lake
County, must cross the spurs of the mountain by stage. Thus Mount Saint
Helena is not only a summit, but a frontier; and up to the time of
writing it has stayed the progress of the iron horse.

IN THE VALLEY

I

CALISTOGA

It is difficult for a European to imagine Calistoga,