dly
carry their sacks of gold-dust, which made hard white ridges in their
hands. They had fifteen thousand dollars or more apiece. I thought, how
unequally and unwisely Fate distributes her gifts; but then, as Mrs. S.
said when there was such a rush for the garments brought on board the
steamer for us at Panama, after our shipwreck, "Let those have them who
can least gracefully support the want of them."

Among the miners of the upper country, who had not seen a white woman
for a year, I received such honors, that I am afraid I should have had a
very mistaken impression of my importance if I had lived long among
them. At every stopping-place they made little fires in their
frying-pans, and set them around me, to keep off the mosquitoes, while I
took my meal. As the columns of smoke rose about me, I felt like a
heathen goddess, to whom incense was being offered. The mosquitoes were
terrible; but we found our compensation for them in the journey
homeward. I remember the entomology used to call the dragon-fly the
"mosquito-hawk;" and such dragon-flies I never before saw as we met with
near the rivers, especially at the Pelouse. There seemed to be a
festival of them there, and one kind of such a green as I believe never
was seen before on earth,--so exquisite a shade, and so vivid. There
were also burnished silver and gold ones, and every beautiful variety of
spotting and marking. A little Indian boy appeared there, dressed in
feathers, with a hawk on his wrist,--a wild, spirited-looking little
creature.

On Sunday we reached Olympia, and saw the waters of the Sound, and the
old headlands again. I had no idea it could look so homelike; and when
the mountain range began to reveal itself from the mist, I felt as if
nothing we had seen while we were gone had been more beautiful, more
really impressive, than what we could look at any day from our own
kitchen-door.

As we approached Seattle, we began to gather up the news. It is very
much more of an event to get back, when you have had no newspapers, and
only the rarest communication of any kind, while you have been gone.

Seattle, the old chief, had died. When he was near his end, he sent word
over to the nearest settlement, that he wished Capt. Meigs, the owner of
the great sawmill at Port Madison, to come when he was dead, and take
him by the hand, and bid him farewell.

We learned that the beautiful Port Angeles was to be
abandoned,--Congress having decided to remove t