, and saw, about a hundred yards off, a
boiling caldron. This was our grand tea-kettle. Upon a nearer
inspection, I found that it consisted of two great holes in the rocks,
close together, the larger of which was about thirty feet in
circumference, and of great depth. The water was as clear as crystal.
It was easy to trace the white stratum of rocks, of which the sides
were formed, down to the neck of the great shaft through which the
water was ejected. Flakes of steam floated off from the surface of the
crystal pool, which was generally placid. Only at occasional intervals
did it show any symptoms of internal commotion. By dipping my finger
down a little way I found that it was boiling hot. Five minutes
immersion would be sufficient to skin and boil an entire man.

Nature has bountifully put these boilers here for the use of
travelers. Not a stick or twig of wood grows within a circuit of many
miles, and without fuel of course it would be impossible to cook
food. Here a leg of mutton submerged in a pot can be beautifully
boiled; plum-puddings cooked; eggs, fish, or any thing you please,
done to a nicety. All this I knew before, but I had no idea that the
water was pure enough for drinking purposes. Such, however, is the
fact. No better water ever came out of the earth--in a boiled
condition. To make a pot of tea, you simply put your tea in your pot,
hold on to the handle, dip the whole concern down into the water, keep
it there a while to draw, and your tea is made.

I found it excellent, and did not, as I apprehended, discover any
unpleasant flavor in the water. It may be slightly impregnated with
sulphur, though that gives it rather a wholesome smack. To me,
however, it tasted very much like any other hot water.

[Illustration: SIDE-SADDLE.]

When I returned to the tent, and sat down to my frugal repast, and ate
my bread and cheese, and quaffed the fragrant tea, Zoega sitting near
by respectfully assisting me, something of the old California feeling
came over me, and I enjoyed life once more after years of travel
through the deserts of civilization in Europe. What a glorious thing
it is to be a natural barbarian! This was luxury! this was joy! this
was Paradise upon earth! Ah me! where is the country that can equal
California? Brightest of the bright lands of sunshine; richest,
rarest, loveliest of earth's beauties! like Phaedra to the mistress of
his soul, I love you by day and by night, behave in the company