in-mutton, flavorous as the Welsh, was not
lacking in its turn; but the great stand-by of our table was venison,
roast, broiled, made into pasties, treated with every variety of
preparation save an oil-soak in the pagan frying-pan of the country. As
for chickens and eggs, it "snewe in Sisson's house" of that sort of
"mete and drinke,"--he was Chaucer's Franklin transported to Shasta.
Cream flowed in upon us like a river; potatoes were stewed in it; it was
the base of chicken-sauce; the sirupy baked pears, whose secret Mrs.
Sisson had inherited from some dim religious ancestor in the New-England
past, were drowned in it; and we took a glass of it with magical shiny
rusk for nine-o'clock supper, just to oil our joints before we relaxed
them in innocent repose. Our rooms were ample, our beds luxurious, our
surroundings the grandest within Nature's bestowal. Our capital host and
hostess became our personal friends; and all that they did for us was so
heartily kind and so cheerily comfortable, that, if we were asked where,
on the whole, we passed the pleasantest, as distinct from the grandest,
week in California, I think we should answer, "At Sisson's, in
Strawberry Valley."

Sisson was, without exception, the best rifle-shot I ever saw. I have
seen him bring down a hawk soaring as high as I could see it. Before a
target, at any distance usual for such experiments, his aim was
practically unerring. He possessed, in addition, two other prime
qualities of a first-class woodsman,--keen sight for game in covert, and
soft-footedness in stealing on it,--to a degree so unequalled in my
acquaintance that I feel justified in calling him, not only the best
shot, but the best hunter I ever knew. We spent three days in exploring,
sketching, and deer-stalking with him, during all which time he was
never once taken by surprise, but invariably saw his game before it
scented him, and as invariably cracked it over before ourselves, or
another old huntsman with us, had time to say, "Where is it?" Our main
excursion led us about a dozen miles from the house to a lofty ridge,
populous with game, thickly wooded with evergreens, and on its bold
prominences giving us splendid views of Shasta. No height that we could
attain dwarfed the grandeur of the mountain by sinking its base, and no
lateral variation of our standing-points produced any change in its
shape. New delicacies of rock and snow network came out as we shifted,
and the sunlight produce