people more lavish in the
expenditure of money, seeming to value it only for the good it dispensed.

Leaving Colusa, elated with the success we had met, we journeyed to
Marysville in a very happy state of mind that was doomed to undergo a
severe reverse on our arrival. When we started there were three hundred
dollars in "hard money" in my trunk, and when we arrived in Marysville my
heart sank within me and I could feel the blood leave the surface and my
face grow deadly cold when I learned that my trunk, which we had seen
stowed in the "boot" of the stage on starting, was not there on our
arrival. After a few moments, in which I considered what should be done, I
went to the stage agent, who telegraphed back to Colusa, and, after an
hour of deep and painful suspense, the answer came back that the trunk was
safe. By some singular omission the straps of the boot had not all been
buckled and my trunk had fallen out. It was picked up by some honest
farmer, who, believing that it belonged to a passenger in the stage, had
sent it to the office. The next morning it came to me, and I was amply
compensated for the delay in the kindness of the agent, who not only
expressed great regret for the mishap, but voluntarily defrayed all extra
expense incurred.

We next visited Chico, at that time the terminus of the Central Pacific
Railway, where I hoped to meet Elder Hobart, the friend I had so loved in
my childhood. After some search I found his daughter, from whom I was
pained to learn that he had closed his earthly pilgrimage but a short time
before. My pain was not for him who rested from such faithful labors, but
for those bereft. The daughter, although married, forgot not the friend of
early days; and I accepted with alacrity her invitation to visit her
house, where we had a season fraught with pleasant reminiscence.

We took the stage here for Red Bluff, the rain pouring in torrents and the
night dark as Erebus, it being the beginning of the regular rainy season
of this country. During the night we reached the Sacramento River, which
we could almost have imagined to be the Styx, with the sombre Charon for a
ferry-man, for we soon learned that we were obliged to cross upon a flat
boat. The wind was blowing in so fierce a gale that the boatmen could not
near the shore, and called upon the passengers for assistance. All the
gentlemen responded but one passenger, who, although a man, was not
gentle, settled himself upon the back sea