, however, was
fruitless. The fathers were all out, and a servitor in attendance
opened the door, only a few inches, for a cautious parley. That glimpse
showed me some rather rich paintings in the interior of the dwelling,
but I had to rush back to our car without waiting for the return of the
fathers, or the view of the church, which, I am sure, they would be
glad to show me.

Once off from Oakland, we were indeed on the home-stretch, but we had
the mountains to climb, and much more to see.

We passed through Sacramento, the capital of the State, merely giving
it a glance, as we journeyed on into the glory of the mountains.

But of these mountains, how shall we speak! It was all a grand
crescendo of magnificence, until the snowsheds, erected over the
tracks, shut out the splendor of the scenery from our view. But even
the glimpses through the chinks were worth looking at. We saw far
beneath us the silver shield of a lonely and lovely lake, where in
spirit we went. We saw, too, the glory of sunset tints upon the frozen
peaks of distant heights. We saw, too, the great lines of the
mountain-sides, in successive sweeps, pine-clad and lovely, but
gigantic in their vast and repeated lines. The whole ride through those
sheds was tantalizing and yet interesting. It certainly was a daring
thing to conceive a protection from the winter's snow, of such extent;
and to keep it all in repair, ever watched, and tended, must be an
enormous task. It was a splendid sensation to climb those mountains on
our iron horse, but yet one would fain see them better, and loiter a
little among the camps and mining towns, and know more of the life.

My attention was aroused to the fearful effects of hydraulic mining as
we journeyed on ever upward. Here and there, one could see the fearful
work which ensued from such methods. The whole face of a mountain would
be torn off bare, and the valley beneath filled in with refuse, to the
depth of three hundred feet. It all looked like a great wound on the
venerable mountains, while the river-beds in the valleys were choked,
and distorted from their channels.

A brakeman who was showing me a pocketful of nuggets and specimens,
laughed me to scorn when I bemoaned the scarred and tortured look of
the hills in sight. "What," said he, "are mountains good for but to get
such stuff as that out of them?" as he tossed up a fragment of gold in
the air, and caught it on his open and greedy hand. But, after all, h