abandoned on the shore of the salt lake. When
they returned, General Elting traded his big, nearly exhausted army
mules for their wiry little bronchos, giving two for one, and thus
securing fresh teams to haul all that remained of his wagon-train to the
coast.

The party spent three days in recruiting at this kindly ranch, to which
they will always look back with grateful hearts, and think of as one of
the most beautiful spots on earth. Then, strengthened and refreshed,
they passed on up the valley, which proved to be that of the Tehachapa,
the very pass towards which they had directed their course from the
moment of leaving the Colorado.

How beautiful seemed its oak-groves, its meadows, its abounding springs
of cool, sweet water, and its clear, bracing air! How they ate and slept
and worked and enjoyed living! What grand camp-fires they had, and how
much merriment circulated about them! And had they not cause for
rejoicing? Had they not toiled across half the width of a continent? Had
they not traversed vast plains and mountain-ranges and deserts? Had they
not encountered savage men and savage beasts? Had they not suffered from
hunger, thirst, cold, and hardships of all kinds? Had they not conquered
and triumphed over all these? Were they not left far behind, and was not
the journey's end in sight? No wonder they were light-hearted and
excited, and no wonder they seemed to inhale champagne with every breath
of that mountain air!

General Elting left them at the summit of the pass, and, taking Binney
Gibbs with him in his private ambulance, hastened on to Los Angeles to
make arrangements for the transportation of the party, by steamer, up
the coast to San Francisco; for there were no railroads in California in
those days.

The rest of the engineers travelled leisurely down the western slope of
the Sierras into a region that became more charming with each mile of
progress. It was spring-time. The rainy season was drawing to its close,
and the Golden State was at its best. The air was filled with the sweet
scents of innumerable flowers, the song of birds, and the music of
rushing waters. The bay-trees wore their new spring robes of vivid
green, from which the soft winds shook out delightfully spicy odors. The
trunks of the manzanitas glowed beneath their wine-red skins, while the
madronos were clad in glossy, fawn-colored satins. To the toil-worn
explorers, just off the alkaline sands of the parched and verdureless