of heat or
cold.

When ready to move it was announced that I had lost my saddle blanket in
my adventure, so they substituted another one and I took the back track
to the place where the mule slipped down the bank, and there I found it.
I soon overtook them again just as they were going to camp on Mrs.
Bennett's account, as she had been suddenly taken sick with severe pain
and vomiting, something as Rogers and I had been after eating our first
California corn meal. The rich, fat meat was too strong for her weak
stomach.

Arcane all along had an idea that Rogers and I meant to surprise them by
leading them to believe the house we had visited was quite a distance
off, and then to so manage it that it should appear upon their sight
suddenly. We assured them it would take two or more camps before we
could get there, and if Mrs. Bennett did not soon recover, even more
than that. Our camp here was under a great live oak, the ground deep
covered with dry leaves, and near by a beautiful meadow where our cattle
and mule ate, drank and rested, the oxen chewing their cud with such an
air of comfort as had not come to them since leaving their far-off
eastern pastures. They seemed as much pleased as any one. They would lie
down and rest and eat at the same time in perfectly enjoyable laziness.

Here we all rested and washed such clothes as we could do without long
enough to dry, and washed our faces and hands over and over again to
remove the dirt which had been burned and sweated in so completely as
not to come off readily. We sat on the bank of the brook with our feet
dangling in the water, a most refreshing bath, and they too began to
look clean again. We often saw tracks of the grizzly bear about, but in
our ignorance had no fear of them, for we did not know they were a
dangerous animal. An owl came and hooted in the night, but that was the
only challenge any wild beast or bird gave to our peaceful and restful
camp. We were out of the dreadful sands and shadows of Death Valley, its
exhausting phantoms, its salty columns, bitter lakes and wild, dreary
sunken desolation. If the waves of the sea could flow in and cover its
barren nakedness, as we now know they might if a few sandy barriers were
swept away, it would be indeed, a blessing, for in it there is naught of
good, comfort or satisfaction, but ever in the minds of those who braved
its heat and sands, a thought of a horrid Charnel house, a corner of the
earth so dreary tha