ed to support the heavens as do the pillars the dome of the
capitol.
Swarms of screaming sea gulls fill the air, some of which, benumbed by
cold alighted on the steamer's deck. Lonely ranches are seen, hemmed
in by the everlasting hills.
Our great, lazy boat, propelled by a stern wheel as big as a barn,
paddled slowly over the muddy waters of the great Sacramento River,
made yellow by the turbid waters sent to it from scores of hydraulic
mines on the mountains. On one island is an immense smelting furnace,
the tall chimneys of which send forth volumes of poisonous smoke,
dangerous to breathe, and covering everything with a coating black as
soot. Inhaling this, some of the operators die of lead poisoning. Many
islands are here scarcely above the water's edge, having little houses
built on stilts occupied by the salmon fishers who are seen pulling
their nets, and around whose heads whirl and scream flocks of fish
hawks, ravenous for their prey.
After a successful book fight at the capital city, I went to Red Bluff
where I was broiled and roasted in a day and night temperature of a
hundred and twelve degrees in the shade. I survived only by keeping
my head wrapped in ice water; I could neither eat nor sleep, and like
Dickens, I longed to "take off my flesh, and sit in my bones." It was
a veritable hell on earth.
The county superintendent of schools here, told me he sold his prune
crop that year for five thousand dollars, and went away leaving the
purchaser to pick the fruit. On his return, he found that the red
spiders had anticipated the pickers, and destroyed the entire crop, so
that his work of years came to naught, as the buyers of course refused
to pay to feed the spiders.
Thence I went to San Luis Obispo, and on the way we struck the Coast
Range Mountains. The tortuous upclimbing and downsliding of the train
disclosed scenery imposing and grand. You looked down the precipitous
rock-ribbed sides thousands of feet to the narrow, beautiful valleys,
made productive by the irrigation from many foaming waterfalls. We
circle the mountains many times before reaching the valleys, traveling
many hours to gain a straight-line mile.
These valleys are lovely to look down upon; but the fogs much of the
time hang over them like a pall, and catarrh and rheumatism render
life one of misery to many of the people.
[Illustration: Above the Clouds.]
CHAPTER XXIX.
AMONG THE CLOUDS.
In the following May, 189
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