n ranchers of
the fire, and every little while a man would come out and report the
progress made in checking it. It was an oppressive, hidden danger, for
nothing could be seen from the valley of the actual flames through the
thick suffocating curtain of smoke that hung over all. The only avenue
of escape was by way of the road to Gilroy, and the fire threatened
momentarily to cut this off. Not wishing to abandon the place to its
fate, Mrs. Stevenson thought out a plan for saving their lives in the
last emergency by wrapping up in wet blankets and crouching in a sort
of hole or low place in an open field near the house. Fortunately the
fire was stopped before this became necessary.

[Footnote 70: The late Mrs. E. E. Mitchell, of Nebraska
City, Nebraska.]

[Illustration: The house at Vanumanutagi ranch.]

It was while she was living at the ranch that Mrs. Stevenson began to
write the introductions to her husband's works in the biographical
edition brought out by Charles Scribner's Sons. As she had but a
modest opinion of her abilities, she undertook this work with the
greatest reluctance, and in a letter to Mr. Scribner she remarks, "It
appalls me to think of my temerity in writing these introductions."
Yet I believe that everyone who reads them will feel that a new and
personal interest has been added to each one of his books by her
graphic story of the circumstances of its writing.

Among the best loved of the infrequent guests who braved the long,
hot, dusty drive from Gilroy to the ranch was the young California
writer, Frank Norris. During his visits there Mrs. Stevenson became
much attached to him, and he in turn was so charmed with the place and
the life that he determined to buy a ranch in the neighbourhood. As I
have already said, when an opportunity offered he bought the Douglas
Sanders place, Quien Sabe Rancho, intending to spend all his summers
there. Writing to Mrs. Stevenson about his plans in his gay boyish
fashion, he says:

"My dear Mrs. Stevenson:

"This is to tell you that our famous round-the-world trip has been
curtailed to a modest little excursion Samoa-wards and back, or mebbe
we get as far as Sydney. We wont go to France, but will come to Quien
Sabe in February--FEBRUARY! We find in figuring up our stubs that we
have a whole lot more money than we thought, but the blame stuff has
got to be transferred from our New York bank to here, which (because
we went about