March 29, 1854. I went out to try my skill at rifle shooting. Saw a pair of Vultures in a tree on the heights in front of my house. I clambered up the hill and approached within a short distance of the birds, but the trunk of the tree, on the branches of which they stood, hid them from my view, and I made a short circuit, and crept behind a tree that brought me still nearer the Vultures. I now had one of them in full view, and was in a fair way to have him in my possession. I cocked my rifle for the fatal shot, brought it up to my face, and closed my left optic, preparatory to the death-dealing aim, when the foolish bird, as if he were actuated by a spirit of reckless daring, bravado and defiance, sidled out on the branch that held him, stood erect with his breast square before me, half expanded his broad wings, while he cast a glance of his keen eyes upon me, and seemed to say, "Here is your mark; now try your skill." I did so. The report of my rifle reverberated over the hills; the ball sped—I knew not whither—and the birds left their perch with a precipitancy, and flew away with a haste I have seldom witnessed. The smoke of the powder had scarcely cleared away ere they were seen performing their gyrations over a neighboring mountain. I made my way speedily, down the hill, and—sold my rifle.
I accepted an invitation from a friend to attend a Methodist camp-meeting, which was held in a grove about five miles distant from the Contra Costa Redwoods. The services did not vary much from similar services in New England. But a little incident occurred of such a novel character, and so singularly beautiful, that I record it for the benefit of Christians in other portions of the country. When the collection was about to be taken, the Presiding Elder, the Rev. Mr. Fulton, addressed the audience in these words: "At the last Presbyterian camp-meeting, the collection taken for the support of the ministry was, most unexpectedly to me, divided between all of us who had taken part in the services; and I was constrained to share it equally with my Presbyterian brethren. Such an act, the first of the kind I have ever known, was as gratifying as it was unexpected; and most happy am I to say, that we have this day an opportunity to reciprocate the favor, by sharing with the brother of that denomination now present, the collection to which we invite you to contribute."
The effect of this address upon the audience was manifested by the jingling of the coin which was poured into the hats from every quarter of the field.
With this little anecdote I take leave of the reader, remarking, however, that I passed nine years in California; resided in many of its principal cities; roamed over a large part of the northern portion of the State; visited most of the mines from Mariposa to Yreka; traveled across the State of Oregon and into Washington Territory; sailed up the Columbia River to the Cascades; visited a great number of places remarkable for their scenery; spent five weeks in the wonderful Yosemite Valley; lodged in a hollow of one of the "Big Trees" of Mariposa; listened to the mighty roar of the Geysers; walked round the beautiful Clear Lake, and paddled my canoe round the far-famed Lake Tahoe; clambered up the sides, and stood upon the highest pinnacles of Mount Shasta, and many other mountains of the Sierra Nevada range; and encountered people of all descriptions, characters, and nationalities. Reader, shall I give you a further account of my observations and adventures?
THE END.