"Come, mother," said Mr. Page, helping his wife into the buggy; "we must get a start, or we'll be in for the dust."
"That's so," rejoined Dingley, "that's so. I'll give ye five minutes' start to forge ahead."
Presently the brisk little buggy horse was trotting ahead, and as it turned the first bend of the road the stage driver touched his mules. Off they started.
Despite the dust which covered them from head to foot, even penetrating the luncheon basket (which they opened about noon by the side of a tiny, clear spring half hidden amid a grove of cottonwood trees), the party enjoyed the ride very much. By the time they reached Witch Creek, where they intended passing the night if Mrs. Page felt much fatigued, she thought herself fully able to push on to Santa Isabel. From there they would have to make an early start for the hot springs next morning.
Three miles and a half further on their journey ended for the day. They had enjoyed every inch of it, yet were delighted to find themselves, at the close of the day, in the long, white, one-story hotel, set invitingly amid a grove of trees larger than any they had seen in California. After an appetizing supper they retired to rest. Everybody slept well, and seven o'clock found them ready for the road once more.
To the surprise of the children, who thought they were to make the remainder of their journey in the company of their friend Dingley, they learned that such was not the case. He had continued on his route up to Julian. The way of our travelers lay in another direction. It was a delight to step into the spring wagon awaiting them, to find themselves speeding along the edge of the foot-hills, through the broad valley, until, almost before they had become accustomed to their surroundings, the driver, pointing to a speck in the distance, apparently at the very base of a rugged mountain, announced: "There are the hot springs."
"How close to the mountain they are," said Walter.
"Not so close as they seem," was the reply. "They are seven miles distant, but the atmosphere is so clear that they appear much nearer."
A sudden turn in the road now hid the village from view. As they wound on and on it would reappear and disappear, always under some new aspect of wild picturesqueness and beauty.
"You see that highest peak over there, just above the village?" said the driver, pointing with his whip. "Well, that is the 'Eagle.' The two other mountains nearest are called the 'Rabbit' and the 'Squaw.'"