How did he know what train to meet? and what instinct impelled him to do his part towards keeping up the courtesy of the family?
A LETTER FROM CALIFORNIA.
Here we are in Santa Cruz, in a hotel right on the beach. We had such a lovely stage-ride over the mountains, and enjoyed the mountain air so much, that I was almost sorry when we arrived. I wish you could see the great madroña-trees on the mountains with their dark-red wood and beautiful green leaves. I do not believe you have any Eastern trees so beautiful.
On the top of the Santa Cruz mountains, where we stopped to water the horses, there is a little house, and while we waited there, out from the house came a man whose face was all scarred and seamed. After we drove away, the stage-driver told us that the man was a hunter, known as "Mountain Charley," and that his scars were made by a grisly-bear.