There are larger and more populous cities in America than San Francisco, but few more deserving the designation of a Great City. The energies of her people, the prodigal wealth of her territory, and her singularly equable and temperate climate, form a sufficient guarantee of the increasing greatness of her future.
Finding my quarters at the hotel comfortable and restful after the strain I had endured as the result of two hundred days of rough riding, I deferred terminating my journey until two days later. It will be remembered that I undertook to ride from the Atlantic to the Pacific in the saddle, and hence my tour would not be literally completed before I reached the shores of the Pacific. Accordingly on the twenty-sixth of November I remounted and rode to the Cliff House, a romantic resort built on a rocky prominence overlooking the ocean. From here I descended the Toll Road to the sandy beach. A westerly breeze rolled the breakers up to the feet of my horse, and I forthwith walked him into the waters of the Pacific. My self-imposed task—my journey from Ocean to Ocean on Horseback—was accomplished.