when the miners come down to the valley to recruit
their health by following agricultural pursuits for a
short time. Large herds of cattle are kept on these
rich plains ; and besides grain, vegetables and a great
deal of fruit are cultivated here. The country wine
and cider are not at all bad tipple, and the strawberries
and cream were simply delicious. Near the farmhouse
there is a very beautiful grotto, to which we had to
descend through a narrow, dark passage, and on
reaching the bottom I was surprised to find it closely
resembling Capri, only the cave is loftier. There is the
same sheet of water,—sweet here,—that splendid blue
light upon the subterranean lake, and penetrating into
every crevice; a little boat is at hand,, as at Capri,
and you take a gentle row, fancying yourself in Fairyland.
The chromatic effect in Bower’s grotto must
have been produced artificially, whilst that of its prototype
in the blue Mediterranean is simply the reflection
of the bright Italian sky through a small
aperture in the rocks above.
Hence I continued my route by Coulterville as
far as Modesta, in a carriage and four horses, along a
wretched, dusty road, arriving at the latter station
terribly shaken. I t had taken us nine long hours
to accomplish the distance of forty-five miles, although
mostly down hill. The rails took me on the same
evening to Sacramento, where, at the “ Golden Eagle,”
I was indeed glad to get into a comfortable bed, and on
the followin g morning I found myself flying along in
the Silver Palace car of the Central Pacific Railway to
Ogden. These luxurious carriages are a great institution,
especially on long distances, and I availed myself
of the Silver, and its twin the Pulman, car as far as
Chicago, a distance of 2,200 miles, in consideration of
an extra payment of sixteen dollars, or one-third of
a penny per mile,—an extravagance I had no reason
to regret.
After leaving Sacramento, the first 100 miles were
one continual ascent, the engine, and at times a
pair of them, groaning under the pressure put upon
the boiler. Here we reached the top of the Sierra
Nevada, at an elevation of 7,042 feet above the tide, as
the Americans term it, after having passed through
some magnificent wild scenery, pine forest, and canons,
or gorges, of dark, mysterious d ep th ; we also
encountered a great deal of snow, which in exposed
situations required wooden sheds, often for miles, to
keep the rails clear. Between the two mighty chains,
the Sierra Nevada and the Rocky Mountains, we
never descended more than 3,000 feet, and early
next morning we passed “ Sink Humboldt,” a small
lake formed by a river, likewise bearing the name of
b b 2