Chapter 77

CAPTURED BY INDIANS.

Captain Glazier as a horseman.--Cheyenne.--Two herders.--Captured by Indians.--Torture and death of a herder.--Escape.--Ogden.-- Letter to Major Hessler.--Kelton.--Terrace.--Wells.--Halleck.-- Elko.--Palisade.--Argenta.--Battle Mountain.--Golconda.-- Humboldt.--"The majesty of the law."--Lovelock's.--White Plains.--Desert.--Wadsworth.--Truckee.--Summit.--Sacramento.-- Brighton.--Stockton.--SAN FRANCISCO.

Having made several friends in Omaha, and obtained all the information within his reach concerning the remaining half of the journey, Captain Glazier mounted his mustang and proceeded on his route across the State of Nebraska. Over the great plains that lie between the Missouri River and the mountains, his nerve as a horseman was most thoroughly tested, and not less so, the mettle of his mustang, which carried him a distance of five hundred and twenty-two miles in six days. The approach of winter suggested the importance of reaching his destination at the earliest possible date; therefore on riding into Cheyenne October twenty-eighth, he lost no time in arranging to continue his journey.

The weather now became intensely cold, as he neared the highest point in his line of march. Since leaving Omaha, the ascent had been gradual but continuous, and the point now reached was eight thousand feet above the sea-level.

Cheyenne, the "Magic City of the Plains," about five hundred and twenty miles west of Omaha, stands at an elevation of six thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is perhaps the most progressive city west of Chicago. It is the capital of Wyoming Territory, the county-seat of Laramie County, and is the largest town between Omaha and Salt Lake City. The gold discoveries in the Black Hills of Dakota added greatly to its prosperity. In proportion to its population, Cheyenne has more elegant and substantial business houses than most any other western city. This is a wonderful change from a place known the world over by its fearful sobriquet of "Hell on Wheels." Churches have risen where gamblers once reigned, and many other edifices for religious and educational purposes have been erected. Cheyenne is the trading-post for the thousands of ranchemen and stock-raisers of the plains at the base of the Black Hills, and like all other frontier cities, has a history. It was once a very fast town, and it is not very slow now.

On leaving Cheyenne he was accompanied by two herders, who were on their way to Salt Lake City with a few mustangs and ponies. It was the custom of Captain Glazier to have company in his rides through this wild region whenever he could do so, and having made the acquaintance of these men in the city, it was arranged that they should journey together as far as their respective routes led them. The men were of the usual stamp of herders, rough in exterior and plain of speech, but apparently worthy of trust. The captain was not wanting in discernment, and his cordial manner won their confidence.

Sherman having afforded them a night's shelter and refreshment, their course lay in the direction of the Skull Rocks, a huge mass of granite on the Great Laramie Plains, and so called from the resemblance of the rocks to human skulls.

The Skull Rocks being in front of them at no great distance, the conversation of the party turned upon their peculiar configuration, and opinions were advanced by each of a more or less intelligent character; the herders insisting on the probability of their having plenty of gold in them. Suddenly, over a slight elevation in the land, appeared a body of Indians, in number about thirteen or fourteen. Glazier and his companions were not at first surprised, as Indians are often found on these plains--some friendly and some hostile--but mostly those of the friendly tribes. The Indians now advancing upon them were clearly not on a friendly errand, and were pronounced by the herders to be a detachment of the Arrapahoes. They were decked in their war-paint, and on seeing the white men immediately raised their war-shout, which, as travellers on the plains are aware, always indicates an intention to attack.

The herders, knowing that they were in the presence of an enemy who would speedily relieve them of their merchandise, made conciliatory signs, by raising their hands, a signal which is equivalent to a flag of truce, and is so understood on the plains. The signal of truce was, however, ignored by the red-skins, who continued to advance at a rapid pace, gradually forming a circle around Glazier and his companions. This is the usual Indian form of attack. The circle is kept constantly in rapid motion, the Indians concentrating their fire upon a stationary object in the centre of the circle, while they render themselves a constantly shifting target, and are thus comparatively safe from the fire of the centre.

Riding around, and firing at intervals of a minute or two at Glazier and his companions, the latter did their best to defend themselves, and fired in return upon their cowardly assailants, who showed no desire for a parley. The firing from the centre was made over the backs of the ponies and mustangs, who in such emergencies are made to do duty as a breastwork. The circle of red-skins gradually lessened in diameter, as the firing on both sides continued, when a shot from the carbine of the Mexican herder killed one of the Indians.

The circle continued to grow less, until the Indians in a mass rushed on the three whites, disarmed them, secured them to each other with thongs at the wrists, and appropriated as their own the mustangs and ponies, which had been their primary object.

Before yielding, Captain Glazier and his little squad had nearly exhausted their ammunition, and felt that further resistance was not only useless, but would certainly cost them their lives. Without loss of time, the prisoners were compelled to mount, and the entire party--less one Indian killed--started off in a northerly direction.

Ignorant of their destination, the herders expressed their belief that they would in a few days find themselves in the presence of Sitting Bull, when their fate would be decided. They continued to ride at a full trot till about ten o'clock, when the whole party dismounted and camped for the night. A fire was speedily built, and some antelope beef partially roasted for their supper, of which the prisoners also partook.

The supper over, an animated conversation ensued among the Indians, while sundry furtive glances were cast in the direction of the Mexican who had killed one of their party during the attack in the morning. For a time they shouted and violently gesticulated, while one of them was observed driving a thick pole into the ground, at about fifty yards from the fire, around which the party and the prisoners squatted. Presently, at a sign from one of the Indians, supposed to be a chief named "Dull-Knife," four of the red-skins seized the Mexican and forced him towards the stake, where they stripped him to the skin, and then bound him to it with thick cords. The whole party then, without further ceremony, proceeded to torture the wretched man to death, as a punishment for his presumption in killing one of their party while defending himself from their murderous attack near the Skull Rocks. They heated their arrow-shafts in the fire, and held them in contact with his naked flesh, while others, at a distance of a few feet from their victim, cast at him their sharp-pointed knives, which, penetrating the body, remained embedded in the flesh, until he nearly died from the agony. One of the party now advanced with a revolver, and shot him in the head, thus ending his sufferings.

While the torture was proceeding, Captain Glazier and the remaining herder lay on the ground bound together by thick cords, and could offer no assistance to their tortured companion. The Mexican being dead, one of the party removed his scalp and fastened it to his waist, after which all sat down around the fire and seemed in high glee for the remainder of the evening, for the most part shouting and speech-making.

Willard Glazier had never before witnessed a case of torture by the Indians. It is true it was of a different character from that he and many of his old comrades had endured in Southern prisons; but in one respect was more merciful, as the sufferings of their victim were soon ended, while his own and his comrades extended over many months; in the one case the body was burnt and lacerated--in the other it was starved and emaciated.

The horses of the party having been tethered by long ropes to stakes, to enable them to graze during the night, a guard of two Indians was placed in charge of the prisoners, who, still bound together at the wrists, were made to lie down side by side, with an Indian on either hand. The remainder of the red-skins then disposed themselves around the fire for sleep.

Glazier and his companion slept but little, but pretended to do so. They were continually on the alert, and the guard, believing their prisoners to be asleep, dozed, and at length reclined their bodies in a restless sleep. About two o'clock in the morning, the two Indians were relieved by two others, and all remained quiet in the camp. At the first streak of dawn, the whole body leaped to their feet and were ready to resume their march northward. Glazier and the herder were assigned each a mustang, which they quietly mounted under the close scrutiny of their guards, and the entire party started off at a brisk trot.

No attempt at escape having yet been made by the captives, the surveillance became somewhat relaxed throughout the day, and the attention of the party was given to their own proper business of foraging. Wherever an opportunity offered, a momentary halt was called, and one of the party creeping cautiously up to a stray pony, would take possession by the simple process of mounting and riding him away. If more than one animal was to be appropriated, an equal number of Indians were detailed for the "duty," and each leaping on the mustang or pony he had selected, would ride off as only these freebooters of the plains can ride, with little prospect of being overtaken by the owners. Thus the day passed; as a rule, half the number of the Indians remaining as a guard to the prisoners, while the others foraged for food, and anything that could be conveniently carried off. They were now skirting the Black Hills, and Glazier had discovered by this time that they were making their way to their general rendezvous, about one hundred miles from Deadwood.

As the second night overtook the captives, the process of the previous night was repeated: they built their fire, cooked and ate their antelope steaks, and then prostrated themselves around the fire for the night. The captives were again bound together at the wrists, and lay between their two guards. Our friend was, however, on the alert and wide awake, though pretending to be asleep. Quietly he passed the fingers of one hand over the cords that bound his other to his companion, and concluded that with patience and vigilance the knot could be unfastened. While the guards dozed and slept as on the preceding night, the eyes of the prisoners stealthily sought the ponies and the arms.

The latter were always placed at the head of each sleeper, to be ready for immediate use in case of a surprise. Captain Glazier and his companion were fully convinced that any attempt to escape, if detected, would be followed by immediate torture and death; but were, nevertheless, resolved to make the effort. It was also known that if they quietly accompanied the Indians to their rendezvous or headquarters, they would be retained as hostages, probably for a long period, and be subject at any time to be tortured should a fit of vengeance seize their captors. They would not, however, make an attempt to escape unless there appeared a moral certainty of its successful accomplishment.

The third day arrived, and at dawn, after partaking of the usual breakfast of raw antelope or other game, they started again on their march. They rode all day, with the usual stoppages for forage, and about eight o'clock in the evening camped, supped, and lay down for the night, as before, after assigning the usual night-guards to the prisoners, who were again bound together.

Glazier, with the experience he had obtained in the South, and his companion, with his intimate knowledge of the plains, kept themselves constantly on the alert, prepared to take advantage of any opportunity that offered to escape from their captors. They had each fixed his eye on a pony in the herd. These animals were turned out to graze with their saddles on, in order that they might be ready for instant use, if required, in the night. The prisoners began snoring loudly under pretence of being asleep, and at the same time the guards dozed and slept at intervals, but were restless until about midnight, when they both succumbed and were fast asleep.

Glazier now worked at the cord on his wrist, and found he could unfasten it. While so doing, one of the Indians moved in his sleep, and immediately all was still as death with the captives. At length the time had arrived, the complicated knot was loosened, and the noose slipped over his hand, which at once gave him and his partner liberty of action. They knew where the arms lay, and each in the twinkling of an eye secured a large navy revolver without disturbing the Indians. They then simultaneously struck the two sleeping guards a powerful blow on the head with the butt of their revolvers. The Indian struck by the herder was nearly killed by the heavy blow, while Glazier's man was only stunned. They then made for the ponies, leaped into the saddles, and before any of the other Indians had shaken off their heavy slumber, had struck out with all their might in the direction from which they had come, and in the opposite one, therefore, to that in which the Indian party were proceeding.

In a moment, however, the pursuit commenced in earnest; vociferations implying vengeance of the direst character if they did not halt, were flung through the darkness, which only had the effect of spurring the fugitives to still greater speed. Glazier turned in his saddle and sent a bullet among his pursuers in reply to their peremptory invitation to him to halt. Another and another followed, and one Indian was dismounted, but the darkness prevented his seeing if his other shots had told. The Indians meanwhile, who had plenty of ammunition, were not slow in returning the fire, but luckily without any worse result than to increase the pace of the flying ponies.

Away they tore at the top of their speed, and soon entered a canyon in the mountain side. Only two or three of the Indians could now be seen in pursuit, and the herder, saying it would be better for both if they took different directions, at once struck off through a ravine to the right, and left Glazier alone. One Indian was observed to follow, but Glazier sent a bullet into the enemy's horse, and thus put a stop to further pursuit. The Indian now leveled his carbine at Glazier and dismounted him; and the latter's ammunition being exhausted, he ran off towards a gulch, and leaping in, remained hidden until daylight. Finding the coast clear in the morning, he emerged and at once set out walking in a southwesterly direction, which eventually brought him to a cattle-ranche, the owner of which supplied him with refreshment and a fresh mustang. Again turning his face to the west he pursued his way, covering the ground between himself and the Golden Gate at the rate of sixty miles per day.

Ogden, in the northern extremity of Utah, about forty miles from Salt Lake City, and five hundred and eleven from Cheyenne, was reached November thirteenth, after hard riding and sundry stoppages at ranches in quest of hospitality and information. No event occurred more exciting than the shooting of a buffalo that crossed his path--this being the third, beside sundry antelopes and several prairie wolves that had fallen to his revolver, in the course of his journey since leaving Omaha. On riding into Ogden, Captain Glazier was surprised to find it so important a city. It forms the western terminus of the Union Pacific, and the eastern terminus of the Central Pacific, railroads, and is the second city in size and population in the Territory of Utah. Besides the churches, a Mormon tabernacle was noticed, the population being largely of the polygamic persuasion and yielding their allegiance to the prophet of Salt Lake City.

One peculiarity of the towns in these western territories is the running streams of water on each side of nearly every street, which are fed by some mountain stream and from which water is taken to irrigate the gardens and orchards adjoining the dwellings. Ogden has a bright future before it. It is not only the terminus of the two great trans-continental lines before mentioned, but is also the starting-point of the Utah Central and Utah Northern railroads. Vast quantities of iron ore can be obtained within five miles of the city, and in Ogden canyon discoveries of silver have been made. Fruit-growing is very common in the vicinity, and a large quantity of the best varieties grown in the Territory are produced around Ogden. Utah apples, peaches and pears are finer in size, color and flavor than any grown in the Eastern or Middle States.

November eighteenth, Captain Glazier heard from his advance agent, Mr. Walter Montgomery, then in Sacramento, who was in ignorance of the captain's adventure among the Indians after leaving Cheyenne, except that certain startling rumors had reached him of the captain having been killed by the Sioux. Mr. Montgomery had accordingly written to various points for information of the missing horseman; and to allay the fears of his numerous well-wishers, who were in doubt as to his safety, Captain Glazier, after leaving Ogden, wrote the following summary of his adventure, addressed to his friend, Major E. M. Hessler, of Cleveland, Ohio:

Wild Cat Ranche, In Ogden Canyon, Utah, _November 18th, 1876_.

Major E. M. Hessler, Cleveland, Ohio.

Dear Sir and Comrade: I learn through my advance agent Mr. Montgomery, that a letter, manifesting some anxiety for my welfare, was recently addressed to you. I hasten to say that I am again in the saddle, and although for three days the guest of the Arrapahoes, I am still in the best of spirits, and with even more hair than when I left Cleveland. I should be pleased to give you a detailed account of my adventures among the red-skins, but have only time to tell you that I started from Cheyenne, October twenty-eighth, accompanying two herders who were on their way to Salt Lake City with a small drove of mustangs and Indian ponies. We were attacked on the thirty-first of the same month by a straggling band of Arrapahoes, near Skull Rocks, on the Laramie Plains. One Indian was killed, and my companions and myself were made prisoners after using up nearly all our ammunition in the effort to repulse our assailants. The herder whose fire killed the Indian was afterwards tied to a stake and most cruelly tortured to death. Bound to my remaining companion with thongs, we were on the following morning placed upon ponies and marched rapidly to the northward.

Breaking away from our captors on the night of November second by disabling two of our guards, we were followed some miles, firing and receiving the fire of the Indians as we galloped off on two of their ponies which we had appropriated. After being dismounted by a shot, and dismounting the Indian who had killed my horse, I finally eluded my pursuers by leaping into a gulch in the mountains, where I remained until daylight, when, finding no Indians in sight, I pursued my way on foot in a southwesterly direction, which brought me to a cattle-ranche late in the afternoon. Here I secured a fresh mustang, and once more turned my face toward the setting sun.

My money and personal effects were of course promptly taken possession of by the Arrapahoes. I am now moving westward at an average of over sixty miles per day, confidently expecting to reach San Francisco by the twenty-fourth instant. In our encounter on the Laramie Plains, five members of the "Lo!" family were sent to their Happy Hunting Ground, and in the matter of scalps you may score at least two for your humble servant.

With kind regards to friends in Cleveland, I close this letter to mount my horse,

And remain, ever truly yours, Willard Glazier.

Captain Glazier's main object now was to push on to Sacramento as fast as his mustang would carry him. Kelton (Utah), at the northwest corner of Salt Lake, was accordingly reached soon after leaving Ogden, where he halted a few hours. This station is seven hundred and ninety miles from San Francisco. Stock is extensively grazed in its vicinity, feeding on sage brush in the winter and such grass as they can get; but excellent grazing is found in the summer. The cattle are shipped to markets on the Pacific coast in large numbers. Terrace (Utah) was the next resting-place, seven hundred and fifty-seven miles from San Francisco, in the midst of a desert with all its dreary loneliness. Continuing his pace at an average of eight miles per hour--the temperature being very low at an elevation of nearly five thousand feet--Captain Glazier observed a few only of the salient features of the wild country he now passed through, his position on horseback being less favorable for topographical study than that of the tourist comfortably seated in a palace-car.

Wells (Nevada) was duly reached by the lonely rider, who found on inquiry that he was now only six hundred and sixty-one miles from his destination. This place stands at an elevation of five thousand six hundred and twenty-nine feet. Humboldt Wells, as they are designated, give celebrity to the place, which was a great watering-station in the days of the old emigrant travel. The emigrants always rejoiced when they had passed the perils of the Great American Desert and arrived at these springs, where there was always plenty of pure water and an abundance of grass for the weary animals. Hence it was a favorite camping-ground before the existence of the Pacific Railroad. The wells are very deep. A Government exploring party, under command of Lieutenant Cuppinger, visited the spot in 1870, and took soundings to a depth of seventeen hundred feet without finding bottom.

Halleck (Nevada) was the next resting station, at an elevation of five thousand two hundred and thirty feet. It is named from Camp Halleck, about thirteen miles from the station, where two or three companies of United States troops are usually kept. The land around is mostly occupied as stock-ranges.

Elko (Nevada), twenty-four miles nearer his destination, supplied his wants in the way of rest and food for the night. This is the county-seat of Elko County, the northeastern county of the State. The town has a population of 1500, and is destined to become an important city. The money paid for freights consigned to this place and the mining districts which are tributary to it, averages $1,000,000 per year. There are numerous retail stores, and a few wholesale establishments, with a bank, brewery, hotels, and three large freight depots for the accommodation of the railroad business. Indians, mostly the Shoshones, of both sexes, are frequently noticed about the town.

The valley of the Humboldt continued to widen after leaving Elko--the pastures and meadow lands, with occasional houses, were soon passed, and the rider pushed on to Palisade (Nevada), his next halting-place, thirty miles from Elko, and five hundred and seventy-six from San Francisco. For the last two hundred miles the road had been a gradual descent, and the change of temperature was very sensible. Palisade is a growing little place, with a population of about four hundred souls. The town is located about half way down a canyon, and the rocky, perpendicular walls give it a picturesque appearance.

Forty-one miles farther west Captain Glazier stopped again for refreshment and rest at Argenta (Nevada), in the midst of alkali flats. The road continued for a few miles along the base of the Reese River Mountain, when suddenly a broad valley opened out--the valley of the Reese River. Turning to the right he found himself at Battle Mountain (Nevada), at the junction of the Reese River and Humboldt Valleys. The town of Battle Mountain has several extensive stores, a public hall, an excellent school-house and a first-class hotel, with a large and rapidly increasing trade. Battle Mountain, about three miles south of the town, is reputed to have been the scene of a sanguinary conflict between a party of emigrants and a band of red-skins, who were defeated.

Golconda (Nevada) was reached, and is four hundred and seventy-eight miles from San Francisco. It is a small place, with three or four stores, a hotel, and several houses. Gold Run mining district, a little distance to the south, is tributary to the place. Having rested for the night, Glazier mounted at sunrise and directed his course to Winnemucca (Nevada), the county-seat of Humboldt county, with a population of fifteen hundred, among whom are some Indians and not a few Chinamen. The town has an elegant brick court-house, together with several stores, hotels, shops, and a school-house. _Winnemucca_ was the name of a chief of the Piute Indians, who was favorable to the whites at the time of the laying out of the city.

Humboldt (Nevada) was reached in due time--an oasis in the desert. Here he was reminded that he was still in a land of cultivation and civilization. The first growing trees since leaving Ogden were seen here, with plenty of green grass and flowing fountains of pure water. Humboldt House offered its hospitality to our traveler, and the place and its surroundings reminded him of his home in the east. It was a great relief from the wearisome, dreary views which had everywhere met his gaze over the largest part of his journey since leaving Omaha. Humboldt is the business centre of several valuable mining districts, and has a bright prospect in the future.

The following incident is said to have occurred in one of the Nevada mining towns not many miles from Humboldt:

About the year 1852 or '53, on a still, hot summer afternoon, a certain man who shall be nameless, having tracked his two donkeys and one horse a half mile and discovering that a man's track with spur marks followed them, came back to town and told "the boys," who loitered about a popular saloon, that in his opinion some Mexican had stolen the animals. Such news as this demanded, naturally, drinks all around.

"Do you know, gentlemen," said one who assumed leadership, "that just naturally to shoot these greasers ain't the best way? Give 'em a fair jury trial, and rope 'em up with all the majesty of the law. That's the cure."

Such words of moderation were well received, and they drank again to "Here's hoping we may ketch that greaser!"

As they loafed back to the veranda, a Mexican walked over the hill-brow, jingling his spurs pleasantly in accord with a whistled waltz.

The advocate for the law said, in an undertone, "That's the cuss!"

A rush, a struggle, and the Mexican, bound hand and foot, lay on his back in the bar-room. The miners turned out to a man.

Happily, such cries as "_String him up!_" "_Burn the dog-goned lubricator!_" and other equally pleasant phrases fell unheeded upon his Spanish ear. A jury was quickly gathered in the street, and despite refusals to serve, the crowd hurried them in behind the bar.

A brief statement of the case was made by the advocate _pro tem._, and they showed the jury into a commodious poker-room, where were seats grouped about neat green tables. The noise outside in the bar-room by-and-by died away into complete silence, but from afar down the canyon came confused sounds as of disorderly cheering. They came nearer, and again the light-hearted noise of human laughter mingled with clinking glasses around the bar.

A low knock at the jury door, the lock burst in, and a dozen smiling fellows asked the verdict. The foreman promptly answered, "_Not guilty._"

With volleys of oaths, and ominous laying of hands on pistol hilts, the "boys" slammed the door with--"_You'll have to do better than that!_"

In half an hour the advocate gently opened the door again.

"Your _opinion_, gentlemen?"

"Guilty!"

"Correct! you can come out. _We hung him an hour ago!_"

The jury took their drinks, and when, after a few minutes, the pleasant village returned to its former tranquility, it was "_allowed_" at more than one saloon that "Mexicans'll know enough to let white men's stock alone after this." One and another exchanged the belief that this sort of thing was more sensible than "nipping 'em on sight."

When, before sunset, the bar-keeper concluded to sweep some dust out of his poker-room back-door, he felt a momentary surprise at finding the missing horse dozing under the shadow of an oak, and the two lost donkeys serenely masticating playing-cards, of which many bushels lay in a dirty pile. He was then reminded that the animals had been there all day!

Lovelocks (Nevada) is three hundred and eighty-nine miles from San Francisco, and its elevation above the sea-level three thousand nine hundred and seventy-seven feet. It is simply a station, with a few buildings connected with the Central Pacific Railroad; but is a fine grazing region, and large herds of cattle are fattened here upon the rich native grasses. There is quite a settlement of farmers near Lovelocks. Before the railroad came the pasture lands were renowned among the emigrants, who recruited their stock after the wearisome journey across the plains.

Leaving Lovelocks, Captain Glazier soon found himself again on the barren desert. A side track of the railroad, named White Plains, gave him rest for the night. The spot is surrounded by a white alkali desert, covered in places with salt and alkali deposits. Hot Springs is another station in the midst of the desert, and is so named from the hot springs whose rising steam can be seen about half a mile from the station.

Hastening forward he reached Desert (Nevada), which he found to be three hundred and thirty-five miles from San Francisco, and that the place is rightly named. The winds that sweep the barren plains here, heap the sand around the scattered sage brush till they resemble huge potato hills--a most dreary place.

The captain found it quite a relief on reaching Wadsworth (Nevada), a town of about five hundred souls, and three hundred and twenty-eight miles from the end of his journey. It has several large stores, Chinamen's houses, and hotels, in one of the latter of which he found refreshment and a bed. His route had been for several days across dreary, monotonous plains, with nothing but black desolation around him. Another world now opened to his view--a world of beauty, grandeur and sublimity. Reluctantly leaving this agreeable place, he crossed the Truckee River, and gazed with delightful sensations upon the trees, the green meadows, comfortable farm-houses and well-tilled fields of the ranches, as he rode forward.

He had now crossed the boundary line that divides Nevada from California, and Truckee was the first place he halted at. This is a flourishing little city of fifteen hundred inhabitants, one-third of whom are Chinese, and is two hundred and fifty-nine miles from San Francisco. A large number of good stores were seen here, and a considerable trade is carried on.

He next reached Summit (California). From this point the road descends rapidly to the Valley of the Sacramento.

Several intermediate places having been stopped at, in which our traveler obtained accommodation for a night, we hasten on with him to Sacramento, where, on November twenty-first, he found himself again surrounded with all the appliances of civilization. Sacramento has a population of twenty-five thousand. The broad streets are shaded by heavy foliage. It is a city of beautiful homes. Lovely cottages are surrounded by flowers, fruits and vines; while some of the most elegant mansions in the State are in the midst of grassy lawns, or gardens filled with the rarest flowers. Here is the State capitol, a building that cost nearly $2,500,000 for its erection. Sacramento is an important railroad centre, second only to San Francisco.

Brighton was one hundred and thirty-four miles from the termination of his ride. At the farm-houses along the road numerous wind-mills were seen. These are used to fill reservoirs for household wants, and are common in all the valleys and plains of California.

A halt was made at Stockton, twenty-one miles from destination. This city has a population of about fifteen thousand, and is only twenty-three feet above the level of the sea. It was named to commemorate Commodore Stockton's part in the conquest of California.

Using all despatch, Captain Glazier pushed on to San Francisco, and entered the city November twenty-fourth, registering at the Palace Hotel. He immediately after rode, in company with Mr. Walter Montgomery, and a friend, to the Cliff House, reaching it by the toll-road. This beautiful seaside resort is built on a prominence overlooking the ocean. Captain Glazier walked his horse into the waters of the Pacific, and then felt that he had accomplished his task. He had ridden in the saddle from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean--from Boston to San Francisco--a distance of four thousand one hundred and thirty-three miles, in just two hundred days.

He was now no longer the slave of duty, and would rest for a few days and see the beautiful city before he returned to the east. He wandered about, mostly on foot, visited and inspected the numerous public buildings, the City Park, Woodward's Gardens, etc., and became convinced from personal observation of the greatness and magnificence of this city on the Pacific, with its three hundred thousand inhabitants, covering a territory of forty-two square miles, and the growth of less than thirty years. On its eastern front San Francisco extends along the bay, whose name it bears, bounded on the north by the Golden Gate, and on the west washed by the Pacific Ocean along a beach five or six miles in extent. It is not, however, a part of our plan to describe this wonderful city, which has been done most effectively by others.