My brother will leave in a few days for California, he will be absent, perhaps for eighteen months. This journey is undertaken with the hope that he may be able to get gold. What may be the result, God only knows. John will be accompanied by Col. H. L. Webb, as military leader; the party consists of about eighty picked men. One of Dr. Mayer's sons wished to go with John, but unluckily, his application came after the party was made up, so they could not take him. I should like much to see you all, but now it will be impossible for me to go so far from home. My dear old father is apparently comfortable, and enjoys his little notions; but requires constant care and attendance; the rest are well. Your granddaughters are growing finely, and are well educated; soon we shall call in a "_Maitre de danse_," to polish them up and _improve their understanding_. I am just about to start for Washington, to get letters from the President for John and I will try and see the collection brought back by the exploring expedition, including the famous Black-tail Deer. I am in a great bustle, the office is full of Californians. The California party, which eventually consisted of nearly one hundred young men, sought to reach the goldfields by way of Texas, Mexico and Arizona; attacked by cholera in the valley of the Rio Grande and deserted by their leader, a remnant of the company chose in his stead young Audubon, who bravely conducted them to their destination. John Audubon returned in the following year, after thirteen of the members of the party and $27,000 had been lost in the venture. Like a patriarch of old, as a friend had once pictured him, Audubon passed the end of his days surrounded by loving and able retainers, who, like "ministers of state," were only too glad to execute his every wish. Distinguished and handsome in age, appearing to many older than he actually was, for years his snowy locks and benign countenance attracted every passer on the street, and for each he had a friendly look, word, or greeting, until in him were fulfilled the words of the Psalmist: "When thou art young thou goest whither thou willest, but when thou art old another shall lead thee, and thou shalt go whither thou willest not." On the 27th of January, 1851, Jean Jacques Fougère Audubon died, before attaining his sixty-seventh year, "as gently as a child composing himself for his beautiful sleep." CHAPTER XXXVI AFTERWORD: AUDUBON'S FAMILY IN AMERICA