On returning to Susanville, I had the satisfaction of resuming my interrupted honey-moon, and learning from my wife in our lovingly long talks together, much about my friends, which no letter is ever voluminous enough to tell. To say the truth, letters are nothing but the headings of the chapters of life, condensed according to the peculiar temperament of the writer. Sometimes, they give scarcely any idea of the real contents. Not infrequently, they afford an unqualifiedly false index to that which they are in a measure supposed to represent. Moreover, she was far more of a woman than she had been. Self-dependence had in a measure changed her, as my life on the frontier had altered me. I had to re-study her nature, as she very certainly had to re-learn mine. There were many moments when, in spite of her love I caught her studying my face as if she was scarcely able to realize how completely the crude civilization of frontier-life had warped mine, for the better or the worse. While I, as frequently, detected myself wondering at the change a few years of absence had made in the girl I had loved well enough to tie myself to for life. Yet, I believe, the change was not an unpleasant one to either of us. At least, I may safely affirm that it was not so to me. The summer and great portion of the autumn passed but too quickly. Some few weeks of them had been spent with the boys at our mining claims on the Humboldt. Nor were we, on the whole, unsuccessful, having made a tolerably fair pile, in reward for our labor. When the autumn was nearly over, my companions went up the river as far as Gravelly Ford, with the intention of pitching their camp there for the winter. This was with the purpose of hunting and trapping. I had to keep the agreement already made with Colonel Connor. After leaving my pet bear, Charley, in the care of Butch', with whom he was almost as friendly as he was with me, I, therefore, again rejoined my wife for a brief time, while I commenced my preparations. These were prolonged until the last moment, when I was astonished by a visit from Harry Arnold and Brighton Bill, whom I had left scarcely more than a week since at Gravelly Ford. In my surprise I asked: "What, in the name of Heaven! brings you back here?" "Can't you guess, Mose?" Harry asked. "Has anything happened?" "Nothing particular." This was the reply of the previous speaker, as Bill added, with his peculiarly British pronunciation: "We've made h'up hour minds to pull h'up stakes and join you." "What do you really mean?" The question was far from an unnatural one. My engagement with the Colonel had been repeatedly talked over with the boys when they were present. Neither of them, up to this time, had displayed the slightest indication of a desire to accompany me. "To henlist with hour Cap!" exclaimed Bill. "That's exactly what we mean."