The coyotes, or small wolves, and the grey or tree climbing foxes of California, make a kind of barking noise, more like the bark of a small dog than the howl of a wolf; and therefore barking is not so much of “_an acquired_” art as has been supposed, though the “laughter” of dogs is more or less acquired. The whistle of the elk is as complete a call to his mistress, and is as well understood, as though the female had said, “Whistle and I’ll come to you.” Elk and antelope are still to be found in California, as well as wild horses, but they are now quite timid, and resort to unfrequented ranges. The best hunting now to be found in California, except for water-fowl, is in the region of Kern River. Near its source big-horn or mountain sheep may be killed, and from along the base of the eastern slope, antelope range into the desert. Deer and bear may be found on either slope of the range, and among the broken hills south of the head of Tulare valley. Wolves, foxes, badgers, coons, and other fur-clothed animals, are also quite numerous. I have _dared_ to question some of Mr. Darwin’s facts, and as I expect this to be my last literary effort (oh, ye reviewers!), I wish to remind the publishers of Webster’s Dictionary that a beaver is not an “_amphibious_” animal, neither is a muscalonge “an overgrown pickerel.” A few days after we had moved camp to the south side of the Merced, Captain Boling was prostrated with an attack of pneumonia. From frequent wettings received while crossing the ice-cold torrents, and a too free use of this snow-water, which did not agree with many, he had for some days complained of slight illness, but after this attack he was compelled to acknowledge himself sick. Although the severe symptoms continued but a few days, his recovery was lingering, and confined him to camp; consequently he knew but little of his rocky surroundings. Although regular reports were made to him by the scouting parties, he had but an imperfect conception of the labors performed by them in clambering over the rocks of the cañons and mountains. He would smile at the reports the more enthusiastic gave of the wonders discovered; patiently listen to the complaints of the more practical at their want of success in, what they termed, their futile explorations; and finally concluded to suspend operations until the fast-melting snow had so disappeared from the high mountain passes as to permit our taking a supply-train, in order to make our search thorough. The winter had been an unusually dry and cold one--so said the Indians--and, as a consequence, the accumulations of snow in the passes and lake basins had remained almost intact. A succession of mountain storms added to the drifts, so that when the snow finally began to melt, the volume of water coming from the “High Sierras” was simply prodigious--out of all proportion to the quantity that had fallen upon the plains below.