Many, no doubt, remember the terrible riot that occurred in Panama, a dozen years ago, between foreigners and natives. It was occasioned by one rascally drunken passenger, who managed to raise a dispute with a fruit-vender, and concluded to settle the matter by knocking over the fruit-stand and shooting at the owner. Thus it originated: the natives making an assault on the offender, and his fellow-passengers attempting to defend him. The riot soon became general; and the military of the New Granadian Government being called out to quell the disturbance, did so by wantonly shooting down every white man that came in their way. The slaughter was fearful. It should be a warning to all coarse and reckless fools, like the originator of this difficulty, who do not know how to conduct themselves with common decency in a foreign country. CHAPTER XLVII. THE “GOLDEN CITY.” WE embarked at Panama on the steamer “Golden Age,” the same day we landed at Aspinwall, and made the passage to San Francisco in fourteen days—touching at the ports of Acapulco and Manzanillo, Mexico—coaling at the former place. The distance from Panama to San Francisco is three thousand two hundred and sixty-seven nautical miles, according to the record of our run. Manzanillo is about midway between the two places, while Acapulco is about three hundred miles nearer Panama. I will not trouble the reader with the details of this voyage, but, simply stating that we arrived in the grand harbor of San Francisco early in May, and landed early one pleasant Sunday morning, I will proceed to tell what kind of place it is, and relate what befell the redoubtable John Smith there. First, I will briefly mention the peculiarities of San Francisco, commencing with— THE CLIMATE.—In San Francisco, as well as along the whole coast of California and Oregon, the temperature of the air does not vary much during the year. There are no extremes of heat or cold. The trade winds prevail during the summer, and there is no rain except in the winter months—the period of the “rainy season.” It seldom snows or freezes—and never to any considerable extent. In the summer the thermometer seldom indicates a higher degree of temperature than eighty. This would be rather warm, but for the steady breeze that sweeps in from the broad Pacific. THE HARBOR of San Francisco has not, probably, an equal in the world. The entrance is narrow, and tall, abrupt hills stand guard on either side. This entrance is termed the “Golden Gate.” The harbor is large enough to float all the vessels in the world; it is adorned with several picturesque islands; and its shores, where not occupied with buildings, are beautiful and green, except on the south side near the entrance, where immense heaps (almost mountains) of sand are the prevailing feature.