Alas, for poor Stormy! It proved the last intoxication of his life! The story of his death is too sad to be dismissed in a few words; and when heard, will doubtless be thought deserving of the "full and particular" account here given of it. I record the facts, in all the exactitude and minuteness, with which memory has supplied them to myself. At that time there was staying in Jacksonville a man known by the name, or soubriquet, of "Red Ned." I had casually heard of the man, though I had not seen him, as he had only arrived in the place a few days before; and was stopping at one of the gambling taverns, with which that mining village was abundantly provided. I had heard that Red Ned was a "dangerous man,"--a title of which he was no little vain; and, probably, ever since his arrival in the place, he had been looking for an opportunity of distinguishing himself by some deed of violence. In my wanderings over the world I have encountered many of those men known as "bullies." Notwithstanding the infamy attached to the appellation, I have found some of them--perhaps unfortunately for themselves--endowed with genuine courage, while others were mere cowardly wretches--ever seeking to keep up their spurious reputation, by such opportunities as are offered in quarrelling with half-grown lads, and men under the influence of drink. Such swaggerers may be met with in all parts of the world; but nowhere in such numbers, as in California--which for a country so thinly peopled, appears to be more than ordinarily afflicted with the propensity for "bullyism." At least, it was so, at the period of which I am writing. At that time, a man, who was known to have killed three or four of his fellow-creatures, was looked upon with admiration by many, with fear by as many more, and with abhorrence by a very few indeed. Quarrels in California, three times out of every four, terminated fatally for one or other of the combatants; and the survivor of several such sanguinary affairs was certain to obtain among his fellows a reputation of some kind--whether of good or evil--and for this, unhappily, the majority of mankind are but too eager to strive. Where society exists in a state of half civilisation--such as was that of California fifteen years ago--it is not so strange that many should be met, who prefer having the reputation of a bully to having no reputation at all. It was the unfortunate fate of my old comrade, to encounter one of these contemptible creatures--who combine the bully with the coward--in the person of Red Ned. Stormy, after giving up the calling of the chase, had found himself once more afloat, and in search of some business that would be more suited to his tastes and abilities. While beating about, as already stated, he had once more given way to his unfortunate propensity for strong drink; and had got intoxicated both in his mind and his limbs.