Nov. 10th. For the last time, I have just climbed the mountain above Hart’s Bar. On looking back, below me is spread out the narrow, winding valley, between its two mountains, widening at that point into an extensive bar, through which, on account of the many dams, canals, and other obstructions, the tortured river seems to have infinite difficulty in forcing its way. There is also the collection of tents, and the miners engaged in cooking, and collected in small groups about their camp-fires, for it is a cool morning. There stand the wrecks of our aqueduct and canal; the bare half channel of the river, and the surface of the bar scarred and pitted over. There is the scene of my labors for long months. There is my own arbor, and its last fire still smoking; and there our place of worship; and lower down is where our company meetings were held. And there are the graves of our lost companions. But I must break from these scenes of disappointment and sadness--of broken hopes and broken hearts--and, invoking the blessing of a kind and gracious Father in heaven upon myself and those left behind, direct my steps to San Francisco. On the road, where before there were only tents or rude arbors, are now some frame buildings. And it was cause of surprise to see the great number of wagons and mule-trains, heavily laden for the mines. Where were to be found consumers for all this? Then came the news-man, with almost a mule-load of New York Heralds. I had come alone, and entirely unarmed, and it was a source of amusement to me to meet the emigrants on their way to the mines, completely armed. A mile out from Stockton, I met a Frenchman, armed with a double hunting-gun, pistols, dirk, &c., who came up to me, looking carefully on this side and on that, and inquired anxiously, “Is there any danger about the bear?” He seemed surprised when I told him I had come down from the mines alone and unarmed; that on my way across the plain I had seen a few elk and deer, and immense herds of antelope. At Stockton I received letters from home of three months’ later date; and the same evening left, in one of the river steamers, for San Francisco, where I arrived early the next morning. CHAPTER VI. SAN FRANCISCO. GENERAL ESTIMATE OF GAINS--RETURN TO PHILADELPHIA.