We are looking every moment for the return of the Cyane, under Commander Du Pont, from the Sandwich Islands, where she has been on important service. She is the water-witch of the Pacific—if ceaseless motion can claim that honor. Her commander enjoys so thoroughly the confidence and affection of his officers and crew, they go with him through all this exhausting service without a murmur. It is a happy tact that can maintain discipline and wield at any moment the whole moral and physical power of such a ship. CHAPTER XV. A CALIFORNIA PIC-NIC.—SEVENTY AND SEVENTEEN IN THE DANCE.—CHILDREN IN THE GROVE.—A CALIFORNIA BEAR-HUNT.—THE BEAR AND BULL BATED.—THE RUSSIAN’S CABBAGE HEAD. WEDNESDAY, SEPT. 22. The lovers of rural pastimes were on an early stir this morning with their pic-nic preparations. Basket after basket, freighted with ham, poultry, game, pies, and all kinds of pastry, took their course in the direction of a wood which stands three miles from town, and shades a sloping cove in the strand of the sea. The sky was without a cloud, and the brooding fog had lifted its dusky wings from the face of the bright waters. At every door the impatient steed, gayly caparisoned, was waiting his rider. Into the saddle youth and age vaulted together, while the araba rolled forward with its living freight of laughing childhood. The dogs swept on before, barking in chorus, and flaring the gay ribbon which some happy child had fastened round the neck.