We passed the mission of San José, which stands three leagues from the town. The massive proportions of the church lay in shadow, but the crowning cross was lit with the rays of the descending sun. No hum of busy streets or jocund voice of childhood saluted the ear. No eye regarded us but that of the owl gazing in wise wonder from his ivy tower. He seemed to marvel at the vanity that had brought us here; and as we hurried past on our gold destination, sent after us an ominous hoot! The purple twilight was settling fast when we reached a stream singing along between the slopes of two hills. Here we camped for the night. The grass was scanty and the ground uneven, but it was now too late to look for other spots. The dry willows, which skirted the stream, furnished us with fuel. The lid of our coffee kettle was soon trembling over the steam, while the fresh steaks, curling on the coals, scented the evening air. Our supper over, we talked of friends far away, and spread our blankets for the night. The ground was so descending I put a stone at my feet to keep from slipping down, but must have rolled from my pedestal, for on awaking at daybreak, I found myself at the foot of the slope, and close on the verge of the bubbling stream. My ground-blanket remained where it had been spread, though it seemed higher up the hill, as I clambered back to it from my somnambulic roll. TUESDAY, SEPT. 26. My companions, who had returned to San José to repack the mules, arrived at our camp about mid-day, accompanied by W. R. Garner, so long my secretary in the office of alcalde. Our own horses were soon saddled, and we were off, all the more light-hearted for this accession to our numbers. Our road lay through a rolling country covered with live-oak and pine, and through small prairies, cradled in emerald repose among the hills. It was quite dark when we reached the small farm-house of Mr. Livermore. Here we camped. A snag-fence supplied us with fuel, and Mr. L. furnished us with a sheep ready dressed. Our large camp-fire sent up its waving flame, which threw its red light over a group gathered around in every attitude which hunger and culinary care could assume. What was the howl of the wolves on the hills to us, engaged in picking the bones of that sheep? A camp-life teaches you the value of three things—meat, salt, and fire: with these you can travel the globe round.