As we advanced the line of the horizon began to lift itself into irregular shapes, like a broken coast at sea. These emerging forms proved to be the broad tops of a belt of trees, which seemed not more than half a league distant, but which retreated as we advanced, like the bow which childhood pursues. It was a weary ride before we reached them, but the tedium of the way was relieved by several adventures among the wild geese, which hovered near our path in immense flocks. Mr. Stewart, who is an excellent shot, brought several to the ground: with these trophies we camped for the night. Some watered and tethered the animals, others gathered wood, and others ground the coffee and picked the geese. Having in our panniers a few onions and potatoes, with a piece of pork, we prepared for a stew. But our geese must have been the goslings of those that went into the ark, for neither fire nor steam could make an impression on their sinewy forms. We tried them with the puncture of our long knives; found them tough as ever, and then swung off the pot. There was enough, with bread and coffee, without the geese, and as we threw the legs and wings this way and that, an owl watched the flying fragments, as much as to say, it is an ill wind that blows nobody any good. CHAPTER XX. THE GRAVE OF A GOLD-HUNTER.—MOUNTAIN SPURS.—A COMPANY OF SONORANIANS.—A NIGHT ALARM.—FIRST VIEW OF THE MINES.—CHARACTER OF THE DEPOSITS.—A WOMAN AND HER PAN.—REMOVAL TO OTHER MINES.—WILD INDIANS AND THEIR WEAPONS.—COST OF PROVISIONS.—A PLUNGE INTO A GOLD RIVER.—MACHINES USED BY THE GOLD-DIGGERS. THURSDAY, SEPT. 28. We slept soundly last night. The sun had been up an hour before we finished our coffee and vaulted into our saddles. A short ride brought us to the San Joaquin river, which we crossed in the primitive way. We threw our saddles and packs into a boat, and then getting in ourselves, rowed off, leading at the stern one of our little mules, called Nina. The horses being driven in, followed in her wake and swam to the opposite bank. The moment they reached the shore, every one lay down and rolled, covering himself with a layer of sand. My own for once seemed to have caught the mine fever, and without waiting for the saddle, much less his rider, went snorting up the bank.