The trail which we were following accommodated itself to the wild country through which it lay. The bold bluff and deep chasm bent it into a constant succession of quick circles and sharp angles. The head of our train was never in sight of those who occupied the rear, except when we wound over those more gradual slopes which here and there relieved the ruggedness of the landscape. We met a company of Californians about mid-day, on their return from the mines, and a more forlorn looking group never knocked at the gate of a pauper asylum. They were most of them dismounted, with rags fastened round their blistered feet, and with clubs in their hands, with which they were trying to force on their skeleton animals. They inquired for bread and meat: we had but little of either, but shared it with them. They took from one of their packs a large bag of gold, and began to shell out a pound or two in payment. We told them they were welcome; still they seemed anxious to pay, and we were obliged to be positive in our refusal. This company, as I afterwards ascertained, had with them over a hundred thousand dollars in grain gold. One of them had the largest lump that had yet been found; it weighed over twenty pounds; and he seemed almost ready to part with it for a mess of pottage. What is gold where there is nothing to eat?—the gilded fly of the angler in a troutless stream. SATURDAY, SEPT. 30. We camped last night in a forest, where a small opening let in the sun’s rays upon a plot of green grass and a sparkling spring. Our slumbers were broken in the night by the discharge of a pistol by one of our company, who saw, or thought he saw, a wolf snuffling about his blanket. We seized our arms, thinking the wild Indians were upon us, but found no enemy. It was probably the phantom of a disturbed dream. We scolded the young man soundly who gave the alarm, and turned down on the earth again to finish our night’s repose.