SATURDAY, OCT. 21. Extravagant charges here are often made as offsets. A doctor of my acquaintance, wishing to remove to another cañada a few miles off, tost his machine into an empty wagon, bound in that direction, and on arriving, asked the teamster what he was to pay; the reply was a hundred dollars! which was planked down without a word. Soon after this the teamster had a grip of the cholic, from which he sought relief in two or three of the doctor’s pills. The relieved patient now asked what _he_ was to pay; the doctor, after a few moment’s abstraction, in which he seemed to be rummaging his memory more than his medicines, replied, “The charge is exactly one hundred dollars!” “Ah,” said the wagoner, “I knew that cradle would yet rock thunder at me.” But he paid the fee, and squared the account. I have been out for several hours this morning scouring a conical hill crowned with quartz. I took with me the sailor, who knocked his cup of gold out of sight by an accidental glance of his pick. We searched the hill from top to bottom, shivered the quartz on its summit, and rummaged among the fragments of the same, which the storms of ages had swept to its base, but we found no gold. Following one of the slopes which terminated in a glen, overhung with willows, and where a current had flowed, we struck into a confined basin, where we found, among the pebbles, a deposit of gold, and gathered, in the course of the day, about two ounces; with beautiful trophies we returned to camp.