The journey overland from the Sacramento up to the Willamette was, in 1849, one long adventure; and, on three hundred miles of the distance, that of no peaceful kind. Case had had enough of sea voyaging in going to California, and when, in the early fall, he counted over his earnings, amounting to about $2,800, he said that he would go home by land. The Indians of Northern California and Southern Oregon were hostile, being declared enemies to the whites. The Oregon men had, during the previous autumn, built a road through, making a long detour from the Rogue River Valley to the borders of Klamath Lake by the old Applegate route, and thence by Lost River and Lake, the Lava Beds, and the long plateau east of Mount Shasta, to Pitt River, and then two hundred miles across the chain of the Sierra Nevada Mountains to the Sacramento. The Indians of this region had ever been of the wildest and most warlike character, regarding white men as natural enemies. The famous Modocs were a remnant of one of these tribes. The large party of the Oregonians who had passed through the previous year had, to quite an extent, overawed the natives, especially in the Pitt River Valley. The party of Case consisted of only eight men, himself being chosen captain, and they carried some $28,000 worth of dust. Over the mountains, from the Sacramento to the Pitt River Valley, a distance of some two hundred miles, and through the Pitt River Valley, they proceeded in a leisurely manner, allowing their horses to graze at will upon the wild pea vines that grew luxuriously, and thus kept them thriving. A large number of travelers were met on the way, going to the mines, among whom was a party of strict Presbyterians from Springfield, Illinois, who always rested on the Sabbaths. It was almost universally taken by new travelers of that road that the Pitt River Valley was the main Sacramento, and they were loth to strike over the mountains as the way required. Later upon the journey, Major Warner was fallen in with, having a party of one hundred soldiers, mostly Irishmen. With this officer pleasant conversations were held. He expressed his surprise that Case should try to go through the Indian country with but eight men, while he felt unsafe with his one hundred. But Case replied that his party was the best. They all knew the Indians were like snapping dogs, that would snap and run, while Warner’s men knew nothing of Indians. The event proved only too truly Case’s estimate. Warner with his one hundred men were subsequently attacked and all were destroyed (W. M. C.). Warner also had imbibed the California idea of Oregon. He once remarked to Case, “I understand that Oregon can never be an agricultural section.” “Why?” asked Case. “The valleys are too narrow. I am told that there are few over a thousand yards wide—that gives no room for ranches.” “The Willamette Valley,” said Case, “where I live is forty miles across, not counting the foothills. That gives room for ranches.”