Nor was he less so. It was but a few days ago that he had accepted the charge of this young woman from the elder guide, who was the recognized escort of the Rightbody party, having been a former correspondent of her father's. He had been hired like any other guide, but had undertaken the task with that chivalrous enthusiasm which the average Californian always extends to the sex so rare to him. But the illusion had passed; and he had dropped into a sulky, practical sense of his situation, perhaps fraught with less danger to himself. Only when appealed to by his manhood or her weakness, he had forgotten his wounded vanity. He strode moodily ahead, dutifully breaking the path for her in the direction of the distant canyon, where Mrs. Rightbody and her friend awaited them. Miss Alice was first to speak. In this trackless, uncharted terra incognita of the passions, it is always the woman who steps out to lead the way. “You know this place very well. I suppose you have lived here long?” “Yes.” “You were not born here--no?” A long pause. “I observe they call you 'Stanislaus Joe.' Of course that is not your real name?” (Mem.--Miss Alice had never called him ANYTHING, usually prefacing any request with a languid, “O-er-er, please, mister-er-a!” explicit enough for his station.) “No.” Miss Alice (trotting after him, and bawling in his ear).--“WHAT name did you say?” The Man (doggedly).--“I don't know.” Nevertheless, when they reached the cabin, after an half-hour's buffeting with the storm, Miss Alice applied herself to her mother's escort, Mr. Ryder. “What's the name of the man who takes care of my horse?” “Stanislaus Joe,” responded Mr. Ryder. “Is that all?” “No. Sometimes he's called Joe Stanislaus.” Miss Alice (satirically).--“I suppose it's the custom here to send young ladies out with gentlemen who hide their names under an alias?” Mr. Ryder (greatly perplexed).--“Why, dear me, Miss Alice, you allers 'peared to me as a gal as was able to take keer--” Miss Alice (interrupting with a wounded, dove-like timidity).--“Oh, never mind, please!” The cabin offered but scanty accommodation to the tourists; which fact, when indignantly presented by Mrs. Rightbody, was explained by the good-humored Ryder from the circumstance that the usual hotel was only a slight affair of boards, cloth, and paper, put up during the season, and partly dismantled in the fall. “You couldn't be kept warm enough there,” he added. Nevertheless Miss Alice noticed that both Mr. Ryder and Stanislaus Joe retired there with their pipes, after having prepared the ladies' supper, with the assistance of an Indian woman, who apparently emerged from the earth at the coming of the party, and disappeared as mysteriously.