The country to which we wished to go is now Sonoma County, Cal., of which Santa Rosa is the county seat. In fact the region is now called Santa Rosa Valley, and it is well named, for it is a great garden of roses and other beautiful flowers that grow indigenously and in luxurious profusion. At the head of the valley are the famous geysers of California. The Colonel, after dividing the horses with me, started for the Fort, I agreeing to join him there in a few weeks for the hunt. After remaining at Jim Beckwith's for a few days, he and a gentleman from Sacramento came to a trade, Jim selling out "slick and clean." Jim had too much money to stay in the mountains. I saw $12,000 weighed out to him in gold-dust, and I don't know how much coin he had, but there were several thousand dollars of it. "Now we will go to San Francisco for the winter," said he, "and will have a good time. You stay with me this winter, and it shan't cost you a cent." We took our horses and started for Sacramento, making the trip in four days Here we boarded a boat for the bay. In those days persons speaking of going to San Francisco, always spoke of it as "going to the bay." The second morning after our arrival, I found at the feed-yard, where my horses were, a gentleman awaiting my arrival, who wanted to buy my stock. I sold all of the horses to him except Mexico and Pinto--they were not for sale at any figure. I stayed around the city for two weeks, until it became monotonous. Jim Beckwith had lots of money, and it looked to me as though he wanted to get rid of it--as soon as possible. He would get just so full every day, and when he was full of whiskey his tongue appeared to be loose at both ends. It now being the first of December, I saddled my horse and rode out to the Fort, and on arriving there I found all anxious for the hunt. Col. Elliott had been talking the matter up among them. It took about three days to prepare for the trip, and I kept hurrying them up, all that was in my power, for I did not want to fool around there until the good ladies took it in their heads to have another dance, as it was not a dance that I was hunting. I had had enough of that on my other visit to satisfy me for some time to come. CHAPTER XV. A HUNT ON PETALUMA CREEK.--ELK FEVER BREAKS OUT.--THE EXPEDITION TO KLAMATH LAKE.--A LIVELY BRUSH WITH MODOC INDIANS. The hunting party made up at the Fort was ready early in December, and we pulled out, promising to be home by New Year's day, at the latest. At this time there were no steamers running across the bay in the direction we wished to go, so we hired a tug to take us over to the mouth of Petaluma creek, near which we proposed to pitch our hunting camp. Here was live-oak timber, with now and then a redwood, and in places the chapparal was thick, and there was no end to deer sign.