Our camp this night was in a nice watering place, where dry oak wood was
plenty and grass abundant. It was at the foot of the San Fernando
Mountain, not rocky, as we had found our road some time before, but
smooth and covered with grass. It was rather steep to climb, but an
infant compared with the great mountains so rough and barren, we had
climbed on our way from Death Valley. Our present condition and state of
mind was an anomalous one. We were happy, encouraged, grateful and quite
contented in the plenty which surrounded us, and still there was a sort
of puzzling uncertainty as to our future, the way to which seemed very
obscure. In the past we had pushed on our very best and a kind
Providence had kept us. This we did now, but still revolved the best
plans and the most fortunate possibilities in our minds. We talked of
the time when we should be able to show hospitality to our friends, and
to strangers who might need our open hand as we had needed the favors
which strangers had shown us in the last few days.
We ate our supper of good meat, with a dessert of good beans our kind
friends had given us, and enjoyed it greatly. As we sat in silence a
flock of the prettiest, most graceful birds came marching along, and
halted as if to get a better view of our party. We admired them so much
that we made not a move, but waited, and they fearlessly walked on
again. We could see that there were two which were larger than the rest,
and from twelve to twenty smaller ones.
Pages:
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309