The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, July 14, 1895, Page 22

22 THE ERy o 'f. A deep basin in the dry bed of a moun- tain stream that, years ago, came tearing down the mountainside and just here took a mighty leap over the soft slate rock and, cutting its way through the stone, | had, as time pas: basin. Straight _up on two sides beetled and frowned, in almost unscala- ble precipices. On the third side the rocks shot heavenward, over which the rushing torrent had formerly taken its famous leaps in the days before the hydraulickers had di- verted the stream to the scene of the min- ing operations, halfway across the range. The lower end of the basin was open, and, following the rocky bed of the original stream, a good climber could, a score of years ago, come out in time at the dry diggings some ten miles below. Before the ancient torrent had taken its final plunge down the two hundred feet or more of perpendicular cliff it had appar- ently essayed a series of smaller ones, cut- ting its way for each one over a range of picturesque stone terraces, rising one above another like the seats of an amphi- theater, only it would need to have been | an amphitheater for the gods, builded in the days when there were giants in the land. On the last one of these terracesone bright October afternoon in the early six- a family party was basking in the delicious autumn sunlight that, sifting through the tall redwoods and madronos, picked out an exquisite carpet in brown and gold and slatey blue, where the bright rays cast leafy shadows upon the rocks and their covering of brown needles and leaves. The members of this family party of three were sucking their paws, licking their chops and grumbling, amicably, over the remains of a plump young porker of which Papa Grizzly had maraged to de- spoil the sty of some unlucky dweller in the mountain fastnesses. It had been a articularly plump young porker, and apaand Mamma Grizzly and little Hiram were in the best of spirits as they sunned themselves on the rocky ledge and listened to the provider’s tale of how he had torn down the strong logs of the corral and made off with his booty in the wee small hours, dragging it for miles through the brush and tangle, before the settler could get his wits together and mend the pen sufficiently to keep in the rest of his herd while he should go in search of the ma- rauder. As he continued the narrative of his prowess there appeared, entering the basin | from the stream below. two men, evidently miners, clad in red shirtsand blue jeans tucked into the tops of their heavy boots, and carrying Winchesters. The family party on the ledge above paused in 1ts choplickings and self-ex- ploitation and calmly surveyed the new- * comers. “Gosh! what a shot,”’ exclaimed Long Tim Simpson, bringing his rifle to his shoulder. He fired hastily, scarcely taking aim, and missed. “Time for us to be leaving,” said Papa Grizzly, retiring, as the playwrights say, “up the stage,” followed by Mamma Horidi: bus in good order. But little Hiram being but a cub without the knowledge of man in his brain or the fear of Winchesters in his heart, lingered behind, and approach- ing the edge of the shelving rock reared and stood gazing curiously §0un at the intruders and the stick that made such a queer noise, As he watched them Long Tim brought his rifle to position again and fired, not killing little Hiram outright, but wounding him in his round little stomach, where be had just tucked awayv such a comfortable portion of a vlump porker. The cub still knew not enough ~ to retire, but stood rub- bing the wound with' his paws and crying pitifully, whereupon Mamma Grizzly re- traced her steps and taking him in her arms was retiring, walking upon ber hind legs, when Joe Derrick, Long Tim’s com- panion, raised hisrifle and aimed a bullet at her exposed broadside. The shot took effect in her great shoul- der. She reeled, staggered, and then came plunging heavily, cub and all, down into the basin. “She’s done for, sure,’”” said Joe, and the two men waited till her death struggle should be over before approaching. Instead of dying, however, she began 1o paw over and smell her cub, who, it was evident even to the men at a distance, was uite dead. She herself was bleeding pro- usely from a gaping wound in her shoul- der, and they looked to see her follow the cub in a very few moments. Suddenly she turned and with a savage grow! charged down upon the two miners. They separated, each making for the near- est place of what appeared to be safety. Joe sprang for a spur of rock that afforded a precarious foothold, and inch by inch at- tained a narrow ledge that jutted out from the face of the precipice. tion catching it, as he climbed, bad ‘cut | his leather belt clean in two, and it fell, :;Lh his trusty pistol, upon the floor of the sin. Long Tim was not so fortunate. Hehad | started down the course of the stream, to | where he remembered a giant redwood | grew, but before he could get out of the asin his foot caught in a crevice of the rocky floor and he was thrown down, wrenching and spraining his ankle. Before he could rise the bear was upon him and had seized him through the right arm and shoulder in_ her fierce white | teeth. Pain, rage, grief were all to be | avenged, and she mauled and chewed the helplessminer as a cat would play with a mouse. He madea vain effort to reach his knife, but his right arm was gripped fast 1n_the brute's jaws and his left had been npfped from shoulder to wrist by one sweep of a single formidable claw. From his safe perch on the rocky ledge Joe Der- rick saw his companion being reduced to mincemeat, but reflected that, to use his own phrase, he was *‘done for anyhow,’’ and to descend would only be to bring vengeance upon hisown head, so he awaited developments. _Suddenly, giving Tim a fling that threw him, nearly dead, back upon the rocky floor of the basin, the bear ran back to her cub and began again to turn it over and smell it, moaning pitifully. *‘Shoot her, Joe, yer dog-goned fool,”” lufed Tim in a hoarse whisper. “Ican’t, damn all creation. My rifle’s the cliffs | h e e had dropped | hisrifle in jumping, and a rocky projec- | | parentl | below and my blasted gunbelt busted and fell inter a gulch down yander. Git yer rifle out an’ shoot her.” ©I can’t move a finger, “Every bone in me’s broke.” Disturbed by the whispers the brute [ » gasped Tim. | sed, hewn out this great | stopped sniffing at her cub and made a growling feint toward where Tim lay. Seeing that he was motionless, however, she returned to her cub, licking it and try- | ing to raise it, but unable to do so on ac- count of the wound in her bleeding shoul- | der. “Come down here, ye cussed coward, an’ git ver gun,” groaned Tim., Thus adjured, Joe came a few stepsdown the rock, but the bear gave a warning growl and a start in his direction that sent him back to his secure ledge. “T can’t git it without her springin’ onter me,”” he exclaimed. “They’s no kinder use my gittin’ chewed up, Tim, ’twon’t | help you any.”” With a muttered curse | Tim turned his head and as he did so saw that Joe was making his way cautiously to a higher shelf of rock. “What in thunder are you doing?”’ he | demanded. Joe paused, shamefacedly. “I was thinkin’ I cud git out this way an’ bring ye help from camp,” he muttered. Tim cursed him under his breath, fora sneak and a coward, and ended by declar- | ing that if he moved another step up the | rock or attempted to leave him he would, if he ever got out of that hole, blow him on sight into kingdom come, with nevera chance to say a prayer before he left. Then | again he begged of him to descend for his rifle and shoot the bear. The fellow, however, was too great a coward. Crouched upon his ledge of rock he swore not to desert his friend, but de- scend into that deathpit he could not and would not. *‘She’ll quit smelling her cub in a minnit more an’ come at us again,”’ whispered Tim in agonized remembrance of the maul- ing he %md received. ‘‘Fer God’s sake come down. If she kills me I'll hant ver ter yer dying day.” . : But even this ghostly threat failed to conquer the coward’s terror, and he re- mained upon his perch. Then Tim en- deavored to buy his action. He of- fered him his miner’s kit, his . claim, the bag of dust hidden in a cer- tain corner of his cabin hearth, but | the fellow still cowered uron his ledge, the grizzly’s occasional growls counterbalanc- ing every appeal to his sense of shame, his professed friendship and his cupidity. The 'short autumn afternoon was wearing to an end. The wind blew chill up the ravine and, half naked and torn all but limb from limb, Tim renewed his en- treaties. After several ineffectual efforts to_raise her cub, the grizzly had finally laid down beside it, only occasionally rais- ing her head to look around her and | growl. She had not done even this for nearly an hour. “I b’lieve the old brute’s dead, Joe,” spered Tim. *“Come on down.” But Joe still declined to run into danger. “Throw something down at her, then, ye cussed sneak,” roarea Tim, grown fearless through desperation, *‘an’ see if she ain’t dead.” But even this his companion hesitated to do, lest stung to renewed fury the creature arise and make a fresh attack on Tim. Another hour wore by, and the grizzly lay motionless, unheeding their voices, ap- y sunk in slumber. “Don’t you tell me she’s asleep,”” mut- tered Joe—“a bar don't sleep like that be- side a dead cub. She's just waitin’ fer me ter put in an appearance an’then she’ll chaw me up. She’s had enough o’ you. I know the critturs.” But at last when Tim had promised him the coveted bag of dustif he would but do it, he ventured to creep along the ledge and drop a stone upon thecreature. *You see, she dead—died o’ that wound er the tum- ble,” said Tim. *Come down an’ put an- other bullet in her an’ satisfy yerself. Oh, ye cussed coward, you—" as Joe still hesi- tated. “Come on, come on, or before God T’ll git up thar myself an’ heave you over onter her back.” . Despite the evident futility of this threat it moved Joe to action; or it may have been the fact which Tim could not observe, but which he could note from his height, that two buzzards bad alighted in a tall redwood and were preparing to descend upon the carcass of the bear that gave him courage. Atall events he crept coftly down the rock and presently glincdgxiltifla where | valor in stoning the bear before hé de- THE SAN FRANCISCO CALL, SUNDAY, JULY 14, 1895. it had fallen. Taking aim he sent a bullet into the great black head. There was no struggle or motion of the huge body. Then going forward he stooped over. The creature was rapidly growing cold in death. Taking Tim’s knife he hastily skinned the brute, and, wrapping his friend in the still warm hide, dragged him, between groans and curses, to a sheltered crevice in the rocks, and leaving him with a rifle and a flask of whisky beside him, hastened down the ravine after aid. The moon, whieh had risen soon after Joe started, was setting, when half a dozen miners from the gulch below picked up their wounded comrade, and by easy stages bore him, niore dead than alive, to his cabin in the little mining camp. Long be- | fore he was out of the delirium of the Fever that followed his adventure, Joe Derrick | had pulled up stakes and departed, not neglecting to take from its hiding-place the little bag of dust he had earned by his scended to the rescue of his companion in peril. FROR T T NP e S e Tt was twenty years after his unfortunate attendance upon Papa Grizzly’s family party when, on just such an early October afternoon as that had been, Long Tim Simfiaon sat in the door of his cabin smok- ing his short clay pipe and gazing down upon the roofs ‘of his neighbors’ more palatial residences all around him. He could literally gaze upon their roofs. Despite the fact that his tiny, almost tumble-down cabin, was the smallest and most insignificant home in all Azalea, it commantfecl the finest outlook in the town. It was, in fact, the only bit of land thereabouts that had not been gone over and leveled down and washed out by pros- pecting owners, for Azalea had grown up on the site of an old mining settlement and lay, moreover, directly in the line of wash from an abandoned ledge which the hydraulickers bad long since exhausted | for their particular method of operation. As Long Tim's was the last of the town holdings that had escaped the periodic overhauling of the settlers, so he was him- | self the snlge survivor of the red-shirted, | hard-working, hard-living poSnlamon who { been the first human invaders of Silly Horse Gulch. With but one arm and only two_fingers upon his remaining hand, a broken leg that had “never set straight,” and a body bearing on nearly every square inch of surface the marks of teeth and claws left by an infuriated grizzly, Long Tim's career as a miner had necessarily come to an end. He had managed, after’a fashion, to extract a little pay dirt from his claim, but had eventually been forced to sell out to his partner and settle himself on a bit ot leval latesutiwiiere! Kin¥gondonatured chums put him up a first-class shanty, as shanties went in_Silly Horse Gulch, and he laid out with infinite toil something less than an acre of garden patch, which he called the Grub Stake claim. Here he could putter and scratch about more or less successfully, raising young onions and potatoes and queer snatches of other truck chin gave him an unkempt look, and he was not a pleasant object to pehol&. “You shouldn’t lay a misfortune l’ik.e that up agin a feller, Tim. There wa'n't nothin’ I ¢'d do fer yer. 1f I'd come down inter the basin an’ got chawed up they’d a bin no one ter git help ter yer.” > ““No, ner no one ter light out with all I'd cleaned up fer six months, neither.” Joe flushed. P “I earned that honest, Tim,” he said. Tim smoked on and made no reply. The newcomer laid a hand upon the gate as though to enter. *‘Don’t yer dare set yer cowardly foot on that there walk, Joe Derrick,”’ said Tim, and he desisted. He still remained at the gate, however, pleading with the silent cripple. He told him how he had heard of his residence in the town and had made the trip to Azalea ondpur ose to see him and the old places and talk over old times. “T allers liked ye, Tim,” he said seduc- tively, but Tim smoked on in silence until his pipe was empty, then, rising, he turned and limped into the house, shutting the door behind him. ; It was perhaps a fortnight later when one bright moonlight night, as he was pre- paring to retire, he saw the fizureof a man at work in a far corner of his squash patch. “Eh!” he muttered to himself, “stealin’ punkins, are ye? Much good may they do ye—the ornery things ain’t worth the cullin’ this year,” and he was turning in when the figure straightened up, in the moonlight and he recognized Joe Derrick. “Turnips an’ buckwheat!” exclaimed Tim to himself. “Now, what in thunder is that derned cuss a prowlin’ round the | Grub Stake claim fer? Thet's what I want ter know."” He was debatingfwhat he had better do when, suddenly, as though taking alarm at something, the man sprang over the | fence and disappeared in the shadow. As he did so Tim saw that he carried a shovel and pick and a deep, broad basket, which, however, seemed empty. ““What in —-" the watcher began, and | then stopped suddenly. “Why, the derned sneak !” he added, still gazingin the direc- tion whence his visitor had disappeared. At last his silence was broken by a chuckle. “That’ll do it,”’ he cried, snap- ing his two remaining fingers gleefully. “T'll do it termorrer, sure’s I'm what's left of a man.” He lay awake in his bunk the greater | part of the night, chuckling at intervals in a mighty convulsion of eniaymem, Only once did he speak coherently, and to any | casual_listener his remark would have seemed in the highest degree enigmatic. “I'll take some of the rainy-day pile,” he said; “but I reckon the pile can stand the strain,”” and then, his chuckle ending in a snore, he fell asleep. Bright and early next morning he was busy digging in the vicinity of the squash patch, and long before the first early passers had begun their day’s work he haa apparently fixed things up to his own sat- isfaction. “It'll look nat’ral as new milk by moon- light,” he declared, surveying his work, and then he went quietfy about his wonted pursuits. that, poor though they were, were eagerly bought by the others, and for a year or two Timjflourished as a; market gardener. Later on when the “dry diggings” went (Sketched by a ¢ WHAT IN THUNDER ARE YE DOIN’?” Watching, that night, one might have | wondered at the extreme delight he mani- | fested while watching his whilom chum HE DEMANDED. “ Call” artist.] 100 dry for profit, and the mining popula- tion drifted away. he still lingered, for his traveling days were over, and as time wore on he saw the mountainside settled by farming folks, who mined their gold from fields of waving grain or gathered it from orchard and vineyard, while about the | settlement grew up a prosperous town, which prided itself upon its climate and its citrus belt, and boasted a fine school- house, two churches. onl{ brick jail in the county and a political job of the first mag- nitude. Through all ‘these changes Tim pursued the uneventful course of his maimed existence, always managing to eke out a living, albeit getting, year.in and year out, no very great lmonnl of pork for his shilling. For Tim was undoubtedly shiftless, even for a cripple. It was the verdict of his townsmen, too, that he was wholly with- out ambition. He always steadfastly re- fused every proposition looking toward washing out his ‘‘Grub Stake ciaim,” and clung to his little shanty with a perti- nacity as provoking as it was unreasonable, alleging as excuse therefor that ‘‘the boys” | had put up the ranch and staked off the claim for him, and it should remain as it stood to the day of his death. 8o, too, he refused all overtures from would-be pur- chasers, and his claim, which, though the countryside came to be reputed as literally “‘'streaked with pay dirt,” came to be an object of interested speculation for miles around. “Rich as old Tim Simpson’s Grub Stake claim” was a favorite compari- son among his neighbors, and on the strength of this wealth, which was “‘bound ter be some one’s after his death,” Tim was the recipient of many a friendly office from those who sought his favor. On this particular October afternoon, as Tim sat smoking his short clay pipe and n_mnfi down upon the house roofs about im, his idle attention was caught by the approaching form of a stranger, who came up the main street, stopping now and then to look about him curiously, as one In search of old landmarks. There was some- thing about his walk and figure that seemed singularly familiar to Tim,.watch- ing him from his cabin door, but it was not until the stranger had reached his little gate and leaning over it, looked at him with eyes of recognition, that the man's identity flashed upon him. *Don’t ye know an old chum, Tim?"” the néewcomer asked. ‘Know yer, yer ornery, cowardly var- mint,” said Tim, “I sh'd think I did know yer, Joe Derrick. What yer runnin’ away from now, that ye show up in these here diggin’s?’ The man winced and moved uneasily from one foot to the other. He was shab- bily dressed, and had light, shifty, faded blue eyes. A week’s stubble on his heavy and comrade busily digging about his premises, first in one place then in an- other, until he had filled his good-sized basket apparently with nothing more de- sirable than the heavy black adobe, which formed the Grub_ Stake claim. Why one should dig up adobe by moonlight was a matter sufficient to excite curiosity in an mind, but that the owner of that soil should be in apparent ecstacies of glee over the invasion of his premises certainly seemed to heighten the mystery. It was latein the next afternoon when Joe Derrick, as_was his frequem custom, walked pensively past Tim’s gate, appar- ently engrossed in the surrounding land- scape. It so happened that Tim appeared in the door just at this juncture and, to Derrick’s amaze, hailed him. The latter could scarcely believe his senses when, as in answer to the cripple’s invitation, he entered the inclosure and approached the house, Tim said: “T’ve bin thinkin’ I was too hard on ye, Joe. There ain't no use holdin’ old grudges. Set here an’ have a light.”’ Derrick was more than willing, and soon the two ancient companions were smoking together in amicable discussion of old times. Tim’s story was soon told, and Joe's narrative of varying unsuccess was not so lengthy but that, ere long, the latter had deftly shifted the conversation around to Tim’s prospects, and the Grub Stake claim. “Ye oughter to wash it out, Tim,” he said. “They’s likely ter be pay dirt all through it.”” “I s'pose so0,” Tim said, meditatively, “‘but I hate to tech the old place, Joe. It's jest as the boys fixed it up for me, an’ I recken it 'll last my time. Pervidin’ I don’t fetch up on the county first,” he added. “As a rub-stake claim it's purty well played. n fact, 'tain’t pay dirt by a little bit, an’ T ain't even as good as I uster ter be when it comes ter work. There wuz a chap down below, now—'’ speaking slowly, and watching Joe as he did so from the corner of his eye, ‘‘thet wanted ter keep me in clover fer the rest of m life, fer the sake o’ werkin’ the Gru Stake fer washin’s, but he wanted ter do it quick off, an’ I don’t want no change while I'm alive. I offered ter make him a deed for the place when I wuz dead, but he wuz out for the mejiate stuff.” Joe gave an eager startand then con- trolled himself. ‘*Seems to me that there last ez a fair nuff proposition fer a helthy man,” he said, conteniplatively. ‘“¥es,” Tim continued. *“Fact is, Joe,” confidentially, “I ain’t long fer this earth. ’Tain’t that I'm half chawed up on the out- side, alone, but I'm turrible gone in my inwards, Ishedn’t wonder’f 1'd go any time—they’ll find me dead in my bunk one of these days. , Work’s comin’ to turrible hard on me, and I’m gettin’ old.” ‘‘Pshaw,” said Joe, ‘“yer only a little older'n me, Tim. Yer good fer twenty ear yet,” and he endeavored to inspire im with confidence. X The latter, however, was in an unmis- takably despondent mood, and not to be cheered up. The conference of the friends continued until late in the evening, and its scene was removed from the doorstone to the one room of the cabin, ere the two came to a singular agreement. The terms were very plain. Tim laid them down between the violent fits of coughing that from time to time shook his frame. He was togive up work—the Grub Stake claim was to remain untouched. _Even the garden-patch was to be un- tilied. Joe was to support him. “I ain’t long for the earth,’” he said, with a strangling cough, “and I want ter keep the place ez the boys left it. Noone but me't as ever done a lick of the spade on it.”” A peculiar gleam shone in Joe’s eyes at this :speech, but he only assented eagerly to Tim’'s words. It was all settled before Joe bade his ?artner good-night, and on the morrow, at oe’s suggestion, the two repaired to the onenotary in the town and theiragreement was duly drawn up and signed. By its terms Joe agreed to maintain Tim for the remaining years of hislife, and in consider- | ation was fo have the Grub Stake claim at the latter’s death. ‘‘You ought to keep the old man well,” the notary said, as_he certified to the %ig- e natures; ‘“‘you're being well paid. T (irub'szake claim wifi prove good pick- ings.” ; Joe grinned and the partners took their eave. “Mighty good Pickin‘s,” Tim chuckled to himself, “‘that’s right. ‘‘Oh, the rum- mest good pickin’s ever a feller went any- wheres. A good time ve’ll hev a-pickin’ ’em, Joe Derrick,” and his chuckle changed to a growl of vengeful hatred as he tum- bled into his bunk. From that day Long Tim was, as he ex- pressea it, “in clover.” Judged by almost any ordinary standard his wants were simple and not many, but such as they were they were more than enough to tax the rather slender resources of Joe Derrick, and Tim 1nsisted upon hav- ing them all met. Joe went to work in the town as a day- laborer, and whether he had the necessar- | ies of life or went without, Tim’s bacon and corn-meal, tobacco and old rye neve failed to be forthcoming. Tim’s wood- box was always full and there was al- ways oil in hisold tin lamp. The entire | town knew of Joe’s bargain, and would have been speedily aware of any dereliction on his part. For Tim spared him in no particular. The story of the adventure in the rocky | basin was known to every man, woman and child in Azalea, and publicly and | privately Tim held him up to execration asa coward and a sneak. He forbade him from setting foot upon the Grub Stake claim, nor would he hold any communi- cation with him save through the medium of the village storekeeper, who supplied the cripple’s wants and looked to Joe for ayment. Only the rich probabilities | idden beneath the black adobe of the “claim” kept the latter from throw- ing up his contract and leaving the place. The ‘““claim” was now overgrown with weeds—unkempt, untilled, and, with its wretched cabin, became more than ever a conspicuous object in the landscape, an a source of curious questioning from strangers. Undoubt- edly the claim would prove rich. Great washings had cropped out in spots all through the town and Tim’s bad been the only place untouched. It was hard on Joe, but he would be well paid. Besides he owed it to Tim—and then would follow the story of the encoun- ! ter with the grizzly and Joe’s cowardice. Thus matters went on for several years, but even spite cannot keep a man alive forever, and for years it had seemed as though every month must be Tim’s last, by so frail a tenure did he seem to hold life. Death came to him at last and he was found lifeless in his bunk one morning by the storekeever’s boy, who brought sup- plies that he had ordered the day before. Under his pillow was a little Eackaga di- rected to the notary who had drawn up the agreement between him and Joe. It was taken to the official by a group of townsmen of whom Derrick was one. There was a small bag of golddust in the box and a rudely scrawled letter addressed to the notary. “This iz fer you ter keep,” the letter read. ‘It iz what the boys left me when they went off. The rest went to salt down ther place where Joe Derrick prospected ther grub Stake claim the night he dident know I wauz watchin. And the Grub Stake claim proved to be literally what Tim had dubbed it when he had said once “Thar’s nothin’ thar but grub—grub ter be got by grubbin’ fer it.” The ways of gold deposits are past find- ing out, and the ‘‘pay dirt” that had found lodgement upon so many neighboring holdings had, as Long Tim well knew through years of laborious tilling, passed by the Grub Stake claim. T. S1mpsoN.”” His Starched Pajamas. “Our laundress,” said a man in an ele- vated train yesterday, ‘“insisted upon starching my pajamas so stiff that I found it impossible to wear. them. I suspected that perhaps she thought they were used on a #nnis court or as a bicycle suir, so 1 called her attention to the mistake.” “Well, boss,”” she said, ‘I "clar I thought you wore 'em to breakfast.”—New York vening Sun. Of an ideal vacation consists of lots of comfort without auy work or c: The other for delightful outdoor and indoor recre- pastimes. 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BOARDERS TAKEN DURING THE SUNMER T RANCH IN THE COUNTRY: FINE OR- | insects; first-class se; HIGHLAND SPRINGS, ON THE BORDER OF CLEAR LAKE, Inalkxe County, Cal. O YOU ENJOY A SUPERB CLIMATE, dancing, lawn tennis, crocuet, billlards? Do ou like fine bathing, boating, hunting and fishing? o you need recuperation and rest afforded by over route into Lake County. All this and more can be had at Highland rings. "New hotel. Finest dining-room north of San Francisco. From San Francisco it costs only 88 for_the round trip, and the hotel rates are $1 50 to $2 50 er day or $10 to 816 per week. Take the 8. F, Ena N P. Rallway via Pleta, thence by & short delightful stage ride. i s 1. CRAIG, Manager. San Francisco office, 316 Montgomery st. SKAGES HOT SPRINGS, SONOMA COUNTY, CAL.. JOHN F. MULGREW, PROPRIETOR. NLY 415 HOURS FROM SAN FRANCISCO and but 1 hour's staging: temperature of water 125 deg. Fahrenheit, famous for its medicinal prop- erties; tub and plunge baths: good hunting and no better trout streams in the -‘lll“!:d n?h":“ln‘l:‘odyl;; ence of mosquitos and_othe: staa; et reice. Round trip from San Francisco, 85 50. Take Tiburon Ferry at 7:40 A. . or 8:30 ». 1, connecting with stages at Geyserville. Terms: $2aday; $12to $14 a week. ‘Write for clrcular. GEO. J. CASANOVA, Manager. FISHERMEN! HE HEADQUARTERS FOR ANGLERS AND thelr families is at the BOCA HOTEL, BOCA, CAL. The best part of the Truckee River close at hand. An excellent table and newly fitted rooms. A daily stage leaves the hotel for LAKE INDEPENDENCE, Now Is the time to 1 The queen of mountain lakes. y-fish this grand lake. Average caich, Tout per day. For Information ard rates address JAS. McDONALD, Boca, Cal. PARAISO HOT SPRINGS, Monterey County, Cal. HE CLEANEST AND MOST PLEASANT RESORT ON THE COAST. TABLE UNSURPASSED. Most Healing Waters Known in America. ts dally at Soledad with 8:15 A. M. lt:tn”ffllvol:lnel":l:d and Townsend streets. Only 7 miles staging. ¥or terms ade R/ ROBERTSON, Mi T ger. THE STRICTLY TEMPERANCE RESORT, /8 NOW OPIEN. UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. HE GEM OF ALL RESORTS, CAZADERO Fotel and cottages, in the heart of the Sonoma redwoods. Terminus N. P. C. R. R., via Sausalito ferry. Terms reasonable. For particulars address C. E, , Manager, Cazadero, Cal. PACIFIC O0CEAN HOUSE, THE LEADING HOTEL IN THE CITY OF SANTA CRUZ. GOOD TABLE. CLEAN ROOMS. PRICES REASONABLE. FIRST CLASS IN EVERY RESPECT, JOHN R. CHASE, Proprietor. BEAUTIFUL BELMONT! RALSTON HOUSE. NEW HOTEL, NEW FURNITORE-NOW open. Terms moderate. Persons intending to Visit the country during the Summer months will find 1t to their ‘advantage to inspect the Ralston House before locating elsewhere. J. D. HEAGERTY, Proprietor. BERTRAND HOTEL, TOCALOMA. CONT. NEW FIRST-OLASS HOTEL, CONTAIN- ing 42 rooms, handsomeiy furnished and fitted ap with all the latest improvements: gas, water, Iarge dancing-hall, billiard-rooms. croguet grounds, swings, etc.: delightful climate, fine trout fishing, unting: splendid drives 'to ' Bear Valley. et Terms, $8 to $12 per week: speclal rates to fami- lies. JOS. F. BERTRAND, Proprietor, Tocaloma. CAMP TAYLOR RESORT OW OPEN UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT. I\ Best accommodations for families and private parties: terms, from $8 to $1% per week. Tents and cottages for rent, with or without board. Fine fishing, boating, bathing, etc.: stable at the hotel; splendid arive, connecting with Toca- lomu and Bear Valley. BERTRAND & KRAUSS. City office for Tocaloma and Camp Taylor, 337 Bush streot. MADRONE SPRINGS Santa Clara County. A MOUNTAIN' RESORT; ELEVATION 2200 feet; inner coast range: 10 miles south of Lick Observatory: best mineral water in United States for cure of indigestion and urinary troubles; special Tates to school teachers: stage leaves Madrone Mon.,Wed. and Sat.on arrival of morning train from £, I good hunting and txcellent fishing; write for Sescriptive pamphlet. G. 8. Dx ER, Manager. JOHN DAY’S RESORT, O%,,THE BANKS OF EEL RIVER, THE finest trout stream in the State, 5 miles from Potter Valley, Mendocino Co.; round_trip 89 75 from S. F.; terms $6 to $7 per week; plenty milk, fresh butter and eggs; the hunting in this locality isthe best In_the State. For further particulars address JOHN DAY, Potter Valley. “LAUREL - DELL” HOTEL. LAvRu, DELL LAKE (FORMERLY LOWER Blue Lake): handsome new hotel nearly com- leted to meet requirements of coming season: ne bathing, boating, fishing and hunting. Address H. WAMBOLD, Laurel Dell, Bertha P. 0., Lake Co. SOLID COMFORT HOME RESORT. 11 MILES FROM NAPA: 1500 FEET ABOVE scenery unsurpassed. Napa valley, on Mount Veder. Mountain Fine climate.” Positive Cure for Asthma. Elegant mountain spring V! Open July 1 to January. week. From Napa via Phanix 1f atasie .81 Ko. veek. From Napa via Phenix livery stabies, $1.50. MRS. A. F. ALLEN, P. 0. box lBflr.,Nlpl City. chard, house; moderan improvements: home comforts; terms moderate. Address W.0.J., Law- rence Station, Santa Clara County, Cal - OR RENT AT BEN LOMOND—NEW COT- tage, 6 rooms, bath, storerooms; unturnished, or Will furnish for tenant for the season. Address or sooly to BENJ. LLOYD. station agent. Felton.Cal. thirty kinds of mineral springs? Shortest stage | GILROY HOT SPRINGS APlace Where the Invalid Can Surely Regain Health—Where the Tourist May Regale Himself Upon Magnificent and Picturesque Scensry, ‘Where the Summer Pilgrim May Find Rest, Kefreshment and Relaxation. A Mecca for the Annual Seeker After Repose and Recuperation. A Rural Retreat, Where the Adjacent Hills are Clothed in Garments of Matchless Glory. ‘Where the Ogre Malaria Never Lifts His Ghastly Head and Where the Waters of exllnj; Pour l‘l'Pol{ From Nature's Own Fountain. AKE 2:20 P. M. TRAIN FROM FOURTH and Townsend streets, arriving ai Springs as 6:30 P. 3. Fare $7 15 for round trip. Stage connects with train from Third and Townsend streets. ROOP & SON, Proprietors. SEA BEAGH HOTEL Santa Cruz, Cal. OR THE SEASON OF 1895 THE WEEKLY and monthly rates will be reduced from 20 to 80 per cent. This 18 your opportunity to spend & summer vacation at the seashore. The Sea Beach is the only first-class tamily hotel In Santa Cruz, and the only one which commands 8 view of the beach and Monterey Bay. It has 130 light airy rooms with all modern conveniences, in- cluding hot and cold water. For termsand particulars address JOHN T. SULLIVAN, Proprietor. CHARMING CAPITOLA. NEW HOTEL. Furnished cottages, fine camp-grounds; surf-bathing and hot baths; salmon and trout fishing; gem of the Pa- cific resorts. Broad-gauge railr Address 3 A. J. HIHN, Manager. CAPITOLA, CAL. MOUNTAIN HOME The Recognized Family Summer Resort in Santa Cruz Mountains. EAUTIFUL SCENERY, DRIVES AND walks; unsurpassed asa health resort; large swimming-tank; table exceilent; send for sou- venir. Stagesconnect Wednesdays and Saturdays at Madrone with 8:15 A. M. train from Third and Townsend streets. VIC PONCELET, Proprietor, agas, Cal. KLAMATH HOT SPRINGS Siskiyou County, Cal. About fitty miles north of Mount Shasta. Twent; miles from the California and Oregon Rallroad Steam, sulphur and hot mud baths. Cure for rheumatism, all forms of skin diseases and stomach troubles. Hunting, fishing, scenery and climate unsurpassed. Fine stone hotel. Delightful place to spend the summer. For particulars address, EDSON BROS., Proprietors, Beswick,, Cal. "S3Lvd 0300034 Board $8 to $10 Per Week. $8—ROUND TRIP TICKET—$8 ANDERSON SPRINGS. J. ANDERSON, PROPRIETOR, Lake County. VICHY SPRINGS Mendocino County, 'HREE MILES FROM UKIAH, THE TER- minus of the S. F.and N. P. Rallway. Only known natural electric er. Warm™ “chame pagne” baths. Situation, location and scenery nos surpassed. Terms, $12 0 $14 per week. Postoffica and telephone at springs . DOOLAN, Proprietor. THE GEYSERS. RAILROAD RATES REDUCED From June 29th to July 4th, Good Until July 10th, for Round Trip Only $6.50. Rates at Hotel for Same Time $1.50 per Day To include Dance, Baths, etc. A. H. HILL, Proprietor. HOTEL DEL MAR. N THE SEASHORE, TWENTY MINUTE® ride from Santa Cruz; climate perfect; tabla unexcelled: surf bathing, sailing, Towing, fishing; buses meet all trains: chilaren, $3 50 t0 $5 per week; adults, $ per week: special rates to socie- tles and families. Address MANAGER HOTEL DEL MAR, Santa™ Crus, Cal., or room 29, Maze bullding, 8.'F. McKINNEY'S LAKE TAHOE OW OPEN. ROUND TRIP FROM SAN Francisco, $16. . Best fishing, fine groves, free boats; fine table: miik and cream from our owa dalry. $10 to 812 per week. MURPHY BROS,, Proprietors. IVY LODGE, 117 Soquel Avenue, Santa Cruz, Cal., 8] LP}(’F,PI}I\'A’I;E“BOA RDING. 2 Lary unds, fralis and flowers; central; fi T class accommodations. S Tamalpais Station, Ross hllr%. Near San Rafael. OTTAGES FOR FAMILIES, Salt water bathing: commodious grounds: danc- ing pavilion. Bus nt;‘the grounds for the accommo- dation of guests. Take Sausalito ferry. MRS, PETER SMITH & MRS, L. C. EGGLESTON, pro- prietors. HOWARD SPRINGS, LAKE COUNTY. C¢AL. HOL,AND, COLD MINERAL SPRINGS OF at healing power. Will cure constipation, aid digestion and purify the blood. Terms 88 per week. Water doctor on the premises. Write for circular and further information. GLENWOOD MOUNTAIN HOUSE Santa Cruz Mountains. New management. Iron, Sulphur and Magnetic Springs. $8 10 §10 per week. Write for circular, Glenwood P. 0. J. P. STOCKWELL, Proprietor. TH E Plx LEY Centrally Located and 3 Only Fire-proof Brick MRS. E. B. PIXLEY, Prop. Hotaling Building, SANTA CRUZ, CAL. HOTEL BEN LOMOND AND COTTAGES EOPENED MAY 1: SITUATED IN THE heart of the Santa Cruz Mountains; climate perfect: good hunting and fishing; croquet: tennis and clubhouse; camper’s round-trip ticket $3. For terms apply to J. J. C. LEONARD, Proprietor. HOTEL DE REDWOOD, RIGHT IN THE HEART OF THE GREAT ce;:n:‘odmz‘lo" silauml:r'usz County. First-class ¢ lations. ~Boa and Send for circular. Address e DOX, Laurel, Cal. MYRON s. ILL VALLEY_FURNISHED ROOMS IN M private family resort at Mill Valley, with ; without table board; also camping grounds and tents, with or without board: bathing, Bahmx. 8ic, Apply to PET. A b ER GARDNER, Mill Valley,