"We might as well pursue the trail a day or two," said Jones, "and

then, if we think we cannot cross the mountain, we can build winter

quarters. For my part, I do not relish a winter here, any more than

Sidney."

"Well," said Cole, casting an admiring glance towards Jane, "I think

quarters might become tolerable, if well supplied with venison--and I

think they might, between us all."

The chief saw the look, and a close observer might have for an instant

observed a peculiar glitter in his eye, but no word or movement of his

indicated that he had witnessed it, or if he did, cared for it.

Resuming their journey, they were soon made aware that the ground

before them was rising, and covered with a greater depth of snow. By

noon they had come to the base of high ranges of hills that rose one

above another, and above all towered the Sierra Nevada. Over these the

trail extended, and they were compelled either to encamp on the spot,

go back, or cross over the mountains. To pass over them seemed

impossible--to encamp on the exposed slope on which they were would

subject them unnecessarily to severe suffering from cold; and their

only safe alternative was to fall back to some secure unexposed

position, and raise a winter camp.

A few miles back, a sheltered position was discovered; the snow was

cleared away, and all working with an earnest will, a commodious hut

was soon erected consisting of strong poles for the frame work, which

were covered with bark, and this again thickly studded with boughs to

keep out the cold. The ground was also strewn with them, for they had

no skins to spread over it, nor even to make themselves a covering

through the night with--a want from which they suffered much. Taking

advantage of their experience the last winter, they collected stone

from beneath the snow, and built themselves a rough but efficient

fire-place, which occupied nearly one side of the hut, and in which

they could build large fires that diffused their genial warmth over the

room without endangering the frail fabric.

Chapter Twentieth.

The cold increases. The men take large quantities of fur. Abundant

supplies of game. Conversation on various matters. Jones and Cole tell

some of their adventures in the gold regions. A boulder of gold.

Shooting it from a precipice. Jones loaded down with riches.

Comfortable condition of the children. Howe describes an adventure he

experienced near Lake Superior by falling into an Indian's deer-pit.

Whirlwind relates a circumstance that occurred to himself and Shognaw

in reference to their escape from the Crows. The party's resignation to

their lot.

As the severity of the winter increased, they took daily hunting

excursions, in order to procure the necessary furs and skins to help

ward off the cold, always preserving their game, which was brought

home, dried and smoked by the fire, to preserve it against an hour of

need. They soon had their hut lined throughout with skins, the edges

joined with sinews or slender strips of hide, which kept the wind from

finding its way to them through the openings. They also covered the

ground with skins, reserving the fur of the foxes and beaver which they

snared, as well as the lighter skins, to make themselves new and warm

clothing. Their food was almost entirely animal, as they rarely

succeeded in getting anything of a vegetable character. They

occasionally found a "nut-pine" tree, from which they gathered its

fruits, but they disliked the taste of them, and gathered them more for

the light they gave when on fire, than for eating. Though they were not

as comfortably housed, or as well provided with the necessaries of

life, as the winter previously; yet they did not suffer so as to

endanger health, by either hunger or cold, and their greatest

discomfort arose from the want of vegetable food and salt. For the last

article they had searched in vain, and had come to the conclusion that

there were no saline beds within many miles of them. Jones and Cole

never grew tired of listening to their account of the hidden wealth

they had discovered, and they would spend days speculating on the best

plan of opening a communication with the districts containing the

golden prize.

"I would have kept the urn," said Cole, "if a whole legion of Indians

had been at my back."

"Perhaps not," said Jones. "I myself have seen the time when gold was a

burthen."

"The time you shot the boulder!" remarked Cole, laughing.

"Laugh as you will," said Jones; "that was a lucky shot if it was an

almost fatal one."

"What is it?" they all asked, seeing there was more than Jones felt

disposed to tell.

"Why," said Jones, "when among the gold mines on the other side of the

mountain we were not satisfied with the flakes of gold in the sand, and

supposed, of course, that there was a solid bed of it somewhere up the

river, from which it was washed down by the constant action of the

waters. As we proceeded along the river the ground became more rugged

until it led us into a cluster of hills and precipices jumbled up

together. Entering a narrow ravine we soon came to a curious looking

place with smooth sides standing perpendicularly, about twenty feet

apart, which was gradually contracted to within two feet, leaving the

end narrow and jagged. We soon saw there was ore in it, and on

examining closely we discovered places where large blocks of the

precious metal had been torn from its bed, with the marks of the mining

tools still plainly visible. Looking around us we picked up among the

loose pieces on the ground some lumps of pure gold, which were among

the specimens we carried home."

"Yes, yes; that is all very well, and very true," said Cole, "but it is

not all; tell the rest."

"They will not believe it if I do. They never did in the States, so

what is the use of it?" said Jones.

"We have seen such wonderful things ourselves that we are prepared for

anything," said the trapper.

"He may if he chooses," said Jones, pointing to Cole. "I shall not, it

is of no use."

"The narrow place," said Cole, "where we found the gold was about fifty

feet high, and nearly half way up to the top we discovered a huge

boulder of pure gold, as large as a bushel basket, hanging by a slim

thread of gold no larger than your finger. This thread was fully four

inches long, and seemed to have been cut that way by some one who had

been supported while doing so from above, for the boulder was in that

position that if worked at from below it would crush the artisan in its

fall. We were equally resolved to get hold of this mammoth prize, but

the question how we could get it was not so easily solved, as it rested

against the opposite side and would evidently turn and fall if this

narrow thread was broken.

"'I have it!' said Jones, exulting at the happy thought. 'I'll shoot it

off,' for we both had rifles.

"'And be crushed with its weight,' said I; but the words had not died

on my lips when the sharp crack of the rifle was heard, and down came

the prize. Both turned to fly from the danger, but Jones's foot caught

in some loose stones and he was prostrated, and the boulder rolling as

it fell deposited itself exactly across him. I removed the

uncomfortable load as soon as possible, but Jones's stomach has been

out of order ever since, especially when he sees solid bodies

overhead."

"What became of the lump of gold?" asked the trapper.

"We hid it in the earth; but should have been to it again before this

time had we not been overhauled by the Indians."

"A fortunate escape," said Howe, "equal to one I made many years ago,

ere I learned to distrust the ground I walked over before testing its

security. Being on one of our trapping expeditions, father and myself

found ourselves on the territory of the St. Croix Indians, who evinced

great friendship for us, insisting we should take up our abode in their

village as long as we thought fit to remain in their territory. We soon

became domesticated among them, and spent our nights there although our

days were spent in the most secret recesses of the forest in setting

our traps, curing skins, and in observing the habits of the wild

denizens of the forest. One day father and myself separated, he to look

after our traps set in one direction, I in another; and as I neared the

place of destination, while walking over ground smooth and level as you

ever saw the ground in the forest, suddenly it gave way, precipitating

me into a hole full ten feet deep with smooth, perpendicular sides that

defied all attempts to climb them. I had fallen into an Indian's deer

trap, dug and covered over so as to deceive them; but which would

readily give way precipitating the game into the snare, the escape from

which was impossible. I laughed at my stupidity at first, as I knew

within an hour, father would be along when with his assistance I could

be easily extricated. I soon had enough to do without laughing, for in

half an hour after, I heard a step above, but before I had time to

speculate on it, the nose of a half grown cub was thrust over the top,

and in the next moment its ugly carcase came tumbling down and fell

with a crash at my feet, uttering a cry of pain as it fell, which was

answered by a growl from above, and in a minute more its dam stood on

the brink growling fiercely at me, as she saw her cub lay helpless and

moaning on the ground. With a spring she lighted on her feet within six

feet of where I stood, for I had retreated into the farthest corner,

not at all relishing a fight in such close quarters, for the hole was

only about eight feet square--and not a very agreeable place to be

cornered in with an enraged bear. Fortunately I had clung to my rifle,

in falling, and had also my hunting knife in my belt, so I concluded if

she was in for a struggle, not to back out of it. I saw at once the cub

had been killed in the fall, for the old bear smelt round and moaned

softly to it, and then finding it did not stir, turned it over and over

with her paw. Finding it still exhibited no signs of life, she turned

towards me with gnashing teeth and flashing eyes, and then, I must say,

I really felt cornered. You know I told you," he added apologetically,

"that I was young then; in fact not more than twenty. Well, the beast

raised herself for a spring at me, when I gave her a pair of bullets,

that made her howl; but she sprang and grasping me in her huge arms,

fastened my arms to my side so that my knife was useless in my belt,

and I was making up my mind that all was over with me, when father

halloed above, he having been drawn thither, by my calls for help,

followed by a leap into the hole, and a half dozen thrusts of his knife

into the monster's heart, relieved me from the closest embrace I hope

ever to encounter."

"I should suppose you could have seen some signs to indicate the trap,"

said Edward.

"The Indians take good care that there are none; covering slender poles

over with a thick layer of leaves that hides effectually the abyss

beneath."

"My brother was in danger," said the chief, laughing at his mishaps,

"but it was not equal to one of my warriors who, with me, went out once

to recover some horses the thieving Crows had driven away. We found the

horses, and starting for home had proceeded about a mile, when we

discovered a whole army of the Crows start in pursuit. Our only hope of

safety for ourselves lay in flight, and abandoning our horses for which

we had risked our lives, we went scouring through the forest at a

furious rate. The animals we rode were jaded, and those of our pursuers

fresh, and we soon saw they gained upon us, and abandoning our horses

behind a sharp curve that hid us from sight, we made them gallop away,

and then betook ourselves to trees for safety. In ten minutes after the

Crows galloped past us, leaving us safely secreted in the friendly

branches in which we had taken shelter. Shognaw had climbed a large

beech tree that stood within a few feet of the one in which I had taken

shelter. I once or twice thought I heard a growl like that uttered by

cubs, but the excitement I felt for our safety, dispelled it the next

moment. As soon as we were left alone, and the sounds of the pursuers

died away in the distance, I felt some alarm, for I knew if there were

cubs about, the old bear would dislodge us, and, in all probability,

our retreat would be discovered by some straggling Crows. At that

moment, Shognaw, calling my attention in a low tone, said, 'I have got

into a bear's hole, full of young cubs, what shall I do? for the old

one will not be away long, as she, on finding a commotion raised by the

Crows will, for her own safety, take refuge in her den.'

"'We cannot fight her, that is certain,' said I, 'for we should then be

discovered; but, if we watch our chance, we may get away from this

spot, and find safety in some other, but we must be very cautious that

no Crows are in sight first.'

"'I think there are none now,' he replied, not at all relishing the

idea of trespassing on the domicil of madam Bruin.

"'Hist! there they are,' said I, as we saw a number of them come

yelling towards us, and on looking again, I discovered them in pursuit

of something which, in a few minutes, bounded from a clump of bushes

and made for the tree in which Shognaw had hid, and then to our dismay,

we saw it was the old bear pursued by the Crows. He too saw her coming,

and ascended to the topmost branches high above the hole, and well he

did, for in a moment more, she had crawled in just as the hunters came

to the foot of the tree. They were foiled of their game, and after

consulting for a moment whether it was best to cut or burn down the

tree, they concluded to burn it, as the less laborious way to dislodge

the old bear. Accordingly, they dispersed in search of fire, leaving

half their number to guard the tree while away. I saw at once that we

were caught in a trap, and that nothing but coolness and strategy could

save us. The tree in which I was, being a little out from the one they

were watching, favored my escape, which I effected by noiselessly

descending, and edging away by darting from tree to tree, until I had

attained a safe position that overlooked the spot where I feared

Shognaw would meet his doom. The fire was soon kindled, and being fed

with dry brush, soon wound and crackled up the trunk, and began to

scorch and consume the branches and leaves of the tree. I began to

think I ought to face the whole band single handed, in an attempt to

rescue the poor fellow, when I saw him swing himself down from limb to

limb, and drop to the ground in the midst of the astonished Crows, and

take to flight. For a moment they were too surprised to comprehend that

it was really a man, and a foe; but they soon recovered from the panic,

and sounding their war cry, the whole band gave chase. Shognaw took to

a river half a mile distant, and plunging in, rose among some rushes

that skirted the bank, among which he hid himself till dark, when he

made his way in safety home, which he reached before I did, for I was

looking out for him the whole night, and returned when I made up my

mind that he had at last fallen into the hands of the Crows."

Chapter Twenty-First.

Departure of winter. Joy at the fact of knowing which way they were

travelling. Their encampment by the side of a beautiful lake. They

reach the first ranges of the Sierra Nevada mountains. Whirlwind offers

to go to Mr. Duncan's encampment and guide them through the forests. He

starts on that expedition accompanied by Cole. The children pursue

their journey. Discovery of gold. They experience great difficulties in

crossing the Sierra. Three of their horses dashed to pieces over a

precipice. Narrow escape of Jones. Discovery of singular ancient walls.

An engraved slab of granite. They reach the foot of the Sierra in

safety. Their route continued. They finally arrive at the residence of

a Spanish Curate. They consent to tarry awhile at his house.

Winter gradually wore away--the snow-girt hills and valleys were

divested of their mantle of gloom, and were clothed with vestments of

green, spangled with crimson, blue, and gold flowers, the perfume of

which called forth the soft hum of bees as they flew from flower to

flower, extracting the honied dews. Far from the sunny South the birds

came with their glad, cheering voices, giving forth a welcome to the

dawning spring. The winter had been long and tedious, cheered only with

the certainty that they knew which way they had to travel in order to

reach the haunts of civilization; and though they had kept the hunger

wolf at bay, their strength gradually gave out under their unhealthy

diet, and when they were ready to travel, they were in a pitiful

condition to endure its fatigues. Their horses were even worse off than

themselves. Worn with privation to skeletons, they were drooping and

spiritless; and had not the wanderers used great exertion to collect

the young grass for them, they would have perished, for they were too

languid to crop it themselves.

Slowly at first new vigor became infused into them, and in a few weeks'

delay, and the spring rains being over, their horses gathered strength,

and they determined to proceed on their journey. Upon mature

deliberation they considered it prudent to cross the mountains to the

Pacific coast, and then send word to Mr. Duncan where they were, as

they did not deem themselves strong or well enough prepared to make the

distance back to their friends. Whirlwind heard the decision, and then

told them he thought it best that one or more of them should return to

Mr. Duncan, and as he could be spared best, offered to go, if either

Jones or Cole would guide him on the road; "for," said the chief,

"Duncan and the rest can come to you better than you can go to them, in

your present condition."

"Always generous," said Jane, with gratitude beaming in her eye, for in

truth she felt heart-sick at the thought of placing a still greater

distance between herself and those her heart yearned to see.

"It is nothing," said the chief. "Whirlwind would give his life, if it

would save the antelope a pang of sorrow or grief."

"I think Duncan would as soon settle here as in Oregon, his original

destination," said the trapper; "and if we can so arrange it as to make

it safe for us, I think myself it would be a better plan, than for all

of us to proceed over the mountains, and then, when we are able, return

again."

"In doing this," said Cole, "we can reach Mr. Duncan's camp, if still

where you left him, which I think he is, before midsummer, and then he

will be able to reach you at the nearest settlement by the time frost

again comes. I am willing to accompany the chief, while Jones can guide

you in safety over the Sierra before you."

Selecting two of the best horses for the use of Whirlwind and Cole,

they took leave of them, charging them with a multitude of messages for

their friends, and when they started on the homeward route, they too

moved on towards the mountain before them, whose snow-crested head

loomed up among the clouds. At noon our wanderers halted at the spot

they retreated from when they went into their winter quarters, and

after resting, began to climb the rugged ascent, Jones leading the way;

and, save an occasional path beaten by the denizens of the forest,

their only landmark was the blazed trees.[14] Jones had been over the

ground before, and as his memory was very tenacious, he saved them from

much anxiety, and often from danger, as well as unnecessary fatigue.

Their progress was necessarily slow and painful, but they were still

brave at heart, and bore it in silence. At night they halted by the

side of a beautiful lake, around which the hills curved gracefully,

forming a natural basin, which held the transparent waters against the

side of the mountain. Its banks were richly covered with grass, and

shaded by aspens which, with the rugged peaks of the mountains that

towered above, gave it a sylvan appearance.

[14] Bark cut off from trees to indicate a certain course through

the forests. It is a very common practice among the pioneers of

the West.

Numerous flocks of ducks were seen on the surface of the lake, and some

of them contributed to the supper of the travellers, whose appetites,

sharpened by the mountain air, relished their delicious flavor.

Following down this lake the next morning for nearly half a mile, they

passed round it, and commenced the ascent of the range above them.

Innumerable springs dotted the trail on either side, while shrubs and

the earliest spring flowers hung and overrun every crevice in the rocks

around them. The scenery was wilder here than any they had met with

before in all their wanderings. Their path led them often between

stupendous, curious looking rocks, which rose on either side, narrowing

the pass so that they were obliged to travel in Indian file. It was a

singular place--the grey, smooth, rocky precipices--the strip of blue

sky far above--an open chasm, in which one would naturally expect if

anywhere, to encounter spirits and hobgoblins. Happily for our

wanderers, they were well aware they had not emigrated from the old

world, but in their place feared to encounter hostile Indians. Emerging

from this defile, they continued their course over a rocky surface, the

vegetation every moment growing more sparse, and when night came on

they were nowhere near water, and all they had to relieve their thirst

was what they found in crevices of rocks that had collected there

during the last rain. A little scanty herbage was all their horses

could find after their hard day's travel, and had they not brought a

supply of fowl from the lake where they had camped the night before,

they would have gone supperless to rest.

At early dawn they left that inhospitable spot, and by sunrise came to

the top of the acclivity of the range. Below them lay a beautiful

valley clothed with verdure, through which flowed a considerable river,

and beyond the range of hills that skirted it on the other side, rose

the topmost snow-covered peak of the Sierra. They found the descent

into the valley far more difficult than the ascent, the trail often

leading them along a narrow footpath, the rocks rising perpendicularly

on one side, while on the other were yawning chasms a hundred feet

below, apparently ready to receive them, should they stumble, or

deviate from the rugged path before them. They made the descent in

safety, and rested themselves for the remainder of the day on the bank

of the river. On examining the stream, they found it too deep to be

forded in the usual way of riding their horses over. They built a raft,

on which they crossed, holding the horses by the halter, making them

swim by its side.

The next morning, with a day's supply of provisions for themselves and

animals, they began the ascent of the range before them, the summit of

which they gained the next day with perfect safety, and then began the

opposite descent, camping for the night on the western side. The slope

at this point was less rugged and difficult of descent than the other,

and they encamped at its base, having made extraordinary marches the

last few days, taking into consideration the dangerous path over which

they had travelled. There was no valley here, the ground between this

range and the Sierra being a commingling of rolling hills, shady dells,

and narrow ravines, all densely covered with verdure, through which

small rivulets murmured, taking their rise at the base of the Sierra,

and wound their way through the broken surface, now in tranquil beauty,

and anon dashing in waterfalls down ledges of rocks, their clear limpid

waters lashed to a foam. Large quantities of deer, elk, antelope, and

mountain sheep, were found there, as well as wild turkeys, geese,

partridges, duck, and numerous other smaller fowls. Secure in the

mountain fastnesses the game had multiplied till it had completely

filled the whole country, and Howe declared that during all his hunting

and trapping career, he had never encountered such a variety and

quantity in so small a space of territory.

"I cannot think it a small space," said Jones. "In my opinion, it

extends many hundred miles each way, giving game range enough."

They were now at the foot of the last and most formidable object that

debarred them from civilization, and here they thought it prudent to

halt a few days to recruit their own as well as their animal's

strength, and prepare provision to carry with them. The second day of

the halt while they were in search of the roots of the yampa, they

found on turning up the earth that it was specked with fine particles

of gold. They were highly elated at this, for now, with a fair prospect

of freeing themselves from the wilds, it had its old intrinsic value,

and doubly valuable would it be to them, on gaining a settlement, as

not one of them had an article of clothing about them that was not made

of skins, and many in not over good repair.

"We can save this now, I suppose," said Sidney, "that the chief is not

by with evil spirits?"

"Certainly, as much as you like," returned the trapper. "I intend to

find some on my own account."

"You will not find any that will equal in quantities and value, that of

the cavern in the oasis," said Edward.

"You don't know that," returned his uncle. "I have always noticed where

gold is found in flakes, mixed with earth, that it has been washed in

ages past into its present bed, from where it originally was in a pure

state. At least such is the conclusion formed by present appearances."

"No harm in searching for it," said Jones, who was in ecstacies at the

discovery of gold, and he began to tear up the loose earth in every

direction around him. Leaving the rest picking out the tiny flakes from

the earthy bed, Howe and Jones spent the day in examining the

localities around where they thought it most likely the ore was to be

found, but obtained only torn hands and feet for their labor, and were

glad to give up the search and return to camp. During their absence the

children had collected a great deal, sometimes finding nuggets as large

as a walnut.

"Oh! well," said Jones, in a fretful tone, when the children displayed

their wealth before him, "I can get enough when I am over the

mountains, if I have missed it to-day."

"As for that, we will share with you," said Jane. "You have lead us so

far out of the wilderness where, without your aid, we might have

perished. We do not forget this, and what we have to bestow, which is

very little, is at your command."

"Well, well, there is no need of it: I tell you I have lumps of gold

over the mountains larger than I can lift. Besides, can I not get some

myself out of the earth to-morrow?"

After a few days' sojourn here, they prepared themselves as well as

their scanty means would allow, to cross the barrier before them. All

day long they rode over the broken ground, along which the trail lay,

and at night halted far up its rugged side, where they could look down

upon the rolling valley below. Here they found the night air very cold,

and they were obliged to enclose boughs around them to break the wind

from their miserable retreat while they slept.

Taking an early breakfast, they started on, and at night, having made a

good day's ride, reached within a short distance of the summit of the

mountain. Here they experienced much difficulty in respiration. The

vegetation also became very sparse; the ground sometimes in large

spaces being covered with piles of slate and limestone, among which,

not a shrub could take root. They often terminated in precipices making

the trail through their windings difficult and dangerous. By the aid of

large fires they spent the night very comfortably, and the next morning

determined, while still refreshed by rest, to cross the summit and make

the descent so far as would make respiration less difficult, for even

now they were at times dizzy and faint. To ride through these difficult

places was impossible, and dismounting, they passed up the narrow path

one at a time; sometimes the ascent was so glassed with ice and so

steep that they were obliged to pull themselves up by clinging with

their hands to the rocks above them. A crust of ice and snow covered

the ground, and the horses being unshod, floundered and stumbled, and

often made narrow escapes from being precipitated into the abyss below.

The poor beasts seemed to comprehend the danger, and carefully tried

the ground at every step before venturing their weight fully upon it,

and shuddering and trembling, kept as far from the edge of the

ice-bound rocks as the narrowness of the pass would allow them. The sun

shone brightly, but it created little warmth, and in the middle of June

they were suffering the rigors of winter.

Safely they stood upon the summit of the Sierra! Away to the west a

smooth blue belt girt the horizon, while to the east a long range of

mountains rose against the sky. It was the Pacific on the west, and the

Wahsatch mountains on the east, with the broad valleys basking in a

summer sun between them, through which rivers wound their dark

serpentine lines, while away to the north-east the great desert lay,

with its white sands glittering beneath the rays that fell upon it.

What struck them as peculiar, was numerous dark spots scattered at

intervals over the barren waste, while in the centre lay some of

immense size, clothed with dark verdure, from the midst of which rose a

mountain, looking from that distance, like a shaft against the sky.

They concluded to themselves, these must be strips of land, yet in

their wanderings they had come across but one. They did not relish the

idea of being caught in darkness on that inhospitable elevation, and

turning their steps once more into the trail, began the descent.

Greatly to their relief, they found this more even and less steep, and

descended a few hundred feet without any great exertion. They now could

breathe freer, and began to be much relieved. Ice and snow also

disappeared, and keeping on their way steadily, by night they reached a

refreshing spring, around which grass grew in abundance, and by which

they encamped for the night. Tired and weary as they were, they were

more cheerful and happy that night than they had been for months

previously, it seemed to them that the great barrier had been overcome,

and they had safely passed the last fiery ordeal they should be called

to encounter. They felt as though the night had passed, and day was

dawning on their weary and forlorn prospects.

They were in no great hurry to be on their road the next morning, for

on awaking they found themselves sore and stiff in their limbs, and

their beasts' hoofs torn and swollen. Towards noon, however, much

refreshed, they once more started, and after proceeding on their

journey about two hours, they came to a dangerous pass--the path being

not over three feet wide, steep, and difficult of descent.[15] Directing

Sidney, Jane, and Edward ahead, Howe and Jones began the descent with

the horses; when in the most difficult place, one of the animals became

restive, and rearing, was precipitated below, dragging Jones, who had

hold of the bridle, with him. One terrible cry of distress was heard as

the horse went over the side, and then a crash on the jagged rocks, and

the noble beast was dashed to atoms two hundred feet below them.

Frightened at the plunge and cries of mortal anguish, the rest of the

horses broke, and bounded wildly down the path. Howe, seeing he could

not control them, sprang close to the wall of rock, thus saving himself

from being crowded over the abyss by the terrified beasts who, in their

headlong career, heeded nothing before them. As they came to a sharp

angle in the trail, as it wound down the mountain, the two foremost

horses, instead of turning, plunged over the side, and with a neigh of

terror, were soon crushed, like their companion, on the rocks in the

deep abyss below. The others seeing the two disappear, paused

sufficiently to avert the danger, and turning the angle, landed safely

on the table, where the children had preceded them.

[15] Since 1840 this pass over the Sierra has been abandoned, and

one far easier and less difficult discovered twenty miles below

it. It was originally used by the Indians, as the shortest route

to the valley beyond.

Terrified at seeing the horses without Howe and Jones, they hastened up

the mountain to where the first catastrophe had occurred, and arrived

in time to see their uncle assist Jones into the path from a jutting

rock a few feet below, where he had landed in no wise hurt, with the

exception of a few bruises. The rock that had caught him was but a few

feet broad, and it was nearer a miracle that he was not dashed to the

bottom of the abyss than we are accustomed to experience. The poor

beast was a pitiful sight to look upon, and at a glance at his mangled

body they turned sickened away. The other two had also been crushed

instantly and lay lifeless where they had fallen. Thankful for their

own escape, yet grieving for the fate of their faithful animals that

had been through so many privations with them, they encamped on the

broad table below, where they found a spring of pure water and plenty

of grass for their two remaining horses.

The next day as they were wending their way slowly along, they came to

a range of walls so singular in their conformation as to make them

pause in their journey to examine them. On a broad table, girt in on

either side by the rocky fortresses of the Sierra, a column arose

twenty feet long and sixteen wide at the base, diminishing as it rose

to a height of thirty feet so as to leave the top eight by twelve feet

in dimensions. This column was ascended by a flight of steps, regular

and perfect in their construction. They were not long in ascertaining

this to be a work of art, and perhaps for centuries on centuries it had

stood there defying the elements, and was even now as solid and

perfect, with every block of granite in its place, as when first laid.

"This is the work of the ancestors of the old man of Lake Superior,"

said Howe, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps the savages he told you of, whom he said inhabited the

mountains built it," returned Jane.

"It was never built by a people destitute of the arts and sciences.

Mark the accuracy with which each stone is made to fit its place, hewn

and polished until it is as smooth as marble. Note also the cement in

which it is laid, black and hard as glass, like that in which the

temple was laid where we spent our first winter. No, no; depend upon

it, a civilized people have been here centuries before our forefathers

ever heard of this continent."

A cry of astonishment from Edward who had ascended to the summit,

called their attention there also. Gaining the top, they found on the

centre, raised on blocks of granite, a foot from the smooth floor, a

heavy slab of granite six feet long and two wide and six inches thick,

elaborately carved on the edges, the design being entwined serpents,

the heads laying over the ends with closed mouths and open eyes. They

were represented as being scaly, and each scale was chiseled with some

strange device, all differing in shape and finish. On this slab lay a

flint, the edges sharp, hollowed into a slightly oval form, being made

into a sharp and thin scoop with the shape of a shell. By its side lay

a stone mallet perfect also in its finish. With feelings of awe they

left this memento of the unknown past, and pursued their journey.

The rest of the descent they found comparatively easy, and they were

once more where birds sang and flowers bloomed, game roamed, and

savages prowled. Making easy journeys, in a few days they hailed with

joy a clearing which they saw was inhabited. The owner proved to be a

Creole missionary from a Spanish settlement below, who had been

stationed there to look after the spiritual welfare of the Indians, and

who received our wanderers with great kindness. When they told him who

and what they were, the benevolent curate, like a good christian,

insisted they should make his domicil their home until they heard from

their friends. This offer they gladly accepted; and in exchange for

their gold which fascinated the pious man's eyes in a wonderful degree,

they obtained some clothing, and when once more dressed in the garb of

civilization, they began to think their wanderings were indeed over.

Chapter Twenty-Second.

Return to the family of Mr. Duncan. Lewis and his father succeed in

getting back to camp. The effect the capture of the children produced

on the health of Mr. and Mrs. Duncan. Cole and the chief reach the camp

of the Arapahoes. Their surprise. They continue their course to Mr.

Duncan's camp. Joy at the news they bring. They start again for the

west. Thirty Arapahoes accompany them. They arrive at the Sierra

Nevada.

Having followed our wanderers through many exceedingly trying and

difficult scenes, since they became separated from the rest of the

family and were lost in the deep and dreary desert, to the hospitable

fireside of the curate beyond the Sierra Nevada where they again met

with the comforts of civilized life, we will leave them for the present

and return to the family of Mr. Duncan. The last we saw of Mr. Duncan

and Lewis was in the battle with the Crows; but they succeeded in

making their escape, and finally returned to their camp, only, however,

to convey the sorrowful intelligence of the sad fate of all who had

gone out to the rescue except himself and Lewis. This sad event

confined him to a bed of sickness from which he arose after many weeks

of suffering, with feeble and tottering steps, and locks whitened by

suffering. Grief had done what time had not--it had made him old and

grey.

Mrs. Duncan submitted meekly to the terrible blow; but the elasticity

of her step was gone, the light from her eye, and the usual glad smile

from her lips had disappeared. Had her children sickened and died, she

could have laid them away in the grave, with the consoling thought,

that all must lay there at last. But the harassing idea of the torture

they would be subjected to, and the terrible death they must at last

suffer, if indeed they still lived, was a constant source of agony to

her.

"If I only knew that they were dead and at rest, I would be content;

but, alas! I fear they still live!" she often said to herself, and then

the throbbings of her heart would not be still. Poor mother! her

thoughts made her life a torture of the deepest intensity.

Lewis would not believe they were dead, and had devoted the whole time

of their absence in wandering from tribe to tribe, in his endeavors to

gain some information of them. Once he heard there were some white

persons captive in a distant Indian village, but he could not learn the

name of the tribe, or in what part of the vast western wilds they were

located. Twice he had been through to Oregon in hopes of obtaining a

clue to their whereabouts, but heartsick had returned only to sink the

already drooping spirits of his parents still lower. Mr. Duncan had

removed his family farther east, where he would be less liable to be

annoyed by hostile Indians, and there taking up his abode determined to

await until he could learn the fate of his children.

Cole and the chief travelled with great rapidity. They were inured to

hardship from infancy, and with nothing to impede their progress,

sometimes riding, and sometimes walking, the fourth week out they came

to the Arapahoe village in the evening just as the shades of night were

drawing to the lodges, the men, women, and children who had scattered

themselves during the day through the forest. The chieftain's eye

kindled as the old familiar faces passed before him, and his breast

heaved with pride us he read in their cheerful steps and careless ways

the security and prosperity of his tribe. Cole and the chief were

standing in the shadow of a large chesnut tree, which protected them

from observation, but from which they saw all that was passing in the

village without being seen. Gradually the Arapahoes seated themselves

on the bank of a small stream in little groups, and then the chief saw

who it was that had succeeded him in command--it was his best

friend--the brave and good Eagle.

"Stay here, till I return," whispered the chief to Cole, and then

folding his arms over his brawny chest, he walked with a proud step

into their midst. Every tongue seemed to be paralyzed, every limb

nerveless, as they, with horror depicted on their swarthy faces, saw

him approaching.

At last one old man slowly arose and stretching his long bony hand

toward him, said--"Does not our chief rest well in the spirit land,

that he comes back to his people again? or does he come to warn us of

danger?"

"The Arapahoes have forgotten their chief," said Whirlwind, bitterly.

"No, no: not forgotten him!" cried a young girl--his sister--bounding

into the circle, and throwing herself, into his arms.

"The Singing-Bird does not forget," said the chief, holding her tightly

in his embrace.

"We did not forget, but thought you dead!" they all cried, after fairly

recovering from their panic. The Eagle was one of the first to give him

a hearty welcome back, and as he did so, he laid his plume on the

returned chieftain's head--thus resigning his title and authority.

"No, keep it yet for awhile," returned Whirlwind, "I must leave you for

a time." He then explained the disasters that had befallen them, and,

finally, his self-imposed duty in uniting the severed family.

The Indians never do a generous act by piecemeal. They are either warm

friends or bitter enemies, knowing no medium between the two. They will

lay down their lives to serve a friend, and murder a friend's enemy for

the same reason, although they have never seen him before, and

personally have no animosity towards him. The Arapahoes applauded the

noble design of their chief, and furnished fresh horses to him and

Cole, with which to accomplish the distance to the frontier, where Mr.

Duncan and his companions were.

Mr. Duncan and family were seating themselves at their evening meal, as

the two horseman halted at the door. A glance was sufficient to tell

them one was a stranger, and the other--could it be?--was the Arapahoe

chief, who was taken captive with his lost ones! They all with one

impulse started for the door, but Mrs. Duncan, too overcome with

anxiety, stood trembling, pale and speechless, leaning on a chair, from

which she had just arisen. Mr. Duncan reached the door, but the words

he would have spoken died on his lips, as Lewis bounded past him, and

grasping the chiefs arm convulsively, cried--"Do _they_ live!--speak,

if you would not see _them_ die!" pointing to his father and mother--"do

they live?"

"All live!" said the chief; and as the words fell from his lips, a cry

of joy and gladness resounded from the chastened hearts of the family.

The certainty that the lost ones still lived, though they yet knew not

where nor under what circumstances, roused their enervated energies,

nerved their limbs and called back the healthful flush to the cheek,

and the light of joy to their eyes.

"To be sure they are well," said Cole to their inquiries, "and we have

come all the way from the Sierra Nevada mountains to bring you the

news, and take you to them."

"Yes, yes; we will go. To-morrow we will be on the road to see them,"

said Mrs. Duncan.

"Not so fast as that," returned Cole; "I lost all my traps by the

red-skins, and must collect some more. Besides, you need more

preparation than could be made in that time, or you will fall into

savage hands the second time."

"Let it be a week, then; we can be ready in that time," said Mr.

Duncan. Their wanderings were recounted by Whirlwind, and when he had

concluded, Mrs. Duncan's joy was nearly turned to sorrow, for fear they

had not escaped the dangers of the Sierra. Accordingly, their

arrangements were made to set out after a week's preparation. Mr.

Duncan's equipments being nearly the same as those with which he had

started two years before, when his journey was so unfortunately

interrupted. Their destination now was somewhat different than what it

was then; their only object being to recover their lost children. Cole

had given such glowing descriptions of the country west of the Sierra

that they thought it probable they should settle there; still, this was

a minor consideration with them.

They reached the Arapahoe village in safety, where they found thirty of

their warriors ready to accompany them as a guard. Their love and

devotion to their chief prompted them to this disinterested act. They

were all well mounted on half-tamed prairie horses,--their swarthy

forms fantastically painted, and their heads and tunics adorned with

shells, beads, and feathers, which gave them a wild, grotesque, but not

unbecoming appearance. This was their gala costume, prepared after the

most approved Indian style, and France never looked upon her sovereign

with more pride when decked in his costliest regal vestments, than this

tribe of savages did upon these thirty warriors, that the whole village

had been laid under contribution to decorate in befitting pomp for this

occasion. It is unnecessary to follow them minutely as they progressed

in their journey. Suffice it that their guard protected them from the

depredations of other Indians, and at the same time kept them supplied

with meat and fish in abundance, cleared the path when obstructed, and

daily rendered invaluable service to the emigrants. On reaching the

Sierra, they were shown another pass by some Indians they met with,

which was less dangerous, although farther over, and quite as toilsome

in crossing.

Chapter Twenty-Third.

The Curate has become much attached to the Wanderers. Arrival of Mr.

and Mrs. Duncan's family, accompanied by a number of Arapahoes.

Whirlwind demands Jane in marriage. Duncan's feeling in the matter.

Jane refuses and the Indians take their departure. The curate gives an

account of the discoveries he made of a singular road, city, pyramid.

The marriage of Jane and Sidney. Prosperous condition of Mr. Duncan's

family. The lapse of twelve years. Change of their condition. Age

whitens their locks. Conclusion.

We will go back again to the Pacific valley. The good curate had formed

a strong attachment to our wanderers who had been so unceremoniously

thrown upon his hospitality, and he held out such strong inducements

for them to settle permanently there that Howe had taken some land, and

by the aid of Indians whom the curate had partially civilized and

taught to labor, cleared a few acres and built thereon a neat and

convenient house for the reception of Mr. Duncan, whose arrival he was

expecting daily.

Not long after this was completed, as they were all assembled on the

porch, a troop of wild looking horsemen emerged from the forest, and

galloped towards the house.

"It is a party out on a hunt," said the curate, "we have nothing to

fear from them. They will no doubt give us a call, and then hasten away

to the forest again."

Howe had been looking intently towards them from the first moment they

came in sight, as if in doubts as to who and what they were. The

approaching Indian's vision was keener than Howe's, for recognizing the

trapper, Whirlwind's joyous shout rang in the air in a prolonged "_tu

tu-la-la-lah_!"

"The chief! it is the chief!" cried Howe, recognizing the sound, "he

has come to bring us joyful tidings."

"May it be so for your sakes," returned the curate, with apparent joy.

Approaching with their panting horses, the Indians were dismounted the

next moment, and shaking hands with the little group; but, when the

chief came to Jane, he caught her in his arms and gazed wistfully in

her clear blue eyes.

"They are all safe and close at hand," said he speaking rapidly,

anticipating her inquiry, "and I have come to claim the antelope. Will

she not now go with her chief?"

"I cannot tell you yet; my mother! father! let me see them," cried the

bewildered girl.

"They will be here very soon. The hill yonder is all that now hides

them from view," replied the chief, releasing her from his embrace.

"We will go to meet them," said Sidney who, in gratitude to the chief

for safely conducting his more than father and mother over the dreary

wilds, forgot to evince jealousy at the embrace to which the chief had

so unceremoniously treated himself.

"Yes, yes; let us go to meet them," responded Jane, eagerly.

"The white mother longs for her children," said the chief; "you shall

go to meet her. The antelope can ride,--will you?" he continued,

pointing to his horse, and before she had time to speak he caught her

in his arms, and with the agility of a chamois, sprang on the horse's

back, placing the half terrified girl before him, and then galloped

away to the forest in the direction whence he came, with the rest,

including the curate, following after them. Turning the curve of the

hill, they came suddenly upon the emigrants, who at sight of their

children, uttered an exclamation of joy, and ran forward, catching Jane

who was the first to come up, from the chief's arms, and who, with a

glad cry, sprang to meet a long embrace from her father and mother.

"Mother! father! Jane!" was all they could say, for their hearts were

too full to speak.

"I come! father! mother--I come!" cried Edward, rushing into their

arms, which were glad to hold him there again.

"Oh, God! I thank _Thee_, that _Thou_ hast restored me these lost

ones!" cried the mother fervently, still holding her recovered children

in her arms.

"Amen!" responded the curate, gently.

"Joy, for your arrival--joy for our escape and re-union," cried Sidney,

returning the warm embrace with which he was greeted.

"These children make children of us," said Howe, shaking Mr. and Mrs.

Duncan by the hand, while endeavoring to keep his joy at again seeing

them in becoming bounds, for the children's volubility was becoming

contagious.

Lewis, Martin, Annie, and Benjamin were not behind the rest in their

greeting. Indeed they were extravagant in their joy.

The emigrants were now conducted to the dwelling prepared for them,

which gave them a pleasant surprise, for they had not anticipated

finding a house awaiting their arrival. The baggage was soon placed in

it, and by nightfall they were fairly domiciled in their new home.

Tired of being unsettled, Mr. Duncan, on examining the locality around

him, determined to make himself a permanent home, much to the

gratification of the curate, whose choice of society had been hitherto

necessarily limited, as there were but few settlers within twenty miles

of his station. Jones and Cole refused to take up their abode there.

Visions of gold mines constantly haunted them, and after a week's delay

they departed for their hidden treasure.

The chief now became impatient to return, and to the astonishment of

all, and great indignation of Sidney, formally demanded of Mr. Duncan

that he should give authority for him to marry Jane, in order that he

might be on his journey back to his people. This demand was so

extraordinary that the father did not know what to do, and sought Howe,

to see if he could throw any light on this singular freak of the chief.

A shade of sorrow settled on the brow of the trapper when Mr. Duncan

told him his errand. "The chief," he remarked, "has been making love in

his fashion to Jane ever since we have been away, greatly to the

annoyance of Sidney, who looks upon her as if he thought no one had a

right to make love to her but himself."

"How is it with Jane?" asked Mr. Duncan, anxiously.

"If I am not greatly deceived, she prefers the chief to Sidney. I am

not certain of it, however. She was too guarded in her looks for me to

ascertain positively."

"This is strange! What am I to do?"

"Not strange at all, Duncan," returned the trapper. "Do what is right,

and all will be well enough."

"The question then is, what is right?"

"Not a hard one, by any means, to answer. If she prefers him, and he

will abandon his savage habits, live and be civilized like other

people, let her take him by all means. He is a noble, generous fellow,

and we are under great obligations to him, and common gratitude demands

from us any consistent return."

"But this mixing of the races!--I must acknowledge I can but feel a

repugnance to it; but we will see what Jane says, and leave it all to

her."

On approaching, they found her in earnest conversation with the chief,

and as they came up, they heard her say--"Do not ask me to leave them;

I feel as if a separation from all my kindred would be fatal to my

happiness. Your people are strangers to me; and though they would

undoubtedly, as you say, be kind to me, yet it would not be like my own

people. Their ways are not like ours; and though I could not live among

them, you could with ours."

"Whirlwind was cradled in the forest, and he is not a child to die in a

white man's wigwam," returned the chief. "If the antelope will not go

with him to his people, he must leave her;" and though the words were

slow and measured as they fell from his lips, his chest heaved

convulsively, and his eye was bent with intense light on her, as if he

would read the secret workings of her soul.

"Oh, I cannot, cannot go!" she said, extending her clasped hands

appealingly, as she raised her eyes towards him.

"Because you do not love as I do," said he, clasping her in a long and

close embrace, then releasing her with a single bitterly uttered

"Farewell! we may never meet again," bounded away, leaving the poor

girl alone to ponder on the strange conduct of the chief.

"She is better alone," said Howe, "let us away," and retreating, they

found the Arapahoes in commotion, and before they could rightly

comprehended the meaning of what had transpired, they formed into a

body, each one holding his horse by the halter, and at a signal from

the chief, were firmly mounted on their steeds. Waving their adieu to

their host, they were out of sight before Mr. Duncan and Howe were

conscious of their design.

"Poor fellow," said the trapper, "he has carried away a sad heart--an

inadequate return, indeed, for all he has done for us."

"I would willingly have had it otherwise, but it seems they were both

too strongly attached to customs and kindred among which they were born

and which have become a part of their being, to give them up for each

other."

"Well, well," said Howe, "I have little faith in broken hearts; at

least what I have had was never strengthened by observation or

experience. It is all for the best, I suppose, but I liked the chief,

and feel as though I had parted from a brother."

While assembled together in a group a few evenings after, of which the

curate occupied a prominent position, our wanderers had been recounting

some of the wonders they had seen, among which Mr. Duncan related to

the curate the story of the Old Man of Lake Superior, and Howe gave

them a description of the ruins among the mountains. The curate

listened silently, but, evidently, with great interest to the recital

until its conclusion. He then commenced telling what he had seen:

"Last summer I was in Nacogdoches, an inland village of Texas, and

while transacting some business that had called me thither, I

incidentally heard a curious road spoken of, and much speculation was

entertained as to who could have been the builders. 'It never was built

by the Mexicans,' said one, who seemed both learned and gentlemanly,

'for had it been some record would have survived, and I am confident

there is none, for I have made the early annals of the country my sole

study for years, and must have found a record or something to throw

light upon such a costly and stupendous undertaking had it been built

by them.' This was enough to arouse my curiosity, for I had already

seen works of art still perfect, that were known to be older than any

erected by the inhabitants of this continent at the time of the

conquest; and, joining the group of gentlemen, learned that the road

referred to was a broad paved avenue leading west, and was said to

extend many hundred miles: so far indeed into the wilderness that its

termination was unknown. Rumor said it terminated at the Pacific Ocean.

My resolution was at once taken. I determined to return to the Pacific

valley by this route, for if there was such a road it would be

conferring an incalculable benefit on travellers to explore it. My

business completed, in company with four others, one of them being Don

Quavale, an amateur antiquarian, with his servant, Jose, and a man by

the name of Campbell, we set out. I had a servant, Diego, the same who

you see here every day. It was a small party for such an adventure, but

we were not aware of the dangers that lay before us, and we entered the

wilderness with light hearts."

"You followed it up, then?" said Howe; "bravo! you priests have nerve

as well as kind words, it seems."

"Yes: we followed it up," replied the curate, quietly. "Light hearted

and eager to explore the whole extent of this stupendous monument of a

lost people, we entered the wilderness, and soon struck the object of

our search. We examined it closely and found it about eighty feet wide

and paved with granite in slabs twenty feet long and ten wide, and were

evidently of great thickness. The whole road was covered with a soil,

made up of decayed leaves and branches sometimes, more than a foot in

thickness. Still we were enabled to follow the road without the

slightest difficulty, as it would not support a large growth of trees,

for the blocks of granite were so closely fitted against each other

that it precluded the possibility of their taking root between them.

Consequently they ran along the surface, and as soon as the branches

attained any large size the wind overturned them, leaving a broad

avenue through the tall forest trees. We followed this road through the

day; sometimes the ground had been raised, as was plainly visible from

the low lands on either side; then again it went through hills that had

been excavated, as they rose on either side in their original height,

giving the road the appearance of a broad defile between them. Towards

sunset of the fourth day we came to a cluster of what we at first

thought to be rocks overgrown with shrubs and moss, but which, on a

closer view, proved to be a large building in ruins. Removing the

accumulated soil we found it still perfect in some of its parts. One of

its doors in particular had its lintel of granite on which rested a

huge mass of fallen stone without displacing it. Passing inside this

door we entered a room perfect in all its proportions, being about

twenty feet square; but what excited us still more than the discovery

of the ruins was some beautiful hieroglyphics carved on one side of the

room directly beneath a human figure cut in relief and curiously

decorated, holding a sceptre in its hand.

"Observing a curious knob in one side of the room, Don Quavale took

hold of it roughly to see if it was a part of the wall, when to our

astonishment it clicked heavily, and an unseen door slowly swung open

revealing an inner room of the same size as the first, but different in

appearance. Having been kept closed and, as near as we could tell,

air-tight, it was still in its original appearance. The floor which was

entirely destitute of rubbish, was of beautiful white marble, smooth

and even as glass, while the sides were covered with paintings drawn on

the wall of the size of life, the colors still vivid and beautiful. The

characters drawn were men, birds and fishes, and sometimes a

nondescript animal--half eagle and half man--a perfect monster in

appearance. Overhead was a representation of the sun, the rays

emanating from the centre in flashing colors covered the surface and

finally died away in the softest possible tints of rose color. A more

perfect representation of the sun I never beheld, and as we gazed upon

it, it seemed as if we were contemplating some beautiful creation of an

artist of our own day rather than the remains of a people of whom we

know not even the name."

"What you have seen, exceeds in finish our discoveries," said Howe.

"Yes: we found there stranger things still," continued the curate.

"Ranged around three sides of the room, at regular intervals, were

knobs like the one on the door by which we entered, and on pressing one

with considerable force it slowly opened, and within we discovered a

small, low niche in which lay a corpse as perfect as if just deposited

there. It was that of a young woman with symmetrical form, dimpled

cheeks and flowing hair, decorated in rich habiliments of gorgeous

dyes, her waist encircled by a zone of diamonds, and her arms with

bracelets of precious stones. Wonder stricken at what we saw we gazed

in silence upon her, and while we gazed the body slowly crumbled away

and in half an hour it had dissolved in air leaving but a handful of

dust and the glittering gems that had decked her a bride of death, to

mark the spot where she lay. Turning another knob another door opened

like the previous ones, and in a niche before us lay a warrior in the

prime of manhood. He was very tall and muscular, a perfect Hercules in

proportions, with a broad, massive forehead and prominent features. He

was attired in a sort of uniform of curious workmanship. This

apparition vanished quicker than the other, owing probably, to the room

being better filled with fresh air. We had, without doubt, lighted on a

mausoleum of the lost people; and wishing to preserve the rest of the

niches for scientific investigation, we did not open any more. With

reverence we left the bodies of the builders of these ruins to their

repose.

"Proceeding onward we came, in two more days, to a high table land, on

which was a place known as Gran Quivira. It is now in ruins, but bears

the appearance of once having been a large populous city, regularly

laid out in streets at right angles. The city is about three miles

long, running from north-east, to north-west, and nearly a mile in

breadth. It is built of stone hewn and accurately fitted together. Some

of the houses are still standing, though the greater part of them are

thrown down. Entering one of these which exhibited signs of original

magnificence amidst the crumbling ruins around it, we found ourselves

in a capacious hall, the walls of which were covered with paintings of

which a faint tinge of distinct coloring was visible, but as the

figures had been cut in the wall before being colored they were easily

defined, and were similar to those we had found in the mausoleum two

days before. This room was so filled with rubbish, among which were the

dried bones and decayed carcasses of animals, that we were on the point

of quitting the disagreeable vicinity, when Campbell called our

attention to a stairway that descended to some place below. Descending

the steps with care--for the slabs of granite which composed them were

loosened and seemed ready to tumble down--we found ourselves in a room

entirely empty about eighteen feet square, the walls of which were

covered with figures in bas-relief and colored elaborately, the tints

being still vivid and quite fresh.

"We discovered on examination that we were on a level with the street,

and that time had accumulated a soil to the depth of many feet, hiding

the exterior of what had been, originally, the first floor, from view.

This room was also strewn with rubbish, but we saw enough of it to

suppose that the structure had been an imposing one when in the

possession of its builders. Leaving this structure, we followed some

fallen and shapeless masses of ruins until we came to a range of hills,

where we found a curious opening in them, which we soon ascertained to

be artificial, with the rock hewn away so as to give free egress from

within. Providing ourselves with torches, we penetrated this cavern,

and discovered it to be an ancient mine, with the implements of the

miners scattered around, as if the artisans had been suddenly

interrupted in their labors. There were crowbars quite like our own,

though not of iron, chisels, hammers, and a kind of axe more wieldy

than ours, but not unlike it. These implements of mining were black,

and all of the same kind of metal, but what metal it was, we could not

determine. We found also here vessels of pottery, beautiful in shape

and highly colored.[16]

[16] Since the above was written, a gentleman who became

acquainted with the above facts from the Curate, visited the spot

and made other discoveries of importance, which he communicated

to the Maryland Historical Society in an important document, to

which the reader is referred.

"Returning from the hills, we came to a large building, which must have

been five or six stories high, of which half of the walls were thrown

down. On clambering over the blocks of granite, we found, by what

remained that it had been a guard-house, as there were port-holes in

the walls which were four feet in thickness. This building, like the

others we had seen, was made of hewn stone, smoothly cut and fitted

together without any cement. Indeed they needed none, for the thinnest

knife-blade could not have been inserted between them. To the north of

this guard-house we found a reservoir in the form of an ellipse, its

axis one hundred and fifty yards in length, its breadth at least one

hundred, and its depth about fifty feet, paved at the bottom, and built

up at the sides with hewn stone. At the northern side an aqueduct

entered it, and this we followed a long way, but not finding where it

terminated, and being too fatigued to pursue it farther, we

returned.[17] The width of this channel is about twelve feet, and ten in

depth, finished at the bottom and the sides like the reservoir.

Continuing our journey, we followed the road which led us a little

north of west. We often saw Indians entirely nude who fled from us, and

as we took the precaution of getting out of their vicinity as soon as

our horses could carry us, we were not molested by them. We saw nothing

further of interest, until we struck the desert through which the road

lay, and, for the first time, we found it difficult to follow, as the

desert was without vegetation, the dry sand covering the whole extent

for miles around, with an arid and even surface. We should, in all

probability, have lost ourselves in that trackless waste, had there not

been huge shapeless piles of stone at intervals, and we soon found that

on digging down near these, we came to the paved road, and that on

removing the sand from around one of these piles of stone, we came upon

unmistakable evidences that they had once formed a building in all

probability to refresh travellers while journeying over this barren

waste.

[17] Within a year past the aqueduct has been traced forty miles,

terminating at the banks of a beautiful stream, which now empties

its waters into the Pecos, the mouth of the aqueduct being

blocked up.

"Keeping in the track as near as possible, we came to the Colorado, and

crossing over on a raft we made for the purpose, we saw on the western

side, rising from the plain at a considerable distance, a curious

shaft, and we soon found that the road ran by it. It must have been six

or eight miles from the Colorado, for we rode two hours before coming

to it, and when we did our astonishment was overwhelming to find a

pyramid rising one hundred and twenty feet from its base. It was level

at the top, and about fifty feet square, and afforded an easy ascent on

the opposite side from which it leaned. This pyramid projected ten

degrees from the perpendicular. I am inclined to think it was not built

in that position, but has been thrown out of an erect construction by

some convulsion of nature which, at the same time, displaced and threw

down the top. This conclusion we arrived at unanimously on examining

the structure, and a mass of fallen stone that lay at the base on the

side towards which it leaned. These were in a pile, shelving from the

pyramid, looking as though but lately fallen from above. If we were

right in our conclusion, the structure must have been one hundred and

fifty feet high. The sand had accumulated about its base to a great

depth, a fact we ascertained by digging it away a few feet. To lay bare

the shaft to the base was a greater task than we were able to

accomplish, and we left it to be more thoroughly explored by some

future antiquarian.[18]

[18] Early in the year 1853, a party of California explorers came

across this same pyramid, but as they were not prepared to

investigate it nothing new was elicited.

"It is impossible to describe the sensation we felt in standing before

this monument of the past--this proof of a once strong and powerful

people, who erected the structure. We knew that no European had ever

gazed on it before, and we almost expected to see the builders,

indignant at our intrusion, start up from the desert around, and drive

us from their shrines. Pursuing our journey, we found the road dotted

on either side, at intervals, with evidences of a once civilized

people; but nearly every vestige of peculiar interest about them had

been destroyed by time, save the bare blocks of granite, cut into

various forms to please the mysterious builders, all, all was gone! and

desolation had made their pleasant places her abode."

Twelve years have passed since Mr. Duncan and his family settled on the

California coast of the Pacific; and, in conclusion, let us look in

once more upon them and witness their prosperous condition.

In a neat and tastily arranged cottage sits a woman in the prime of

matronly beauty, with love and happiness beaming from her soft blue

eyes, as they wander in gratified pride from a fine boy some eight

years old, who stands at her side, to a man who sits reading by a

window that overlooks the beautiful landscape. This is the home of

Sidney and Jane, and they are now enjoying a life of contentment that

cannot fail to encircle their lives with a halo of bliss which gold can

never buy. They never recrossed the Sierra in search of the riches that

still lie buried in the mountains and desert, for the mere mention of

them, vividly recalls the recollection of the terrible sufferings they

endured in their wanderings through the wilds of the west. The rest of

Mr. Duncan's children are also happily settled near them, while the

trapper is an inhabitant of each cottage and the forest alternately, as

inclination dictates, and is supposed to be the most contented man in

the Pacific valley.

We said that twelve years had elapsed since our wanderers reached the

Pacific Valley--that is a short period of time, yet it is long enough

for events to transpire whose influences shall be felt for centuries to

come; long enough to develop the strength and resources of a continent.

Great is the change which civilization has made in that portion of the

west. The broad and almost interminable forests have yielded to the

woodman's axe; the streams and rivers, and even old Ocean itself, have

become transformed into channels of commerce and trade, and bear upon

their bosoms the auxiliaries of progress and science. The mountains and

valleys, where once nothing but the wild shouts of untutored savages

and the howls of beasts of prey broke the stillness of the dismal

solitude, are now vocal with the voice and bustle of civilization, as

in giant strides science and art triumph over the rough barriers, and

open avenues for the advancement of moral reform.

The changes have been equally advantageous to the prosperity of Mr.

Duncan, whose evening of life is surrounded with ease and wealth, while

peace and the love of his children render those years the most blissful

of an eventful lifetime. Everywhere throughout the Pacific border of

the Sierra Nevada, the indomitable spirit of enterprise and the

unchecked perseverance of Americanism are busy at work, and the _golden

results_ bid fair, in a few years to convert that auriferous region

into a granary of wealth and agricultural prosperity.

THE END.

STANDARD AND POPULAR BOOKS

PUBLISHED BY

PORTER & COATES, PHILADELPHIA, PA

WAVERLEY NOVELS. By SIR WALTER SCOTT.

*Waverley.

*Guy Mannering.

The Antiquary.

Rob Roy.

Black Dwarf; and Old Mortality.

The Heart of Mid-Lothian.

The Bride of Lammermoor; and A Legend of Montrose.

*Ivanhoe.

The Monastery.

The Abbott.

Kenilworth.

The Pirate.

The Fortunes of Nigel.

Peveril of the Peak.

Quentin Durward.

St. Ronan's Well.

Redgauntlet.

The Betrothed; and The Talisman.

Woodstock.

The Fair Maid of Perth.

Anne of Geierstein.

Count Robert of Paris; and Castle Dangerous.

Chronicles of the Canongate.

Household Edition. 23 vols. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, per vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half

calf, gilt, marbled edges, per vol., $3.00. Sold separately in cloth

binding only.

Universe Edition. 25 vols. Printed on thin paper, and containing one

illustration to the volume. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per

vol., 75 cts.

World Edition. 12 vols. Thick 12mo. (Sold in sets only.) Cloth, extra,

black and gold, $18.00; half imt. Russia, marbled edges, $24.00.

This is the best edition for the library or for general use

published. Its convenient size, the extreme legibility of the type,

which is larger than is used in any other 12mo. edition, either

English or American.

TALES OF A GRANDFATHER. By SIR WALTER SCOTT, Bart., 4 vols. Uniform

with the Waverley Novels.

Household Edition. Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per

vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half calf, gilt,

marbled edges, per vol., $3.00.

This edition contains the Fourth Series--Tales from French

history--and is the only complete edition published in this

country.

CHARLES DICKENS' COMPLETE WORKS. Author's Edition. 14 vols., with a

portrait of the author on steel, and eight illustrations by F. O. C.

Darley, Cruikshank, Fildes, Eytinge, and others, in each volume. 12mo.

Cloth, extra, black and gold, per vol., $1.00; sheep, marbled edges,

per vol., $1.50; half imt. Russia, marbled edges, per vol., $1.50; half

calf, gilt marbled edges, per vol., $2.75.

Pickwick Papers.

*Oliver Twist, Pictures of Italy, and American Notes.

*Nicholas Nickleby.

Old Curiosity Shop, and Reprinted Pieces.

Barnaby Rudge, and Hard Times.

*Martin Chuzzlewit.

Dombey and Son.

*David Copperfield.

Christmas Books, Uncommercial Traveller, and Additional Christmas Stories.

Bleak House.

Little Dorrit.

Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations.

Our Mutual Friend.

Edwin Drood, Sketches, Master Humphrey's Clock, etc., etc.

Sold separately in cloth binding only.

*Also in Alta Edition, one illustration, 75 cents.

The same. Universe Edition. Printed on thin paper and containing one

illustration to the volume. 14 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, per vol., 75 cents.

The same. World Edition. 7 vols., thick 12mo., $12.25. (Sold in sets

only.)

CHILD'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. By CHARLES DICKENS. Popular 12mo. edition;

from new electrotype plates. Large clear type. Beautifully illustrated

with 8 engravings on wood. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00.

Alta Edition. One illustration, 75 cents.

"Dickens as a novelist and prose poet is to be classed in the front

rank of the noble company to which he belongs. He has revived the

novel of genuine practical life, as it existed in the works of

Fielding, Smollett, and Goldsmith; but at the same time has given

to his material an individual coloring and expression peculiarly

his own. His characters, like those of his great exemplars,

constitute a world of their own, whose truth to nature every reader

instinctively recognizes in connection with their truth to

darkness."--_E. P. Whipple_.

MACAULAY'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the accession of James II. By

THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY. With a steel portrait of the author. Printed

from new electrotype plates from the last English Edition. Being by far

the most correct edition in the American market. 5 volumes, 12mo.

Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, per

set, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled

edges, per set, $15.00.

Popular Edition. 5 vols., cloth, plain, $5.00.

8vo. Edition. 5 volumes in one, with portrait. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, $3.00; sheep, marbled edges, $3.50.

MARTINEAU'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the beginning of the 19th Century

to the Crimean War, By HARRIET MARTINEAU. Complete in 4 vols., with

full Index. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $4.00; sheep,

marbled edges, $6.00; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00.

HUME'S HISTORY OF ENGLAND. From the invasion of Julius Cæsar to the

abdication of James II, 1688. By DAVID HUME. Standard Edition. With the

author's last corrections and improvements; to which is prefixed a

short account of his life, written by himself. With a portrait on

steel. A new edition from entirely new stereotype plates. 5 vols.,

12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled

edges, per set, $7.50; half imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, gilt,

marbled edges, per set, $15.00.

Popular Edition. 5 vols. Cloth, plain, $5.00.

GIBBON'S DECLINE AND FALL OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE. By EDWARD GIBBON. With

Notes, by Rev. H. H. MILMAN. Standard Edition. To which is added a

complete Index of the work. A new edition from entirely new stereotype

plates. With portrait on steel. 5 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, per set, $5.00; sheep, marbled edges, per set, $7.50; half

imitation Russia, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set,

$15.00.

Popular Edition. 5 vols. Cloth, plain, $5.00.

ENGLAND, PICTURESQUE AND DESCRIPTIVE. By JOEL COOK, author of "A

Holiday Tour in Europe," etc. With 487 finely engraved illustrations,

descriptive of the most famous and attractive places, as well as of the

historic scenes and rural life of England and Wales. With Mr. Cook's

admirable descriptions of the places and the country, and the splendid

illustrations, this is the most valuable and attractive book of the

season, and the sale will doubtless be very large. 4to. Cloth, extra,

gilt side and edges, $7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $10.00;

half morocco, full gilt edges, $10.00; full Turkey morocco, gilt edges,

$15.00; tree calf, gilt edges, $18.00.

This work, which is prepared in elegant style, and profusely

illustrated, is a comprehensive description of England and Wales,

arranged in convenient form for the tourist, and at the same time

providing an illustrated guide-book to a country which Americans

always view with interest. There are few satisfactory works about

this land which is so generously gifted by Nature and so full of

memorials of the past. Such books as there are, either cover a few

counties or are devoted to special localities, or are merely

guidebooks. The present work is believed to be the first attempt to

give in attractive form a description of the stately homes,

renowned castles, ivy-clad ruins of abbeys, churches, and ancient

fortresses, delicious scenery, rock-bound coasts, and celebrated

places of England and Wales. It is written by an author fully

competent from travel and reading, and in position to properly

describe his very interesting subject; and the artist's pencil has

been called into requisition to graphically illustrate its

well-written pages. There are 487 illustrations, prepared in the

highest style of the engraver's art, while the book itself is one

of the most attractive ever presented to the American public.

Its method of construction is systematic, following the most

convenient routes taken by tourists, and the letter-press includes

enough of the history and legend of each of the places described to

make the story highly interesting. Its pages fairly overflow with

picture and description, telling of everything attractive that is

presented by England and Wales. Executed in the highest style of

the printer's and engraver's art, "England, Picturesque and

Descriptive," is one of the best American books of the year.

HISTORY OF THE CIVIL WAR IN AMERICA. By the COMTE DE PARIS. With Maps

faithfully Engraved from the Originals, and Printed in Three Colors.

8vo. Cloth, per volume, $3.50; red cloth, extra, Roxburgh style, uncut

edges, $3.50; sheep, library style, $4.50; half Turkey morocco, $6.00.

Vols. I, II, and III now ready.

The third volume embraces, without abridgment, the fifth and sixth

volumes of the French edition, and covers one of the most

interesting as well as the most anxious periods of the war,

describing the operations of the Army of the Potomac in the East,

and the Army of the Cumberland and Tennessee in the West.

It contains full accounts of the battle of Chancellorsville, the

attack, the monitors on Fort Sumter, the sieges and fall of

Vicksburg and Port Hudson; the battles of Port Gibson and

Champion's Hill, and the fullest and most authentic account of the

battle of Gettysburg ever written.

* * * * *

"The head of the Orleans family has put pen to paper with excellent

result.... Our present impression is that it will form by far the

best history of the American war."--_Athenæum, London._

* * * * *

"We advise all Americans to read it carefully, and judge for

themselves if 'the future historian of our war,' of whom we have

heard so much, be not already arrived in the Comte de

Paris."--_Nation, New York._

* * * * *

"This is incomparably the best account of our great second

revolution that has yet been even attempted. It is so calm, so

dispassionate, so accurate in detail, and at the same time so

philosophical in general, that its reader counts confidently on

finding the complete work thoroughly satisfactory."--_Evening

Bulletin, Philadelphia._

* * * * *

"The work expresses the calm, deliberate judgment of an experienced

military observer and a highly intelligent man. Many of its

statements will excite discussion, but we much mistake if it does

not take high and permanent rank among the standard histories of

the civil war. Indeed that place has been assigned it by the most

competent critics both of this country and abroad."--_Times,

Cincinnati._

* * * * *

"Messrs. Porter & Coates, of Philadelphia, will publish in a few

days the authorized translation of the new volume of the Comte de

Paris' History of Our Civil War. The two volumes in French--the

fifth and sixth--are bound together in the translation in one

volume. Our readers already know, through a table of contents of

these volumes, published in the cable columns of the _Herald_,

the period covered by this new installment of a work remarkable in

several ways. It includes the most important and decisive period of

the war, and the two great campaigns of Gettysburg and Vicksburg.

"The great civil war has had no better, no abler historian than the

French Prince who, emulating the example of Lafayette, took part in

this new struggle for freedom, and who now writes of events, in

many of which he participated, as an accomplished officer, and one

who, by his independent position, his high character and eminent

talents, was placed in circumstances and relations which gave him

almost unequalled opportunities to gain correct information and

form impartial judgments.

"The new installment of a work which has already become a classic

will be read with increased interest by Americans because of the

importance of the period it covers and the stirring events it

describes. In advance of a careful review we present to-day some

extracts from the advance sheets sent us by Messrs. Porter &

Coates, which will give our readers a foretaste of chapters which

bring back to memory so many half-forgotten and not a few hitherto

unvalued details of a time which Americans of this generation at

least cannot read of without a fresh thrill of excitement."

HALF-HOURS WITH THE BEST AUTHORS. With short Biographical and Critical

Notes. By CHARLES KNIGHT.

New Household Edition. With six portraits on steel. 3 vols., thick

12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, per set, $4.50; half imt. Russia,

marbled edges, $6.00; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $12.00.

Library Edition. Printed on fine laid and tinted paper. With

twenty-four portraits on steel. 6 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, per set,

$7.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, per set, $18.00; half Russia,

gilt top, $21.00; full French morocco, limp, per set, $12.00; full

smooth Russia, limp, round corners, in Russia case, per set, $25.00;

full seal grained Russia, limp, round corners, in Russia case to match,

$25.00.

The excellent idea of the editor of these choice volumes has been

most admirably carried out, as will be seen by the list of authors

upon all subjects. Selecting some choice passages of the best

standard authors, each of sufficient length to occupy half an hour

in its perusal, there is here food for thought for every day in the

year: so that if the purchaser will devote but one-half hour each

day to its appropriate selection he will read through these six

volumes in one year, and in such a leisurely manner that the

noblest thoughts of many of the greatest minds will be firmly in

his mind forever. For every Sunday there is a suitable selection

from some of the most eminent writers in sacred literature. We

venture to say if the editor's idea is carried out the reader will

possess more and better knowledge of the English classics at the

end of the year than he would by five years of desultory reading.

They can be commenced at any day in the year. The variety of

reading is so great, that no one will ever tire of these volumes.

It is a library in itself.

THE POETRY OF OTHER LANDS. A Collection of Translations into English

Verse of the Poetry of Other Languages, Ancient and Modern. Compiled by

N. CLEMMONS HUNT. Containing translations from the Greek, Latin,

Persian, Arabian, Japanese, Turkish, Servian, Russian, Bohemian,

Polish, Dutch, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese

languages. 12mo. Cloth, extra, gilt edges, $2.50; half calf, gilt,

marbled edges, $4.00; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $6.00.

"Another of the publications of Porter & Coates, called 'The Poetry

of Other Lands,' compiled by N. Clemmons Hunt, we most warmly

commend. It is one of the best collections we have seen, containing

many exquisite poems and fragments of verse which have not before

been put into book form in English words. We find many of the old

favorites, which appear in every well-selected collection of

sonnets and songs, and we miss others, which seem a necessity to

complete the bouquet of grasses and flowers, some of which, from

time to time, we hope to republish in the

'Courier.'"--_Cincinnati Courier._

"A book of rare excellence, because it gives a collection of choice

gems in many languages not available to the general lover of

poetry. It contains translations from the Greek, Latin, Persian,

Arabian, Japanese, Turkish, Servian, Russian, Bohemian, Polish,

Dutch, German, Italian, French, Spanish, and Portuguese languages.

The book will be an admirable companion volume to any one of the

collections of English poetry that are now published. With the full

index of authors immediately preceding the collection, and the

arrangement of the poems under headings, the reader will find it

convenient for reference. It is a gift that will be more valued by

very many than some of the transitory ones at these holiday

times."--_Philadelphia Methodist._

THE FIRESIDE ENCYCLOPÆDIA OF POETRY. Edited by HENRY T. COATES. This is

the latest, and beyond doubt the best collection of poetry published.

Printed on fine paper and illustrated with thirteen steel engravings

and fifteen title pages, containing portraits of prominent American

poets and facsimiles of their handwriting, made expressly for this

book. 8vo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, gilt edges. $5.00; half calf,

gilt, marbled edges, $7.50; half morocco, full gilt edges. $7.50; full

Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $10.00; tree calf, gilt edges, $12.00;

plush, padded side, nickel lettering, $14.00.

"The editor shows a wide acquaintance with the most precious

treasures of English verse, and has gathered the most admirable

specimens of their ample wealth. Many pictures which have been

passed by in previous collections hold a place of honor in the

present volume, and will be heartily welcomed by the lovers of

poetry as a delightful addition to their sources of enjoyment. It

is a volume rich in solace, in entertainment, in inspiration, of

which the possession may well be coveted by every lover of poetry.

The pictorial illustrations of the work are in keeping with its

poetical contents, and the beauty of the typographical execution

entitles it to a place among the choicest ornaments of the

library."--_New York Tribune._

"Lovers of good poetry will find this one of the richest

collections ever made. All the best singers in our language are

represented, and the selections are generally those which reveal

their highest qualities.... The lights and shades, the finer play

of thought and imagination belonging to individual authors, are

brought out in this way (by the arrangement of poems under

subject-headings) as they would not be under any other system....

We are deeply impressed with the keen appreciation of poetical

worth, and also with the good taste manifested by the

compiler."--_Churchman._

"Cyclopædias of poetry are numerous, but for sterling value of its

contents for the library, or as a book of reference, no work of the

kind will compare with this admirable volume of Mr. Coates. It

takes the gems from many volumes, culling with rare skill and

judgment."--_Chicago Inter-Ocean._

THE CHILDRENS BOOK OF POETRY. Compiled by HENRY T. COATES. Containing

over 500 poems carefully selected from the works of the best and most

popular writers for children; with nearly 200 illustrations. The most

complete collection of poetry for children ever published. 4to. Cloth,

extra, black and gold, gilt side and edges, $3.00; full Turkey morocco,

gilt edges, $7.50.

"This seems to us the best book of poetry for children in

existence. We have examined many other collections, but we cannot

name another that deserves to be compared with this admirable

compilation."--_Worcester Spy._

"The special value of the book lies in the fact that it nearly or

quite covers the entire field. There is not a great deal of good

poetry which has been written for children that cannot be found in

this book. The collection is particularly strong in ballads and

tales, which are apt to interest children more than poems of other

kinds; and Mr. Coates has shown good judgment in supplementing this

department with some of the best poems of that class that have been

written for grown people. A surer method of forming the taste of

children for good and pure literature than by reading to them from

any portion of this book can hardly be imagined. The volume is

richly illustrated and beautifully bound."--_Philadelphia Evening

Bulletin._

"A more excellent volume cannot be found. We have found within the

covers of this handsome volume, and upon its fair pages, many of

the most exquisite poems which our language contains. It must

become a standard volume, and can never grow old or

obsolete."--_Episcopal Recorder._

THE COMPLETE WORKS OF THOS. HOOD. With engravings on steel. 4 vols.,

12mo., tinted paper. Poetical Works; Up the Rhine; Miscellanies and

Hood's Own; Whimsicalities, Whims, and Oddities. Cloth, extra, black

and gold, $6.00; red cloth, paper label, gilt top, uncut edges, $6.00;

half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $14.00; half Russia, gilt top, $18.00.

Hood's verse, whether serious or comic--whether serene like a

cloudless autumn evening or sparkling with puns like a frosty

January midnight with stars--was ever pregnant with materials for

the thought. Like every author distinguished for true comic humor,

there was a deep vein of melancholy pathos running through his

mirth, and even when his sun shone brightly its light seemed often

reflected as if only over the rim of a cloud.

Well may we say, in the words of Tennyson, "Would he could have

stayed with us." for never could it be more truly recorded of any

one--in the words of Hamlet characterizing Yorick--that "he was a

fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy." D. M. MOIR.

THE ILIAD OF HOMER RENDERED INTO ENGLISH BLANK VERSE. By EDWARD, EARL

OF DERBY. From the latest London edition, with all the author's last

revisions and corrections, and with a Biographical Sketch of Lord

Derby, by R. SHELTON MACKENZIE, D.C.L. With twelve steel engravings

from Flaxman's celebrated designs. 2 vols., 12mo. Cloth, extra, bev.

boards, gilt top, $3.50; half calf, gilt, marbled edges, $7.00; half

Turkey morocco, gilt top, $7.00.

The same. Popular edition. Two vols. in one. 12mo. Cloth, extra, $1.50.

"It must equally be considered a splendid performance; and for the

present we have no hesitation in saying that it is by far the best

representation of Homer's Iliad in the English

language."--_London Times._

"The merits of Lord Derby's translation may be summed up in one

word, it is eminently attractive; it is instinct with life; it may

be read with fervent interest; it is immeasurably nearer than Pope

to the text of the original.... Lord Derby has given a version far

more closely allied to the original, and superior to any that has

yet been attempted in the blank verse of our

language."--_Edinburg Review._

THE WORKS OF FLAVIUS JOSEPHUS. Comprising the Antiquities of the Jews;

a History of the Jewish Wars, and a Life of Flavius Josephus, written

by himself. Translated from the original Greek, by WILLIAM WHISTON,

A.M. Together with numerous explanatory Notes and seven Dissertations

concerning Jesus Christ, John the Baptist, James the Just, God's

command to Abraham, etc., with an Introductory Essay by Rev. H.

STEBBING, D.D. 8vo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, plain edges, $3.00;

cloth, red, black and gold, gilt edges, $4.50; sheep, marbled edges,

$3.50; Turkey morocco, gilt edges, $8.00.

This is the largest type one volume edition published.

THE ANCIENT HISTORY OF THE EGYPTIANS, CARTHAGINIANS, ASSYRIANS,

BABYLONIANS, MEDES AND PERSIANS, GRECIANS AND MACEDONIANS. Including a

History of the Arts and Sciences of the Ancients. By CHARLES ROLLIN.

With a Life of the Author, by JAMES BELL. 2 vols., royal 8vo. Sheep,

marbled edges, per set $6.00.

COOKERY FROM EXPERIENCE. A Practical Guide for Housekeepers in the

Preparation of Every-day Meals, containing more than One Thousand

Domestic Recipes, mostly tested by Personal Experience, with

Suggestions for Meals, Lists of Meats and Vegetables in Season, etc. By

Mrs. SARA T. PAUL. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.50.

Interleaved Edition. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.75.

THE COMPARATIVE EDITION OF THE NEW TESTAMENT. Both Versions in One

Book.

The proof readings of our Comparative Edition have been gone over by so

many competent proof readers, that we believe the text is absolutely

correct.

Large 12mo., 700 pp. Cloth, extra, plain edges, $1.50; cloth, extra,

bevelled boards and carmine edges, $1.75; imitation panelled calf,

yellow edges, $2.00; arabesque, gilt edges, $2.50; French morocco,

limp, gilt edges, $4.00; Turkey morocco, limp, gilt edges, $6.00.

The Comparative New Testament has been published by Porter &

Coates. In parallel columns on each page are given the old and new

versions of the Testament, divided also as far as practicable into

comparative verses, so that it is almost impossible for the

slightest new word to escape the notice of either the ordinary

reader or the analytical student. It is decidedly the best edition

yet published of the most interest-exciting literary production of

the day. No more convenient form for comparison could be devised

either for economizing time or labor. Another feature is the

foot-notes, and there is also given in an appendix the various

words and expressions preferred by the American members of the

Revising Commission. The work is handsomely printed on excellent

paper with clear, legible type. It contains nearly 700 pages.

THE COUNT OF MONTE CRISTO. By ALEXANDRE DUMAS. Complete in one volume,

with two illustrations by George G. White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black

and gold, $1.25.

THE THREE GUARDSMEN. By ALEXANDRE DUMAS. Complete in one volume, with

two illustrations by George G. White. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, $1.25.

There is a magic influence in his pen, a magnetic attraction in his

descriptions, a fertility in his literary resources which are

characteristic of Dumas alone, and the seal of the master of light

literature is set upon all his works. Even when not strictly

historical, his romances give an insight into the habits and modes

of thought and action of the people of the time described, which

are not offered in any other author's productions.

THE LAST DAYS OF POMPEII. By Sir EDWARD BULWER LYTTON, Bart.

Illustrated. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and gold, $1.00. Alta edition,

one illustration, 75 cts.

JANE EYRE. By CHARLOTTE BRONTË (Currer Bell). New Library Edition. With

five illustrations by E. M. WIMPERIS. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, $1.00.

SHIRLEY. By CHARLOTTE BRONTË (Currer Bell). New Library Edition. With

five illustrations by E. M. WIMPERIS. 12mo. Cloth, extra, black and

gold, $1.00.

End of Project Gutenberg's The American Family Robinson, by D. W. Belisle