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 "<rii30Nvsoi^ "^AJiaAiNn-^wv "^.j/odiiVDjo^ ^(i/ojnv3jo>^ '^xiirjNvsoi^
 
 OUR iTALr 
 
 BY CHARLES DUDLEY WARNER 
 
 Author of Their Pilgrimage^ Studies in 
 the South and West, A Little Journey 
 in the World . . With Many DTustrations 
 
 NEW TORE 
 
 HARPER ^ BROTHERS, FRANKLIN SQUARE 
 
 1902
 
 Copyright, 1891, by Harper & Brothers. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 OHAP. PAGK 
 
 I, HOW OUR ITALY IS MADE 1 
 
 II. OUK CLIMATIC AXD COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN .... 10 
 
 m. EARLY VICISSITUDES. PRODUCTIONS. SANITARY CLIMATE . 24 
 
 IV. THE WINTER OF OUR CONTENT 42 
 
 V. HEALTH AND LONGEVITY 52 
 
 VL IS RESIDENCE HERE AGREEABLE? 65 
 
 VII. THE WINTER ON THE COAST V2 
 
 VIIL THE GENERAL OUTLOOK. LAND AND PRICES 90 
 
 IX. THE ADVANTAGES OF IRRIGATION 99 
 
 X. THE CHANCE FOR LABORERS AND SMALL FARMERS. . . . 1 0*7 
 XI. SOME DETAILS OF THE WONDERFUL DEVELOPMENT. . . .114 
 
 ^ XII. HOW THE FRUIT PERILS WERE MET. FURTHER DETAILS OF 
 
 ^ LOCALITIES 128 
 
 >^ XIIL THE ADVANCE OF CULTIVATION SOUTHWARD 140 
 
 az 
 
 2 XIV. A LAND OF AGREEABLE HOMES 146 
 
 OO 
 
 3 XV. SOME WONDERS BY THE WAY. — YOSEMITE. — MARIPOSA TREES. 
 
 * MONTEREY 148 
 
 ^ XVI. FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. THE LAGUNA PUEBLO . .163 
 
 XVIL THE HEART OF THE DESERT .177 
 
 XVIII. ON THE BRINK OP THE GRAND CANON. — THE UNIQUE MARVEL 
 
 OF NATURE 189 
 
 APPENDIX , 201 
 
 INDEX 219 
 
 «> 1 /fl /li-^ri
 
 ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 SANTA BARBARA Frontispiece 
 
 rAon 
 
 MOJAVE DESERT 3 
 
 MOJAVE INDIAN 4 
 
 MOJAVE INDIAN 5 
 
 bird's-eye VIEW OP RIVERSIDE 7 
 
 SCENE IN SAN BERNARDINO • 11 
 
 SCENES IN MONTECITO AND LOS ANGELES 13 
 
 FAN-PALM, LOS ANGELES 16 
 
 YUCCA-PALM, SANTA BARBARA , 17 
 
 MAGNOLIA AVENUE, RIVERSIDE 21 
 
 AVENUE LOS ANGELES 27 
 
 IN THE GARDEN AT SANTA BARBARA MISSION 31 
 
 SCENE AT PASADENA 35 
 
 LIVE-OAK NEAR LOS ANGELES 39 
 
 MIDWINTER, PASADENA 53 
 
 A TYPICAL GARDEN, NEAR SANTA ANA 57 
 
 OLD ADOBE HOUSE, POMONA 61 
 
 FAN-PALM, FERNANDO ST. LOS ANGELES 63 
 
 SCARLET PASSION-VINE 68 
 
 ROSE-BUSH, SANTA BARBARA 73 
 
 AT AVALON, SANTA CATALINA ISLAND 77 
 
 HOTEL DEL CORONADO » 83 
 
 OSTRICH YARD, CORONADO BEACH 86 
 
 YUCCA-PALM 92 
 
 DATE-PALM 93 
 
 BAISIN-CURING 101 
 
 IRRIGATION BY ARTESIAN-WELL SYSTEM 104 
 
 IRRIGATION BY PIPE SYSTEM 105
 
 viii ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 FAOB 
 
 GARDEN SCENE, SANTA ANA 110 
 
 A GRAPE-VINE, MONTECITO VALLEY, SANTA BARBARA 116 
 
 IRRIGATING AN ORCHARD 120 
 
 ORANGE CULTURE ,121 
 
 IN A FIELD OF GOLDEN PUMPKINS 126 
 
 PACKING CHERRIES, POMONA 131 
 
 OLIVE-TREES SIX YEARS OLD 136 
 
 SEXTON NURSERIES, NEAR SANTA BARBARA 141 
 
 SWEETWATER DAM 144 
 
 THE YOSEMITE DOME 151 
 
 COAST OF MONTEREY 155 
 
 CYPRESS POINT 156 
 
 NEAR SEAL ROCK 15V 
 
 LAGUNA-FROM THE SOUTH-EAST 159 
 
 CHURCH AT LAGUNA 164 
 
 TERRACED HOUSES, PUEBLO OF LAGUNA .... 167 
 
 GRAND CANON ON THE COLORADO VIEW FROM POINT SUB- 
 LIME ivi 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH AT LAGUNA 174 
 
 GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO — VIEW OPPOSITE POINT SUB- 
 LIME 1'''^ 
 
 TOURISTS IN THE COLORADO CANON 183 
 
 GRAND CANON OF THE COLORADO VIEW FROM THE HANSE 
 
 TRAIL 191
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 HOW OUK ITALY IS MADE. 
 
 The traveller who descends into Italy by an Al- 
 pine pass never forgets the surprise and dehght of 
 the transition. In an hour he is whirled down the 
 slopes from the region of eternal snow to the verdure 
 of spring or the ripeness of summer. Suddenly — it 
 may be at a turn in the road — winter is left behind; 
 the plains of Lombardy are in view; the Lake of 
 Como or Maggiore gleams below; there is a tree; 
 there is an orchard; there is a garden; there is a 
 viUa overrun with vines ; the singing of bu'ds is heard ; 
 the air is gracious ; the slopes are terraced, and cov- 
 ered with vineyards; great sheets of silver sheen in 
 the landscape mark the growth of the ohve; the dark 
 green orchards of oranges and lemons are starred with 
 gold; the lusty fig, always a temptation as of old, 
 leans invitingly over the stone wall ; everywhere are 
 bloom and color under the blue sky; there are shrines 
 by the way -side, chapels on the hill; one hears the 
 melodious bells, the call of the vine - dressers, the 
 laughter of girls.
 
 2 OUE ITALY. 
 
 The contrast is as great from the Indians of the 
 Mojave Desert, two types of which are here given, to 
 the vine-dressers of the Santa Ana Valley. 
 
 Italy is the land of the imagination, but the sen- 
 sation on first beholding it from the northern heights, 
 aside from its associations of romance and poetry, can 
 be repeated in onr own land by whoever will cross the 
 burning desert of Colorado, or the savage wastes of 
 the Mojave wilderness of stone and sage-brush, and 
 come suddenly, as he must come by train, into the 
 bloom of Southern Cahfornia. Let us study a little 
 the physical conditions. 
 
 The bay of San Diego is about three hundred miles 
 east of San Francisco. The coast line runs south- 
 east, but at Point Conception it turns sharply east, 
 and then curves south-easterly about two hundred 
 and fifty miles to the Mexican coast boundary, the 
 extreme south-west limits of the United States, a 
 few miles below San Diego. This coast, defined by 
 these two hmits, has a southern exposure on the 
 sunniest of oceans. Off this coast, south of Point 
 Conception, lies a chain of islands, curving in posi- 
 tion in conformity with the shore, at a distance of 
 twenty to seventy miles from the main -land. These 
 islands are San Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz, Ana- 
 capa, Santa Barbara, San Nicolas, Santa Catahna, San 
 Clemente, and Los Coronados, which lie in Mexican 
 waters. Between this chain of islands and the main- 
 land is Santa Barbara Channel, flowing northward. 
 The great ocean current from the north flows past 
 Point Conception hke a mill - race, and makes a suc- 
 tion, or a sort of eddy. It approaches nearer the 
 coast in Lower California, where the return current,
 
 HOW OUK ITALY IS MADE. 
 
 which is much warmer, flows northward and westward 
 along the curving shore. The Santa Barbara Channel, 
 which may be called an arm of the Pacific, flows by 
 
 MOJA\'E DESERT. 
 
 many a bold point and lovely bay, hke those of San 
 Pedro, Redondo, and Santa Monica ; but it has no se- 
 cure harbor, except the magnificent and unique bay of 
 San Diego. 
 
 The southern and western boundary of Southern 
 California is this mild Pacific sea, studded with rocky 
 and picturesque islands. The northern boundary of 
 this region is ranges of lofty mountains, from five 
 thousand to eleven thousand feet in height, some of 
 them always snow -clad, which run eastward from 
 Point Conception nearly to the Colorado Desert. They 
 are parts of the Sierra Nevada range, but they take
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 various names, Santa Ynes, San Gabriel, San Bernar- 
 dino, and they are spoken of all together as the Sierra 
 Madre. In the San Grabriel group, "Old Baldy" hfts 
 its snow-peak over nine thousand feet, while the San 
 Bernardino "Grayback" rises over eleven thousand feet 
 above the sea. Southward of this, 
 running down into San Diego Coun- 
 ty, is the San Jacinto range, also 
 snow -clad; and eastward the land 
 falls rapidly away into the Salt Des- 
 ert of the Colorado, in which is a 
 depression about three hundred feet 
 below the Pacific. 
 
 The Point Arguilles, which is 
 above Point Conception, by the aid 
 of the outlying islands, deflects the 
 cold current from the north off the 
 coast of Southern California, and the 
 mountain ranges from Point Con- 
 ception east divide the State of Cal- 
 ifornia into two climatic regions, 
 the southern having more warmth, 
 less rain and fog, milder winds, and less variation of 
 daily temperature than the chmate of Central Cali- 
 fornia to the north.* Other striking climatic condi- 
 tions are produced by the daily interaction of the 
 Pacific Ocean and the Colorado Desert, infinitely di- 
 versified in minor particulars by the exceedingly bro- 
 ken character of the region — a jumble of bare mount- 
 ains, fruitful foot-hills, and rich valleys. It would be 
 
 v-p.^ 
 
 * For these and other observations upon physical and climatic conditions I am 
 wholly indebted to Dr. P. C. Remondino and Mr. T. S. Van Dyke, of San Diego, 
 both scientific and competent authorities.
 
 HOW OUR ITALY IS MADE. 
 
 only from a balloon that one could get an adequate 
 idea of this strange land. 
 
 The United States has here, then, a unique corner 
 of the earth, without its like in its own vast territory, 
 and unparalleled, so far as I know, in the world. Shut 
 off from sympathy with external conditions by the 
 giant mountain ranges and the desert wastes, it has its 
 own chmate unaffected by cosmic changes. Except a 
 tidal w^ave from Japan, nothing would seem to be able 
 to affect or disturb it. The whole of Italy feels more 
 or less the chmatic variations of the rest of Europe. 
 All our Atlantic coast, all our interior basin from 
 Texas to Manitoba, is in climatic sym- 
 pathy. Here is a region larger than 
 New England which manufactures its 
 own weather and refuses to import 
 any other. 
 
 With considerable varieties of tem- 
 perature according to elevation or 
 protection from the ocean breeze, its 
 climate is nearly, on the whole, as 
 agreeable as that of the Hawaiian Isl- 
 ands, though pitched in a lower key, 
 and with greater variations between 
 day and night. The key to its pecu- 
 liarity, aside fi'oni its southern expos- 
 ure, is the Colorado Desert. That 
 desert, waterless and treeless, is cool 
 at night and intolerably hot in the 
 daytime, sending uj) a vast column of hot air, w^hich 
 cannot escape eastward, for Arizona manufactures a 
 like column. It flows high above the mountains west- 
 ward till it strikes the Pacific and parts with its heat,
 
 6 OUR ITALY. 
 
 creating an immense vacumn which, is filled by the 
 air from the coast flowing up the slope and over the 
 range, and plunging down 6000 feet into the desert. 
 "It is easy to understand," says Mr. Van Dyke, making 
 his observations from the summit of the Cuyamaca, in 
 San Diego County, 6500 feet above the sea-level, "how 
 land thus rising a mile or more in fifty or sixty miles, 
 rising away from the coast, and falhng off abruptly a 
 mile deep into the driest and hottest of American des- 
 erts, could have a great variety of climates. . . . Only 
 ten miles away on the east the summers are the hottest, 
 and only sixty miles on the west the coolest known in 
 the United States (except on this coast), and between 
 them is every combination that mountains and valleys 
 can produce. And it is easy to see whence comes the 
 sea-breeze, the glory of the Cahfornia summer. It is 
 passing us here, a gentle breeze of six or eight miles 
 an hour. It is fiowing over this great ridge directly 
 into the basin of the Colorado Desert, 6000 feet deep, 
 where the temperature is probably 120°, and perhaps 
 higher. For many leagues each side of us this cur- 
 rent is thus flowing at the same speed, and is prob- 
 ably half a mile or more in depth. About sundown, 
 when the air on the desert cools and descends, the 
 current wiU change and come the other way, and flood 
 these western slopes with an air as pure as that of the 
 Sahara and nearly as dry. 
 
 " The air, heated on the western slopes by the sea, 
 would by rising produce considerable suction, which 
 could be filled only from the sea, but that alone would 
 not make the sea-breeze as dry as it is. The principal 
 suction is caused by the rising of heated air from the 
 great desert. . . . On the top of old Grayback (in San
 
 HOW OUR ITALY IS MADE. 
 
 BIRDS-EYE VIEW OP RIVERSIDE. 
 
 <^^^ 
 
 -•-^ , 
 
 ",v ? 
 
 
 't- 
 
 
 f:.;:> 
 
 
 
 ■^ 
 
 ►^.: 
 
 
 
 4 
 
 jS"V' 
 
 
 
 <'?■? 
 
 -i 
 
 
 Bernardino) one can feel it [this breeze] setting west- 
 ward, while in the canons, 6000 feet below, it is blow- 
 ing eastward. . . . All over Southern California the 
 conditions of this breeze are about the same, the great 
 Mojave Desert and the valley of the San Joaquin 
 above operating in the same way, assisted by interior
 
 8 OUR ITALY. 
 
 plains and slopes. Hence these deserts, that at first 
 seem to be a disadvantage to the land, are the great 
 conditions of its climate, and are of far more value 
 than if they were hke the prairies of Ilhnois. Fort- 
 unately they will remain deserts forever. Some parts 
 will in time be reclaimed by the waters of the Col- 
 orado River, but wet spots of a few hundred thousand 
 acres would be too trifling to affect general results, for 
 milhons of acres of burning desert would forever defy 
 all attempts at irrigation or settlement." 
 
 This desert-born breeze explains a seeming anom- 
 aly in regard to the humidity of this coast. I have 
 noticed on the sea -shore that salt does not become 
 damp on the table, that the Portuguese fishermen on 
 Point Loma are drying their fish on the shore, and 
 that while the hydrometer gives a humidity as high 
 as seventy-four, and higher at times, and fog may pre- 
 vail for three or four days continuously, the fog is 
 rather " dry," and the general impression is that of a 
 dry instead of the damp and chilhng atmosphere such 
 as exists in foggy times on the Atlantic coast. 
 
 " From the study of the origin of this breeze we 
 see," says Mr. Van Dyke, "why it is that a wind 
 coming from the broad Pacific should be drier than 
 the dry land-breezes of the Atlantic States, caus- 
 ing no damp walls, swelhng doors, or rusting guns, 
 and even on the coast drying up, without salt or 
 soda, meat cut in strips an inch thick and fish much 
 thicker." 
 
 At times on the coast the air contains plenty of 
 moisture, but with the rising of this breeze the moist- 
 ure decreases instead of increases. It should be said 
 also that this constantly returning current of air is
 
 HOW OUE ITALY IS MADE. 9 
 
 always pure, coming in contact nowhere with marshy 
 or malarious influences nor any agency injurious to 
 health. Its character causes the whole coast from 
 Santa Barbara to San Diego to be an agreeable place 
 of residence or resort summer and winter, while its 
 daily inflowing tempers the heat of the far inland val- 
 leys to a dehghtful atmosphere in the shade even in 
 midsummer, while cool nights are every w^here the rule. 
 The greatest surprise of the traveller is that a region 
 which is in perpetual bloom and fruitage, where semi- 
 tropical fruits mature in perfection, and the most 
 dehcate flowers dazzle the eye with color the mnter 
 through, should have on the whole a low temperature, 
 a chmate never enervating, and one requiring a dress 
 of woollen in every month.
 
 CHAPTEK II. 
 OUR CLIMATIC AND COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 
 
 Winter as we "understand it east of the Rockies 
 does not exist. I scarcely know how to divide the 
 seasons. There are at most but three. Spring may 
 be said to begin with December and end in April; 
 summer, with May (whose days, however, are often 
 cooler than those of January), and end with Septem- 
 ber ; while October and November are a mild autumn, 
 when nature takes a partial rest, and the leaves of the 
 deciduous trees are gone. But how shall we classify 
 a climate in which the strawberry (none yet in my ex- 
 perience equal to the Eastern berry) may be eaten in 
 every month of the year, and ripe figs may be picked 
 from July to March ? What shall I say of a frost (an 
 affair of only an hour just before sunrise) which is 
 hardly anywhere severe enough to disturb the dehcate 
 heliotrope, and even in the deepest valleys where it 
 may chill the orange, will respect the bloom of that 
 fruit on contiguous ground fiity or a hundred feet 
 higher? We boast about many things in the United 
 States, about our bhzzards and our cyclones, our inun- 
 dations and our areas of low pressure, our hottest and 
 our coldest places in the world, but what can we say 
 for this httle corner which is practically frostless, and 
 yet never had a sunstroke, knows nothing of thun- 
 der-storms and Hghtning, never experienced a cyclone,
 
 OUE CLIMATIC AND COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 11 
 
 which is SO warm that the year round one is tempted 
 to hve oiit-of-doors, and so cold that woollen garments 
 are never uncomfortable'? Nature here, in this pro- 
 tected and petted area, has the knack of being genial 
 without being enervating, of being stimulating with- 
 out " bracing" a person into the tomb. I think it con- 
 ducive to equanimity of spirit and to longe^dty to sit 
 in an orange grove and eat the fruit and inhale the 
 fragrance of it while gazing upon a snow-mountain. 
 
 SCENE IN SAN BERNARDINO. 
 
 This southward-facing portion of California is irri- 
 gated by many streams of pure water rapidly falhng 
 from the mountains to the sea. The more important 
 are the Santa Clara, the Los Angeles and San Glabriel, 
 the Santa Ana, the Santa Margarita, the San Luis 
 Rey, the San Bernardo, the San Diego, and, on the 
 Mexican border, the Tia Juana. Many of them go 
 dry or flow underground in the summer months (or, 
 as the Californians say, the bed of the river gets on 
 top), but most of them can be used for artificial imga-
 
 12 OUE ITALY. 
 
 tion. In the lowlands water is sufficiently near the 
 surface to moisten the soil, which is broken and culti- 
 vated ; in most regions good wells are reached at a 
 small depth, in others artesian -wells spout up abun- 
 dance of water, and considerable portions of the re- 
 gions best known for fruit are watered by irrigating 
 ditches and pipes supplied by ample reservoirs in the 
 mountains. From natural rainfall and the sea moist- 
 ure the mesas and hills, which look arid before plough- 
 ing, produce large crops of grain when cultivated after 
 the annual rains, without artificial watering. 
 
 Southern California has been slowly understood 
 even by its occupants, who have wearied the world 
 with boasting of its productiveness. Originally it was 
 a vast cattle and sheep ranch. It was supposed that 
 the land was worthless except for grazing. Held in 
 princely ranches of twenty, fifty, one hundred thou- 
 sand acres, in some cases areas larger than German 
 principalities, tens of thousands of cattle roamed along 
 the watercourses and over the mesas, vast flocks of 
 sheep cropped close the grass and trod the soil into 
 hard-pan. The owners exchanged cattle and sheep for 
 corn, grain, and garden vegetables ; they had no faith 
 that they could grow cereals, and it was too much 
 trouble to procure water for a garden or a fruit or- 
 chard. It was the firm belief that most of the rolling 
 mesa land was unfit for cultivation, and that neither 
 forest nor fruit trees would grow without irrigation. 
 Between Los Angeles and Redondo Beach is a ranch 
 of 35,000 acres. Seventeen years ago it was owned by 
 a Scotchman, who used the whole of it as a sheep 
 ranch. In selling it to the present owner he warned 
 him not to waste time by attempting to farm it; he
 
 SCENES IN MONTECITO AND LOS ANGELES.
 
 14 OUB ITALY. 
 
 himself raised no fruit or vegetables, planted no trees, 
 and bought all his corn, wheat, and barley. The pur- 
 chaser, however, began to experiment. He planted 
 trees and set out orchards which grew, and in a couple 
 of years he wrote to the former owner that he had 
 8000 acres in fine wheat. To say it in a word, there is 
 scarcely an acre of the tract which is not highly pro- 
 ductive in barley, wheat, corn, potatoes, while consid- 
 erable parts of it are especially adapted to the English 
 walnut and to the citrus fruits. 
 
 On this route to the sea the road is lined with gar- 
 dens. Nothing could be more unpromising in appear- 
 ance than this soil before it is ploughed and pulverized 
 by the cultivator. It looks like a barren waste. We 
 passed a tract that was offered three years ago for 
 twelve dollars an acre. Some of it now is rented to 
 Chinamen at thirty dollars an acre; and I saw one 
 field of two acres off which a Chinaman has sold in 
 one season $750 worth of cabbages. 
 
 The truth is that almost all the land is wonderfully 
 productive if intelligently handled. The low ground 
 has water so near the surface that the pulverized 
 soil will draw up sufficient moisture for the crops ; the 
 mesa, if sown and cultivated after the annual rains, 
 matures grain and corn, and sustains vines and fruit- 
 trees. It is singular that the first settlers should never 
 have discovered this productiveness. When it became 
 apparent — that is, productiveness without artificial wa- 
 tering — there spread abroad a notion that irrigation 
 generally was not needed. We shall have occasion to 
 speak of this more in detail, and I will now only say, 
 on good authority, that while cultivation, not to keep 
 down the weeds only, but to keep the soil stirred and
 
 OUB CLBIATIC AND COM^IEKCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 15 
 
 prevent its baking, is the prime necessity for almost all 
 land in Southern Cahfornia, there are portions where 
 irrigation is always necessary, and there is no spot 
 where the yield of fruit or grain will not be quadru- 
 pled by judicious irrigation. There are places where 
 UTigation is excessive and harmful both to the qual- 
 ity and quantity of oranges and grapes. 
 
 The history of the extension of cultivation in the 
 last twenty and especially in the past ten years from 
 the foot-hills of the Sierra Madi^e in Los Angeles and 
 San Bernardino counties southward to San Diego is 
 very curious. Experiments were timidly tried. Every 
 acre of sand and sage-bush reclaimed southward was 
 supposed to be the last capable of profitable farming 
 or fruit-growing. It is unsafe now to say of any land 
 that has not been tried that it is not good. In every 
 valley and on every hill-side, on the mesas and in the 
 sunny nooks in the mountains, nearly anything will 
 grow, and the appUcation of water produces marvel- 
 lous results. From San Bernardino and Redlands, 
 Riverside, Pomona, Ontario, Santa Anita, San Grabriel, 
 Pasadena, aU the way to Los Angeles, is almost a con- 
 tinuous fruit garden, the green areas only empha- 
 sized by wastes yet unreclaimed ; a land of charming 
 cottages, thriving towns, hospitable to the fruit of 
 every chme; a land of perpetual sun and ever-flowing 
 breeze, looked down on by purple mountain ranges 
 tipped here and there with enduring snow. And what 
 is in progress here will be seen before long in almost 
 every part of this wonderful land, for conditions of 
 soil and climate are essentially everywhere the same, 
 and capital is finding out how to store in and bring 
 from the fastnesses of the mountains rivers of clear
 
 16 
 
 OUE ITALY. 
 
 FAN-PALM, LOS ANGELES. 
 
 water taken at such elevations that the whole ara- 
 ble surface can be irrigated. The development of the 
 country has only just begun. 
 
 If the reader will look upon the map of California 
 he will see that the eight counties that form Southern 
 California — San Luis Obispo, Santa Barbara, Yentura, 
 Kern, Los Angeles, San Bernardino, Orange, and San 
 Diego — appear very mountainous. He will also notice 
 that the eastern slopes of San Bernardino and San 
 Diego are deserts. But this is an immense area. San 
 Diego County alone is as large as Massachusetts, Con-
 
 OUR CLIMATIC AND COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 17 
 
 necticut, and Rhode Island combined, and the amount 
 of arable land in the valleys, on the foot-hills, on the 
 rolling mesas, is enormous, and capable of sustaining a 
 dense population, for its fertility and its yield to the 
 acre under cultivation are incomparable. The reader 
 will also notice another thing. With the railroads 
 now built and certain to be built through all this di- 
 versified region, round fi-om the Santa Barbara Mount- 
 ains to the San Bernardino, the San Jacinto, and 
 
 YUCCA-PALM, SANTA BARBARA.
 
 18 OUK ITALY. 
 
 down to Cuyamaca, a ride of an hour or two hours 
 brings one to some point on the 250 miles of sea-coast 
 — a sea -coast genial, inviting in winter and summer, 
 never harsh, and rarely tempestuous hke the Atlantic 
 shore. 
 
 Here is our Mediterranean ! Here is our Italy! It 
 is a Mediterranean without marshes and without mal- 
 aria, and it does not at all resemble the Mexican Grulf , 
 which we have sometimes tried to fancy was hke the 
 classic sea that laves Africa and Europe. Nor is this 
 region Italian in appearance, though now and then 
 some bay with its purple hills running to the blue sea, 
 its surrounding mesas and canons blooming in semi- 
 tropical luxuriance, some conjunction of shore and 
 mountain, some golden color, some white light and 
 sharply defined shadows, some refinement of hues, 
 some poetic tints in violet and ashy ranges, some 
 ultramarine in the sea, or dehcate blue in the sky, will 
 remind the traveller of more than one place of beauty 
 in Southern Italy and Sicily. It is a Mediterranean 
 with a more equable climate, warmer winters and 
 cooler summers, than the North Mediterranean shore 
 can offer; it is an Italy whose mountains and valleys 
 give almost every variety of elevation and temperature. 
 
 But it is our commercial Mediterranean. The time 
 is not distant when this corner of the United States 
 will produce in abundance, and year after year with- 
 out failure, all the fruits and nuts which for a thou- 
 sand years the civilized world of Europe has looked to 
 the Mediterranean to supply. We shall not need any 
 more to send over the Atlantic for raisins, Enghsh 
 walnuts, almonds, figs, ohves, prunes, oranges, lemons, 
 limes, and a variety of other things which we know
 
 OUK CLBIATIC AND COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 19 
 
 commercially as Mediterranean products. We have 
 all this luxury and wealth at our doors, within our 
 hmits. The orange and the lemon we shall still bring 
 from many places ; the date and the pineapple and the 
 banana will never grow here except as illustrations of 
 the chmate, but it is difficult to name any fruit of the 
 temperate and semi -tropic zones that Southern Cah- 
 fornia cannot be relied on to produce, from the guava 
 to the peach. 
 
 It will need further experiment to determine what 
 are the more profitable products of this soil, and it 
 will take longer experience to cultivate them and send 
 them to market in perfection. The pomegranate and 
 the apple thrive side by side, but the apple is not good 
 here unless it is gi'own at an elevation where frost is 
 certain and occasional snow may be expected. There 
 is no longer any doubt about the peach, the nectarine, 
 the pear, the grape, the orange, the lemon, the apricot, 
 and so on; but I believe that the greatest profit will 
 be in the products that cannot be grown elsewhere in 
 the United States — the products to which we have 
 long given the name of Mediterranean — the ohve, the 
 fig, the raisin, the hard and soft shell almond, and the 
 walnut. The orange will of course be a staple, and 
 constantly improve its reputation as better varieties 
 are raised, and the right amount of irrigation to pro- 
 duce the finest and sweetest is ascertained. 
 
 It is still a wonder that a land in which there was 
 no indigenous product of value, or to which cultiva- 
 tion could give value, should be so hospitable to every 
 sort of tree, shrub, root, grain, and fiower that can be 
 brought here from any zone and temperature, and 
 that many of these foreigners to the soil grow here
 
 20 OUR ITALY. 
 
 with a vigor and productiveness surpassing those in 
 their native land. Tliis bewildering adaptabihty has 
 misled many into unprofitable experiments, and the 
 very rapidity of growth has been a disadvantage. 
 The land has been advertised by its monstrous vege- 
 table productions, which are not fit to eat, and but 
 testify to the fertility of the soil ; and the reputation 
 of its fruits, both deciduous and citrus, has suffered 
 by specimens sent to Eastern markets whose sole rec- 
 ommendation was size. Even in the \4neyards and 
 orange orchards quality has been sacrificed to quan- 
 tity. Nature here responds generously to every en- 
 couragement, but it cannot be forced without taking 
 its revenge in the return of inferior quality. It is just 
 as true of Southern California as of any other land, 
 that hard work and sagacity and experience are neces- 
 sary to successful horticulture and agriculture, but 
 it is undeniably true that the same amount of well- 
 directed industry upon a much smaller area of land 
 will produce more return than in almost any other 
 section of the United States. Sensible people do not 
 any longer pay much attention to those tempting little 
 arithmetical sums by which it is demonstrated that 
 paying so much for ten acres of barren land, and so 
 much for planting it with vines or oranges, the in- 
 come in three years will be a competence to the in- 
 vestor and his family. People do not sj)end much 
 time now in gaping over abnormal vegetables, or try- 
 ing to convince themselves that wines of every known 
 variety and flavor can be produced within the limits 
 of one flat and well- watered field. Few now expect to 
 make a fortune by cutting arid land up into twenty- 
 feet lots, but notwithstanding the extravagance of re-
 
 OUR CLIMATIC AND COMMERCIAL MEDITERRANEAN. 23 
 
 cent speculation, tlie value of arable land has steadily 
 appreciated, and is not likely to recede, for the return 
 from it, either in fruits, vegetables, or grain, is dem- 
 onstrated to be beyond the experience of farming else- 
 where. 
 
 Land cannot be called dear at one hundred or one 
 thousand dollars an acre if the annual return from it 
 is fifty or five hundred dollars. The climate is most 
 agreeable the year through. There are no unpleasant 
 months, and few unpleasant days. The eucalyptus 
 grows so fast that the trunmings from the trees of a 
 small grove or highway avenue will in four or five 
 years furnish a family with its firewood. The strong, 
 fattening aKalfa gives three, four, five, and even six 
 harvests a year. Nature needs httle rest, and, with 
 the encouragement of water and fertihzers, apparently 
 none. But all this prodigahty and easiness of life de- 
 tracts a httle from ambition. The lesson has been 
 slowly learned, but it is now pretty well conned, that 
 hard work is as necessary here as elsewhere to thrift 
 and independence. The difference between this and 
 many other parts of our land is that nature seems to 
 work with a man, and not against him.
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EAELY VICISSITUDES. — PRODUCTIONS. — SANITARY 
 CLIMATE. 
 
 Southern California has rapidly passed through 
 varied experiences, and has not yet had a fair chance 
 to show the world what it is. It had its period of ro- 
 mance, of pastoral life, of lawless adventure, of crazy 
 speculation, all within a hundred years, and it is just 
 now entering upon its period of sohd, civihzed devel- 
 opment. A certain light of romance is cast upon this 
 coast by the Spanish voyagers of the sixteenth cen- 
 tury, but its history begins with the establishment of 
 the chain of Franciscan missions, the first of which 
 was founded by the great Father Junipero Serra at 
 San Diego in 1769. The fathers brought with them 
 the vine and the olive, reduced the savage Indians to 
 industrial pursuits, and opened the way for that ran- 
 chero and adobe civilization which, down to the com- 
 ing of the American, in about 1840, made in this re- 
 gion the most picturesque hfe that our continent has 
 ever seen. Following this is a period of desperado 
 adventure and revolution, of pioneer State -building; 
 and then the advent of the restless, the cranky, the 
 invalid, the fanatic, from every other State in the 
 Union. The first experimenters in making homes 
 seem to have fancied that they had come to a ready- 
 made elysium — the idle man's heaven. They seem to
 
 EAKLY ^aCISSITUDES, PRODUCTIONS, ETC. 25 
 
 have brought with them httle knowledge of agrieult- 
 ui-e or horticulture, were ignorant of the conditions of 
 success in this soil and climate, and left behind the 
 good industrial maxims of the East. The result was 
 a period of chance experiment, one in which extrava- 
 gant expectation and boasting to some extent took the 
 place of industry. The imagination was heated by 
 the novelty of such varied and rapid productiveness. 
 Men's minds were inflamed by the apparently limitless 
 possibilities. The invahd and the speculator throng- 
 ed the transcontinental roads leading thither. In this 
 condition the frenzy of 1886-87 was ine\dtable. I saw 
 something of it in the winter of 1887. The scenes 
 then daily and commonplace now read like the wild- 
 est freaks of the imagination. 
 
 The bubble collapsed as suddenly as it expanded. 
 Many were ruined, and left the country. More were 
 merely ruined in their great expectations. The spec- 
 ulation was in town lots. When it subsided it left 
 the climate as it was, the fertility as it was, and the 
 value of arable land not reduced. Marvellous as the 
 boom was, I think the present recuperation is still 
 more wonderful. In 1890, to be sure, I miss the 
 bustle of the cities, and the creation of towns in a 
 week under the hammer of the auctioneer. But in all 
 the cities, and most of the villages, there has been 
 growth in substantial buildings, and in the necessities 
 of civic life — good sewerage, water supply, and gen- 
 eral organization; while the country, as the acreage 
 of vines and oranges, wheat and barley, grain and 
 corn, and the shipments by rail testify, has imi3roved 
 more than at any other period, and commerce is be- 
 ginning to feel the impulse of a genuine prosperity,
 
 26 OUE ITALY. 
 
 based upon the intelligent cultivation of the ground. 
 School -houses have multiplied; libraries have been 
 founded ; many " boom " hotels, built in order to sell 
 city lots in the sage-brush, have been turned into 
 schools and colleges. 
 
 There is immense rivalry between different sec- 
 tions. Every Californian thinks that the spot where 
 his house stands enjoys the best climate and is the 
 most fertile in the world ; and while you are with him 
 you think he is justified in his opinion ; for this rival- 
 ry is generally a wholesome one, backed by industry. 
 I do not mean to say that the habit of tall talk is al- 
 together lost. Whatever one sees he is asked to be- 
 heve is the largest and best in the world. The gentle- 
 man of the whip who showed us some of the finest 
 places in Los Angeles — places that in their wealth of 
 flowers and semi-tropical gardens would rouse the 
 enthusiasm of the most jaded traveller — was asked 
 whether there were any finer in the city. " Finer ? 
 Hundreds of them;" and then, meditatively and re- 
 gretfully, " I should not dare to show you the best." 
 The semi-ecclesiastical custodian of the old adobe mis- 
 sion of San Gabriel explained to us the twenty por- 
 traits of apostles on the walls, all done by Murillo. 
 As they had got out of repair, he had them all re- 
 painted by the best artist. " That one," he said, sim- 
 ply, " cost ten dollars. It often costs more to repaint 
 a picture than to buy an original." 
 
 The temporary evils in the train of the "boom" 
 are fast disappearing. I was told that I should find 
 the country stagnant. Trade, it is true, is only slowly 
 coming in, real -estate deals are sleeping, but in all 
 avenues of sohd prosperity and productiveness the
 
 EAELY VICISSITUDES, PRODUCTIONS, ETC. 29 
 
 country is the reverse of stagnant. Another misap- 
 prehension this visit is correcting. I was told not to 
 visit Southern Cahfornia at this season on account of 
 the heat. But I have no experience of a more de- 
 hghtful summer cUmate than tliis, especially on or 
 near the coast. 
 
 In secluded valleys in the interior the thermometer 
 rises in the daytime to 85°, 90°, and occasionally 100°, 
 but I have found no place in them where there was 
 not daily a refreshing breeze from the ocean, where 
 the dryness of the air did not make the heat seem 
 much less than it was, and where the nights were not 
 agreeably cool. My behef is that the summer climate 
 of Southern Cahfornia is as desirable for pleasure- 
 seekers, for invalids, for workmen, as its winter cli- 
 mate. It seems to me that a coast temperature 60° 
 to 75°, stimulating, ^\dthout harshness or dampness, is 
 about the perfection of summer w^eather. It should 
 be said, however, that there are secluded valleys 
 which become very hot in the daytime in midsum- 
 mer, and intolerably dusty. The dust is the great 
 annoyance everywhere. It gives the whole landscape 
 an ashy tint, like some of our Eastern fields and way- 
 sides in a dry August. The verdure and the wild 
 flowers of the rainy season disappear entirely. There 
 is, however, some picturesque compensation for this 
 dust and lack of green. The mountains and hills and 
 great plains take on w^onderful hues of bi'own, yellow, 
 and red. 
 
 I write this paragraph in a high chamber in the 
 Hotel del Coronado, on the great and fertile beach in 
 front of San Diego. It is the 2d of June. Looking 
 southward, I see the great expanse of the Pacific
 
 30 OUE ITALY. 
 
 Ocean, sparkling in the sun as blue as the waters at 
 Amalfi. A low surf beats along the miles and miles 
 of white sand continually, with the impetus of far-off 
 seas and trade -winds, as it has beaten for thousands 
 of years, with one unending roar and swish, and 
 occasional shocks of sound as if of distant thunder 
 on the shore. Yonder, to the right, Point Loma 
 stretches its sharp and rocky promontory into the 
 ocean, purple in the sun, bearing a light -house on its 
 highest elevation. From this signal, bending in a 
 perfect crescent, with a silver rim, the shore sweeps 
 around twenty -five miles to another promontory run- 
 ning down beyond Tia Juana to the Point of Rocks, 
 in Mexican territory. Directly in front — they say 
 eighteen miles away, I think five sometimes, and 
 sometimes a hundred — lie the islands of Coronado, 
 named, I suppose, from the old Spanish adventurer 
 Vasques de Coronado, huge bulks of beautiful red 
 sandstone, uninhabited and barren, becalmed there in 
 the changing blue of sky and sea, hke enormous 
 mastless galleons, like degraded icebergs, hke Capri 
 and Ischia. They say that they are stationary. I 
 only know that when I walk along the shore towards 
 Point Loma they seem to follow, until they he oppo- 
 site the harbor entrance, which is close by the prom- 
 ontory; and that when I return, they recede and go 
 away towards Mexico, to which they belong. Some- 
 times, as seen from the beach, owing to the differ- 
 ence in the humidity of the strata of air over the 
 ocean, they seem smaller at the bottom than at the 
 top. Occasionally they come quite near, as do the 
 sea -lions and the gulls, and again they almost fade 
 out of the horizon in a violet light. This morning
 
 IN THE GARDEN AT SANTA BAKBARA MISSION.
 
 EAELY ATCISSITUDES, PRODUCTIONS, ETC. 33 
 
 they stand away, and the fleet of white-sailed fishing- 
 boats from the Portuguese hamlet of La Playa, ^\ith- 
 in the harbor entrance, which is dancing off Point 
 Loma, will have a long sail if they pui'sue the barra- 
 cuda to those shadowy rocks. 
 
 We crossed the bay the other day, and drove wp 
 a \\ald road to the height of the promontory, and 
 along its narrow ridge to the light -house. This site 
 commands one of the most remarkable views in the 
 accessible civilized world, one of the three or four 
 really great prospects which the traveller can recall, 
 astonishing in its immensity, interesting in its pecul- 
 iar details. The general features are the great ocean, 
 blue, flecked with sparkling, breaking wavelets, and 
 the wide, curving coast -line, rising into mesas, foot- 
 hills, ranges on ranges of mountains, the faintly seen 
 snow -peaks of San Bernardino and San Jacinto to 
 the Cuyamaca and the flat top of Table Mountain in 
 Mexico. Directly under us on one side are the fields 
 of kelp, where the whales come to feed in winter; 
 and on the other is a point of sand on Coronado 
 Beach, where a flock of pelicans have assembled after 
 their day's fishing, in which occupation they are the 
 rivals of the Portuguese. The perfect crescent of 
 the ocean beach is seen, the singular formation of 
 North and South Coronado Beach, the , entrance to 
 the harbor along Point Loma, and the spacious inner 
 bay, on which lie San Diego and National City, with 
 lowlands and heights outside sprinkled with houses, 
 gardens, orchards, and vineyards. The near hills 
 about this harbor are varied in form and poetic in 
 color, one of them, the conical San Miguel, con- 
 stantly recalling Vesuvius. Indeed, the near \iew, in 
 
 3
 
 34 OUR ITALY. 
 
 color, vegetation, and forms of Mils and extent of 
 arable land, suggests that of Naples, though on anal- 
 ysis it does not resemble it. If San Diego had half 
 a million of people it would be more hke it ; but the 
 Naples view is limited, while this stretches away to 
 the great mountains that overlook the Colorado Des- 
 ert. It is certainly one of the loveliest prospects in 
 the world, and worth long travel to see. 
 
 Standing upon this point of ^dew, I am reminded 
 again of the striking contrasts and contiguous differ- 
 ent chmates on the coast. In the north, of course not 
 visible from here, is Mount Whitney, on the borders 
 of Inyo County and of the State of Nevada, 15,086 
 feet above the sea, the highest peak in the United 
 States, excluding Alaska. South of it is Grayback, in 
 the San Bernardino range, 11,000 feet in altitude, the 
 highest point above its base in the United States. 
 While south of that is the depression in the Col- 
 orado Desert in San Diego County, about three hun- 
 dred feet below the level of the Pacific Ocean, the 
 lowest land in the United States. These three ex- 
 ceptional points can be said to be almost in ^ight of 
 each other. 
 
 I have insisted so much upon the Mediterranean 
 character of this region that it is necessary to em- 
 phasize the contrasts also. Reserving details and 
 comments on different locahties as to the commercial 
 value of products and climatic conditions, I will make 
 some general observations. I am convinced that the 
 fig can not only be grown here in sufficient quantity 
 to supply our markets, but of the best quahty. The 
 same may be said of the Enghsh walnut. This clean 
 and handsome tree thrives wonderfully in large areas.
 
 EAELY \T:CISSITUDES, PRODUCTIONS, ETC. 37 
 
 and has no enemies. The ohve culture is in its in- 
 fancy, but I have never tasted better oil than that 
 produced at Santa Barbara and on San Diego Bay. 
 Specimens of the pickled olive are delicious, and when 
 the best varieties are generally grown, and the best 
 method of curing is adopted, it will be in great de- 
 mand, not as a mere relish, but as food. The raisin 
 is produced in all the valleys of Southern California, 
 and in great quantities in the hot valley of San Joa- 
 quin, beyond the Sierra Madre range. The best Mal- 
 aga raisins, which have the reputation of being the 
 best in the world, may never come to our market, l^ut 
 I have never eaten a better raisin for size, flavor, and 
 thinness of skin than those raised in the El Cajon 
 Valley, which is watered by the great flume which 
 taps a reservoir in the Cuyamaca Mountains, and sup- 
 plies San Diego. But the quahty of the raisin in Cal- 
 ifornia will be improved by experience in cultivation 
 and handling. 
 
 The contrast with the Mediterranean region — I re- 
 fer to the western basin — is in climate. There is 
 hardly any point along the French and Italian coast 
 that is not subject to great and sudden changes, 
 caused by the north wind, which has many names, or 
 in the extreme southern peninsula and islands by the 
 sirocco. There are few points that are not reached 
 by malaria, and in many resorts — and some of them 
 most sunny and agreeable to the invalid — the deadli- 
 est fevers always lie in wait. There is great contrast 
 between summer and winter, and exceeding variability 
 in the same month. This variability is the parent of 
 many diseases of the lungs, the bowels, and the hver. 
 It is demonstrated now by long - continued observa- 
 
 *T> « /« /« r*tf k
 
 38 OUK ITALY. 
 
 tions that dampness and cold are not so inimical to 
 health as variability. 
 
 The Southern Cahfornia climate is an anomaly. It 
 has been the subject of a good deal of wonder and a 
 good deal of boasting, but it is worthy of more scien- 
 tific study than it has yet received. Its distinguishing 
 feature I take to be its equabihty. The temperature 
 the year through is lower than I had supposed, and 
 the contrast is not great between the summer and the 
 winter months. The same clothing is appropriate, 
 speaking generally, for the whole year. In all sea- 
 sons, including the rainy days of the winter months, 
 sunshine is the rule. The variation of temperature 
 between day and night is considerable, but if the new- 
 comer exercises a httle care, he will not be unpleas- 
 antly affected by it. There are coast fogs, but these 
 are not chilling and raw. Why it is that with the 
 hydi'ometer showing a considerable humidity in the 
 air the general effect of the chmate is that of diyness, 
 scientists must explain. The constant exchange of 
 desert airs with the ocean air may account for the 
 anomaly, and the actual dryness of the soil, even on 
 the coast, is put forward as another explanation. 
 Those who come from heated rooms on the Atlantic 
 may find the winters cooler than they expect, and 
 those used to the heated terms of the Mississippi Val- 
 ley and the East will be surprised at the cool and sa- 
 lubrious summers. A land without high winds or 
 thunder-storms may fairly be said to have a unique 
 chmate. 
 
 I suppose it is the equability and not conditions 
 of dampness or dryness that renders this region so re- 
 markably exempt from epidemics and endemic dis-
 
 EAELY VICISSITUDES, PRODUCTIONS, ETC. 
 
 39 
 
 eases. The diseases of cliildren prevalent elsewhere 
 are unknown here ; they cut their teeth without risk, 
 and cholera infantum never ^dsits them. Diseases of 
 the bowels are practically unknown. There is no 
 malaria, whatever that may be, and consequently an 
 
 LIVE-OAK NEAR LOS ANGELES. 
 
 absence of those various fevers and other disorders 
 which are attributed to malarial conditions. Renal 
 diseases are also wanting; disorders of the liver and 
 kidneys, and Bright's disease, gout, and rheumatism, 
 are not native. The chmate in its effect is stimu- 
 lating, but at the same time soothing to the nerves, 
 so that if "nervous prostration" is wanted, it must
 
 40 OUR ITALY. 
 
 be broiiglit here, and cannot be relied on to continue 
 long. These facts are derived from medical practice 
 with the native Indian and Mexican population. Dr. 
 Remondino, to whom I have before referred, has made 
 the subject a study for eighteen years, and later I 
 shall offer some of the results of his observations 
 upon longevity. It is beyond my province to vent- 
 ure any suggestion upon the effect of the chmate 
 upon deep-seated diseases, especially of the respira- 
 tory organs, of invalids who come here for health. I 
 only know that we meet daily and constantly so 
 many persons in fair health who say that it is im- 
 possible for them to live elsewhere that the impres- 
 sion is produced that a considerable proportion of 
 the immigrant population was invalid. There are, 
 however, two suggestions that should be made. Care 
 is needed in acchmation to a chmate that differs 
 from any previous experience ; and the locahty that 
 ^dll suit any invahd can only be determined by per- 
 sonal experience. If the coast does not suit him, he 
 may be benefited in a protected valley, or he may be 
 improved on the foot-hiUs, or on an elevated mesa, or 
 on a high mountain elevation. 
 
 One thing may be regarded as settled. Whatever 
 the sensibility or the peculiarity of invahdism, the 
 equable climate is exceedingly favorable to the smooth 
 working of the great organic fmictions of respiration, 
 digestion, and circulation. 
 
 It is a pity to give this chapter a medical tone. 
 One need not be an invahd to come here and appre- 
 ciate the graciousness of the air; the color of the 
 landscape, which is wanting in our Northern clime ; 
 the constant procession of flowers the year through;
 
 EAELY VICISSITUDES, PKODUCTIONS, ETC. 41 
 
 the purple hills stretching into the sea ; the hundreds 
 of hamlets, with picturesque homes overgrown with 
 roses and geranium and heliotrope, in the midst of 
 orange orchards and of palms and magnolias, in sight 
 of the snow -peaks of the giant mountain ranges 
 which shut in this land of marvellous beauty.
 
 CHAPTEK IV. 
 THE WINTEE OF OUB CONTENT. 
 
 Califoknia is the land of the Pine and the Palm. 
 The tree of the Sierras, native, vigorous, gigantic, and 
 the tree of the Desert, exotic, supple, poetic, both 
 flourish within the nine degrees of latitude. These 
 two, the widely separated lovers of Heine's song, sym- 
 bohze the capacities of the State, and although the 
 sugar -pine is indigenous, and the date-palm, which 
 will never be more than an ornament in this hos- 
 pitable soil, was planted by the Franciscan Fathers, 
 who estabhshed a chain of missions from San Diego 
 to Monterey over a century ago, they should both be 
 the distinction of one commonwealth, which, in its 
 seven hundred miles of indented sea-coast, can boast 
 the climates of all countries and the products of all 
 zones. 
 
 If this State of mountains and valleys were divided 
 by an east and west hue, following the general course 
 of the Sierra Madre range, and cutting off the eight 
 lower counties, I suppose there would be conceit 
 enough in either section to maintain that it only is 
 the Paradise of the earth, but both are necessary to 
 make the unique and contradictory Cahfornia which 
 fascinates and bewilders the traveller. He is told 
 that the inhabitants of San Francisco go away from 
 the draught of the Grolden Grate in the summer to get
 
 THE WINTER OF OUR CONTENT. 43 
 
 warm, and yet the earliest luscious cherries and apri- 
 cots which he finds in the far south market of San 
 Diego come from the Northern Santa Clara Yalley. 
 ^ The truth would seem to be that in an hour's ride in 
 any part of the State one can change his chmate to- 
 tally at any time of the year, and this not merely by 
 changing his elevation, but by getting in or out of the 
 range of the sea or the desert currents of air which 
 follow the valleys. 
 
 To recommend to any one a wdnter climate is far 
 from the T\T.iter's thought. No two persons agree on 
 what is desirable for a mnter residence, and the inch- 
 nation of the same person varies wdth his state of 
 health. I can only attempt to give some idea of what 
 is called the "^dnter months in Southern Cahfornia, to 
 which my observations mainly apply. The individual 
 who comes here under the mistaken notion that ch- 
 mate ever does anything more than give nature a bet- 
 ter chance, may speedily or more tardily need the ser- 
 vice of an undertaker ; and the invahd whose powers 
 are responsive to kindly influences may live so long, 
 being unable to get away, that life will be a bui'den 
 to him. The person in ordinary health mil find very 
 little that is hostile to the orderly organic processes. 
 In order to appreciate the winter chmate of Southern 
 California one should stay here the year through, and 
 select the days that suit his idea of winter from any 
 of the months. From the fact that the greatest hu- 
 midity is in the summer and the least in the winter 
 months, he may wear an overcoat in July in a tem- 
 perature, according to the thermometer, which in Jan- 
 uary would render the overcoat unnecessary. It is 
 dampness that causes both cold and heat to be most
 
 44 OUE ITALY. 
 
 felt. The lowest temperatures, in Southern Cahfornia 
 generally, are caused only by the extreme dryness of 
 the air ; in the long nights of December and January 
 there is a more rapid and longer continued radiation 
 of heat. It must be a dry and clear night that will 
 send the temperature down to thirty -four degrees. 
 But the effect of the sun upon this air is instanta- 
 neous, and the cold morning is followed at once by a 
 warm forenoon; the difference between the average 
 heat of July and the average cold of January, meas- 
 ui'ed by the thermometer, is not great in the valleys, 
 foot-hills, and on the coast. Five points give this 
 result of average for January and July respective- 
 ly : Santa Barbara, 52°, 66° ; San Bernardino, 51°, 70° ; 
 Pomona, 52°, 68° ; Los Angeles, 52°, 67° ; San Diego, 
 53°, 66°. The day in the winter months is warmer 
 in the interior and the nights are cooler than on the 
 coast, as shown by the following figures for January : 
 7 A.M., Los Angeles, 46.5°; San Diego, 47.5°; 3 p.m., 
 Los Angeles, 65.2° ; San Diego, 60.9°. In the summer 
 the difference is greater. In June I saw the ther- 
 mometer reach 103° in Los Angeles when it was only 
 79° in San Diego. But I have seen the weather unen- 
 durable in New York with a temperature of 85°, while 
 this dry heat of 103° was not oppressive. The extraor- 
 dinary equanimity of the coast climate (certainly the 
 driest marine climate in my experience) will be evi- 
 dent from the average mean for each month, from 
 records of sixteen years, ending ni 1877, taken at San 
 Diego, giving each month in order, beginning with 
 January: 53.5°, 54.7°, 56.0°, 58.2°, 60.2°, 64.6°, 67.1°, 
 69.0°, 66.7°, 62.9°, 58.1°, 56.0°. In the year 1877 the 
 mean temperature at 3 p.m. at San Diego was as fol-
 
 THE WINTER OF OUE CONTENT. 45 
 
 lows, beginning with January: 60.9°, 57.7°, 62.4°, 
 63.3°, 66.3°, 68.5^ 69.6^ 69.6^ 69.5°, 69.6°, 64.4°, 60.5°. 
 For the four months of July, August, September, and 
 October there was hardly a shade of difference at 
 3 P.M. The striking fact in all the records I have 
 seen is that the difference of temperature in the day- 
 time between summer and winter is very small, the 
 great difference being fi'om midnight to just before 
 sunrise, and this latter difference is greater inland 
 than on the coast. There are, of course, frost and 
 ice in the mountains, but the frost that comes oc- 
 casionally in the low inland valleys is of very brief 
 duration in the morning hour, and rarely continues 
 long enough to have a serious effect upon vegetation. 
 
 In considering the matter of temperature, the rule 
 for vegetation and for invalids will not be the same. 
 A spot in which dehcate flowers in Southern Cali- 
 fornia bloom the year round may be too cool for 
 many invalids. It must not be forgotten that the 
 general temperature here is lower than that to which 
 most Eastern people are accustomed. They are used 
 to hving all winter in overheated houses, and to pro- 
 tracted heated terms rendered worse by humidity in 
 the summer. The dry, low temperature of tlie Cali- 
 fornia winter, notTvdthstanding its perpetual sunshine, 
 may seem, therefore, wanting to them in direct 
 warmth. It may take a year or two to acclimate 
 them to this more equable and more refreshing tem- 
 perature. 
 
 Neither on the coast nor in the foot-hills will the 
 invahd find the chmate of the Riviera or of Tangier 
 — not the tramontane wind of the former, nor the 
 absolutely genial but somewhat enervating climate of
 
 46 OUK ITALY. 
 
 the latter. But it must be borne in mind that in 
 this, our Mediterranean, the seeker for health or 
 pleasure can find almost any climate (except the very 
 cold or the very hot), down to the minutest subdivi- 
 sion. He may try the dry marine climate of the 
 coast, or the temperature of the fruit lands and gar- 
 dens from San Bernardino to Los Angeles, or he may 
 chmb to any altitude that suits him in the Sierra 
 Madre or the San Jacinto ranges. The difference 
 may be all -important to him between a valley and a 
 mesa which is not a hundred feet higher; nay, be- 
 tween a valley and the slope of a foot-hill, with a 
 shifting of not more than fifty feet elevation, the 
 change may be as marked for him as it is for the 
 most sensitive young fruit-tree. It is undeniable, not- 
 withstanding these encouraging " averages," that cold 
 snaps, though rare, do come occasionally, just as in 
 summer there will occur one or two or three con- 
 tinued days of intense heat. And in the summer in 
 some locahties — it happened in June, 1890, in the 
 Santiago hills in Orange County — the desert sirocco, 
 blowing over the Colorado furnace, makes life just 
 about unendurable for days at a time. Yet with this 
 dry heat sunstroke is never experienced, and the dis- 
 eases of the bowels usually accompanying hot weather 
 elsewhere are unknown. The experienced traveller 
 who encounters unpleasant weather, heat that he 
 does not expect, cold that he did not provide for, or 
 dust that deprives him of his last atom of good -hu- 
 mor, and is told that it is " exceptional," knows ex- 
 actly what that word means. He is familiar with 
 the "exceptional" the world over, and he feels a sort 
 of compassion for the inhabitants who have not yet
 
 THE WINTEK OF OUR CONTENT. 47 
 
 learned the adage, " Good wine needs no bush." 
 Even those who have bought more land than they 
 can pay for can afford to tell the truth. 
 
 The rainy season in Southern California, which 
 may open with a shower or two in October, but does 
 not set in till late in November, or till December, and 
 is over in April, is not at all a period of cloudy 
 weather or continuous rainfall. On the contrary, 
 bright warm days and brilliant sunshine are the rule. 
 The rain is most hkely to fall in the night. There 
 may be a day of rain, or several days that are over- 
 cast with distributed rain, but the showers are soon 
 over, and the sky clears. Yet winters vary greatly 
 in this respect, the rainfall being much greater in 
 some than in others. In 1890 there was rain beyond 
 the average, and even on the equable beach of Coro- 
 nada there were some weeks of weather that from 
 the California point of view were very unpleasant. 
 It was unpleasant by local comparison, but it was 
 not damp and chilly, hke a protracted period of fall- 
 ing weather on the Atlantic. The rain comes with a 
 southerly wind, caused by a disturbance far north, and 
 with the resumption of the prevaihng westerly ^vinds 
 it suddenly ceases, the air clears, and neither before 
 nor after it is the atmosphere "steamy" or enervating. 
 The average annual rainfall of the Pacific coast dimin- 
 ishes by regular gradation from point to point all the 
 way from Puget Sound to the Mexican boundary. At 
 Neah Bay it is 111 inches, and it steadily lessens down 
 to Santa Cruz, 25.24 ; Monterey, 11.42 ; Point Concep- 
 tion, 12.21; San Diego, 11.01. There is fog on the 
 coast in every month, but this diminishes, like the 
 rainfall, from north to south. I have encountered it
 
 48 OUR ITALY. 
 
 in both February and June. In the south it is apt to 
 be most persistent in April and May, when for three 
 or four days together there will be a fine mist, which 
 any one but a Scotchman would call rain. Usually, 
 however, the fog -bank will roll in during the night, 
 and disappear by ten o'clock in the morning. There 
 is no wet season properly so called, and consequently 
 few days in the winter months when it is not agree- 
 able to be out-of-doors, perhaps no day when one may 
 not walk or drive during some part of it. Yet as to pre- 
 cipitation or temperature it is impossible to strike any 
 general average for Southern California. In 1883-84 
 San Diego had 25.77 inches of rain, and Los Angeles 
 (fifteen miles inland) had 38.22. The annual average 
 at Los Angeles is 17.64; but in 1876-77 the total at 
 San Diego was only 3.75, and at Los Angeles only 
 5.28. Yet elevation and distance from the coast do 
 not always determine the rainfall. The yearly mean 
 rainfall at Juhan, in the San Jacinto range, at an ele- 
 vation of 4500 feet, is 37.74; observations at Riverside, 
 1050 feet above the sea, give an average of 9.37. 
 
 It is probably impossible to give an Eastern man 
 a just idea of the winter of Southern California. Ac- 
 customed to extremes, he may expect too much. He 
 wants a violent change. If he quits the snow, the 
 slush, the leaden skies, the alternate sleet and cold 
 rain of New England, he would hke the tropical heat, 
 the languor, the color of Martinique. He will not find 
 them here. He comes instead into a strictly temper- 
 ate region ; and even when he arrives, his eyes de- 
 ceive him. He sees the orange ripening in its dark 
 foliage, the long lines of the eucalyptus, the feathery 
 pepper -tree, the magnoha, the English walnut, the
 
 THE WINTER OF OUR CONTENT. 49 
 
 black live-oak, the fan-paliii, in all the \igov of June-, 
 everywhere beds of flowers of every hue and of every 
 country blazing in the bright sunlight — the hehotrope, 
 the geranium, the rare hot - house roses overrunning 
 the hedges of cj^Dress, and the scarlet passion -vine 
 chmbing to the roof -tree of the cottages ; in the vine- 
 yard or the orchard the horticulturist is following the 
 cultivator in his shirt-sleeves ; he hears running water, 
 the song of birds, the scent of flowers is in the air, and 
 he cannot understand why he needs mnter clothing, 
 why he is always seeking the sun, why he wants a fire 
 at night. It is a fraud, he says, aU this visible display 
 of summer, and of an almost tropical summer at that ; 
 it is really a cold country. It is incongruous that he 
 should be looking at a date-palm in his overcoat, and 
 he is puzzled that a thermometrical heat that should 
 enervate him elsewhere, stimulates him here. The 
 green, briUiant, vigorous vegetation, the perpetual sun- 
 shine, deceive him ; he is careless about the difference 
 of shade and sun, he gets into a draught, and takes 
 cold. Accustomed to extremes of temperature and ar- 
 tificial heat, I think for most people the first winter 
 here is a disai3pointment. I was told by a physician 
 who had eighteen years' experience of the chmate that 
 in his first winter he thought he had never seen a 
 people so insensitive to cold as the San Diegans, who 
 seemed not to require warmth. And all this time the 
 trees are gromng like asparagus, the most dehcate 
 flowers are in perpetual bloom, the annual crops are 
 most lusty. I fancy that the soil is always warm. 
 The temperature is truly moderate. The records for 
 a number of years show that the mid-day temperature 
 of clear days in winter is from 60° to 70° on the coast, 
 
 4:
 
 50 OUE ITALY. 
 
 from 65° to 80° in the interior, while that of rainy days 
 is about 60° by the sea and inland. Mr. Van Dyke 
 says that the lowest mid-day temperature recorded at 
 the United States signal station at San Diego during 
 eight years is 51°. This occurred but once. In those 
 eight years there were but twenty-one days when the 
 mid-day temperature was not above 55°, In all that 
 time there were but six days when the mercury fell 
 below 36° at any time in the night ; and but two when 
 it fell to 32°, the lowest point ever reached there. On 
 one of these two last-named days it went to 51° at 
 noon, and on the other to 56°. This was the great 
 "cold snap" of December, 1879. 
 
 It goes without saying that this sort of chmate 
 would suit any one in ordinary health, inviting and 
 stimulating to constant out-of-door exercise, and that 
 it would be equally favorable to that general break- 
 down of the system which has the name of nervous 
 prostration. The effect upon diseases of the respira- 
 tory organs can only be determined by individual ex- 
 perience. The government has lately been sending 
 soldiers who have consumption from various stations 
 in the United States to San Diego for treatment. 
 This experiment will furnish interesting data. With- 
 in a period covering a little over two years. Dr. Hun- 
 tington, the post surgeon, has had fifteen eases sent 
 to him. Three of these patients had tubercular con- 
 sumption; twelve had consumption induced by at- 
 tacks of pneumonia. One of the tubercular patients 
 died within a month after his arrival ; the second hved 
 eight months ; the third was discharged cured, left the 
 army, and contracted malaria elsewhere, of which he 
 died. The remaining twelve were discharged practi-
 
 THE WINTER OF OUR CONTENT. 51 
 
 cally cured of consumption, but two of them subse- 
 quently died. It is exceedingly common to meet per- 
 sons of all ages and both sexes in Southern California 
 who came invalided by disease of the lungs or throat, 
 who have every promise of fair health here, but who 
 dare not leave this chmate. The testimony is con- 
 vincing of the good effect of the clmiate upon all chil- 
 dren, upon women generally, and of its rejuvenating 
 effect uj)on men and women of advanced years.
 
 CHAPTER Y. 
 HEALTH AND LONGEVITY. 
 
 In regard to the effect of climate upon health and 
 longevity, Dr. Remondino quotes old Hufeland that 
 ^'uniformity in the state of the atmosphere, jDarticu- 
 larly in regard to heat, cold, gravity, and lightness, 
 contributes in a very considerable degree to the du- 
 ration of life. Countries, therefore, where great and 
 sudden varieties in the barometer and the thermome- 
 ter are usual cannot be favorable to longevity. Such 
 countries may be healthy, and many men may become 
 old in them, but they will not attain to a great age, for 
 all rapid variations are so many internal mutations, 
 and these occasion an astonishing consumption both 
 of the forces and the organs." Hufeland thought a 
 marine climate most favorable to longevity. He de- 
 scribes, and perhaps we may say prophesied, a region 
 he had never known, where the conditions and combi- 
 nations were most favorable to old age, which is epito- 
 mized by Dr. Remondino: "where the latitude gives 
 warmth and the sea or ocean tempering winds, where 
 the soil is warm and dry and the sun is also bright 
 and warm, where uninterrupted bright clear weather 
 and a moderate temperature are the rule, where ex- 
 tremes neither of heat nor cold are to be found, where 
 nothing may interfere with the exercise of the aged, 
 and where the actual results and cases of longevity
 
 ir,;ipaigt;i!g im i; aff ii 
 
 \mii^ff>amw»mm 
 
 
 1^^, r-^ 
 
 :^>s^ 

 
 HEALTH AND LONGEVITY. 55 
 
 will bear testimony as to the efficacy of all its climatic 
 conditions being favorable to a long and comfortable 
 existence." 
 
 In an unpublished paper Dr. Remondino comments 
 on the extraordinary endurance of animals and men in 
 the California climate, and cites many cases of uncom- 
 mon longevity in natives. In reading the accounts of 
 early days in California I am struck mth the endur- 
 ance of hardship, exposure, and wounds by the natives 
 and the adventurers, the rancheros, horsemen, herds- 
 men, the descendants of soldiers and the Indians, their 
 insensibility to fatigue, and their agility and strength. 
 This is ascribed to the climate; and what is true of 
 man is true of the native horse. His only rival in 
 strength, endurance, speed, and intelligence is the Ara- 
 bian. It was long supposed that this was racial, and 
 that but for the smallness of the size of the native 
 horse, crossing with it would improve the breed of the 
 Eastern and Kentucky racers. But there was reluc- 
 tance to cross the finely proportioned Eastern horse 
 with his diminutive Western brother. The importa- 
 tion and breeding of thoroughbreds on this coast has 
 led to the discovery that the desirable qualities of the 
 California horse were not racial but climatic. The 
 Eastern horse has been found to improve in size, com- 
 pactness of muscle, in strength of limb, in wind, with 
 a marked increase in power of endurance. The trav- 
 eller here notices the fine horses and their excellent 
 condition, and the power and endurance of those that 
 have considerable age. The records made on Eastern 
 race-courses by horses from California breeding farms 
 have already attracted attention. It is also remarked 
 that the Eastern horse is usually improved greatly by
 
 56 OUE ITALY. 
 
 a sojourn of a season or two on this coast, and tlie 
 plan of bringing Eastern race-horses here for the win- 
 ter is already adopted. 
 
 Man, it is asserted by our authority, is as much 
 benefited as the horse by a change to this climate. 
 The new-comer may have certain unpleasant sensa- 
 tions in coming here from different altitudes and con- 
 ditions, but he will soon be conscious of better being, 
 of increased power in all the functions of life, more 
 natural and recuperative sleep, and an accession of 
 vitahty and endurance. Dr. Remondino also testifies 
 that it occasionally happens in this rejuvenation that 
 families which have seemed to have reached their 
 limit at the East are increased after residence here. 
 
 The early inhabitants of Southern California, ac- 
 cording to the statement of Mr. H. H. Bancroft and 
 other reports, were found to be living in Spartan con- 
 ditions as to temperance and training, and in a highly 
 moral condition, in consequence of which they had un- 
 common physical endurance and contempt for luxury. 
 This training in abstinence and hardship, with temper- 
 ance in diet, combined with the climate to produce the 
 astonishing longevity to be found here. Contrary to 
 the customs of most other tribes of Indians, their aged 
 were the care of the community. Dr. W. A. Winder, 
 of San Diego, is quoted as saying that in a visit to El 
 Cajon Valley some thirty years ago he was taken to 
 a house in which the aged persons were cared for. 
 There were half a dozen who had reached an extreme 
 age. Some were unable to move, their bony frame be- 
 ing seemingly anchylosed. They were old, wrinkled, 
 and blear-eyed; their skin was hanging in leathery 
 folds about their withered limbs; some had hair as
 
 HEALTH AND LONGEVITY. 59 
 
 white as snow, and had seen some seven -score of 
 years; others, still able to crawl, but so aged as to be 
 unable to stand, went slowly about on their hands and 
 knees, their limbs being attenuated and withered. The 
 organs of special sense had in many nearly lost all ac- 
 tivity some generations back. Some had lost the use 
 of their limbs for more than a decade or a generation; 
 but the organs of life and the "great symi3athetic" 
 still kept u]3 their automatic functions, not recognizing 
 the fact, and surprisingly indifferent to it, that the rest 
 of the body had ceased to be of any use a generation 
 or more in the past. And it is remarked that "these 
 thoracic and abdominal organs and their physiological 
 action being kept alive and active, as it were, against 
 time, and the silent and unconscious functional activ- 
 ity of the great sympathetic and its ganglia, show a 
 tenacity of the animal tissues to hold on to life that is 
 phenomenal." 
 
 I have no space to enter upon the nature of the 
 testimony upon which the age of certain Indians here- 
 after referred to is based. It is such as to satisfy Dr. 
 Eemondino, Dr. Edward Palmer, long connected with 
 the Agricultural Department of the Smithsonian In- 
 stitution, and Father A. D. Ubach, who has religious 
 charge of the Indians in this region. These Indians 
 were not migratory; they hved within certain limits, 
 and were known to each other. The missions estab- 
 lished by the Franciscan friars were built with the as- 
 sistance of the Indians. The friars have handed down 
 by word of mouth many details in regard to their early 
 missions; others are found in the mission records, 
 such as carefully kept records of family events — births, 
 marriages, and deaths. And there is the testimony of
 
 60 OUE ITAI.Y. 
 
 the Indians regarding each other. Father Uhach has 
 known a number who were employed at the building 
 of the mission of San Diego (1769-71), a century be- 
 fore he took charge of this mission. These men had 
 been engaged in carrying timber from the mountains 
 or in making brick, and many of them were living 
 vdthm the last twenty years. There are persons still 
 living at the Indian village of Capitan Grande whose 
 ages he estimates at over one hundred and thirty 
 years. Since the advent of civihzation the abstemious 
 habits and Spartan virtues of these Indians have been 
 impaired, and their care for the aged has relaxed. 
 
 Dr. Palmer has a photograph (which I have seen) 
 of a squaw whom he estimates to be 126 years old. 
 When he visited her he saw her put six watermelons 
 in a blanket, tie it up, and carry it on her back for two 
 miles. He is famihar with Indian customs and his- 
 tory, and a careful cross-examination convinced liim 
 that her information of old customs was not obtained 
 by tradition. She was conversant with tribal habits 
 she had seen practised, such as the cremation of the 
 dead, which the mission fathers had compelled the 
 Indians to relinquish. She had seen the Indians pun- 
 ished by the fathers with floggings for persisting in 
 the practice of cremation. 
 
 At the mission of San Tomas, in Lower California, 
 is still living an Indian (a photograph of whom Dr. 
 Kemondino shows), bent and wrinkled, whose age is 
 computed at 110 years. Although blind and naked, he 
 is still active, and daily goes down the beach and along 
 the beds of the creeks in search of drift-wood, making 
 it his daily task to gather and carry to camp a fagot of 
 wood.
 
 HEALTH AND LONGEVITY. 
 
 61 
 
 Anotlier instance I give in Dr. Remondino's words : 
 " Philip Crosstliwaite, who has hved here since 1843, 
 has an old man on his ranch who mounts his horse 
 and rides about daily, who was a grown man breaking 
 horses for the mission fathers when Don Antonio Ser- 
 
 OLD ADOBE HOUSE, POMONA. 
 
 rano was an infant. Don Antonio I know quite well, 
 having attended him through a serious illness some 
 sixteen years ago. Although now at the advanced age 
 of ninety-three, he is as erect as a pine, and he rides
 
 62 OUE ITALY. 
 
 his horse with his usual vigor and grace. He is thin 
 and spare and very tall, and those who knew him fifty 
 years or more remember him as the most skilful 
 horseman in the neighborhood of San Diego. And 
 yet, as fabulous as it may seem, the man who danced 
 this Don Antonio on his knee when he was an infant 
 is not only still ahve, but is active enough to mount 
 his horse and canter about the country. Some years 
 ago I attended an elderly gentleman, since dead, who 
 knew this man as a full-grown man when he and Don 
 Serrano were play-children together. From a conver- 
 sation with Father Ubach I learned that the man's 
 age is perfectly authenticated to be beyond one hun- 
 dred and eighteen years." 
 
 In the many instances given of extreme old age in 
 this region the habits of these Indians have been those 
 of strict temperance and abstemiousness, and their 
 long life in an equable climate is due to extreme sim- 
 phcity of diet. In many cases of extreme age the diet 
 has consisted simply of acorns, flour, and water. It is 
 asserted that the climate itseK induces temperance in 
 drink and abstemiousness in diet. In his estimate of 
 the climate as a factor of longevity, Dr. Remondino 
 says that it is only necessary to look at the causes of 
 death, and the ages most subject to attack, to under- 
 stand that the less of these causes that are present the 
 greater are the chances of man to reach great age. 
 "Add to these reflections that you run no gantlet 
 of diseases to undermine or deteriorate the organism ; 
 that in this climate cliildhood finds an escape from 
 those diseases which are the terror of mothers, and 
 against which physicians are helpless, as we have here 
 none of those affections of the first three years of life
 
 HEALTH AND LONGEVITY. 
 
 63 
 
 FAN-PALM, FERNANDO ST. LOS ANGELES. 
 
 SO prevalent during the summer months in the East 
 and the rest of the United States. Then, again, the 
 chance of gastric or intestinal disease is almost incred- 
 ibly small. This immunity extends through every age 
 of life. Hepatic and kindred diseases are imknown; 
 of lung affections there is no land that can boast of 
 Hke exemption. Be it the equability of the tempera-
 
 64 OUR ITALY. 
 
 ture or the aseptic condition of the atmosphere, the 
 tree sweep of winds or the absence of disease germs, 
 or what else it may be ascribed to, one thing is cer- 
 tain, that there is no pneumonia, bronchitis, or pleu- 
 risy lying in wait for either the infant or the aged." 
 
 The importance of this subject must excuse the 
 space I have given to it. It is evident from this tes- 
 timony that here are climatic conditions novel and 
 worthy of the most patient scientific mvestigation. 
 Their effect upon hereditary tendencies and upon per- 
 sons coming here with hereditary diseases will be 
 studied. Three years ago there was in some locahties 
 a visitation of small-pox imported from Mexico. At 
 that time there were cases of pneumonia. Whether 
 these were incident to carelessness in vaccination, or 
 were caused by local unsanitary conditions, I do not 
 know. It is not to be expected that unsanitary con- 
 ditions will not produce disease here as elsewhere. It 
 cannot be too strongly insisted that this is a climate 
 that the new-comer must get used to, and that he 
 cannot safely neglect the ordinary precautions. The 
 difference between shade and sun is strikingly marked, 
 and he must not be deceived into imprudence by the 
 prevaihng sunshine or the general equabihty.
 
 CHAPTER YI. 
 IS KESIDENCE HEKE AGKEEABLE ? 
 
 Aeter all these averages and statistics, and not 
 considering now the chances of the speculator, the 
 farmer, the fruit - raiser, or the invalid, is Southern 
 California a particularly agreeable winter residence? 
 The question deserves a candid answer, for it is of 
 the last importance to the people of the United 
 States to know the truth — to know whether they 
 have accessible by rail a region free from winter rigor 
 and vicissitudes, and yet with few of the disadvan- 
 tages of most winter resorts. One would have more 
 IDleasure in answering the question if he were not ir- 
 ritated by the perpetual note of brag and exaggera- 
 tion in evQiy locahty that each is the paradise of the 
 earth, and absolutely free from any physical discom- 
 fort. I hope that this note of exaggeration is not 
 the effect of the chmate, for if it is, the region will 
 never be socially agreeable. 
 
 There are no sudden changes of season here. 
 Spring comes gradually day by day, a perceptible 
 hourly waking to hf e and color ; and this glides into 
 a summer which never ceases, but only becomes tu'ed 
 and fades into the repose of a short autumn, when 
 the sere and brown and red and yellow hills and the 
 purple mountains are waiting for the rain clouds. 
 This is according to the process of nature ; but 
 
 5
 
 66 OUR ITALY. 
 
 wherever irrigation brings moisture to the fertile soil, 
 the green and bloom are perpetual the year round, 
 only the green is powdered with dust, and the culti- 
 vated flowers have their periods of exhaustion. 
 
 I should think it well worth while to watch the 
 procession of nature here from late November or 
 December to April. It is a land of delicate and brill- 
 iant wild flowers, of blooming shrubs, strange in form 
 and wonderful in color. Before the annual rains the 
 land hes in a sort of swoon in a golden haze; the 
 slopes and plains are bare, the hills yellow with ripe 
 wild -oats or ashy gray with sage, the sea-breeze is 
 weak, the air grows drier, the sun hot, the shade 
 cool. Then one day hght clouds stream up from the 
 south-west, and there is a gentle rain. When the sun 
 comes out again its rays are milder, the land is re- 
 freshed and brightened, and almost immediately a 
 greenish tinge appears on plain and hill- side. At 
 intervals the rain continues, daily the landscape is 
 greener in infinite variety of shades, which seem to 
 sweep over the hills in waves of color. Upon this 
 carpet of green by February nature begins to weave 
 an embroidery of wild flowers, white, lavender,, 
 golden, pink, indigo, scarlet, changing day by day 
 and every day more brilliant, and spreading from 
 patches into great fields until dale and hill and table- 
 land are overspread with a refinement and glory of 
 color that would be the despair of the carpet-weavers 
 of Daghestan. 
 
 This, with the scent of orange groves and tea- 
 roses, with cool nights, snow in sight on the high 
 mountains, an occasional day of rain, days of bright 
 sunshine, when an overcoat is needed in driving^,
 
 IS RESIDENCE HERE AGREEABLE? 67 
 
 must suffice the sojourner for winter. He will be 
 humiliated that he is more sensitive to cold than the 
 heliotrope or the violet, but he must bear it. If he 
 is looking for malaria, he must go to some other 
 winter resort. If he wants a "norther" continuing 
 for days, he must move on. If he is accustomed to 
 various insect pests, he will miss them here. If there 
 comes a day warmer than usual, it will not be damp 
 or soggy. So far as nature is concerned there is very 
 httle to grumble at, and one resource of the traveller 
 is therefore taken away. 
 
 But is it interesting? What is there to do? It 
 must be confessed that there is a sort of monotony 
 in the scenery as there is in the climate. There is, 
 to be sure, great variety in a way between coast and 
 mountain, as, for instance, between Santa Barbara 
 and Pasadena, and if the tourist will make a business 
 of exploring the valleys and uplands and canons httle 
 visited, he will not complain of monotony; but the 
 artist and the photographer find the same elements 
 repeated in little varying combinations. There is un- 
 deniable repetition in the succession of flower-gar- 
 dens, fruit orchards, alleys of palms and peppers, 
 vineyards, and the cultivation about the villas is re- 
 peated in all directions. The Americans have not 
 the art of making houses or a land picturesque. The 
 traveller is enthusiastic about the exquisite drives 
 through these groves of fruit, with the ashy or the 
 snow -covered hills for background and contrast, and 
 he exclaims at the pretty cottages, vine and rose clad, 
 in their semi-tropical setting, but if by chance he 
 comes upon an old adobe or a Mexican ranch house 
 in the country, he has emotions of a different sort.
 
 68 
 
 OUE ITALY. 
 
 There is little left of the old Spanish occupation, but 
 the remains of it make the romance of the country, 
 and appeal to our sense of fitness and beauty. It is 
 to be hoped that all such historical associations will 
 be preserved, for they give to the traveller that which 
 
 
 SCARLET PASSION-VINE. 
 
 our country generally lacks, and which is so largely 
 the attraction of Italy and Spain. Instead of adapt- 
 ing and modifying the houses and homes that the 
 climate suggests, the new American comers have 
 brought here from the East the smartness and pretti-
 
 IS EESIDENCE HERE AGREEABLE? 69 
 
 ness of our modern nondescript architectiu'e. The 
 low house, with recesses and galleries, built round an 
 inner court, or patio, which, however smaU, would fill 
 the whole interior with sunshine and the scent of 
 flowers, is the sort of dwelhng that would suit the 
 climate and the habit of life here. But the present 
 occupiers have taken no hints from the natives. In 
 village and country they have done all they can, in 
 spite of the maguey and the cactus and the palm 
 and the umbrella-tree and the live-oak and the riot- 
 ous flowers and the thousand novel forms of vege- 
 tation, to give everything a prosaic look. But why 
 should the tourist find fault with this? The Ameri- 
 can likes it, and he would not like the picturesque- 
 ness of the Spanish or the Latin races. 
 
 So far as chmate and natural beauty go to make 
 one contented in a winter resort. Southern California 
 has unsurpassed attractions, and both seem to me to 
 fit very well the American temperament ; but the asso- 
 ciations of art and history are wanting, and the tourist 
 knows how largely his enjoyment of a vacation in 
 Southern Italy or Sicily or Northern Africa depends 
 upon these — upon these and upon the aspects of hu- 
 man nature foreign to liis experience. 
 
 It goes without saying that this is not Europe, 
 either in its human interest or in a certain refinement 
 of landscape that comes only by long cultivation and 
 the occupancy of ages. One advantage of foreign 
 travel to the restless American is that he carries with 
 him no responsibility for the government or the prog- 
 ress of the ■ country he is in, and that he leaves busi- 
 ness behind him ; whereas in this new country, which 
 is his own, the development of which is so interesting.
 
 70 OUE ITALY. 
 
 and in which, the opportunities of fortune seem so in- 
 viting, he is constantly tempted " to take a hand in." 
 If, however, he is superior to this fever, and is willing 
 simply to rest, to drift along with the equable days, I 
 know of no other place where he can be more truly 
 contented. Year by year the country becomes more 
 agreeable for the traveller, in the first place, through 
 the improvement in the hotels, and in the second, by 
 better roads. In the large villages and cities there are 
 miles of excellent drives, well sprinkled, through de- 
 hghtful avenues, in a park-like country, where the eye 
 is enchanted with color and luxurious vegetation, and 
 captivated by the remarkable beauty of the hills, the 
 wildness and picturesqueness of which enhance the 
 charming cultivation of the orchards and gardens. 
 And no country is more agreeable for riding and driv- 
 ing, for even at mid-day, in the direct sun rays, there 
 is almost everywhere a refreshing breeze, and one rides 
 or drives or walks with little sense of fatigue. The 
 horses are uniformly excellent, either in the carriage or 
 under the saddle. I am sure they are remarkable 
 in speed, endurance, and ease of motion. If the vis- 
 iting season had no other attraction, the horses would 
 make it distinguished. 
 
 A great many people like to spend months in a 
 comfortable hotel, lounging on the piazzas, playing 
 lawn-tennis, taking a morning ride or afternoon drive, 
 making an occasional picnic excursion up some mount- 
 ain canon, getting up charades, playing at private the- 
 atricals, dancing, flirting, floating along with more or 
 less sentiment and only the weariness that comes 
 when there are no duties. There are plenty of places 
 where all these things can be done, and with no sort
 
 IS RESIDENCE HERE AGREEABLE? 71 
 
 of anxiety about the weather from week to week, and 
 with the added advantage that the women and chil- 
 dren can take care of themselves. But for those who 
 find such a hfe monotonous there are other resources. 
 There is very good fishing in the clear streams in the 
 foot-hills, hunting in the mountains for large game 
 still worthy of the steadiest nerves, and good bird- 
 shooting everywhere. There are mountains to climb, 
 canons to explore, lovely valleys in the recesses of the 
 hills to be discovered — in short, one disposed to activ- 
 ity and not afraid of roughing it could occupy himself 
 most agreeably and healthfully in the wild parts of 
 San Bernardino and San Diego counties ; he may even 
 still start a grizzly in the Sierra Madre range in Los 
 Angeles County. Hunting and exploring in the mount- 
 ains, riding over the mesas, which are green from the 
 winter rains and gay with a thousand dehcate grasses 
 and flowering plants, is manly occupation to suit the 
 most robust and adventurous. Those who saunter in 
 the trim gardens, or fly from one hotel parlor to the 
 other, do not see the best of Southern Cahfornia in 
 the winter.
 
 CHAPTER YII. 
 THE WINTEK ON THE COAST. 
 
 But the distinction of this coast, and that which 
 will forever make it attractive at the season when the 
 North Atlantic is forbidding, is that the ocean-side is 
 as equable, as dehghtful, in winter as in summer. Its 
 sea -side places are truly all -the -year -round resorts. 
 In subsequent chapters I shall speak in detail of dif- 
 ferent places as to chmate and development and pe- 
 culiarities of production. I will now only give a gen- 
 eral idea of Southern Cahfornia as a wintering place. 
 Even as far north as Monterey, in the central part of 
 the State, the famous Hotel del Monte, with its mag- 
 nificent park of pines and hve-oaks, and exquisite 
 flower-gardens underneath the trees, is remarkable for 
 its steadiness of temperature. I could see httle differ- 
 ence between the temperature of June and of Febru- 
 ary. The difference is of course greatest at night. 
 The maximum the year through ranges from about 
 65° to about 80°, and the minimum from about 35° to 
 about 58°, though there are days when the thermom- 
 eter goes above 90°, and nights when it falls below 
 30°. 
 
 To those who prefer the immediate ocean air to 
 that air as modified by such valleys as the San Gra- 
 briel and the Santa Ana, the coast offers a variety of 
 choice in different combinations of sea and mountain
 
 
 KO-SK-KUSH, SA^'TA BARBARA.
 
 THE TVTINTER ON THE COAST. 75 
 
 climate all along the southern sunny exposure from 
 Santa Barbarba to San Diego. In Santa Barbara 
 County the Santa Inez range of mountains runs west- 
 ward to meet the Pacific at Point ConceiDtion. South 
 of this noble range are a number of little valleys oi)en- 
 ing to the sea, and in one of these, with a harbor and 
 sloping upland and canon of its own, lies Santa Bar- 
 bara, looking southward towards the sunny islands of 
 Santa Rosa and Santa Cruz. Above it is the Mission 
 Canon, at the entrance of which is the best-preserved 
 of the old Franciscan missions. There is a superb 
 drive eastward along the long and curving sea-beach 
 of foiu' miles to the canon of Monticito, which is 
 rather a series of nooks and terraces, of lovely places 
 and gardens, of plantations of oranges and figs, rising 
 up to the base of the gray mountains. The long line 
 of the Santa Inez suggests the promontory of Sor- 
 rento, and a \dew from the opposite rocky point, 
 which encloses the harbor on the west, by the help of 
 cypresses which look like stone-pines, recalls many an 
 Itahan coast scene, and in situation the Bay of Naples. 
 The whole aspect is foreign, enchanting, and the semi- 
 tropical fi'uits and vines and flowers, with a golden 
 atmosphere poured over all, irresistibly take the mind 
 to scenes of Itahan romance. There is still a little 
 Spanish flavor left in the to\\ai, in a few old houses, 
 in names and families historic, and in the life without 
 hurry or apprehension. There is a delightful com- 
 mingling here of sea and mountain air, and in a hun- 
 dred fertile nooks in the hills one in the most deli- 
 cate health may be sheltered from every harsh wind. 
 I think no one ever leaves Santa Barbara without a 
 desire to return to it.
 
 76 OUK ITALY. 
 
 Farther down the coast, only eighteen miles from 
 Los Angeles, and a sort of Coney Island resort of that 
 thriving city, is Santa Monica. Its hotel stands on a 
 high bluff in a lovely bend of the coast. It is popular 
 in summer as well as winter, as the number of cot- 
 tages attest, and it was chosen by the directors of the 
 National Soldiers' Home as the site of the Home on 
 the Pacific coast. There the veterans, in a commo- 
 dious building, dream away their lives most content- 
 edly, and can fancy that they hear the distant thunder 
 of guns in the pounding of the surf. 
 
 At about the same distance from Los Angeles, 
 southward, above Point Vincent, is Redondo Beach, a 
 new resort, which, from its natural beauty and exten- 
 sive improvements, promises to be a delightful place 
 of sojourn at any time of the year. The mountain- 
 ous, embracing arms of the bay are exquisite in con- 
 tour and color, and the beach is very fine. The hotel 
 is perfectly comfortable — indeed, imcommonly attrac- 
 tive — and the extensive planting of trees, palms, and 
 shrubs, and the cultivation of flowers, will change the 
 place in a year or two into a scene of green and floral 
 loveliness ; in this region two years, such is the rapid 
 growth, suffices to transform a desert into a park or 
 garden. On the hills, at a little distance from the 
 beach and pier, are the buildings of the Chautauqua, 
 which holds a local summer session here. The Chau- 
 tauqua people, the country over, seem to have, in se- 
 lecting sightly and agreeable sites for their temples 
 of education and amusement, as good judgment as 
 the old monks had in planting their monasteries and 
 missions. 
 
 If one desires a thoroughly insular chmate, he may
 
 THE WINTER ON THE COAST. 79 
 
 cross to the picturesque island of Santa Catalina. All 
 along the coast flowers bloom in the winter months, 
 and the ornamental semi-tropical plants thrive; and 
 there are many striking headlands and pretty bays 
 and gentle seaward slopes which are already occupied 
 by villages, and attract visitors who would practise 
 economy. The hills frequently come close to the 
 shore, forming those valleys in which the Californians 
 of the pastoral period placed their ranch houses. At 
 San Juan Capristrano the fathers had one of their 
 most flourishing missions, the ruins of which are the 
 most pictm^esque the traveller will find. It is alto- 
 gether a genial, attractive coast, and if the tourist 
 does not prefer an inland situation, like the Hotel 
 Raymond (which scarcely has a rival anywhere in its 
 lovely surroundings), he will keep on down the coast 
 to San Diego. 
 
 The transition from the well -planted counties of 
 Los Angeles and Orange is not altogether agreeable 
 to the eye. One misses the trees. The general aspect 
 of the coast about San Diego is bare in comparison. 
 This simply means that the southern county is behind 
 the others in development. Nestled among the hills 
 there are hve-oaks and sycamores; and of course at 
 National City and below, in El Cajon and the valley 
 of the Sweetwater, there are extensive plantations of 
 oranges, lemons, ohves, and vines, but the San Diego 
 region generally hes in the sun shadeless. I have a 
 personal theory that much vegetation is inconsistent 
 with the best atmosphere for the human being. The 
 air is nowhere else so agreeable to me as it is in a 
 barren New Mexican or Arizona desert at the proper 
 elevation. I do not know whether the San Diego ch-
 
 80 OUK ITALY. 
 
 mate would be injured if the Mils were covered with 
 forest and the valleys were all in the highest and 
 most luxmiant vegetation. The theory is that the 
 interaction of the desert and ocean winds will al- 
 ways keep it as it is, whatever man may do. I can 
 only say that, as it is, I doubt if it has its equal the 
 year round for agreeableness and healthfulness in our 
 Union; and it is the testimony of those whose ex- 
 perience of the best Mediterranean climate is more 
 extended and much longer continued than mine, that 
 it is superior to any on that enclosed sea. About this 
 great harbor, whose outer beach has an extent of 
 twenty -five miles, whose inland circuit of mountains 
 must be over fifty miles, there are great varieties of 
 temperatm'e, of shelter and exposure, minute subdi- 
 visions of climate, whose personal fitness can only be 
 attested by experience. There is a great difference, 
 for instance, between the quality of the chmate at the 
 elevation of the Florence Hotel, San Diego, and the 
 University Heights on the mesa above the town, and 
 that on the long Coronado Beach which protects the 
 inner harbor from the ocean surf. The latter, practi- 
 cally surrounded by water, has a true marine climate, 
 but a peculiar and dry marine chmate, as tonic in its 
 effect as that of Capri, and, I believe, mth fewer harsh 
 days in the winter season. I wish to speak with en- 
 tire frankness about this situation, for I am sure that 
 what so much ]3leases me will suit a great number 
 of people, who will thank me for not being reserved. 
 Doubtless it will not suit hundreds of jDeople as well 
 as some other locahties in Southern California, but I 
 found no other place where I had the feehng of abso- 
 lute content and willingness to stay on indefinitely.
 
 THE WINTER ON THE COAST. 81 
 
 There is a geniality about it for which the thermom- 
 eter does not account, a charm w^hich it is difficult to 
 explain. Much of the agreeability is due to artificial 
 conditions, but the climate man has not made nor 
 marred. 
 
 The Coronado Beach is about twelve miles long. 
 A narrow sand promontory, running northward fi'om 
 the main-land, rises to the Heights, then broadens into 
 a table-land, which seems to be an island, and meas- 
 ures about a mile and a half each way; this is called 
 South Beach, and is connected by another spit of sand 
 with a like area called North Beach, which forms, with 
 Point Loma, the entrance to the harbor. The North 
 Beach, covered partly with chaparral and broad fields 
 of barley, is ahve with quail, and is a favonte cours- 
 ing-ground for rabbits. The soil, which appears un- 
 inviting, is with water uncommonly fertile, being a 
 mixture of loam, disintegrated granite, and decomposed 
 shells, and especially adapted to flowers, rare tropical 
 trees, fruits, and flowering shrubs of all countries. 
 
 The development is on the South Beach, which 
 was in January, 1887, nothing but a waste of sand and 
 chaparral. I doubt if the world can show a like trans- 
 formation in so short a time. I saw it in February of 
 that year, when all the beauty, except that of ocean, 
 sky, and atmosphere, was still to be imagined. It is 
 now as if the wand of the magician had touched it. In 
 the first place, abundance of water was brought over 
 by a submarine conduit, and later from the extraordi- 
 nary Coronado Springs (excellent soft water for drink- 
 ing and bathing, and with a recognized medicinal val- 
 ue), and with these streams the beach began to bloom 
 hke a tropical garden. Tens of thousands of trees 
 
 6
 
 82 OUE ITALY. 
 
 have attained a remarkable growth in three years. 
 The nursery is one of the most interesting botanical 
 and flower gardens in the country; palms and hedges 
 of Monterey cypress and marguerites hne the avenues. 
 There are parks and gardens of rarest flowers and 
 shrubs, whose brilhant color produces the same excite- 
 ment in the mind as strains of martial music. A rail- 
 way traverses the beach for a mile from the ferry to 
 the hotel. There are hundreds of cottages with their 
 gardens scattered over the surface ; there is a race- 
 track, a museum, an ostrich farm, a labyrinth, good 
 roads for driving, and a dozen other attractions for 
 the idle or the inquisitive. 
 
 The hotel stands upon the south front of the beach 
 and near the sea, above which it is sufficiently elevated 
 to give a flne prospect. The sound of the beating surf 
 is perpetual there. At low tide there is a splendid 
 driving beach miles in extent, and though the slope 
 is abrupt, the opportunity for bathing is good, with a 
 httle care in regard to the undertow. But there is a 
 safe natatorium on the harbor side close to the hotel. 
 The stranger, when he first comes upon this novel 
 hotel and this marvellous scene of natural and created 
 beauty, is apt to exhaust his superlatives. I hesitate 
 to attempt to describe this hotel — this airy and pictur- 
 esque and half -bizarre wooden creation of the archi- 
 tect. Taking it and its situation together, I know 
 nothing else in the world with which to compare it, 
 and I have never seen any other which so surprised at 
 first, that so improved on a two weeks' acquaintance, 
 and that has left in the mind an impression so entirely 
 agreeable. It covers about four and a half acres of 
 ground, including an inner court of about an acre, the
 
 HOTEL DEL CORONADO.
 
 THE ^^^NTER ON THE COAST. 85 
 
 rich made soil of which is raised to the level of the 
 main floor. The house surrounds this, in the Spanish 
 mode of building, with a series of galleries, so that 
 most of the suites of rooms have a double outlook — 
 one upon this lovely garden, the other upon the ocean 
 or the harbor. The effect of this interior court or 
 patio is to give gayety and an air of friendliness to 
 the place, brilhant as it is with flowers and climbing 
 vines ; and when the royal and date palms that are 
 vigorously thriving in it attain their growth it will be 
 magnificent. Big hotels and caravansaries are usually 
 tiresome, unfriendly places; and if I should lay too 
 much stress upon the vast dining-room (which has a 
 floor area of ten thousand feet without post or pillar), 
 or the beautiful breakfast -room, or the cu'cular ball- 
 room (which has an area of eleven thousand feet, with 
 its timber roof open to the lofty observatory), or the 
 music -room, billiard - rooms for ladies, the reading- 
 rooms and parlors, the pretty gallery overlooking the 
 spacious office rotunda, and then say that the whole 
 is illuminated with electric hghts, and capable of be- 
 ing heated to any temperature desired — I might con- 
 vey a false impression as to the actual comfort and 
 home-likeness of this charming place. On the sea side 
 the broad galleries of each story are shut in by glass, 
 which can be opened to admit or shut to exclude the 
 fresh ocean breeze. Whatever the temperature out- 
 side, those great galleries are always agreeable for 
 lounging or promenading. For me, I never tire of 
 the sea and its changing color and movement. If this 
 great house were filled with guests, so spacious are its 
 lounging places I should think it would never appear 
 to be crowded; and if it were nearly empty, so ad-
 
 86 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 mirably are the rooms contrived for family life it will 
 not seem lonesome. I shall add that the management 
 is of the sort that makes the guest feel at home and at 
 ease. Flowers, brought in from the gardens and nurs- 
 eries, are everywhere in profusion — on the dining- 
 tables, in the rooms, all about the house. So abun- 
 
 OSTRICH YARD, CORONADO BEACH. 
 
 dantly are they produced that no amount of culling 
 seems to make an impression upon their mass. 
 
 But any description would fail to give the secret of 
 the charm of existence here. Restlessness disappears, 
 for one thing, but there is no languor or depression. I 
 cannot tell why, when the thermometer is at 60° or 
 63°, the air seems genial and has no sense of chiUiness,
 
 THE WINTER ON THE COAST. 87 
 
 or why it is not oppressive at 80° or 85°. I am sure 
 the place will not suit those whose highest idea of 
 Tvinter enjoyment is tobogganing and an ice palace, 
 nor those who revel in the steam and languor of a 
 tropical island ; but for a person whose desires are 
 moderate, whose tastes are temperate, who is mlling 
 for once to be good-humored and content in equable 
 conditions, I should commend Coronado Beach and 
 the Hotel del Coronado, if I had not long ago learned 
 that it is unsafe to commend to any human being a 
 climate or a doctor. 
 
 But you can take your choice. It lies there, our 
 Mediterranean region, on a blue ocean, protected by 
 barriers of granite from the Northern influences, an 
 infinite variety of plain, canon, hills, valleys, sea-coast ; 
 our New Italy without malaria, and with every sort of 
 fruit which we desire (except the tropical), which will 
 be grown in perfection when our knowledge equals our 
 ambition ; and if you cannot find a winter home there 
 or pass some contented weeks in the months of North- 
 ern inclemency, you are weighing social advantages 
 against those of the least objectionable climate within 
 the Union. It is not yet proved that this equability 
 and the daily out-door hfe possible there mil change 
 character, but they are hkely to improve the disposi- 
 tion and soften the asperities of common life. At any 
 rate, there is a land where from November to April 
 one has not to make a continual fight with the ele- 
 ments to keep ahve. 
 
 It has been said that this land of the sun and of 
 i:he equable climate will have the effect that other 
 lands of a southern aspect have upon temperament 
 and habits. It is feared that Northern -bred people.
 
 88 OUE ITALY. 
 
 wlio are guided by the necessity of making hay while 
 the sun shines, will not make hay at all in a land 
 where the sun always shines. It is thought that un- 
 less people are spurred on incessantly by the exigen- 
 cies of the changing seasons they will lose energy, and 
 fall into an idle floating along with gracious nature. 
 Will not one sink into a comfortable and easy pro- 
 crastination if he has a whole year in which to per- 
 form the labor of three months ? Will Southern Cali- 
 fornia be an exception to those lands of equable climate 
 and extraordinary fertihty where every effort is post- 
 poned till " to-morrow f 
 
 I wish there might be something sohd in this ex- 
 pectation ; that this may be a region where the rest- 
 less American will lose something of his hurry and 
 petty, feverish ambition. Partially it may be so. He 
 will take, he is ah'eady taking, something of the tone 
 of the chmate and of the old Spanish occupation. But 
 the race instinct of thrift and of " getting on" will not 
 wear out in many generations. Besides, the condition 
 of living at all in Southern California in comfort, and 
 with the social life indispensable to our people, de- 
 mands labor, not exhausting and killing, but still in- 
 cessant — demands industry. A land that will not 
 yield satisfactorily without uTigation, and whose best 
 paying produce requires intelhgent as well as careful 
 husbandry, will never be an idle land. Egypt, with 
 all its dolce far niente, was never an idle land for the 
 laborer. 
 
 It may be expected, however, that no more energy 
 will be developed or encouraged than is needed for the 
 daily tasks, and these tasks being hghter than else- 
 where, and capable of being postponed, that there will
 
 THE WINTER ON THE COAST. 89 
 
 be less stress and strain in the daily life. Although 
 the climate of Southern California is not enervating, 
 in fact is stimulating to the new-comer, it is doubtless 
 true that the monotony of good weather, of the sight 
 of perpetual bloom and color in orchards and gardens, 
 will take away nervousness and produce a certain pla- 
 cidity, which might be taken for laziness by a North- 
 ern observer. It may be that engagements will not be 
 kept with desired punctuality, under the impression 
 that the enjoyment of life does not depend upon exact 
 response to the second-hand of a watch ; and it is not 
 unpleasant to think that there is a corner of the Union 
 where there will be a little more leism^e, a little more 
 of serene waiting on Providence, an abatement of the 
 restless rush and haste of our usual life. The waves 
 of population have been rolling westward for a long 
 time, and now, breaking over the mountains, they flow 
 over Pacific slopes and along the warm and inviting 
 seas. Is it altogether an unpleasing thought that the 
 conditions of life will be somewhat easier there, that 
 there will be some physical repose, the race having 
 reached the sunset of the continent, comparable to the 
 desirable placidity of hfe called the sunset of old age ? 
 This may be altogether fanciful, but I have sometimes 
 felt, in the sunny moderation of nature there, that this 
 land might offer for thousands at least a winter of 
 content.
 
 CHAPTER YIII. 
 THE GENEEAL OUTLOOK. — LAND AND PKICES. 
 
 From the northern hmit of Cahfornia to the south- 
 ern is about the same distance as from Portsmouth, 
 New Hampshire, to Charleston, South Carohna. Of 
 these two coast hues, covering nearly ten degrees of 
 latitude, or over seven hundred miles, the Atlantic has 
 greater extremes of climate and greater monthly varia- 
 tions, and the Pacific greater variety of productions. 
 The State of California is, however, so mountainous, 
 cut by longitudinal and transverse ranges, that any 
 reasonable person can find in it a temperature to suit 
 him the year through. But it does not need to be 
 explained that it would be difficult to hit upon any 
 general characteristic that would apply to the stretch 
 of the Atlantic coast named, as a guide to a settler 
 looking for a home; the description of Massachusetts 
 would be wholly misleading for South Carohna. It is 
 almost as difficult to make any comprehensive state- 
 ment about the long hne of the California coast. 
 
 It is possible, however, hmiting the inquiry to the 
 southern third of the State — an area of about fifty- 
 eight thousand square miles, as large as Maine, New 
 Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode 
 Island — to answer fairly some of the questions often- 
 est asked about it. These relate to the price of land, 
 its productiveness, the kind of products most profit-
 
 THE GENERAL OUTLOOK. — LAND AND PRICES. 91 
 
 able, the sort of labor required, and its desirability as 
 a i^lace of residence for the laborer, for the farmer or 
 horticulturist of small means, and for the man with 
 considerable capital. Questions on these subjects can- 
 not be answered categorically, but I hope to be able, 
 by setting down my own observations and using trust- 
 worthy reports, to give others the material on which to 
 exercise their judgment. In the first place, I think it 
 demonstrable that a person would profitably exchange 
 160 acres of farming land east of the one hundredth 
 pjarallel for ten acres, with a water right, in Southern 
 Cahfornia. 
 
 In making this estimate I do not consider the ques- 
 tion of health or merely the agreeability of the cli- 
 mate, but the conditions of labor, the ease with which 
 one could support a family, and the profits over and 
 above a fair li\dng. It has been customary in reckon- 
 ing the value of land there to look merely to the profit 
 of it beyond its support of a family, forgetting that 
 agriculture and horticulture the world over, like al- 
 most all other kinds of business, usually do little more 
 than procure a good comfortable living, with inci- 
 dental education, to those who engage in them. That 
 the majority of the inhabitants of Southern California 
 will become rich by the culture of the orange and the 
 vine is an illusion; but it is not an illusion that 
 twenty times its present population can live there in 
 comfort, in what might be called luxury elsewhere, by 
 the cultivation of the soil, all far removed from pov- 
 erty and much above the condition of the majority of 
 the inhabitants of the foreign wine and fruit-produc- 
 ing countries. This result is assured by the extraor- 
 dinary productiveness of the land, uninterrupted the
 
 92 
 
 OUE ITALY. 
 
 year through, and by the amazing extension of the 
 market in the United States for products that can be 
 nowhere else produced with such certainty and profu- 
 sion as in Cahfornia. That State is only just learning 
 how to supply a demand which is daily increasing, but 
 it already begins to command the market in certain 
 fruits. This command of the market in the future 
 will depend upon itseK, that is, whether it will send 
 
 YUCCA -PALM. 
 
 East and North only sound wine, instead of crude, ill- 
 cured juice of the grape, only the best and most care- 
 fully canned apricots, nectarines, peaches, and plums,
 
 THE GENEKAL OUTLOOK. — LAND AND PRICES. 
 
 93 
 
 only the raisins and prunes perfectly prepared, only 
 such oranges, lemons, and grapes and pears as the 
 Calif ornians are willing to eat themselves. California 
 has yet much to learn about fruit-raising and fruit- 
 curing, but it already 
 knows that to compete 
 with the rest of the 
 world in our markets 
 it must beat the rest 
 of the world in qual- 
 ity. It will take some 
 time yet to remove the 
 unfavorable opinion of 
 California wines pro- 
 duced in the East by 
 the first products of the 
 vineyards sent here. 
 
 The difficulty for the 
 settler is that he can- 
 not "take up" ten acres 
 with water in Califor- 
 nia as he can 160 acres 
 elsewhere. There is 
 left little available 
 
 Government land. There is plenty of government 
 land not taken up and which may never be occupied, 
 that is, inaccessible mountain and irreclaimable desert. 
 There are also little nooks and fertile sj^ots here and 
 there to be discovered which may be pre-empted, and 
 which will some day have value. But practically all 
 the arable land, or that is likely to become so, is owned 
 now in large tracts, under grants or by wholesale pur- 
 chase. The circumstances of the case compelled asso- 
 
 DATE-PALM.
 
 94: OUE ITALY. 
 
 ciate effort. Such a desert as that now blooming re- 
 gion known as Pasadena, Pomona, Riverside, and so 
 on, could not be subdued by individual exertion. Con- 
 sequently land and water companies were organized. 
 They bought large tracts of imimproved land, built 
 dams in the mountain canons, sunk wells, drew water 
 from the rivers, made reservoirs, laid pipes, carried 
 ditches and conduits across the country, and then sold 
 the land with the inseparable water right in small par- 
 cels. Thus the region became subdivided among small 
 holders, each independent, but all mutually dependent 
 as to water, which is the sine qua non of existence. It 
 is only a few years since there was a forlorn and strug- 
 gling colony a few miles east of Los Angeles known as 
 the Indiana settlement. It had scant water, no rail- 
 way communication, and everything to learn about 
 horticulture. That spot is now the famous Pasadena. 
 What has been done in the Santa Ana and San 
 Gabriel valleys will be done elsewhere in the State. 
 There are places in Kern County, north of the Sierra 
 Madre, where the land produces grain and aKalfa with- 
 out irrigation, where farms can be bought at from five 
 to ten dollars an acre — land that will undoubtedly in- 
 crease in value with settlement and also by irrigation. 
 The great county of San Diego is practically undevel- 
 oped, and contains an immense area, in scattered mesas 
 and valleys, of land which will produce apples, grain, 
 and grass without irrigation, and which the settler can 
 get at moderate prices. Nay, more, any one with a lit- 
 tle ready money, who goes to Southern Cahfornia ex- 
 pecting to establish himself and willing to work, will 
 be welcomed and aided, and be pretty certain to find 
 some place where he can steadily improve his condi-
 
 THE GENERAL OUTLOOK. — LAND AND PRICES. 95 
 
 tion. But the regions about which one hears most, 
 which are ah'eady fruit gardens and well sprinkled 
 with rose-clad homes, command prices per acre which 
 seem extravagant. Land, however, hke a mine, gets 
 its value from what it will produce ; and it is to be 
 noted that while the subsidence of the "boom" knock- 
 ed the value out of twenty-feet city lots staked out in 
 the wilderness, and out of insanely inflated city prop- 
 erty, the land upon wliich crops are raised has steadily 
 appreciated in value. 
 
 So many conditions enter into the price of land 
 that it is impossible to name an average price for the 
 arable land of the southern counties, but I have heard 
 good judges place it at $100 an acre. The lands, with 
 water, are very much ahke in their producing power, 
 but some, for climatic reasons, are better adapted to 
 citrus fi'uits, others to the raisin grape, and others to 
 deciduous fruits. The value is also affected by rail- 
 way facilities, contiguity to the local commercial cen- 
 tre, and also by the character of the settlement — that 
 is, by its morality, pubhc spirit, and facilities for edu- 
 cation. Every town and settlement thinks it has 
 special advantages as to improved irrigation, equa- 
 bihty of temperature, adaptation to this or that prod- 
 uct, attractions for invalids, tempered ocean breezes, 
 protection from "northers," schools, and varied indus- 
 tries. These things are so much matter of personal 
 choice that each settler will do well to examine widely 
 for himself, and not buy until he is suited. 
 
 Some figures, which may be depended on, of actual 
 sales and of annual yields, may be of service. They 
 are of the district east of Pasadena and Pomona, but 
 fairly represent the whole region down to Los Angeles.
 
 96 OUK ITALY. 
 
 The selling price of raisin grape land "unimproved, but 
 with water, at Riverside is $250 to $300 per acre; at 
 South Riverside, $150 to $200; in the highland district 
 of San Bernardino, and at Redlands (which is a new 
 settlement east of the city of San Bernardino), $200 to 
 $250 per acre. At Banning and at Hesperia, which he 
 north of the San Bernardino range, $125 to $150 per 
 acre are the prices askedo Distance from the com- 
 mercial centre accounts for the difference in price in 
 the towns named. The crop varies with the care and 
 skill of the cultivator, but a fair average from the 
 vines at two years is two tons per acre; three years, 
 three tons; four years, five tons; five years, seven tons. 
 The price varies with the season, and also whether its 
 sale is upon the vines, or after picking, drying, and 
 sweating, or the packed product. On the vines $20 
 per ton is a fair average price. In exceptional cases 
 vineyards at Riverside have produced four tons per 
 acre in twenty months from the setting of the cut- 
 tings, and six -year -old vines have produced thirteen 
 and a half tons per acre. If the grower has a crop of, 
 say, 2000 packed boxes of raisins of twenty pounds 
 each box, it will pay him to pack his own crop and 
 establish a "brand" for it. In 1889 three adjoining 
 vineyards in Riverside, producing about the same 
 average crops, were sold as follows: The first vine- 
 yard, at $17 50 per ton on the vines, yielded $150 per 
 acre; the second, at six cents a pound, in the sweat 
 boxes, yielded $276 per acre ; the third, at $1 80 per 
 box, packed, yielded $114 per acre. 
 
 Land adapted to the deciduous fruits, such as apri- 
 cots and peaches, is worth as much as raisin land, and 
 some years pays better. The pear and the ajDple need
 
 THE GENERAL OUTLOOK. — LAND AND PRICES. 97 
 
 greater elevation, and are of better quality when grown 
 on high ground than in the valleys. I have reason to 
 beheve that the mountain regions of San Diego Coun- 
 ty are specially adapted to the apple. 
 
 Good orange land unimproved, but with water, is 
 worth from $300 to $500 an acre. If we add to this 
 price the cost of budded trees, the care of them for 
 four years, and interest at eight per cent, per annum 
 for four years, the cost of a good grove will be about 
 $1000 an acre. It must be understood that the profit 
 of an orange grove depends upon care, skill, and busi- 
 ness ability. The kind of orange grown with refer- 
 ence to the demand, the judgment about more or less 
 irrigation as affecting the quality, the cultivation of 
 the soil, and the arrangements for marketing, are all 
 elements in the problem. There are young groves at 
 Riverside, five years old, that are paying ten per cent, 
 net upon from $3000 to $5000 an acre; while there are 
 older groves, which, at the prices for fruit in the 
 spring of 1890 — $1 60 per box for seedlings and $3 per 
 box for navels delivered at the packing-houses — paid 
 at the rate of ten per cent, net on $7500 per acre. 
 
 In all these estimates water must be reckoned as a 
 prime factor. What, then, is water worth per inch, 
 generally, in all this fruit region from Redlands to Los 
 Angeles"? It is worth just the amount it will add to 
 the commercial value of land irrigated by it, and that 
 may be roughly estimated at from $500 to $1000 an 
 inch of continuous flow. Take an illustration. A 
 piece of land at Riverside below the flow of water was 
 worth $300 an acre. Contiguous to it was another 
 piece not irrigated which would not seU for $50 an 
 acre. By bringing water to it, it would quickly seU 
 
 7
 
 98 OUR ITALY. 
 
 for $300, thus adding $250 to its value. As the esti- 
 mate at Riverside is that one inch of water will irri- 
 gate five acres of fruit land, five times $250 would he 
 $1250 per inch, at which price water for irrigation has 
 actually heen sold at Riverside. 
 
 The standard of measurement of water in Southern 
 Cahfornia is the miner's inch under four inches' pres- 
 sure, or the amount that will fiow through an inch- 
 square opening under a pressure of four inches meas- 
 ured from the surface of the water in the conduit to 
 the centre of the opening through which it flows. 
 This is nine gallons a minute, or, as it is figured, 1728 
 cubic feet or 12,960 gallons in twenty-four hours, and 
 1.50 of a cubic foot a second. This flow would cover 
 ten acres about eighteen inches deep in a year ; that 
 is, it would give the land the equivalent of eighteen 
 inches of rain, distributed exactly when and where it 
 was needed, none being wasted, and more serviceable 
 than fifty inches of rainfall as it generally comes. 
 This, with the natural rainfall, is sufficient for citrus 
 fruits and for corn and alfalfa, in soil not too sandy, 
 and it is too much for grapes and all deciduous fruits.
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF IKEIGATION. 
 
 It is necessary to understand this problem of irri- 
 gation in order to comprehend Southern Cahfornia, the 
 exceptional value of its arable land, the certainty and 
 great variety of its products, and the part it is to play 
 in our markets. There are three factors in the expec- 
 tation of a crop — soil, sunshine, and water. In a re- 
 gion where we can assume the first two to be constant, 
 the only uncertainty is water. Southern California 
 is practically without rain from May to December. 
 Upon this fact rests the immense value of its soil, and 
 the certainty that it can supply the rest of the Union 
 with a great variety of products. This certainty must 
 be piu'chased by a previous investment of money. 
 Water is everywhere to be had for money, in some 
 locahties by surface wells, in others by artesian-wells, 
 in others fi'om such streams as the Los Angeles and 
 the Santa Ana, and from reservoirs secured by dams 
 in the heart of the high mountains. It is possible to 
 compute the cost of any one of the systems of irriga- 
 tion, to determine whether it will pay by calculating 
 the amount of land it will irrigate. The cost of pro- 
 curing water varies greatly with the situation, and it 
 is conceivable that money can be lost in such an in- 
 vestment, but I have yet to hear of any irrigation that 
 has not been more or less successful.
 
 100 OUE ITALY. 
 
 Farming and fruit - raising are usually games of 
 hazard. Grood crops and poor crops depend upon 
 enough rain and not too much at just the right times. 
 A wheat field which has a good start with moderate 
 rain may later wither in a drought, or he ruined hy too 
 much water at the time of maturity. And, avoiding 
 all serious reverses from either dryness or wet, every 
 farmer knows that the quality and quantity of the 
 product would be immensely improved if the growing 
 stalks and roots could have water when and only when 
 they need it. The difference would he between, say, 
 twenty and forty bushels of grain or roots to the acre, 
 and that means the difference between profit and loss. 
 There is probably not a crop of any kind grown in the 
 great AYest that would not be immensely benefited if 
 it could be irrigated once or twice a year; and prob- 
 ably anywhere that water is attainable the cost of irri- 
 gation would be abundantly paid in the yield from 
 year to year. Farming in the West with even a little 
 irrigation would not be the game of hazard that it is. 
 And it may further be assumed that there is not a 
 vegetable patch or a fruit orchard East or West that 
 would not yield better quality and more abundantly 
 with irrigation. 
 
 But this is not all. Any farmer who attempts to 
 raise grass and potatoes and strawberries on contigu- 
 ous fields, subject to the same chance of drought or 
 rainfall, has a vivid sense of his difficulties. The pota- 
 toes are spoiled by the water that helps the grass, and 
 the coquettish strawberry will not thrive on the regi- 
 men that suits the grosser crops. In California, which 
 by its climate and soil gives a greater variety of prod- 
 ucts than any other region in the Union, the supply
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF IRRIGATION. 
 
 101 
 
 of water is adjusted to the needs of each crop, even 
 on contiguous fields. No two products need the same 
 amount of water, or need it at the same time. The 
 orange needs more than the grape, the alfalfa more 
 than the orange, the peach and apricot less than the 
 orange; the olive, the fig, the ahnond, the English wal- 
 nut, demand each a different supply. Depending en- 
 
 RAISIN-CURING. 
 
 tirely on irrigation six months of the year, the farmer 
 in Southern California is practically certain of his crop 
 year after year ; and if all his plants and trees are in 
 a healthful condition, as they will be if he is not too 
 idle to cultivate as well as irrigate, his yield will be 
 about double what it would be without systematic irri- 
 gation. It is this practical control of the water the
 
 102 OUR ITALY. 
 
 year round, in a climate where sunshine is the rule, 
 that makes the productiveness of California so large 
 as to be incomprehensible to Eastern people. Even 
 the trees are not dormant more than three or four 
 months in the year. 
 
 But irrigation, in order to be successful, must be 
 intelhgently applied. In unskilful hands it may work 
 more damage than benefit. Mr. Theodore S. Yan Dyke, 
 who may always be quoted with confidence, says that 
 the ground should never be flooded ; that water must 
 not touch the plant or tree, or come near enough to 
 make the soil bake around it ; and that it should be let 
 in in small streams for two or three days, and not in 
 large streams for a few hours. It is of the first im- 
 portance that the ground shall be stirred as soon as 
 dry enough, the cultivation to be continued, and water 
 never to be substituted for the cultivator to prevent 
 baking. The methods of irrigation in use may be re- 
 duced to three. First, the old Mexican way — running 
 a small ditch from tree to tree, without any basin round 
 the tree. Second, the basin system, where a large ba- 
 sin is made round the tree, and filled several times. 
 This should only be used where water is scarce, for it 
 trains the roots hke a brush, instead of sending them 
 out laterally into the soil. Third, the Riverside meth- 
 od, which is the best in the world, and produces the 
 largest results with the least water and the least work. 
 It is the closest imitation of the natural process of 
 wetting by gentle rain. "A small flume, eight or ten 
 inches square, of common red-wood is laid along the 
 upper side of a ten-acre tract. At intervals of one to 
 three feet, according to the nature of the ground and 
 the stuff to be irrigated, are bored one-inch holes, with
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF IRRIGATION. 103 
 
 a small wooden button over them to regulate the flow. 
 This flume costs a trifle, is left in position, lasts for 
 years, and is always ready. Into this flume is turned 
 fi'om the ditch an irrigating head of 20, 25, or 30 inches 
 of water, generally about 20 inches. This is divided 
 by the holes and the buttons into streams of from one- 
 sixth to one-tenth of an inch each, making from 120 
 to 200 small streams. From five to seven furrows are 
 made between two rows of trees, two between rows of 
 grapes, one furrow between rows of corn, potatoes, etc. 
 It may take from fifteen to twenty hours for one of the 
 streams to get across the tract. They are allowed to 
 run from forty-eight to seventy-two hours. The ground 
 is then thoroughly wet in all directions, and three or 
 four feet deep. As soon as the ground is dry enough 
 cultivation is begun, and kept up from six to eight 
 weeks before water is used again." Only when the 
 ground is very sandy is the basin system necessary. 
 Long experiment has taught that this system is by far 
 the best; and, says Mr. Van Dyke, "Those whose ideas 
 are taken from the wasteful systems of flooding or 
 soaking from big ditches have something to learn in 
 Southern Cahfornia." 
 
 As to the quantity of water needed in the kind of 
 soil most common in Southern California I T\dll again 
 quote Mr. Van Dyke: "They will teU you at Riverside 
 that they use an inch of water to five acres, and some 
 say an inch to three acres. But this is because they 
 charge to the land all the waste on the main ditch, and 
 because they use thu'ty per cent, of the water in July 
 and August, when it is the lowest. But this is no test 
 of the duty of water; the amount actually dehvered 
 on the land should be taken. What they actually use
 
 104 OUK ITALY. 
 
 for ten acres at Riverside, Redlands, etc., is a twenty- 
 inch stream of three days' run five times a year, equal 
 to 300 inches for one day, or one inch steadj^ run for 
 300 days. As an inch is the equivalent of 365 inches 
 
 IKRIGATION BY ARTESIAN-WKI.L SYSTEM. 
 
 for one day, or one inch for 365 days, 300 inches for 
 one day equals an inch to twelve acres. Many use 
 even less than this, running the water only two or 
 two and a half days at a time. Others use more head; 
 but it rarely exceeds 24 inches for three days and five 
 times a year, which would be 72 multiphed by 5, or 
 360 inches — a little less than a full inch for a year for 
 ten acres." 
 
 I have given room to these details because the 
 Riverside experiment, which results in such large re- 
 turns of excellent fruit, is worthy of the attention of 
 cultivators everywhere. The constant stirring of the
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF IKRIGATION. 105 
 
 soil, to keep it loose as well as to keep down useless 
 growths, is second in importance only to irrigation. 
 Some years ago, when it was ascertained that tracts of 
 land which had been regarded as only fit for herding 
 cattle and sheep would by good ploughing and con- 
 stant cultivation produce fair crops without any artifi- 
 cial watering, there spread abroad a notion that irriga- 
 tion could be dispensed with. There are large areas, 
 dry and cracked on the surface, where the soil is moist 
 three and four feet below the surface in the dry sea- 
 son. By keeping the surface broken and well pulver- 
 ized the moisture rises sufficiently to insure a crop. 
 
 
 IRRIGATION BY PIPE SYSTEM. 
 
 Many Western farmers have found out this secret of 
 cultivation, and more will learn in time the good sense 
 of not spreading themselves over too large an area; 
 that forty acres planted and cultivated will give a
 
 106 OUR ITALY. 
 
 better return than eighty acres planted and neglected. 
 Crops of various sorts are raised in Southern Califor- 
 nia by careful cultivation with little or no irrigation, 
 but the idea that cultivation alone will bring sufficient- 
 ly good production is now practically abandoned, and 
 the almost universal experience is that judicious irri- 
 gation always improves the crop in quahty and in 
 quantity, and that iiTigation and cultivation are both 
 essential to profitable farming or fruit-raising.
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 THE CHANCE FOR LABOREES AND SMALL FARMERS. 
 
 It would seem, then, that capital is necessary for 
 snccessfnl agriculture or horticulture in Southern Cah- 
 fornia. But where is it not needed'? In New Eng- 
 land ? In Kansas, where land which was given to 
 actual settlers is covered with mortgages for money 
 absolutely necessary to develop it ? But passing this 
 by, what is the chance in Southern California for la- 
 borers and for mechanics? Let us understand the sit- 
 uation. In California there is no exception to the rule 
 that continual labor, thrift, and foresight are essential 
 to the getting of a good hving or the gaining of a com- 
 petence. No doubt speculation will spring up again. 
 It is inevitable with the present enormous and yearly 
 increasing yield of fruits, the better intelhgence in ^ine 
 culture, wine-making, and raisin-curing, the growth of 
 marketable oranges, lemons, etc., and the consequent 
 rise in the value of land. Doubtless fortunes mil be 
 made by enterprising companies who secure large areas 
 of unimproved land at low prices, bring water on them, 
 and then sell in small lots. But this will come to an 
 end. The tendency is to subdivide the land into small 
 holdings — into farms and gardens of ten and twenty 
 acres. The great ranches are sm'e to be broken up, 
 "With the resulting settlement by industrious people 
 the cities mil again experience "booms ;" but these are
 
 108 OUR ITALY. 
 
 not peculiar to California. In my mind I see the time 
 when this region (because it will pay better propor- 
 tionally to cultivate a small area) will be one of small 
 farms, of neat cottages, of industrious homes. The 
 owner is pretty certain to prosper — that is, to get a 
 good living (which is independence), and lay aside a 
 little yearly — if the work is done by himself and his 
 family. And the peculiarity of the situation is that 
 the farm or garden, whichever it is called, will give 
 agreeable and most healthful occupation to all the 
 boys and girls in the family all the days in the year 
 that can be spared from the school. Aside from the 
 ploughing, the labor is light. Pruning, grafting, bud- 
 ding, the picking of the grapes, the gathering of the 
 fruit from the trees, the sorting, packing, and canning, 
 are labor for light and deft hands, and labor distrib- 
 uted through the year. The harvest, of one sort and 
 another, is almost continuous, so that young girls and 
 boys can have, in well-settled districts, pretty steady 
 employment — a long season in establishments packing 
 oranges ; at another time, in canning fruits ; at an- 
 other, in packing raisins. 
 
 It goes without saying that in the industries now 
 developed, and in others as important which are in 
 their infancy (for instance, the culture of the olive 
 for oil and as an article of food; the growth and cur- 
 ing of figs ; the gathering of almonds, Enghsh walnuts, 
 etc.), the labor of the owners of the land and their 
 families will not suffice. There must be as large a 
 proportion of day -laborers as there are in other re- 
 gions where such products are grown. Chinese labor 
 at certain seasons has been a necessity. Under the 
 present pohcy of California this must diminish, and its
 
 THE CHANCE FOR LABORERS AND SMALL FARMERS. 109 
 
 place be taken by some other. The pay for this labor 
 has always been good. It is certain to be more and 
 more in demand. Whether the pay vnM ever apj^roaeh 
 near to the European standard is a question, but it is 
 a fair presumption that the exceptional profit of the 
 land, owing to its productiveness, will for a long time 
 keep wages up. 
 
 During the " boom " iDcriod all wages were high, 
 those of sldlled mechanics especially, owing to tlie 
 great amount of building on speculation. The ordi- 
 nary laborer on a ranch had $30 a month and board 
 and lodging ; laborers of a higher grade, $2 to $2 50 a 
 day; skilled masons, $6; carpenters, from $3 50 to $5; 
 plasterers, $4 to $5 ; house-servants, from $25 to $35 a 
 month. Since the " boom," wages of skilled mechanics 
 have declined at least 25 per cent., and there has been 
 less demand for labor generally, except in connection 
 with fruit raising and harvesting. It would be unwise 
 for laborers to go to California on an uncertainty, but 
 it can be said of that country with more confidence 
 than of any other section that its pecuhar industries, 
 now daily increasing, will absorb an increasing amount 
 of day labor, and later on it will remunerate skilled 
 artisan labor. 
 
 In deciding whether Southern Cahfornia would be 
 an agreeable place of residence there are other things 
 to be considered besides the productiveness of the soil, 
 the variety of products, the ease of out-door labor dis- 
 tributed through the year, the certainty of returns for 
 intelhgent investment WT.th labor, the equability of 
 summer and muter, and the adaptation to i3ersonal 
 health. There are always disadvantages attending the 
 development of a new country and the evolution of a
 
 110 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 new society. It is not a small thing, and may be one 
 of daily discontent, the change from a landscape clad 
 with verdure, the riotous and irrepressible growth of a 
 rainy region, to a land that the greater part of the year 
 is green only where it is artificially watered, where all 
 
 GARDEN SCENE, SANTA ANA. 
 
 the hills and unwatered plains are brown and sere, 
 where the foliage is coated with dust, and where driv- 
 ing anywhere outside the sprinkled avenues of a town 
 is to be enveloped in a cloud of powdered earth. This
 
 THE CHANCE FOE LABORERS AND SMALL FARMERS. Ill 
 
 discomfort must be weighed against the commercial 
 advantages of a land of irrigation. 
 
 What are the chances for a family of very moder- 
 ate means to obtain a foothold and thi'ive by farming 
 in Southern California'? I cannot answer this better 
 than by giving substantially the experience of one 
 family, and by saying that this has been paralleled, 
 with change of details, by many others. Of course, in 
 a highly developed settlement, where the land is 
 mostly cultivated, and its actual yearly produce makes 
 its price very high, it is not easy to get a foothold. 
 But there are many regions — say in Orange County, 
 and certainly in San Diego — where land can be had at 
 a moderate price and on easy terms of payment. In- 
 deed, there are few places, as I have said, where an 
 industrious family would not find welcome and cordial 
 help in estabhshing itself. And it must be remem- 
 bered that there are many communities where life is 
 very simple, and the great expense of keeping up an 
 appearance attending life elsewhere need not be reck- 
 oned. 
 
 A few years ago a professional man in a New Eng- 
 land city, who was in dehcate health, with his wife 
 and five boys, all under sixteen, and one too young to 
 be of any service, moved to San Diego. He had in 
 money a small sum, less than a thousand dollars. He 
 had no experience in farming or horticultm^e, and his 
 health would not have permitted him to do much field 
 work in our climate. Fortunately he found in the fer- 
 tile El Cajon Valley, fifteen miles from San Diego, a 
 farmer and fruit - grower, who had upon his place a 
 small unoccupied house. Into that house he moved, 
 furnishing it very simply with furniture bought in San
 
 112 OUR ITALY. 
 
 Diego, and hired Ms services to tlie landlord. The 
 work required was comparatively easy, in tb3 orchard 
 and vineyards, and consisted largely in superintending 
 other laborers. The pay was about enough to support 
 his family without encroaching on his little capital. 
 Very soon, however, he made an arrangement to buy 
 the small house and tract of some twenty acres on 
 which he hved, on time, perhaps making a partial pay- 
 ment. He began at once to ]3ut out an orange orchard 
 and plant a vineyard ; this he accomphshed with the 
 assistance of his boys, who did practically most of the 
 work after the first planting, leaving him a chance to 
 give most of his days to his employer. The orchard 
 and \dneyard work is so light that a smart, intelhgent 
 boy is almost as valuable a worker in the field as a 
 man. The wife, meantime, kept the house and did its 
 work. House -keepmg was comparatively easy ; httle 
 fuel was required except for cooking ; the question of 
 clothes was a minor one. In that climate wants for a 
 fairly comfortable existence are fewer than with us. 
 From the first, almost, vegetables, raised upon the 
 ground while the vines and oranges were growing, 
 contributed largely to the support of the family. The 
 out-door life and freedom fi-om worry insm-ed better 
 health, and the diet of fruit and vegetables, suitable 
 to the chmate, reduced the cost of h\dng to a mini- 
 mum. As soon as the orchard and the vineyard be- 
 gan to j)roduce fruit, the owner was enabled to quit 
 working for his neighbor, and give all his time to the 
 development of his own place. He increased his plant- 
 ing ; he added to his house ; he bought a piece of land 
 adjoining which had a grove of eucalyptus, which 
 would supply him with fuel. At first the society cir-
 
 THE CHANCE EOK LABOKEES AND SMALL FAEMERS. 113 
 
 cle was small, and there was no school; but the in- 
 coming of families had increased the number of chil- 
 dren, so that an excellent public school Avas established. 
 When I saw him he was living in conditions of com- 
 fortable industry ; his land had trebled in value ; the 
 pair of horses which he drove he had bought cheap, 
 for they were Eastern horses; but the chmate had 
 brought them up, so that the team was a serviceable 
 one in good condition. The story is not one of brill- 
 iant success, but to me it is much more hopeful for 
 the country than the other tales I heard of sudden 
 wealth or lucky speculation. It is the founding in an 
 unambitious way of a comfortable home. The boys of 
 the family will branch out, get fields, orchards, vine- 
 yards of their own, and add to the solid producing in- 
 dustry of the country. This orderly, contented indus- 
 try, increasing its gains day by day, little by little, is 
 the life and hope of any State 
 8
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 SOME DETAILS OF THE WONDEEFUL DEVELOPMENT. 
 
 It is not the purpose of this vokime to describe 
 Southern Cahf ornia. That has been thoroughly done ; 
 and details, with figures and pictures in regard to ev- 
 ery town and settlement, will be forthcoming on ap- 
 plication, which will be helpful guides to persons who 
 can see for themselves, or make sufficient allowance 
 for local enthusiasm. But before speaking further of 
 certain industries south of the great mountain ranges, 
 the region north of the Sierra Madre, which is allied 
 to Southern California by its productions, should be 
 mentioned. The beautiful antelope plains and the 
 Kern Valley (where land is still cheap and very pro- 
 ductive) should not be overlooked. The splendid San 
 Joaquin Valley is already speaking loudly and clearly 
 for itself. The region north of the mountains of Kern 
 County, shut in by the Sierra Nevada range on the 
 east and the Coast Kange on the west, substantially 
 one valley, fifty to sixty miles in breadth, watered by 
 the King and the San Joaquin, and gently sloping to 
 the north, say for two hundred miles, is a land of mar- 
 vellous capacity, capable of sustaining a dense popula- 
 tion. It is cooler in winter than Southern California, 
 and the summers average much warmer. Owing to 
 the greater heat, the finiits mature sooner. It is just 
 now becoming celebrated for its raisins, which in qual-
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDERFUL DEVELOPMENT. 115 
 
 ity are unexcelled; and its area, which can be well u'- 
 rigated from the rivers and from the mountains on 
 either side, seems capable of producing raisins enough 
 to supply the world. It is a wonderfully rich valley 
 in a great variety of products. Fresno County, which 
 occupies the centre of this valley, has 1,200,000 acres 
 of agricultm'al and 4,400,000 of mountain and pasture 
 land. The city of Fresno, which occupies land that in 
 1870 was a sheep ranch, is the commercial centre of a 
 beautiful agricultural and fi^uit region, and has a pop- 
 ulation estimated at 12,000. From this centre were 
 shipped in the season of 1890, 1500 car-loads of raisins. 
 In 1865 the only exports of Fresno County were a few 
 bales of wool. The report of 1889 gave a shipment of 
 700,000 boxes of raisins, and the whole export of 1890, 
 of all products, was estimated at $10,000,000. Wheth- 
 er these figures are exact or not, there is no doubt of 
 the extraordinary success of the raisin industry, nor 
 that this is a region of great activity and promise. 
 
 The traveller has constantly to remind himself that 
 this is a new country, and to be judged as a new coun- 
 try. It is out of his experience that trees can grow so 
 fast, and plantations in so short a time put on an ap- 
 pearance of maturity. When he sees a roomy, pretty 
 cottage overrun with vines and flowering plants, set in 
 the midst of trees and lawns and gardens of tropical 
 appearance and luxuriance, he can hardly beheve that 
 three years before this spot was desert land. When 
 he looks over miles of vineyards, of groves of oranges, 
 olives, walnuts, prunes, the trees all in vigorous bear- 
 ing, he cannot beheve that five or ten years before the 
 whole region was a waste. When he enters a hand- 
 some viUage, with substantial buildings of brick, and
 
 116 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 perhaps of stone, with fine school -houses, banks, ho- 
 tels, an opera-house, large packing -houses, and ware- 
 houses and shops of all sorts, with tasteful dwellings 
 and lovely ornamented lawns, it is hard to understand 
 
 A GRAPE-VINE, MONTECITO VALLEY, SANTA BARBARA. 
 
 that all this is the creation of two or three years. Yet 
 these suri)rises meet the traveller at every turn, and 
 the wonder is that there is not visible more crudeness, 
 eccentric taste, and evidence of hasty beginnings. 
 San Bernardino is comparatively a.n old town. It
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDEEFUL DEVELOPMENT. 117 
 
 was settled in 1853 by a colony of Mormons from Salt 
 Lake. The remains of this colony, less than a hun- 
 dred, still live here, and have a church like the other 
 sects, but they call themselves Josephites, and do not 
 practise polygamy. There is probably not a sect or 
 schism in the United States that has not its represent- 
 ative in California. Until 1865 San Bernardino was 
 merely a straggling settlement, and a point of distribu- 
 tion for Arizona. The discovery that a large part of 
 the county was adapted to the orange and the vine, 
 and the advent of the Santa Fe railway, changed all 
 that. Land that then might have been bought for 
 $4 an acre is now sold at from $200 to $300, and the 
 city has become the busy commercial centre of a large 
 number of growing villages, and of one of the most 
 remarkable orange and vine districts in the world. It 
 has many fine buildings, a population of about 6000, 
 and a decided air of vigorous business. The great 
 plain about it is mainly devoted to agricultural prod- 
 ucts, which are grown without irrigation, while in the 
 near foot-hills the orange and the vine flourish by the 
 aid of irrigation. Artesian - wells abound in the San 
 Bernardino plain, but the mountains are the great and 
 unfailing source of water supply. The Bear Valley 
 Dam is a most daring and gigantic construction. A 
 sohd wall of masonry, 300 feet long and 60 feet high, 
 curving towards the reservoir, creates an inland lake in 
 the mountains holding water enough to irrigate 20,000 
 acres of land. This is conveyed to distributing reser- 
 voirs in the east end of the valley. On a terrace in 
 the foot-hills a few miles to the north, 2000 feet above 
 the sea, are the Arrow-head Hot Springs (named from 
 the figure of a gigantic "arrow-head" on the mount-
 
 118 OUE ITALY. 
 
 ain above), abeacly a favorite resort for health and 
 pleasure. The views from the plain of the picturesque 
 foot-hills and the snow-peaks of the San Bernardino 
 range are exceedingly fine. The marvellous beauty of 
 the purple and deep violet of the giant hills at sunset, 
 with spotless snow, lingers in the memory. 
 
 Perhaps the settlement of Redlands, ten miles by 
 rail east of San Bernardino, is as good an illustration 
 as any of rapid develoi)ment and great promise. It is 
 devoted to the orange and the grape. As late as 1875 
 much of it was Government land, considered value- 
 less. It had a few settlers, but the town, which counts 
 now about 2000 people, was only begun in 1887. It 
 has many sohd brick edifices and many pretty cottages 
 on its gentle slopes and rounded hills, overlooked by 
 the great mountains. The view fi'om any point of 
 vantage of orchards and vineyards and semi-tropical 
 gardens, with the wide sky-line of noble and snow-clad 
 hills, is exceedingly attractive. The region is watered 
 by the Santa Ana River and Mill Creek, but the main 
 irrigating streams, which make every hill-top to bloom 
 with vegetation, come fi*om the Bear YaUey Reservou\ 
 On a hill to the south of the town the Smiley Brothers, 
 of Catskill fame, are building fine residences, and plant- 
 ing then' 125 acres with fruit-trees and ^ines, ever- 
 greens, flowers, and semi -tropic shrubbery in a style 
 of landscape-gardening that in three years at the fur- 
 thest wiU make this spot one of the few gi'eat show- 
 places of the country. Behind their ridge is the San 
 Mateo Caiion, thi-ough which the Southern Pacific 
 Railway runs, while in fi-ont are the splendid sloping 
 plains, valleys, and orange groves, and the great sweep 
 of mountains from San Jacinto round to the Sierra
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDERFUL DEVELOPMENT. 119 
 
 Madre range. It is almost a matcliless prospect. The 
 climate is most agreeable, the plantations increase 
 month by month, and thus far the orange-trees have 
 not been visited by the scale, nor the \ines by any 
 sickness. Although the groves are still young, there 
 were shipped from Redlands in the season of 1889-90 
 80 car-loads of oranges, of 286 boxes to the car, at a 
 price averaging nearly $1000 a car. That season's 
 planting of oranges was over 1200 acres. It had over 
 5000 acres in fruits, of which nearly 3000 were in 
 peaches, apricots, grapes, and other sorts called de- 
 ciduous. 
 
 Riverside may without prejudice be regarded as 
 the centre of the orange growth and trade. The rail- 
 way shipments of oranges from Southern California in 
 the season of 1890 aggregated about 2400 car-loads, or 
 about 800,000 boxes, of oranges (in which estimate the 
 lemons are included), valued at about $1,500,000. Of 
 this shipment more than haK was from Riverside. 
 This has been, of course, greatly stimulated by the im- 
 proved railroad facilities, among them the shortening 
 of the time to Chicago by the Santa Fe route, and the 
 running of special fruit trains. Southern California 
 responds like magic to this chance to send her fruits 
 to the East, and the area planted month by month is 
 something enormous. It is estimated that the crop 
 of oranges alone in 1891 will be over 4500 car-loads. 
 We are accustomed to discount all California esti- 
 mates, but I think that no one yet has comprehended 
 the amount to which the shipments to Eastern mar- 
 kets of vegetables and fresh and canned fruits will 
 reach within five years. I base my prediction upon 
 some observation of the Eastern demand and the re-
 
 120 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 ports of fruit -dealers, upon what I saw of the new 
 plantmg all over the State in 1890, and upon the sta- 
 tistics of increase. Take Riverside as an example. 
 In 1872 it was a poor sheep ranch. In 1880-81 it 
 shipped 15 car-loads, or 4290 boxes, of oranges; the 
 amount yearly increased, until in 1888-89 it was 925 
 car-loads, or 263,879 boxes. In 1890 it rose to 1253 
 car-loads, or 358,311 boxes ; and an important fact is 
 that the largest shipment was in April (455 car-loads, 
 or 130,226 boxes), at the time when the supply from 
 other orange regions for the markets East had nearly 
 ceased. 
 
 It should be said, also, that the quality of the 
 oranges has vastly improved. This is owing to better 
 cultivation, knowledge of proper irrigation, and the 
 
 adoption of the best va- 
 rieties for the soil. As 
 different sorts of or- 
 anges mature at differ- 
 ent seasons, a variety is 
 , needed to give edible 
 fruit in each month from 
 December to May inclu- 
 sive. In February, 1887, 
 I could not find an or- 
 ange of the first class 
 compared with the best 
 It may have been too early 
 but I believe there has been 
 a marked improvement in quahty. In May, 1890, 
 we found delicious oranges almost everywhere. The 
 seedless Washington and Australian navels are fa- 
 vorites, especially for the market, on account of their 
 
 IRKIHATTNfi AN ORCHARD. 
 
 fruit in other regions, 
 for the varieties I tried
 
 ORANGE CULTUHK. 
 
 PackiM- Oranges-Navel Orange-lrcL- Six Years Old-Irrigating an Orange Grove.
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDERFUL DEVELOPMENT. 123 
 
 great size and fine color. When in perfection they 
 are very fine, but the skin is thick and the texture 
 coarser than that of some others. The best orange 
 I happened to taste was a Tahiti seedhng at Monte- 
 cito (Santa Barbara). It is a small orange, with a 
 thin skin and a compact, sweet pulp that leaves lit- 
 tle fibre. It resembles the famous orange of Malta. 
 But there are many excellent varieties — the Mediter- 
 ranean sweet, the paper rind St. Michael, the Maltese 
 blood, etc. The experiments with seedhngs are profit- 
 able, and will give ever new varieties. I noted that 
 the ''grape fruit," which is becoming so much hked 
 in the East, is not appreciated in California. 
 
 The city of Riverside occupies an area of some five 
 miles by three, and claims to have 6000 inhabitants ; 
 the centre is a substantial town with fine school and 
 other pubhc buildings, but the region is one succession 
 of orange groves and \ineyards, of comfortable houses 
 and broad avenues. One avenue through which we 
 drove is 125 feet wide and 12 miles long, planted in 
 three rows with palms, magnohas, the GreviUea rohusta 
 (Australian fern), the pepper, and the eucalyptus, and 
 lined all the way by splendid orange groves, in the 
 midst of which are houses and grounds with semi- 
 tropical attractions. Nothing could be loveher than 
 such a scene of fruits and flowers, with the back- 
 ground of purple hills and snowy peaks. The mount- 
 ain views are superb. Frost is a rare visitor. Not 
 in fifteen years has there been enough to affect the 
 orange. There is httle rain after March, but there are 
 fogs and dew-falls, and the ocean breeze is felt daily. 
 The grape grown for raisins is the muscat, and this 
 has had no "sickness." Vigilance and a quarantine
 
 124 OUR ITALY. 
 
 have also kept from the orange the scale which has 
 been so annoying in some other localities. The 
 orange, when cared for, is a generous bearer ; some 
 trees produce twenty boxes each, and there are areas 
 of twenty acres in good bearing which have brought 
 to the owner as much as $10,000 a year. 
 
 The whole region of the Santa Ana and San Ga- 
 briel valleys, from the desert on the east to Los Ange- 
 les, the city of gardens, is a surprise, and year by year 
 an increasing wonder. In production it exhausts the 
 catalogue of fruits and flowers ; its scenery is varied 
 by fever new combinations of the picturesque and the 
 luxuriant ; every town boasts some special advantage 
 in climate, soil, water, or society ; but these differences, 
 many of them visible to the eye, cannot appear in any 
 written description. The traveller may prefer the 
 scenery of Pasadena, or that of Pomona, or of River- 
 side, but the same words in regard to color, fertility, 
 combinations of orchards, avenues, hills, must appear 
 in the description of each. Ontario, Pomona, Puente, 
 Alhambra — wherever one goes there is the same won- 
 der of color and production. 
 
 Pomona is a pleasant city in the midst of fine 
 orange groves, watered abundantly by artesian -wells 
 and irrigating ditches from a mountain reservoir. A 
 specimen of the ancient adobe residence is on the 
 Meserve plantation, a lovely old place, with its gardens 
 of cherries, strawberries, olives, and oranges. From 
 the top of San Jose hill we had a view of a plain 
 twenty-five miles by fifty in extent, dotted with culti- 
 vation, surrounded by mountains — a wonderful pros- 
 pect. Pomona, like its sister cities in this region, has 
 a regard for the intellectual side of life, exhibited in
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDEEFUL DEVELOPMENT. 125 
 
 good school-houses and piibhc hbraries. In the hbra- 
 ry of Pomona is what may be regarded as the tutelary 
 deity of the place — the goddess Pomona, a good copy 
 in marble of the famous statue in the Uffizi Gallery, 
 presented to the city by the Rev. C. F. Loop. This 
 enterprising citizen is making valuable experiments 
 in olive culture, raising a dozen varieties in order to 
 ascertain which is best adapted to this soil, and which 
 will make the best return in oil and in a marketable 
 product of cured fi'uit for the table. 
 
 The growth of the ohve is to be, it seems to me, 
 one of the leading and most permanent industries of 
 Southern California. It will give us, what it is nearly 
 impossible to buy now, i^ure olive oil, in place of the 
 cotton-seed and lard mixture in general use. It is a 
 most wholesome and palatable article of food. Those 
 whose chief experience of the ohve is the large, coarse, 
 and not agreeable Spanish variety, used only as an ap- 
 petizer, know little of the value of the best varieties as 
 food, nutritious as meat, and always delicious. Good 
 bread and a dish of pickled olives make an excellent 
 meal. The sort known as the Mission olive, planted 
 by the Franciscans a century ago, is generally grown 
 now, and the best fruit is from the older trees. The 
 most successful attempts in cultivating the olive and 
 putting it on the market have been made by Mr. F. A. 
 Kimball, of National City, and Mr. Ellwood Cooper, 
 of Santa Barbara. The experiments have gone far 
 enough to show that the industry is very remunera- 
 tive. The best ohve oil I have ever tasted anywhere 
 is that produced from the Cooper and the Kimball 
 orchards ; but not enough is produced to supply the 
 local demand. Mr. Cooper has written a careful trea-
 
 126 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 
 
 --T.: 
 
 4- t*''^ 
 
 
 
 ^^S^/j^fS-^ „ 
 
 IN A FIET.D 
 OF GOLDEN PUMPKINS. 
 
 tise on olive culture, which will be of great service to 
 all growers. The art of pickling is not yet mastered, 
 and perhaps some other variety will be preferred to 
 the old Mission for the table. A mature olive grove 
 in good bearing is a fortune. I feel sure that within 
 twenty-five years this will be one of the most profit- 
 able industries of California, and that the demand for 
 pure oil and edible fruit in the United States will drive 
 out the adulterated and inferior present commercial 
 products. But California can easily ruin its reputa- 
 tion by adopting the European systems of adultera- 
 tion. 
 
 We drove one day fi'om Arcadia Station through
 
 DETAILS OF THE WONDERFUL DEYELOP^MENT. 127 
 
 the region occupied by the Baldwin ^plantations, an 
 area of over fifty thousand acres — a happy illustration 
 of what industry and capital can do in the way of va- 
 riety of productions, especially in w^hat are called the 
 San Anita vineyards and orchards, extending south- 
 ward from the foot-hills. About the home place and 
 in many sections where the irrigating streams flow 
 one might fancy he was in the tropics, so abundant 
 and brilliant are the flowers and exotic plants. There 
 are splendid orchards of oranges, almonds, English 
 walnuts, lemons, peaches, apricots, figs, apples, and 
 olives, with grain and corn — in short, everything that 
 grows in garden or field. The ranch is famous for its 
 brandies and wines as well as fruits. We hmched at 
 the East San Gabriel Hotel, a charming place with a 
 peaceful view from the wide veranda of hve-oaks, or- 
 chards, vineyards, and the noble Sierra Madre range. 
 The Calif ornians may be excused for using the term 
 ' paradisiacal about such scenes. Elowers, flowers ev- 
 erywhere, color on color, and the song of the mockmg- 
 bird!
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 HOW THE FEUIT PEKILS WEEE MET. — FUETHEK DETAILS 
 
 OF LOCALITIES. 
 
 In the San Gabriel Yalley and elsewhere I saw evi- 
 dence of the perils that attend the culture of the vine 
 and the fruit-tree in all other countries, and from 
 which California in the early days thought it was ex- 
 empt. Within the past three or four years there has 
 prevailed a sickness of the vine, the cause of which is 
 unknown, and for which no remedy has been discov- 
 ered. No blight was apparent, but the ^dne sickened 
 and failed. The disease w^as called consumption of 
 the vine. I saw many vineyards subject to it, and 
 hundreds of acres of old vines had been rooted up as 
 useless. I was told by a fruit -buyer in Los Angeles 
 that he thought the raisin industry below Fresno was 
 ended unless new planting recovered the ^sdnes, and 
 that the great wine fields were about "played out." 
 The truth I believe to be that the disease is confined 
 to the vineyards of Old Mission grapes. Whether 
 these had attained the limit of their active life, and 
 sickened, I do not know. The trouble for a time was 
 alarming; but new plantings of other varieties of 
 grapes have been successful, the vineyards look health- 
 ful, and the growlers expect no further difficulty. The 
 planting, which was for a time suspended, has been 
 more visforouslv renewed.
 
 HOW THE FRUIT PERILS WERE MET. 129 
 
 The insect pests attacking the orange were even 
 more serious, and in 1887-88, though httle was pub- 
 lished about it, there was something Uke a panic, in 
 the fear that the orange and lemon culture in South- 
 ern California would be a failure. The enemies were 
 the black, the red, and the white scale. The latter, 
 the icenja pto'cJiasi, or cottony cushion scale, w^as espe- 
 cially loathsome and destructive ; whole orchards were 
 enfeebled, and no way w^as discovered of staying its 
 progress, which threatened also the ohve and every 
 other tree, shrub, and flower. Science was called on 
 to discover its parasite. This was found to be the 
 Australian lady-bug (vedoUa cardinal is), and in 1888-89 
 quantities of this insect were imported and spread 
 throughout Los Angeles County, and sent to Santa 
 Barbara and other afflicted districts. The effect was 
 magical. The vedolia attacked the cottony scale with 
 intense \dgor, and everywhere killed it. The orchards 
 revived as if they had been recreated, and the danger 
 was over. The enemies of the black and the red scale 
 have not yet been discovered, but they probably mil 
 be. Meantime the growers have recovered courage, 
 and are fertilizing and fumigating. In Santa Ana I 
 found that the red scale was fought successfully by 
 fumigating the trees. The operation is performed at 
 night under a movable tent, which covers the tree. 
 The cost is about twenty cents a tree. One lesson of 
 all this is that trees must be fed in order to be kept 
 vigorous to resist such attacks, and that fruit-raising, 
 considering the number of enemies that all fi'uits have 
 in all climates, is not an idle occupation. The clean, 
 handsome English walnut is about the only tree in 
 the State that thus far has no enemy. 
 
 9
 
 130 OUK ITAIiY. 
 
 One cannot take anywhere else a more exhila- 
 rating, delightful drive than about the rolling, highly- 
 cultivated, many-villaed Pasadena, and out to the foot- 
 hills and the Sierra Madre Villa. He is constantly ex- 
 claiming at the varied lovehness of the scene — oranges, 
 palms, formal gardens, hedges of Monterey cypress. It 
 is very Italy-like. The Sierra Madre furnishes abun- 
 dant water for all the valley, and the swift irrigating 
 stream from Eaton Canon waters the Sierra Madre 
 Villa. Among the peaks above it rises Mt. Wilson, 
 a thousand feet above the plain, the site selected for 
 the Harvard Observatory with its 40-inch glass. The 
 clearness of the air at this elevation, and the absence 
 of clouds night and day the greater portion of the 
 year, make this a most advantageous position, it is 
 said, to use the glass in dissolving nebulae. The Sierra 
 Madre Villa, once the most favorite resort in this re- 
 gion, was closed. In its sheltered situation, its luxu- 
 riant and half -neglected gardens, its wide plantations 
 and irrigating streams, it reminds one of some secu- 
 larized monastery on the promontory of Sorrento. It 
 only needs good management to make the hotel very 
 attractive and especially agreeable in the months of 
 winter. 
 
 Pasadena, which exhibits everywhere evidences of 
 wealth and culture, and claims a permanent popula- 
 tion of 12,000, has the air of a winter resort ; the great 
 Hotel Raymond is closed in May, the boarding-houses 
 w^ant occupants, the shops and livery-stables custom- 
 ers, and the streets lack movement. This is easily 
 explained. It is not because Pasadena is not an agree- 
 vibie summer residence, but because the visitors are 
 drawn there in the winter principally to escape the
 
 HOW THE FRUIT PERILS WERE MET. 133 
 
 inclement climate of the North and East, and because 
 special efforts have been made for their entertainment 
 in the winter. We found the atmosphere delightful 
 in the middle of May. The mean summer heat is 67°, 
 and the nights are always cool. The hills near by may 
 be resorted to with the certainty of finding as decided 
 a change as one desires in the summer season. I must 
 repeat that the Southern Cahfornia summer is not at 
 all understood in the East. The statement of the gen- 
 eral equability of the temperature the year through 
 must be insisted on. We lunched one day in a typical 
 California house, in the midst of a garden of fruits, 
 flowers, and tropical shrubs ; in a house that might 
 be described as half roses and half tent, for added to 
 the wooden structure were rooms of canvas, which are 
 used as sleeping apartments winter and summer. 
 
 This attractive region, so lovely in its cultivation, 
 with so many charming drives, offering good shooting 
 on the plains and in the hills, and centrally placed for 
 excursions, is only eight miles from the busy city of 
 Los Angeles. An excellent point of \^ew of the coun- 
 try is from the graded hill on which stands the Ray- 
 mond Hotel, a hill isolated but easy of access, which 
 is in itself a mountain of bloom, color, and fragrance. 
 From all the broad verandas and from every window 
 the prospect is charming, whether the eye rests upon 
 cultivated orchards and gardens and pretty villas, or 
 upon the purple foot-hills and the snowy ranges. It 
 enjoys a daily ocean breeze, and the air is always ex- 
 hilarating. This noble hill is a study in landscape- 
 gardening. It is a mass of brilliant color, and the hos- 
 pitality of the region generally to foreign growths may 
 be estimated by the trees acclimated on these slopes.
 
 134 OUB ITALY. 
 
 They are the pepper, eucalyptus, pine, Cyprus, syca- 
 more, red -wood, ohve, date and fan palms, banana, 
 pomegranate, guava, Japanese persmimon, umbrella, 
 maple, elm, locust, English walnut, birch, ailantus, pop- 
 lar, willow, and more ornamental shrubs than one can 
 well name. 
 
 I can indulge in few locality details except those 
 which are illustrative of the general character of the 
 country. In passing into Orange County, which was 
 recently set off from Los Angeles, we come into a re- 
 gion of less " fashion," but one that for many reasons 
 is attractive to people of moderate means who are 
 content with independent simphcity. The country 
 about the thriving village of Santa Ana is very rich, 
 being abundantly watered by the Santa Ana River and 
 by artesian -wells. The town is nine miles from the 
 ocean. On the ocean side the land is mainly agri- 
 cultural ; on the inland side it is specially adapted to 
 fruit. We drove about it, and in Tustin City, which 
 has many pleasant residences and a vacant "boom" 
 hotel, through endless plantations of oranges. On the 
 road towards Los Angeles we passed large herds of 
 cattle and sheep, and fine groves of the Enghsh wal- 
 nut, which thrives especially well in this soil and the 
 neighborhood of the sea. There is comparatively ht- 
 tle waste land in this valley district, as one may see 
 by driving through the country about Santa Ana, 
 Orange, Anaheim, Tustin City, etc. Anaheim is a 
 prosperous German colony. It was here that Madame 
 Modjeska and her husband. Count Bozenta, first set- 
 tled in California. They own and occupy now a pict- 
 uresque ranch in the Santiago Canon of the Santa 
 Ana range, twenty-two miles fi'om Santa Ana. This
 
 HOW THE FRUIT PERILS WERE MET. 135 
 
 is one of the richest regions in the State, and with 
 its fair quota of working population, it will be one of 
 the most productive. 
 
 From Newport, on the coast, or from San Pedro, 
 one may visit the island of Santa Catalina. Want of 
 time prevented our going there. Sportsmen enjoy 
 there the exciting pastime of hunting the wild goat. 
 From the photographs I saw, and from all I heard of 
 it, it must be as picturesque a resort in natural beauty 
 as the British Channel islands. 
 
 Los Angeles is the metropolitan centre of all this 
 region. A handsome, sohd, thriving city, envu'oned 
 by gardens, gay everywhere with flowers, it is too well 
 known to require any description from me. To the 
 traveller from the East it will always be a surprise. 
 Its growth has been phenomenal, and although it may 
 not equal the expectations of the crazy excitement of 
 1886-87, 50,000 people is a great assemblage for a new 
 city which numbered only about 11,000 in 1880. It of 
 course felt the subsidence of the " boom," but while I 
 missed the feverish crowds of 1887, 1 was struck with 
 its substantial progress in fine, solid buildings, pave- 
 ments, sewerage, railways, educational facilities, and 
 ornamental grounds. It has a secure hold on the 
 commerce of the region. The assessment roll of the 
 city increased from $7,627,632 in 1881 to $44,871,073 
 in 1889. Its bank business, public buildings, school- 
 houses, and street improvements are in accord with 
 this increase, and show solid, vigorous growth. It is 
 altogether an attractive city, whether seen on a drive 
 through its well-planted and bright avenues, or looked 
 down on from the hills which are climbed by the cable 
 roads. A curious social note was the effect of the
 
 136 
 
 OUK ITALY. 
 
 " boom " excitement upon the birth, rate. The report 
 of children under the age of one year was in 1887, 
 271 boy babies and 264 girl babies ; from 1887 to 1888 
 there were only 176 boy babies and 162 girl babies. 
 The return at the end of 1889 was 465 boy babies, and 
 500 girl babies. 
 
 Although Los Angeles County still produces a con- 
 siderable quantity of wine and brandy, I have an im- 
 
 OLIVE-TREES SIX YEARS OLD. 
 
 pression that the raising of raisins will supplant wine- 
 making largely in Southern California, and that the 
 principal wine producing will be in the northern por- 
 tions of the State. It is certain that the best quality is
 
 HOW THE FRUIT PEEILS WERE MET. 137 
 
 grown in the foot-hills. The reputation of " California 
 wines" has been much injured by placing upon the 
 market crude juice that was in no sense wine. Great 
 improvement has been made in the past three to five 
 years, not only in the vine and knowledge of the soil 
 adapted to it, but in the handling and the curing of 
 the wine. One can now find without much difficulty 
 excellent table wines — sound claret, good white Reis- 
 ling, and sauterne. None of these wines are exactly 
 hke the foreign wines, and it may be some time before 
 the taste accustomed to foreign wines is educated to 
 hke them. But in Eastern markets some of the best 
 brands are already much called for, and I think it only 
 a question of time and a httle more experience when 
 the best California ^sdnes will be popular. I found in 
 the San Francisco market excellent red wines at $3.50 
 the case, and what was still more remarkable, at some 
 of the best hotels sound, agreeable claret at from fif- 
 teen to twenty cents the pint bottle. 
 
 It is quite unnecessary to emphasize the attrac- 
 tions of Santa Barbara, or the productiveness of the 
 valleys in the counties of Santa Barbara and Ventura. 
 There is no more poetic region on the continent than 
 the bay south of Point Conception, and the pen and 
 the camera have made the world tolerably familiar 
 with it. There is a graciousness, a softness, a color in 
 the sea, the canons, the mountains there that dwell in 
 the memory. It is capable of inspiring the same love 
 that the Greek colonists felt for the region between 
 the bays of Salerno and Naples. It is as fruitful as 
 the Italian shores, and can support as dense a popida- 
 tion. The figures that have been given as to produc- 
 tiveness and variety of productions apply to it. Hav-
 
 138 OUE ITALY. 
 
 ing more winter rainfall than the counties south of 
 it, agriculture is profitable in most years. Since the 
 railway was made down the valley of the Santa Clara 
 River and along the coast to Santa Barbara, a great 
 impulse has been given to farming. Orange and other 
 fruit orchards have increased. Near Buenaventura I 
 saw hundreds of acres of hma beans. The yield is 
 about one ton to the acre. With good farming the 
 valleys yield crops of com, barley, and wheat much 
 above the average. Still it is a fruit region, and no 
 variety has yet been tried that does not produce very 
 well there. The rapid growth of all trees has enabled 
 the region to demonstrate in a short time that there 
 is scarcely any that it cannot naturalize. The curi- 
 ous growths of tropical lands, the trees of aromatic 
 and medicinal gums, the trees of exquisite fohage and 
 wealth of fragrant blossoms, the sturdy forest natives, 
 and the bearers of edible nuts are all to be found 
 in the gardens and by the road-side, from New Eng- 
 land, from the Southern States, from Europe, from 
 North and South Africa, Southern Asia, China, Japan, 
 from Austraha and New Zealand and South America. 
 The region is an arboreal and botanical garden on an 
 immense scale, and full of surprises. The floriculture 
 is even more astonishing. Every land is represented. 
 The profusion and vigor are as wonderful as the vari- 
 ety. At a flower show in Santa Barbara were exhib- 
 ited 160 varieties of roses all cut from one garden the 
 same morning. The open garden rivals the Eastern 
 conservatory. The country is new and many of the 
 conditions of life may be primitive and rude, but it 
 is impossible that any region shall not be beautiful, 
 clothed with such a profusion of bloom and color.
 
 HOW THE FRUIT PERILS WERE MET. 139 
 
 I have spoken of the rapid growth. The practical 
 advantage of this as to fruit-trees is that one begins to 
 have an income from them here sooner than in the 
 East. No one need be under the delusion that he can 
 hve in California without work, or thrive without in- 
 cessant and intelligent industry, but the distinction of 
 the country for the fruit-grower is the rapidity with 
 which trees and vines mature to the extent of being 
 profitable. But nothing thrives without care, and 
 kindly as the chmate is to the weak, it cannot be too 
 much insisted on that this is no place for confirmed 
 invalids who have not money enough to live ^dthout 
 work.
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 THE ADVANCE OF CULTIVATION SOUTHWARD. 
 
 The immense county of San Diego is on the thresh- 
 old of its development. It has comparatively only 
 spots of cultivation here and there, in an area on 
 the western slope of the county only, that Mr. Van 
 Dyke estimates to contain about one million acres of 
 good arable land for farming and fruit-raising. This 
 mountainous region is full of charming valleys, and 
 hidden among the hills are fruitful nooks capable of 
 sustaining thriving communities. There is no doubt 
 about the salubrity of the climate, and one can hter- 
 ally suit himseK as to temperature by choosing his 
 elevation. The traveller by rail down the wild Temec- 
 ula Canon will have some idea of the picturesqueness 
 of the country, and, as he descends in the broadening 
 valley, of the beautiful mountain parks of live-oak and 
 clear running water, and of the richness both for graz- 
 ing and grain of the ranches of the Santa Margarita, 
 Las Flores, and Santa Rosa. Or if he will see what a 
 few years of vigorous cultivation w^ill do, he may visit 
 Escondido, on the river of that name, which is at an 
 elevation of less than a thousand feet, and fourteen 
 miles from the ocean. This is only one of many set- 
 tlements that have great natural beauty and thrifty 
 industrial Hfe. In that region are numerous attractive 
 villages. I have a report from a little canon, a few
 
 THE ADVANCE OF CULTIVATION SOUTHWARD. l-tl 
 
 SEXTON NURSERIES, NEAR SANTA BARBARA. 
 
 ^^^^^ miles north of Escondido, where a 
 woman with an invahd husband 
 
 settled in 1883. The ground was thick- 
 y/IWI^ ly covered with brush, and its only 
 ^ ^ product was rabbits and quails. In 
 
 1888 they had 100 acres cleared and 
 fenced, mostly devoted to orchard 
 fruits and berries. They had in good 
 bearing over 1200 fruit-trees, among 
 them 200 oranges and 283 figs, which 
 yielded one and a haK tons of figs a week during 
 the. bearing season, from August to November. The 
 sprouts of the peach-trees grew twelve feet in 1889. 
 Of course such a httle fruit farm as this is the result
 
 142 OUE ITALY. 
 
 of seK-denial and hard work, but I am sure that the 
 experiment in this region need not be exceptional. 
 
 San Diego will be to the southern part of the State 
 what San Francisco is to the northern. Nature seems 
 to have arranged for this, by providing a magnificent 
 harbor, when it shut off the southern part by a mount- 
 ain range. During the town -lot lunacy it was said 
 that San Diego could not grow because it had no back 
 country, and the retort was that it needed no back 
 country, its harbor would command commerce. The 
 fallacy of this assumption lay in the forgetfulness of 
 the fact that the profitable and pecuhar exports of 
 Southern California must go East by rail, and reach a 
 market in the shortest possible time, and that the in- 
 habitants look to the Pacific for comparatively httle of 
 the imports they need. If the Isthmus route were 
 opened by a ship -canal, San Diego would doubtless 
 have a great share of the Pacific trade, and when the 
 population of that part of the State is large enough to 
 demand great importations from the islands and lands 
 of the Pacific, this harbor will not go begging. But 
 in its present development the entire Pacific trade of 
 Japan, China, and the islands, gives only a small di^d- 
 dend each to the competing ports. For these develop- 
 ments this fine harbor must wait, but meantime the 
 wealth and prosperity of San Diego lie at its doors. A 
 country as large as the three richest New England 
 States, with enormous wealth of mineral and stone in 
 its mountains, with one of the finest climates in the 
 world, with a million acres of arable land, is certainly 
 capable of building up one great seaport town. These 
 milhon of acres on the western slope of the mountain 
 ranges of the country are geographically tributary to
 
 THE ADVANCE OF CULTIVATION SOUTHWARD. 143 
 
 San Diego, and almost every acre by its products is 
 certain to attain a high vahie. 
 
 The end of the ridiculous speculation in lots of 
 1887-88 was not so disastrous in the loss of money in- 
 vested, or even in the ruin of great expectations by the 
 collapse of fictitious values, as in the stoppage of im- 
 migi'ation. The country has been ever since adjusting 
 itself to a normal growth, and the recovery is just in 
 proportion to the arrival of settlers who come to work 
 and not to speculate. I had heard that the " boom " 
 had left San Diego and vicinity the "deadest" region 
 to be found anywhere. A speculator would probably 
 so regard it. But the people have had a great acces- 
 sion of common-sense. The expectation of attracting 
 settlers by a fictitious show has subsided, and atten- 
 tion is directed to the development of the natural 
 riches of the country. Since the boom San Diego has 
 perfected a splendid system of drainage, paved its 
 streets, extended its railways, built up the business 
 part of the town solidly and handsomely, and greatly 
 improved the mesa above the town. In all essentials 
 of permanent growth it is much better in appearance 
 than in 1887. Business is better organized, and, best of 
 all, there is an intelhgent appreciation of the agricult- 
 ural resources of the country. It is discovered that 
 San Diego has a "back country" capable of producing 
 great wealth. The Chamber of Commerce has organ- 
 ized a permanent exhibition of products. It is as- 
 sisted in this work of stimulation by competition by a 
 "Ladies' Annex," a society numbering some five hun- 
 dred ladies, who devote themselves not to aesthetic 
 pursuits, but to the quickening of all the industries of 
 the farm and the garden, and all public improvements.
 
 iU 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 To the mere traveller who devotes only a couple of 
 weeks to an examination of this region it is evident 
 that the spirit of industry is in the ascendant, and the 
 result is a most gratifying increase in orchards and 
 vineyards, and the storage and distribution of water 
 for irrigation. The region is unsurpassed for the pro- 
 duction of the orange, the lemon, the raisin-grape, the 
 fig, and the ohve. The great reservoir of the Cuy- 
 amaca, which supplies San Diego, sends its flume 
 around the fertile valley of El Cajon (which has 
 already a great reputation for its raisins), and this has 
 
 become a garden, the 
 land rising in value 
 every year. The re- 
 gion of National City 
 and Chula Vista is 
 supphed by the res- 
 ervoir made by the 
 great Sweetwater 
 
 Dam — a marvel of engineering skill — and is not only 
 most productive in fruit, but is attractive by pretty 
 
 
 SWEETWATER DAM.
 
 THE ADVANCE OF CULTIVATION SOUTHWARD. 145 
 
 villas and most sightly and agreeable homes. It is an 
 unanswerable reply to the inquiry if this region was 
 not killed by the boom that all the arable land, except 
 that staked out foi' fancy city prices, has steadily risen 
 in value. This is true of all the bay region down 
 through Otay (where a promising watch factory is es- 
 tabhshed) to the border at Tia Juana. The rate of set- 
 tlement in the county outside of the cities and towns 
 has been greater since the boom than before — a most 
 healthful indication for the future. According to the 
 school census of 1889, Mr. Van Dyke estimates a per- 
 manent growth of nearly 50,000 people in the county 
 in four years. Half of these are well distributed in 
 small settlements which have the advantages of roads, 
 mails, and school -houses, and which offer to settlers 
 who wish to work adjacent unimproved land at prices 
 which experience shows are still moderate. 
 10
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A LAOT) OF AGREEABLE HOIVIES. 
 
 In this imperfect conspectus of a vast territory I 
 should be sorry to say anything that can raise false 
 expectations. Our country is very big; and though 
 scarcely any part of it has not some advantages, and 
 notwithstanding the census figures of our population, 
 it will be a long time before our vast territory will fill 
 up. California must wait with the rest ; but it seems 
 to me to have a great future. Its position in the 
 Union with regard to its peculiar productions is unique. 
 It can and will supply us with much that we now im- 
 port, and labor and capital sooner or later will find 
 their profit in meeting the growing demand for Cah- 
 fornia products. 
 
 There are many people in the United States who 
 could prolong life by moving to Southern California ; 
 there are many who would find hf e easier there by rea- 
 son of the climate, and because out-door labor is more 
 agreeable there the year through ; many who have to 
 fight the weather and a niggardly soil for existence 
 could there have pretty little homes with less expense 
 of money and labor. It is well that people for whom 
 this is true should know it. It need not influence 
 those who are already weU placed to try the fortune 
 of a distant country and new associations. 
 
 I need not emphasize, the disadvantage in regard to
 
 A LAND OF AGREEABLE HOMES. 147 
 
 beauty of a land that can for half the year only keep 
 a vernal appearance by uTigation ; but to eyes accus- 
 tomed to it there is something pleasing in the con- 
 trast of the green valleys with, the brown and gold and 
 red of the hills. The picture in my mind for the fut- 
 ure of the Land of the Sun, of the mountains, of the 
 sea — which is only an enlargement of the pictm^e of 
 the present — is one of great beauty. The rapid growth 
 of fruit and ornamental trees and the profusion of flow- 
 ers render easy the making of a lovely home, however 
 humble it may be. The nature of the industries — re- 
 quiring careful attention to a small piece of ground — 
 points to small holdings as a rule. The picture I see 
 is of a land of small farms and gardens, highly culti- 
 vated, in all the valleys and on the foot-hills ; a land, 
 therefore, of luxuriance and great productiveness and 
 agreeable homes. I see everywhere the gardens, the 
 vineyards, the orchards, with the various gi'eens of the 
 olive, the fig, and the orange. It is always picturesque, 
 because the country is broken and even rugged ; it is 
 always interesting, because of the contrast with the 
 mountains and the desert ; it has the color that makes 
 Southern Italy so poetic. It is the fairest field for the 
 experiment of a contented community, without any 
 poverty and without excessive wealth.
 
 CHAPTER XY. 
 
 SOME WONDERS BY THE WAY. — YOSEMITE. — ^MARIPOSA 
 TREES. — MONTEREY. 
 
 I WENT to it with reluctance. I shrink from at- 
 tempting to say anything about it. If you knew that 
 there was one spot on the earth where Nature kept her 
 secret of secrets, the key to the action of her most 
 gigantic and patient forces through the long eras, the 
 marvel of constructive and destructive energy, in feat- 
 ures of subhmity made possible to mental endurance 
 by the most exquisite devices of painting and sculpt- 
 ure, the wonder which is without parallel or compari- 
 son, would you not hesitate to approach if? Would 
 you not wander and delay mth this and that wonder, 
 and this and that beauty and nobility of scenery, put- 
 ting off the day when the imagination, which is our 
 highest gift, must be extinguished by the reality? 
 The mind has this judicious timidity. Do we not 
 loiter in the avenue of the temple, dall^dng with the 
 vista of giant plane-trees and statues, and noting the 
 carving and the color, mentally shrinking from the 
 moment when the full glory shall burst upon us? 
 We turn and look when we are near a summit, we 
 pick a flower, we note the shape of the clouds, the 
 passing breeze, before we take the last step that shall 
 reveal to us the vast panorama of mountains and 
 valleys.
 
 SOME WONDEKS BY THE WAY. 149 
 
 I cannot bring myself to any description of the 
 Grand Canon of the Colorado by any other route, 
 mental or physical, than that by which we reached 
 it, by the way of such beauty as Monterey, such a 
 wonder as the Yosemite, and the infinite and pictu- 
 resque deserts of New Mexico and Arizona. I think 
 the mind needs the training in the desert scenery to 
 enable it to gi'asp the unique sublimity of the Grand 
 Canon. 
 
 The road to the Yosemite, after leaving the branch 
 of the Southern Pacific at Raymond, is an unnecessa- 
 rily fatiguing one. The journey by stage — sixty -five 
 miles — is accomphshed in less than two days — thirty- 
 nine miles the first day, and twenty -six the second. 
 The driving is necessarily slow, because two mountain 
 ridges have to be surmounted, at an elevation each of 
 about 6500 feet. The road is not a " road " at all as 
 the term is understood in Switzerland, Spain, or in 
 any highly civilized region — that is, a graded, smooth, 
 hard, and sufficiently broad track. It is a makeshift 
 highway, generally narrow (often too narrow for two 
 teams to pass), cast up with loose material, or exca- 
 vated on the slopes with frequent short curves and 
 double curves. Like all mountain roads which skirt 
 precipices, it may seem "pokerish," but it is safe 
 enough if the drivers are skilful and careful (all the 
 drivers on this route are not only excellent, but ex- 
 ceedingly civil as well), and there is no break in wag- 
 on or harness. At the season this trip is made the 
 weather is apt to be warm, but this would not matter 
 so much if the road were not intolerably dusty. Over 
 a great part of the way the dust rises in clouds and 
 is stifling. On a well -engineered road, with a good
 
 150 OUR ITALY. 
 
 road-bed, the time of passage migM not be shortened, 
 but the journey would be made with positive comfort 
 and enjoyment, for though there is a certain monot- 
 ony in the scenery, there is the wild freshness of nat- 
 ure, now and then an extensive prospect, a sight of 
 the snow -clad Nevadas, and vast stretches of wood- 
 land; and a part of the way the forests are magnifi- 
 cent, especially the stupendous growth of the sugar- 
 pine. These noble forests are now protected by their 
 inaccessibility. 
 
 From 1855 to 1864, nine years, the Yosemite had 
 653 visitors; in 1864 there were 147. The number 
 increased steadily till 1869, the year the overland rail- 
 road was completed, when it jumped to 1122. Be- 
 tween 4000 and 5000 persons visit it now each year. 
 The number would be enormously increased if it could 
 be reached by rail, and doubtless a road will be built 
 to the valley in the near future, perhaps up the 
 Merced River. I beheve that the pilgrims who used 
 to go to the Yosemite on foot or on horseback regret 
 the building of the stage road, the enjoyment of the 
 wonderful valley being somehow cheapened by the 
 comparative ease of reaching it. It is feared that a 
 railway would still further cheapen, if it did not vul- 
 garize it, and that passengers by train would miss the 
 mountain scenery, the splendid forests, the surprises 
 of the way (hke the first view of the valley from 
 Inspiration Point), and that the Mariposa big trees 
 would be farther off the route than they are now. 
 The traveller sees them now by diiving eight miles 
 from Wawona, the end of the first day's staging. But 
 the romance for the few there is in staging will have 
 to give way to the greater comfort of the many by
 
 THE YOSEMITE DOME.
 
 SOME WONDERS BY THE WAY. 153 
 
 rail. The railway will do no more injury to the Yo- 
 semite than it has done to Niagara, and, in fact, will 
 be the means of immensely increasing the comfort of 
 the visitor's stay there, besides enabhng tens of thou- 
 sands of people to see it who cannot stand the fatigue 
 of the stage ride over the present road. The Yosemite 
 will remain as it is. The simphcity of its grand feat- 
 ures is unassailable so long as the Government pro- 
 tects the forests that smTound it and the streams that 
 pour into it. The visitor who goes there by rail will 
 find plenty of adventure for days and weeks in follow- 
 ing the mountain trails, ascending to the great points 
 of view, exploring the canons, or climbing so as to 
 command the vast stretch of the snowy Sierras. Or, 
 if he is not inchned to adventure, the valley itself will 
 satisfy his highest imaginative flights of the subhme 
 in rock masses and perpendicular ledges, and his sense 
 of beauty in the graceful water-falls, rainbow colors, 
 and exquisite lines of domes and pinnacles. It is in 
 the grouping of objects of subhmity and beauty that 
 the Yosemite excels. The narrow valley, with its 
 gigantic walls, which vary in every change of the 
 point of view, lends itself to the most astonishing 
 scenic effects, and these the photograph has repro- 
 duced, so that the world is familiar with the striking 
 features of the valley, and has a tolerably correct idea 
 of the sublimity of some of these features. Wliat the 
 photograph cannot do is to give an impression of the 
 unique grouping, of the majesty, and at times crush- 
 ing weight upon the mind of the forms and masses, 
 of the atmospheric splendor and illusion, and of the 
 total value of such an assemblage of wonders. The 
 level surface of the peaceful, park-like valley has much
 
 154 OUE ITALY. 
 
 to do with the impression. The effect of El Capitan, 
 seen across a meadow and rising from a beautiful 
 park, is much greater than if it were encountered in 
 a savage mountain gorge. The traveller may have 
 seen elsewhere greater water -falls, and domes and 
 spires of rock as surprising, but he has nowhere else 
 seen such a combination as this. He may be fortified 
 against surprise by the photographs he has seen and 
 the reports of word painters, but he will not escape 
 (say, at Inspiration Point, or Artist Point, or other 
 lookouts), a quickening of the pulse and an elation 
 which is physical as well as mental, in the sight of 
 such unexpected subhmity and beauty. And famil- 
 iarity will scarcely take off the edge of his delight, so 
 varied are the effects in the passing hours and chang- 
 ing hghts. The Rainbow Fall, when water is abun- 
 dant, is exceedingly impressive as well as beautiful. 
 Seen from the carriage road, pouring out of the sky 
 overhead, it gives a sense of power, and at the proper 
 hour before sunset, when the vast mass of leaping, 
 foaming water is shot through with the colors of the 
 spectrum, it is one of the most exquisite sights the 
 world can offer; the elemental forces are overwhelm- 
 ing, but the lovehness is engaging. One turns from 
 this to the noble mass of El Capitan with a shock of 
 surprise, however often it may have been seen. This 
 is the hour also, in the time of high -water, to see 
 the reflection of the Yosemite Falls. As a spectacle 
 it is infinitely finer than anything at Mirror Lake, 
 and is unique in its way. To behold this beautiful 
 series of falls, flowing down out of the blue sky above, 
 and flowing up out of an equally blue sky in the 
 depths of the earth, is a sight not to be forgotten.
 
 SOME WONDERS BY THE WAY. 155 
 
 And when the observer passes from these displays to 
 the sight of the aerial domes in the upper end of the 
 valley, new wonders opening at every turn of the for- 
 est road, his excitement has little chance of subsiding : 
 he may be even a httle oppressed. The valley, so ver- 
 
 COAST OF MONTEREY. 
 
 dant and friendly with grass and trees and flowers, is 
 so narrow compared with the height of its perpendic- 
 ular guardian walls, and this httle secluded spot is so 
 imprisoned in the gigantic mountains, that man has a 
 feeling of helplessness in it. This powerlessness in 
 the presence of elemental forces was heightened by 
 the deluge of water. There had been an immense fall 
 of snow the winter before, the Merced was a raging 
 torrent, overflowing its banks, and from every ledge 
 poured a miniature cataract. 
 
 Noble simplicity is the key-note to the scenery of 
 the Yosemite, and this is enhanced by the park -like 
 appearance of the floor of the valley. The stems of 
 the fine trees are in harmony with the perpendicular 
 lines, and their fohage adds the necessary contrast to 
 the gray rock masses. In order to preserve these for-
 
 156 
 
 OUB ITALY. 
 
 est -trees, the iinderbrusli, which is Hable to make a 
 conflagration in a dry season, should be removed gen- 
 erally, and the view of the gi*eat features be left unim- 
 peded. The minor canons and the trails are, of course, 
 left as much as possible to the riot of vegetation. The 
 State Commission, which labors under the disadvan- 
 tages of getting its supphes from a Legislature that 
 does not appreciate the value of the Yosemite to Cah- 
 fornia, has developed the trails judiciously, and estab- 
 lished a model trail service. The Yosemite, it need 
 not be said, is a great attraction to tourists from all 
 parts of the world; it is the interest of the State, 
 therefore, to increase their number by improving the 
 
 CYPRESS POINT. 
 
 facilities for reaching it, and by resolutely preserving 
 all the surrounding region from ravage. 
 
 This is as true of the Mariposa big tree region as 
 of the valley. Indeed, more care is needed for the
 
 SOSIE WONDERS BY THE WAY. 157 
 
 trees than for the great chasm, for man cannot per- 
 manently injure the distinctive features of the latter, 
 while the destruction of the sequoias will be an irrepa- 
 rable loss to the State and to the world. The Sequoia 
 gigantea differs in leaf, and size and shape of cone, from 
 
 NEAR SEAL ROCK. 
 
 the great Sequoia semper virens on the coast near Santa 
 Cruz ; neither can be spared. The Mariposa trees, scat- 
 tered along on a mountain ridge 6500 feet above the 
 sea, do not easily obtain their victory, for they are a 
 part of a magnificent forest of other growths, among 
 which the noble sugar -pine is conspicuous for its 
 enormous size and graceful vigor. The sequoias dom- 
 inate among splendid rivals ouly by a magnitude that 
 has no comparison elsewhere in the world. I think 
 no one can anticipate the effect that one of these mon- 
 archs will have upon him. He has read that a coach 
 and six can drive through one of the trees that is
 
 158 OUE ITALY. 
 
 standing; that another is thirty- three feet in diam- 
 eter, and that its vast stem, 350 feet high, is crowned 
 with a mass of fohage that seems to brush against 
 the sky. He might be prepared for a tower 100 feet in 
 circumference, and even 400 feet high, standing upon 
 a level plain ; but this living growth is quite another 
 affair. Each tree is an individual, and has a personal 
 character. No man can stand in the presence of one 
 of these giants without a new sense of the age of the 
 world and the insignificant span of one human hfe; 
 but he is also overpowered by a sense of some gigantic 
 personality. It does not reheve him to think of this 
 as the Methuselah of trees, or to call it by the name 
 of some great poet or captain. The awe the tree in- 
 spires is of itself. As one hes and looks up at the 
 enormous bulk, it seems not so much the bulk, so 
 lightly is it carried, as the spirit of the tree — the 
 elastic vigor, the patience, the endurance of storm 
 and change, the confident might, and the soaring, al- 
 most contemptuous pride, that overwhelm the puny 
 spectator. It is just because man can measure him- 
 self, his httleness, his brevity of existence, with this 
 growth out of the earth, that he is more personally 
 impressed by it than he might be by the mere vari- 
 ation in the contour of the globe which is called a 
 mountain. The imagination makes a plausible effort 
 to comprehend it, and is foiled. No ; clearly it is not 
 mere size that impresses one; it is the dignity, the 
 character in the tree, the authority and power of an- 
 tiquity. Side by side of these venerable forms are 
 young sequoias, great trees themselves, that have only 
 just begun their millennial career — trees that wiU, if 
 spared, perpetuate to remote ages this race of giants,
 
 SO^NIE WONDERS BY THE WAY. IGl 
 
 and in two to four thousand years from now take the 
 place of their great-grandfathers, who are sinking un- 
 der the weight of years, and one by one measuring 
 their length on the earth. 
 
 The transition from the subhme to the exquisitely 
 lovely in nature can nowhere else be made with more 
 celerity than from the Sierras to the coast at Monte- 
 rey; California abounds in such contrasts and sur- 
 prises. After the great stirring of the emotions by the 
 Yosemite and the Mariposa, the Hotel del Monte Park 
 and vicinity offer repose, and make an appeal to the 
 sense of beauty and refinement. Yet even here some- 
 thing unique is again encountered. I do not refer to 
 the extraordinary beauty of the giant live-oaks and 
 the landscape-gardening about the hotel, which have 
 made Monterey famous the world over, but to the sea- 
 beach drive of sixteen miles, which can scarcely be 
 rivalled elsewhere either for marine loveliness or vari- 
 ety of coast scenery. It has points like the ocean 
 drive at Newport, but is altogether on a grander scale, 
 and show^s a more poetic union of shore and sea ; be- 
 sides, it offers the curious and fascinating spectacles 
 of the rocks inhabited by the sea -lions, and the Cy- 
 press Point. These huge, uncouth creatures can be 
 seen elsewhere, but probably nowhere else on this 
 coast are they massed in greater numbers. The trees 
 of Cypress Point are unique, this species of cypress 
 having been found nowhere else. The long, never- 
 ceasing swtII of the Pacific incessantly flows up the 
 many crescent sand beaches, casting up shells of brill- 
 iant hues, sea-w^eed, and kelp, which seems instinct 
 with animal life, and flotsam from the far-off islands. 
 But the rocks that he off the shore, and the jagged 
 
 11
 
 162 OUR ITALY. 
 
 points that project in fanciful forms, break the even 
 great swell, and send the waters, churned into spray 
 and foam, into the air with a thousand hues in the 
 sun. The shock of these sharp collisions mingles 
 with the heavy ocean boom. Cypress Point is one 
 of the most conspicuous of these projections, and its 
 strange trees creep out upon the ragged ledges almost 
 to the water's edge. These cypresses are quite as in- 
 stinct with indi\ddual hfe and quite as fantastic as 
 any that Dore drew for his " Inferno." They are as 
 gnarled and twisted as ohve- trees two centuries old, 
 but their attitudes seem not only to show struggle 
 with the elements, but agony in that struggle. The 
 agony may be that of torture in the tempest, or of 
 some fabled creatures fleeing and pursued, stretching 
 out their long arms in terror, and fixed in that ^^ith- 
 ing fear. They are creatures of the sea quite as much 
 as of the land, and they give to this lovely coast a 
 strange charm and fascination.
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. — THE LAGUNA PUEBLO. 
 
 The traveller to California by the Santa Fe route 
 comes into the arid regions gradually, and finds each 
 day a variety of objects of interest that upsets his 
 conception of a monotonous desert land. If he chooses 
 to break the continental journey midway, he can turn 
 aside at Las Yegas to the Hot Springs. Here, at the 
 head of a picturesque valley, is the Montezuma Ho- 
 tel, a luxurious and handsome house, 6767 feet above 
 sea-level, a great surprise in the midst of the broken 
 and somewhat savage New Mexican scenery. The 
 low hills covered with pines and pihons, the romantic 
 glens, and the wide views from the elevations about 
 the hotel, make it an attractive place ; and a great 
 deal has been done, in the erection of bath-houses, 
 ornamental gardening, and the grading of roads and 
 walks, to make it a comfortable place. The latitude 
 and the dryness of the atmosphere insure for the trav- 
 eller from the North in our winter an agreeable recep- 
 tion, and the elevation makes the spot in the summer 
 a desirable resort from Southern heat. It is a sanita- 
 rium as well as a pleasure resort. The Hot Springs 
 have much the same character as the Tophtz waters in 
 Bohemia, and the saturated earth — the Mutterlager — 
 furnishes the curative "mud baths" which are enjoyed 
 at Marienbad and Carlsbad. The union of the climate,
 
 164 
 
 OUE ITALY. 
 
 which is so favorable in diseases of the respiratory 
 organs, with the waters, which do so much for rheu- 
 matic sufferers, gives a distinction to Las Yegas Hot 
 Springs. This New Mexican air — there is none purer 
 on the globe — is an enemy to hay-fever and malarial 
 diseases. It was a wise enterprise 
 to provide that those who wish to 
 try its efficacy can 
 do so at the Monte- , "^%^ 
 
 zuma without giv- ^\f^^ ^ 
 
 
 CHURCH AT LAGUNA. 
 
 ing up any of the com- 
 forts of civihzed life. 
 It is difficult to 
 explain to one who 
 has not seen it, or will 
 not put himself in 
 the leisurely frame of 
 mind to enjoy it, the charms of the desert of the high 
 plateaus of New Mexico and Arizona. Its arid charac- 
 ter is not so impressive as its ancientness; and the part 
 which interests us is not only the procession of the 
 long geologic eras, \dsible in the extinct volcanoes, the
 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. 165 
 
 barrancas, the painted buttes, the petrified forests, hut 
 as well iu the evidences of civilizations gone hy, or the 
 remains of them surviving in our day — the cliff dwell- 
 ings, the ruins of cities that were thriving when Co- 
 ronado sent his lieutenants through the region three 
 centuries ago, and the present residences of the Pue- 
 blo Indians, either villages perched upon an almost in- 
 accessible rock like Acamo, or clusters of adobe dwell- 
 ings like Isleta and Laguna. The Pueblo Indians, of 
 whom the Zuhis are a tribe, have been dwellers in vil- 
 lages and cultivators of the soil and of the arts of 
 peace immemorially, a gentle, amiable race. It is in- 
 deed such a race as one would expect to find in the 
 land of the sun and the cactus. Their manners and 
 their arts attest their antiquity and a long refinement 
 in fixed dwelhngs and occupations. The whole region 
 is a most interesting field for the antiquarian. 
 
 We stopped one day at Laguna, which is on the 
 Santa Fe line west of Isleta, another Indian pueblo 
 at the Atlantic and Pacific junction, where the road 
 crosses the Rio Grande del Norte west of Albuquer- 
 que. Near Laguna a little stream called the Rio Puer- 
 co flows southward and joins the Rio Grande. There 
 is verdure along these streams, and gardens and fruit 
 orchards repay the rude irrigation. In spite of these 
 watercourses the aspect of the landscape is wild and 
 desert-like — low barren hills and ragged ledges, wide 
 sweeps of sand and dry gray bushes, with mountains 
 and long lines of horizontal ledges in the distance. 
 Laguna is built upon a rounded elevation of rock. 
 Its appearance is exactly that of a Syi'ian callage, the 
 same cluster of little, square, flat-roofed houses in ter- 
 races, the same broT\ai color, and under the same pale
 
 166 OUK ITALY. 
 
 blue sky. And the resemblance was completed by the 
 figures of the women on the roofs, or moving down 
 the slope, erect and supple, carrying on the head a 
 water jar, and holding together by one hand the man- 
 tle worn hke a Spanish rebozo. The village is irregu- 
 larly built, without much regard to streets or alleys, 
 and it has no special side of entrance or approach. 
 Every side presents a blank wall of adobe, and the en- 
 trance seems quite by chance. Yet the way we went 
 over, the smooth slope was worn here and there in 
 channels three or four inches deep, as if by the pass- 
 ing feet of many generations. The only semblance of 
 architectural regularity is in the plaza, not perfectly 
 square, upon which some of the houses look, and 
 where the annual dances take place. The houses 
 have the effect of being built in terraces rising one 
 above the other, but it is hard to say exactly what a 
 house is — whether it is anything more than one room. 
 You can reach some of the houses only by aid of a 
 ladder. You enter others from the street. If you will 
 go farther you must chmb a ladder which brings you 
 to the roof that is used as the sitting-room or door- 
 yard of the next room. From tliis room you may still 
 ascend to others, or you may pass through low and 
 small door-ways to other apartments. It is all hap- 
 hazard, but exceedingly picturesque. You may find 
 some of the family in every room, or they may be 
 gathered, women and babies, on a roof which is pro- 
 tected by a parapet. At the time of our \dsit the men 
 were all away at work in their fields. Notwithstand- 
 ing the houses are only sun-dried bricks, and the vil- 
 lage is without water or street commissioners, I was 
 struck by the universal cleanliness. There was no ref-
 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. 
 
 167 
 
 TERRACED HOUSES, PUEBLO OF LAG UNA. 
 
 use in the corners or alleys, no odors, and many of the 
 rooms were patterns of neatness. To be sure, an old 
 woman here and there kept her hens in an adjoining 
 apartment above her own, and there was the litter of 
 children and of rather careless house - keeping. But, 
 taken altogether, the town is an example for some
 
 168 OUR ITALY. 
 
 more civilized, whose inhabitants wash oftener and 
 dress better than these Indians. 
 
 We were put on friendly terms with the whole 
 settlement through three or four young maidens who 
 had been at the Carlisle school, and spoke English 
 very prettily. They were of the ages of fifteen and 
 sixteen, and some of them had been five years away. 
 They came back, so far as I could learn, gladly to their 
 own people and to the old ways. They had resumed 
 the Indian dress, which is much more becoming to 
 them, as I think they know, than that which had 
 been imposed upon them. I saw no books. They do 
 not read any now, and they appear to be perfectly 
 content with the idle drudgery of their semi - savage 
 condition. In time they will marry in their tribe, and 
 the school episode will be a thing of the past. But 
 not altogether. The pretty Josephine, who was our 
 best cicerone about the place, a girl of lovely eyes and 
 modest mien, showed us with pride her own room, or 
 " house," as she called it, neat as could be, simply fur- 
 nished with an iron bedstead and snow - white cot, a 
 mirror, chair, and table, and a trunk, and some " ad- 
 vertising " prints on the walls. She said that she was 
 needed at home to cook for her aged mother, and her 
 present ambition was to make money enough by the 
 sale of pottery and curios to buy a cooking stove, so 
 that she could cook more as the whites do. The 
 house-work of the family had mainly fallen upon her ; 
 but it was not burdensome, I fancied, and she and the 
 other girls of her age had leisure to go to the station 
 on the arrival of every train, in hope of selhng some- 
 thing to the passengers, and to sit on the rocks in the 
 sun and dream as maidens do. I fancy it would be
 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. 169 
 
 better for Josephine and for all the rest if there were 
 no station and no passing trains. The elder women 
 were nnifoi'mly ugly, but not repulsive like the Mo- 
 javes; the place swarmed with children, and the ba- 
 bies, aged women, and pleasing young girls grouped 
 most effectively on the roofs. 
 
 The whole community were very complaisant and 
 friendly when we came to know them well, which we 
 did in the course of an hour, and they enjoyed as 
 much as we did the bargaining for pottery. They 
 have for sale a great quantity of small pieces, fantastic 
 in form and brilliantly colored — toys, in fact ; but we 
 found in their houses many beautiful jars of large size 
 and excellent shape, decorated most effectively. The 
 ordinary utensils for cooking and for cooling water 
 are generally pretty in design and painted artistically. 
 Like the ancient Peruvians, they make many vessels 
 in the forms of beasts and birds. Some of the designs 
 of the decoration are highly conventionalized, and 
 others are just in the proper artistic line of the natu- 
 ral — a spray with a bird, or a sunflower on its stalk. 
 The ware is all unglazed, exceedingly light and thin, 
 and baked so hard that it has a metalhc sound when 
 struck. Some of the large jars are classic in shape, 
 and recall in form and decoration the ancient Cypriote 
 ware, but the colors are commonly brilliant and bar- 
 baric. The designs seem to be indigenous, and to be- 
 tray little Spanish influence. The art displayed in 
 this pottery is indeed wonderful, and, to my eye, much 
 more effective and lastingly pleasing than much of 
 our cultivated decoration. A couple of handsome jars 
 that I bought of an old woman, she assured me she 
 made and decorated herself ; but I saw no ovens there.
 
 170 OUE ITALY. 
 
 nor any signs of manufacture, and suppose that most 
 of the ware is made at Acoma. 
 
 It did not seem to be a very rehgious community, 
 although the town has a Cathohc church, and I un- 
 derstand that Protestant services are sometimes held 
 in the place. The church is not much frequented, 
 and the only evidence of devotion I encountered was 
 in a woman who wore a large and handsome silver 
 cross, made by the Navajos. When I asked its price, 
 she clasped it to her bosom, with an upward look full 
 of faith and of refusal to part with her religion at any 
 price. The church, which is adobe, and at least two 
 centuries old, is one of the most interesting I have 
 seen anywhere. It is a simple parallelogram, 104 feet 
 long and 21 feet broad, the gable having an opening 
 in which the bells hang. The interior is exceedingly 
 curious, and its decorations are worth reproduction. 
 The floor is of earth, and many of the tribe who were 
 distinguished and died long ago are said to repose 
 under its smooth surface, with nothing to mark their 
 place of sepulture. It has an open timber roof, the 
 beams supported upon carved corbels. The ceiling is 
 made of wooden sticks, about two inches in diameter 
 and some four feet long, painted in alternated colors — 
 red, blue, orange, and black — and so twisted or woven 
 together as to produce the effect of plaited straw, a 
 most novel and agreeable decoration. Over the en- 
 trance is a small gallery, the under roof of which is 
 composed of sticks laid in straw pattern and colored. 
 All around the wall runs a most striking dado, an odd, 
 angular pattern, with conventionalized birds at inter- 
 vals, painted in strong yet fade colors — red, yellow, 
 black, and white. The north wall is without win-
 
 til 

 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. 173 
 
 dows; all the light, when the door is closed, comes 
 from two irregular windows, mtliout glass, high up in 
 the south wall. The chancel walls are covered with 
 frescos, and there are several quaint paintings, some 
 of them not very bad in color and drawing. The 
 altar, which is supported at the sides by twisted 
 wooden pillars, carved with a knife, is hung with an- 
 cient sheepskins brightly painted. Back of the altar 
 are some archaic wooden images, colored ; and over 
 the altar, on the ceihng, are the stars of heaven, and 
 the sun and the moon, each with a face in it. The in- 
 terior was scrupulously clean and sweet and restful to 
 one coming in from the glare of the sun on the desert. 
 It was evidently little used, and the Indians who ac- 
 companied us seemed under no strong impression of 
 its sanctity ; but we liked to Unger in it, it was so 
 bizarre, so picturesque, and exhibited in its rude deco- 
 ration so much taste. Two or three small birds flit- 
 ting about seemed to enjoy the coolness and the sub- 
 dued light, and were undisturbed by our presence. 
 
 These are children of the desert, kin in their condi- 
 tion and the influences that formed them to the sed- 
 entary tribes of upper Egypt and Ai'abia, who pitch 
 their villages upon the rocky eminences, and depend 
 for subsistence upon irrigation and scant pasturage. 
 Their habits are those of the dwellers in an arid land 
 which has little in common with the wilderness — the 
 inhospitable northern wilderness of rain and frost and 
 snow. Rain, to be sure, insures some sort of vegeta- 
 tion in the most forbidding and intractable country, 
 but that does not save the harsh landscape from being 
 unattractive. The high plateaus of New Mexico and 
 Arizona have everything that the rainy wilderness
 
 174 
 
 OUR ITALY. 
 
 INTEBIOR OF THE CHURCH AT LAGUNA. 
 
 lacks — sunshine, heaven's own an% hnmense breadth 
 of horizon, color and infinite beauty of outline, and a 
 warm soil with unlimited possibilities when moistened. 
 All that these deserts need is water. A fatal want? 
 No. That is simply saying that science can do for 
 this region what it cannot do for the high wilderness 
 of frost — ^by the transportation of water transform it
 
 FASCINATIONS OF THE DESERT. 175 
 
 into gardens of bloom and fields of fruitfulness. The 
 wilderness shall be made to feed the desert. 
 
 I confess that these deserts in the warm latitudes 
 fascinate me. Perhaps it is because I perceive in 
 them such a chance for the triumph of the skill of 
 man, seeing how, here and there, his energy has pushed 
 the desert out of his path across the continent. But 
 I fear that I am not so practical. To many the des- 
 ert in its stony sterility, its desolateness, its unbroken 
 solitude, its fantastic savageness, is either appalling or 
 repulsive. To them it is tiresome and monotonous. 
 The vast plains of Kansas and Nebraska are monot- 
 onous even in the agricultural green of summer. Not 
 so to me the desert. It is as changeable in its hgnts 
 and colors as the ocean. It is even in its general feat- 
 ures of sameness never long the same. If you trav- 
 erse it on foot or on horseback, there is ever some mi- 
 nor novelty. And on the swift train, if you draw down 
 the curtain against the glare, or turn to your book, 
 you are sure to miss something of interest — a deep 
 canon rift in the plain, a turn that gives a wide view 
 glowing in a hundred hues in the sun, a savage gorge 
 with beetling rocks, a solitary butte or red truncated 
 pyramid thrust up into the blue sky, a horizontal ledge 
 cutting the horizon line as straight as a ruler for miles, 
 a pointed cliff uplifted sheer from the plain and laid in 
 regular courses of Cyclopean masonry, the battlements 
 of a fort, a terraced castle with towers and esplanade, 
 a great trough of a valley, gray and parched, enclosed 
 by far purple mountains. And then the unlimited 
 freedom of it, its infinite expansion, its air like wine 
 to the senses, the floods of sunshine, the waves of 
 color, the translucent atmosphere that aids the im-
 
 176 OUR ITALY. 
 
 agination to create in the distance all architectural 
 splendors and realms of peace. It is all like a mirage 
 and a dream. We pass swiftly, and make a moving 
 panorama of beauty in hues, of strangeness in forms, 
 of sublimity in extent, of overawing and savage antiq- 
 uity. I would miss none of it. And when we pass to 
 the accustomed again, to the fields of verdure and the 
 forests and the hills of green, and are limited in view 
 and shut in by that which we love, after all, better 
 than the arid land, I have a great longing to see again 
 the desert, to be a part of its vastness, and to feel 
 once more the freedom and inspiration of its illimita- 
 ble horizons.
 
 CHAPTER XYir. 
 THE HEAKT OF THE DESERT. 
 
 There is an arid region lying in Northern Arizona 
 and Southern Utah which has been called the Dis- 
 trict of the Grand Canon of the Colorado. The area, 
 roughly estimated, contains from 13,000 to 16,000 
 square miles — about the size of the State of Marj'land. 
 This region, fully described by the explorers and stud- 
 ied by the geologists in the United States service, but 
 little known to even the travelhng public, is probably 
 the most interesting temtory of its size on the globe. 
 At least it is unique. In attempting to convey an idea 
 of it the writer can be assisted by no comj^arison, nor 
 can he appeal in the minds of his readers to any expe- 
 rience of scenery that can apply here. The so-called 
 Grand Canon differs not in degree from all other 
 scenes ; it differs in kind. 
 
 The Colorado Riv^r flows southward through Utah, 
 and crosses the Arizona line below the junction T^ith 
 the San Juan. It continues southward, flowing deep 
 in what is called the Marble Canon, till it is joined by 
 the Little Colorado, coming up from the south-east ; it 
 then turns westward in a de\'ious line until it drops 
 straight south, and forms the western boundary of 
 Arizona. The centre of the district mentioned is the 
 westwardly flowing part of the Colorado. South of 
 the river is the Colorado Plateau, at a general eleva- 
 
 12
 
 178 OUE ITALY. 
 
 tion of about 7000 feet. North, of it the land is high- 
 er, and ascends in a series of plateaus, and then ter- 
 races, a succession of cliffs like a great stair- way, rising 
 to the high plateaus of Utah. The plateaus, adjoining 
 the river on the north and well marked by north and 
 south dividing lines, or faults, are, naming them from 
 east to west, the Paria, the Kaibab, the Kanab, the 
 Uinkaret, and the Sheavwitz, terminating in a great 
 wall on the west, the Great Wash fault, where the 
 surface of the coinitry drops at once from a general 
 elevation of 6000 feet to from 1300 to 3000 feet above 
 the sea-level — into a desolate and formidable desert. 
 
 If the Grand Canon itself did not dwarf everything 
 else, the scenery of these plateaus would be superla- 
 tive in interest. It is not all desert, nor are the 
 gorges, canons, cliffs, and terraces, which gradually 
 prepare the mind for the comprehension of the Grand 
 Canon, the only wonders of this land of enchantment. 
 These are contrasted with the sylvan scenery of the 
 Kaibab Plateau, its giant forests and parks, and broad 
 meadows decked in the summer with wild flowers in 
 dense masses of scarlet, wliite, purple, and yellow. 
 The Vermilion Chffs, the Pink Cliffs, the White Chffs, 
 surpass in fantastic form and brilliant color anything 
 that the imagination conceives possible in nature, and 
 there are dreamy landscapes quite beyond the most 
 exquisite fancies of Claude and of Turner. The re- 
 gion is full of wonders, of beauties, and sublimities 
 that Shelley's imaginings do not match in the " Pro- 
 metheus Unbound," and when it becomes accessible to 
 the toui'ist it will offer an endless field for the delight 
 of those whose minds can rise to the heights of the 
 sublime and the beautiful. In all imaginative writing
 
 THE HEART OF THE DESERT. ISl 
 
 or painting the material used is that of luiman expe- 
 rience, otherwise it could not be understood; even 
 heaven must be described in the terms of an earthly 
 paradise. Human experience has no prototype of this 
 region, and the imagination has never conceived of its 
 forms and colors. It is impossible to convey an ade- 
 quate idea of it by pen or pencil or brush. The 
 reader who is famihar with the glowing descriptions 
 in the official reports of Major J. W. Powell, Captain 
 C. E. Dutton, Lieutenant Ives, and others, will not 
 save himself fi'om a shock of sm'prise when the reality 
 is before him. This paper deals only with a single 
 view in this marvellous region. 
 
 The point where we struck the Grand Cafion, ap- 
 proaching it from the south, is opposite the promon- 
 tory in the Kaibab Plateau named Point Sublime by 
 Major Powell, just north of the 36th i:>arallel, and 112° 
 15' west longitude. This is only a few miles west of 
 the junction with the Little Colorado. About three 
 or four miles west of this junction the river enters the 
 east slope of the east Kaibab monocline, and here the 
 Grrand Canon begins. Rapidly the chasm deepens to 
 about 6000 feet, or rather it penetrates a higher coun- 
 try, the slope of the river remaining about the same. 
 Through this lofty plateau — an elevation of 7000 to 
 9000 feet — the chasm extends for sixty miles, gradu- 
 ally changing its course to the north-west, and enter- 
 ing the Kanab Plateau. The Kaibab division of the 
 Grand Caiion is by far the sublimest of all, being 1000 
 feet deeper than any other. It is not grander only 
 on account of its greater depth, but it is broader 
 and more diversified with magnificent architectural 
 features.
 
 182 OUK ITALY. 
 
 The Kanab division, only less magnificent than the 
 Kaibab, receives the Kanab Caiion from the north and 
 the Cataract Canon from the south, and ends at the 
 Toroweap Yalley. 
 
 The section of the Grand Caiion seen by those 
 who take the route from Peach Springs is between 
 113° and 114° west longitude, and, though wonderful, 
 presents few of the great features of either the Kaibab 
 or the Kanab divisions. The Grand Canon ends, west 
 longitude 114°, at the Great Wash, west of the Huni- 
 cane Ledge or Fault. Its whole length from Little 
 Colorado to the Great Wash, measured by the mean- 
 derings of the surface of the river, is 220 miles ; by a 
 median line between the crests of the summits of the 
 walls with two - mile cords, about 195 miles ; the dis- 
 tance in a straight line is 125 miles. 
 
 In our journey to the Grand Caiion we left the 
 Santa Fe line at Flagstaff, a new town with a hvely 
 lumber industry, in the midst of a spruce -pine forest 
 which occupies the broken country through which the 
 X'oad passes for over fifty miles. The forest is open, 
 the trees of moderate size are too thickly set with low- 
 growing limbs to make clean lumber, and the foli- 
 age furnishes the minimum of shade ; but the change 
 to these woods is a welcome one from the treeless 
 reaches of the desert on either side. The canon is 
 also reached from Williams, the next station west, the 
 distance being a little shorter, and the point on the 
 canon visited being usually a little farther west. But 
 the Flagstaff route is for many reasons usually pre- 
 ferred. Flagstaff lies just south-east of the San Fran- 
 cisco Mountain, and on the great Colorado Plateau, 
 which has a pretty uniform elevation of about 7000
 
 THE HEART OF THE DESERT. 
 
 183 
 
 feet above the sea. The whole region is full of in- 
 terest. Some of the most remarkable cliff dweUings 
 are within ten miles of Flagstaff, on the Walnut Creek 
 
 ^;«« 
 
 TOUKISTS IN THE COLORADO CANON. 
 
 Canon. At Hol- 
 brook, 100 miles 
 east, the traveller 
 finds a road some 
 forty miles long, 
 that leads to the 
 great petrified forest, or Chalcedony Park. Still far- 
 ther east are the villages of the Pueblo Indians, near 
 the hne, while to the northward is the great reserva- 
 tion of the Navajos, a nomadic tribe celebrated for 
 its fine blankets and pretty work in silver — a tribe
 
 184: OUE ITALY. 
 
 that preserves mucli of its manly independence by 
 shunning the charity of the United States. No Ind- 
 ians have come into intimate or dependent relations 
 with the whites without being deteriorated. 
 
 Flagstaff is the best present point of departure, be- 
 cause it has a small hotel, good supply stores, and a 
 large livery-stable, made necessary by the business of 
 the place and the objects of interest in the neighbor- 
 hood, and because one reaches from there by the easi- 
 est road the finest scenery incomparably on the Colo- 
 rado. The distance is seventy -six miles through a 
 practically uninhabited country, much of it a desert, 
 and with water very infrequent. No work has been 
 done on the road ; it is made simply by driving over 
 it. There are a few miles here and there of fair wheel- 
 ing, but a good deal of it is intolerably dusty or ex- 
 ceedingly stony, and progress is slow. In the daytime 
 (it was the last of June) the heat is apt to be exces- 
 sive ; but this could be borne, the air is so absolutely 
 dry and delicious, and breezes, occasionally spring up, 
 if it were not for the dust. It is, notwithstanding the 
 novelty of the adventure and of the scenery by the 
 way, a tiresome journey of two days. A day of rest is 
 absolutely required at the canon, so that five days 
 must be allowed for the trip. This will cost the trav- 
 eller, according to the size of the party made up, from 
 forty to fifty dollars. But a much longer sojourn at 
 the canon is desirable. 
 
 Our party of seven was stowed in and on an old 
 Concord coach drawn by six horses, and piled with 
 camp equipage, bedding, and provisions. A four-horse 
 team followed, loaded with other supphes and cooking 
 utensils. The road hes on the east side of the San
 
 THE HEART OF THE DESEKT. 185 
 
 Francisco Mountain. Returning, we passed around its 
 west side, gaining thus a complete view of this shapely 
 peak. The compact range is a group of extinct volca- 
 noes, the craters of which are distinctly visible. The 
 cup-like summit of the highest is 13,000 feet above 
 the sea, and snow always lies on the north escarpment. 
 Rising about 6000 feet above the point of view of the 
 great plateau, it is from all sides a noble object, the 
 dark * rock, snow - sprinkled, rising out of the dense 
 growth of pine and cedar. We drove at tirst through 
 open pine forests, through park -like intervals, over 
 the foot-hills of the mountain, through growths of 
 scrub cedar, and out into the ever -varying rolling 
 country to widely-extended prospects. Two consider- 
 able hills on our right attracted us by their unique 
 beautj^. Upon the summit and side of each was a red 
 glow exactly like the tint of sunset. We thought 
 surely that it was the effect of reflected light, but the 
 sky was cloudless and the color remained constant. 
 The color came from the soil. The first was called 
 Sunset Mountain. One of our party named the other, 
 and the more beautiful, Peachblow Mountain, a poetic 
 and perfectly descriptive name. 
 
 We lunched at noon beside a swift, clouded, cold 
 stream of snow-water from the San Francisco, along 
 which grew a few gnarled cedars and some brilliant 
 wild flowers. The scene was more than picturesque ; 
 in the clear hot air of the desert the distant landscape 
 made a hundred pictures of beauty. Behind us the 
 dark form of San Francisco rose up 6000 feet to its 
 black crater and fields of spotless snow. Away off to 
 the north-east, beyond the brown and gray pastures, 
 across a far hue distinct in dull color, lay the Painted
 
 ISG OUK ITALY. 
 
 Desert, like a mirage, like a really painted landscape, 
 iilowini;' in red and ovaniie and pink, an innnense city 
 rather than a, landscape, witli towers and terraces and 
 t'a(;ades, melting into indistinctness as in a rosy mist, 
 spectral but constant, weltering in a tropic glow and 
 heat, walls and cohunns and shafts, the wreck of an 
 Orimital capital on a wide violet i)lain, suffused with 
 brilhant color softened into exquisite shades. All over 
 this region nature has such surprises, that laugh at 
 oiu" inadequate conception of lier resources. 
 
 Our camp for the night Avas at tlie next place 
 where water could be obtained, a station of the Ari- 
 zona Cattle Company. Abundant water is piped down 
 to it from mountain springs. The log-house and sta- 
 ble of the cow-boys were imoccupied, and we pitched 
 our tent on a knoll by the corral. Tlie night was ab- 
 solutely dry, and sparkling with the starhght. A part 
 of the company spread their blankets on the ground 
 under the sky. It is apt to be cold in this region 
 towards morning, but lodging in the open air is no 
 hardship in this delicious climate. The next day the 
 way j)art of the distance, with only a road marked 
 by wagon wheels, was through extensive and barren- 
 looking cattle ranges, through pretty vales of grass 
 surrounded by stunted cedars, and over stormy ridges 
 and plains of sand and small bowlders. The water 
 having failed at Red Horse, the only place where it is 
 usually found in the day's march, our horses went 
 without, and we liad resource to our canteens. The 
 whole country is essentially arid, but snow falls in the 
 winter-time, and its melting, with occasional showers 
 in the summer, create what are called surface wells, 
 made by drainage. Many of them go dry by June.
 
 THE HEMIT or THE DESERT. 187 
 
 There had been no rain in the region since the last of 
 March, but clouds were gathering daily, and showers 
 are always expected in July. The phenomenon of 
 rain on this baked surface, in this hot air, and with 
 this immense horizon, is very interesting. Showers in 
 this tentative time are local. In our journey we saw 
 showers far off, we experienced a dash for ten min- 
 utes, but it was local, covering not more than a mile or 
 two square. We have in sight a vast canoj^y of blue 
 sky, of forming and dispersing clouds. It is difficult 
 for them to drop their moisture in the rising columns 
 of hot air. The result at times was a very curious 
 spectacle — rain in the sky that cUd not reach the 
 earth. Perhaps some cold current high above us 
 would condense the moisture, which would begin to 
 fall in long trailing sweeps, blown like fine folds of 
 mushn, or like sheets of dissoMng sugar, and then the 
 hot air of the earth would dissipate it, and the showers 
 would be absorbed in the upper regions. The heat 
 was sometimes intense, but at intervals a refreshing 
 wind would blow, the air being as fickle as the rain ; 
 and now and then we would see a slender column of 
 dust, a thousand or two feet high, marching across the 
 desert, apparently not more than two feet in diameter, 
 and wavering like the threads of moisture that tried in 
 vain to reach the earth as rain. Of hfe there was not 
 much to be seen in our desert route. In the first day 
 we encountered no habitation except the ranch-house 
 mentioned, and saw no human being ; and the second 
 day none except the sohtary occupant of the dried 
 well at Red Horse, and two or three Indians on the 
 hunt. A few squirrels were seen, and a rabbit now 
 and then, and occasionally a bird. The general im-
 
 188 OUR ITALY. 
 
 pression was that of a deserted land. But antelope 
 abound in the timber regions, and we saw several of 
 these graceful creatures quite near us. Excellent an- 
 telope steaks, bought of the wandering Indian hunters, 
 added something to our "canned" supplies. One day 
 as we lunched, without water, on the cedar slope of a 
 lovely grass interval, we saw coming towards us over 
 the swells of the prairie a figure of a man on a horse. 
 It rode to us straight as the crow flies. The Indian 
 pony stopped not two feet from where our group sat, 
 and the rider, who was an Oualapai chief, clad in sack- 
 ing, with the print of the brand of flour or salt on his 
 back, dismounted with his Winchester rifle, and stood 
 silently looking at us without a word of salutation. 
 He stood there, impassive, until we offered him some- 
 thing to eat. Having eaten all we gave him, he open- 
 ed his mouth and said, " Smoke 'em f Having pro- 
 cured from the other wagon a pipe of tobacco and 
 a pull at the driver's canteen, he returned to us all 
 smiles. His only baggage was the skull of an ante- 
 lope, with the horns, hung at his saddle. Into this -he 
 put the bread and meat which we gave him, mounted 
 the wretched pony, and without a word rode straight 
 away. At a little distance he halted, dismounted, and 
 motioned towards the edge of the timber, where he 
 had spied an antelope. But the game eluded him, and 
 he mounted again and rode off across the desert — a 
 strange figure. His tribe lives in the caiion some fifty 
 miles west, and was at present encamped, for the pur- 
 pose of hunting, in the pine woods not far from the 
 point we were aiming at.
 
 CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 ON THE BRINK OF THE GRAND CANON. — THE UNIQUE 
 MARVEL OF NATURE. 
 
 The way seemed long. With the heat and dust 
 and slow progress, it was exceedingly wearisome. Our 
 modern nerves are not attuned to the slow crawling 
 of a prairie-wagon. There had been growing for some 
 time in the coach a feeling that the journey did not 
 pay ; that, in fact, no mere scenery could compensate 
 for the fatigue of the trip. The imagination did not 
 rise to it. " It will have to be a very big canon," 
 said the duchess. 
 
 Late in the afternoon we entered an open pine 
 forest, passed through a meadow where the Indians 
 had set their camp by a shallow pond, and drove along 
 a ridge, in the cool shades, for three or four miles. 
 Suddenly, on the edge of a descent, we who were on 
 the box saw through the tree-tojDs a vision that stop- 
 ped the pulse for a second, and filled us with excite- 
 ment. It was only a glimpse, far off and apparently 
 lifted up — red towers, purple cliffs, wide -spread apart, 
 hints of color and splendor; on the right distance, 
 mansions, gold and white and carmine (so the light 
 made them), architectural habitations in the sky it 
 must be, and suggestions of others far off in the mid- 
 dle distance — a substantial aerial city, or the mins of 
 one, such as the prophet saw in a vision. It was only
 
 190 OUE ITALY. 
 
 a glimpse. Our hearts were in our mouths. We had 
 a vague impression of something wonderful, fearful 
 — some incomparable splendor that was not earthly. 
 Were we drawing near the " City f and should we 
 have yet a more. perfect view thereof? Was it Jeru- 
 salem or some Hindoo temples there in the sky? "It 
 was huilded of pearls and precious stones, also the 
 streets were paved with gold; so that by reason of 
 the natural glory of the city, and the reflection of the 
 sunbeams upon it. Christian with desire fell sick." It 
 was a momentary vision of a vast amphitheatre of 
 splendor, mostly hidden by the trees and the edge of 
 the plateau. 
 
 We descended into a hollow. There was the well, 
 a log-cabin, a tent or two under the pine-trees. We 
 dismounted with impatient haste. The sun was low 
 in the horizon, and had long withdrawn from this 
 grassy dell. Tired as we were, we could not wait. It 
 was only to ascend the little steep, stony slope — 300 
 yards — and we should see ! Our party were straggling 
 up the hill : two or three had reached the edge. I 
 looked up. The duchess threw up her arms and 
 screamed. We were not fifteen paces behind, but we 
 saw nothing. We took the few steps, and the whole 
 magnificence broke upon us. No one could be pre- 
 pared for it. The scene is one to strike dumb with 
 awe, or to unstring the nerves ; one might stand in 
 silent astonishment, another would burst into tears. 
 
 There are some experiences that cannot be repeat- 
 ed — one's first view of Rome, one's first view of Jeru- 
 salem. But these emotions are produced by associ- 
 ation, by the sudden standing face to face with the 
 scenes most wrought into our whole life and educa-
 
 GRAND CASON OF THE COLOKADO — VIKW KKOM THE HANSE TRAIL.
 
 ON THE BRINK OF THE GRAND CANON. 193 
 
 tion by tradition and religion. This was witliout as- 
 sociation, as it was witliout parallel. It was a shock 
 so novel that the mind, dazed, quite failed to compre- 
 hend it. All that we could grasp was a vast confu- 
 sion of amphitheatres and strange architectural forms 
 resplendent with color. The vastness of the view 
 amazed us quite as much as its transcendent beauty. 
 
 We had expected a canon — two lines of perpen- 
 dicular walls 6000 feet high, with the ribbon of a river 
 at the bottom ; but the reader may dismiss all his no- 
 tions of a caiion, indeed of any sort of mountain or 
 gorge scenery with which he is familiar. We had come 
 into a new world. What we saw was not a canon, or 
 a chasm, or a gorge, but a vast area which is a break 
 in the j)lateau. From where we stood it was twelve 
 miles across to the opposite walls — a level line of 
 mesa on the Utah side. We looked up and down for 
 twenty to thirty miles. This great space is filled with 
 gigantic architectural constructions, with amphithea- 
 tres, gorges, precipices, walls of masomy, fortresses 
 terraced up to the level of the eye, temples mountain 
 size, all brilliant with horizontal lines of color — streaks 
 of solid hues a few feet in width, streaks a thousand 
 feet in width — yellows, mingled white and gray, orange, 
 dull red, brown, blue, carmine, green, all blending in 
 the sunlight into one transcendent suffusion of sj^len- 
 dor. Afar off we saw the river in two places, a mere 
 thread, as motionless and smooth as a strip of mirror, 
 only we knew it was a turbid, boiling torrent, GOOO 
 feet below us. Directly opposite the overhanging 
 ledge on which we stood was a mountain, the sloping 
 base of which was ashy gray and bluish ; it rose in a 
 series of terraces to a thousand -feet wall of dark red 
 
 13
 
 194 OUE ITALY. 
 
 sandstone, receding npward, with ranges of columns 
 and many fantastic sculptures, to a finial row of gigan- 
 tic opera-glasses 6000 feet above the river. The great 
 San Francisco Mountain, with its snowy crater, which 
 we had passed on the way, might have been set down 
 in the place of this one, and it would have been only 
 one in a multitude of such forms that met the eye 
 whichever way we looked. Indeed, all the vast mount- 
 ains in this region might be hidden in this canon. 
 
 Wandering a little away from the group and out of 
 sight, and turning suddenly to the scene from another 
 point of view, I experienced for a moment an inde- 
 scribable terror of nature, a confusion of mind, a fear 
 to be alone in such a presence. With all this gro- 
 tesqueness and majesty of form and radiance of color, 
 creation seemed in a whirl. With our education in 
 scenery of a totally different kind, I suppose it would 
 need long acquaintance with this to familiarize one 
 with it to the extent of perfect mental comprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 The vast abyss has an atmosphere of its own, one 
 always changing and producing new effects, an at- 
 mosphere and shadows and tones of its own^— golden, 
 rosy, gray, brilliant, and sombre, and playing a thou- 
 sand fantastic tricks to the vision. The rich and won- 
 derful color effects, says Captain Button, " are due to 
 the inherent colors of the rocks, modified by the at- 
 mosphere. Like any other great series of strata in the 
 plateau province, the carboniferous has its own range 
 of colors, which might serve to distinguish it, even if 
 we had no other criterion. The summit strata are 
 pale gray, with a faint yellowish cast. Beneath them 
 the cross-bedded sandstone appears, showing a mottled
 
 ON THE BKINK OF THE GRAND CANON. 195 
 
 surface of pale pinkish hue. Underneath this member 
 are nearly 1000 feet of the lower Aubrey sandstones, 
 displaying an intensely brilliant red, which is some- 
 what marked by the talus shot dowai from the gray 
 cherty limestone at the summit. Beneath the lower 
 Aubrey is the face of the Red Wall limestone, from 
 2000 to 3000 feet high. It has a strong red tone, but 
 a very peculiar one. Most of the red strata of the 
 West have the bro^\Tiish or vermilion tones, but these 
 are rather purplish red, as if the pigment had been 
 treated to a dash of blue. It is not quite certain that 
 this may not arise in part from the intervention of 
 the blue haze, and probably it is rendered more con- 
 spicuous by this cause ; but, on the whole, the pur- 
 plish cast seems to be inherent. This is the domi- 
 nant color of the canon, for the expanse of the rock 
 surface displayed is more than half in the Red Wall 
 group." 
 
 I was continually hkening this to a vast city rather 
 than a landscape, but it was a city of no man's cre- 
 ation nor of any man's conception. In the visions 
 which inspired or crazy painters have had of the New 
 Jerusalem, of Babylon the Great, of a heaven in the 
 atmosphere, with endless perspective of towers and 
 steeps that hang in the tmlight sky, the imagination 
 has tried to reach this reality. But here are effects 
 beyond the artist, forms the architect has not hinted 
 at ; and yet everything reminds us of man's work. 
 And the explorers have tried by the use of Oriental 
 nomenclature to bring it within our comprehension, 
 the East being the land of the imagination. Tliere 
 is the Hindoo Amphitheatre, the Bright Angel Am- 
 phitheatre, the Ottoman Amphitheatre, Shiva's Tem-
 
 196 OUE ITALY. 
 
 pie, Yishim's Temple, Yulcan's Throne. And here, in- 
 deed, is the idea of the pagoda architecture, of the 
 terrace architecture, of the bizarre constructions which 
 rise with projecting buttresses, rows of pillars, recess- 
 es, battlements, esplanades, and low walls, hanging gar- 
 dens, and truncated pinnacles. It is a city, but a city 
 of the imagination. In many pages I could tell what 
 I saw in one day's lounging for a mile or so along the 
 edge of the precipice. The view changed at every 
 step, and was never half an hour the same in one 
 place. Nor did it need much fancy to create illusions 
 or pictures of unearthly beauty. There was a castle, 
 terraced up with columns, plain enough, and below it 
 a parade-ground ; at any moment the knights in armor 
 and with banners might emerge from the red gates 
 and deploy there, while the ladies looked down from 
 the balconies. But there were many castles and for- 
 tresses and barracks and noble mansions. And the 
 rich sculpture in this brilliant color! In time I be- 
 gan to see queer details : a Richardson house, with 
 low portals and round arches, surmounted by a Nu- 
 remberg gable ; perfect panels, 600 feet high, for the 
 setting of pictures ; a train of cars partly derailed at 
 the door of a long, low warehouse, with a garden in 
 front of it. There was no end to such devices. 
 
 It was long before I could comi^rehend the vast- 
 ness of the view, see the enormous chasms and rents 
 and seams, and the many architectm-al ranges sepa- 
 rated by great gulfs, between me and the wall of the 
 mesa twelve miles distant. Away to the north-east 
 was the blue Navajo Mountain, the lone peak in the 
 horizon ; but on the southern side of it lay a desert 
 level, which in the afternoon hght took on the exact
 
 ON THE BEINK OF THE GEAND CANON. 197 
 
 appearance of a blue lake ; its edge this side was a 
 wall thousands of feet high, many miles in length, 
 and straightly horizontal; over this seemed to fall 
 water. I could see the foam of it at the foot of the 
 cliff ; and below that was a lake of shimmering silver, 
 in which the giant precipice and the fall and their 
 color were mirrored. Of course there was no silver 
 lake, and the reflection that simulated it was only 
 the sun on the lower part of the immense wall. 
 
 Some one said that all that was needed to perfect 
 this scene was a Niagara Falls. I thought what figure 
 a fall 150 feet high and 3000 long would make in this 
 arena. It would need a spy-glass to discover it. An 
 adequate Niagara here should be at least three miles 
 in breadth, and fall 2000 feet over one of these walls. 
 And the Yosemite — ah ! the lovely Yosemite ! Dump- 
 ed down into this wilderness of gorges and mountains, 
 it would take a guide who knew of its existence a 
 long time to find it. 
 
 The process of creation is here laid bare through 
 the geologic periods. The strata of rock, deposited 
 or upheaved, preserve their horizontal and parallel 
 courses. If we imagine a river flowing on a plain, it 
 would wear for itself a deeper and deeper channel. 
 The walls of this channel would recede irregularly by 
 weathering and by the coming in of other streams. 
 The channel would go on deepening, and the outer 
 walls would again recede. If the rocks were of dif- 
 ferent material and degrees of hardness, the forms 
 would be carved in the fantastic and architectural 
 manner we find them here. The Colorado flows 
 through the tortuous inner chasm, and where we see 
 it, it is 6000 feet below the surface where we stand,
 
 198 OUE ITALY. 
 
 and below the towers of the terraced forms nearer it. 
 The splendid views of the canon at this point given 
 in Captain Button's report are from Point Sublime, 
 on the north side. There seems to have been no 
 way of reaching the river fi'om that point. From the 
 south side the descent, though wearisome, is feasible. 
 It reverses mountaineering to descend 6000 feet for a 
 view, and there is a certain pleasure in standing on a 
 mountain summit without the trouble of climbing it. 
 Hance, the guide, who has charge of the well, has 
 made a path to the bottom. The route is seven miles 
 long. Half-way down he has a house by a spring. 
 At the bottom, somewhere in those depths, is a sort 
 of farm, grass capable of sustaining horses and cattle, 
 and ground where fruit-trees can grow. Horses are 
 actually living there, and parties descend there with 
 tents, and camp for days at a time. It is a world of 
 its own. Some of the photographic views presented 
 here, all inadequate, are taken from points on Hance's 
 trail. But no camera or pen can convey an adequate 
 conception of what Captain Button happily calls a 
 great innovation in the modern ideas of scenery. To 
 the eye educated to any other, it may be shocking, 
 grotesque, incomprehensible ; but " those who have 
 long and carefully studied the Grand Caiion of the 
 Colorado do not hesitate for a moment to pronounce 
 it by far the most subhme of all earthly spectacles." 
 
 I have space only to refer to the geologic history 
 in Captain Button's report of 1882, of which there 
 should be a popular edition. The waters of the At- 
 lantic once overflowed this region, and were separated 
 from the Pacific, if at all, only by a ridge. The story 
 is of long eras of deposits, of removal, of upheaval,
 
 ON THE BRINK OF THE GRAND CANON. 199 
 
 and of volcanic action. It is estimated that in one 
 period the thickness of strata removed and trans- 
 ported away was 10,000 feet. Long after the Colo- 
 rado began its work of corrosion there was a mighty 
 upheaval. The reader will find the story of the mak- 
 ing of the Grrand Canon more fascinating than any 
 romance. 
 
 Without knowing this story the impression that 
 one has in looking on this scene is that of immense 
 antiquity, hardly anywhere else on earth so over- 
 w^helming as here. It has been here in all its lonely 
 grandeur and transcendent beauty, exactly as it is, for 
 w^hat to us is an eternity, unknown, unseen by human 
 eye. To the recent Indian, w^ho roved along its brink 
 or descended to its recesses, it was not strange, be- 
 cause he had known no other than the plateau scen- 
 ery. It is only within a quarter of a century that the 
 Grand Caiion has been known to the civilized world. 
 It is scarcely known now. It is a world largely unex- 
 plored. Those who best know it are most sensitive to 
 its awe and splendor. It is never twice the same, for, 
 as I said, it has an atmosphere of its own. I was 
 told by Hance that he once saw a thunder-storm in 
 it. He described the chaos of clouds in the pit, the 
 roar of the tempest, the reverberations of thunder, the 
 inconceivable splendor of the rainbows mingled with 
 the colors of the towers and terraces. It was as if 
 the world were breaking up. He fled away to his hut 
 in terror. 
 
 The day is near when this scenery must be made 
 accessible. A railway can easily be built from Flag- 
 staff. The projected road from Utah, crossing the 
 Colorado at Lee's Ferry, would come within twenty
 
 200 OUE ITALY. 
 
 miles of tlie Grand Canon, and a branch to it could 
 be built. The region is arid, and in the "sight-seeing" 
 part of the year the few surface wells and springs are 
 likely to go dry. The greatest difficulty would be in 
 procuring water for railway service or for such houses 
 of entertainment as are necessary. It could, no doubt, 
 be piped from the San Francisco Mountain. At any 
 rate, ingenuity will overcome the difficulties, and trav- 
 ellers from the wide world will flock thither, for there 
 is revealed the long -kept secret, the unique achieve- 
 ment of nature.
 
 APPENDIX 
 
 A CLIMATE FOK INVALIDS. 
 
 The following notes on the climate of Southern California, 
 written by Dr. H, A. Johnson, of Chicago, at the solicitation of 
 the writer of this volume and for his information, I print with 
 his permission, because the testimony of a physician w4io has 
 made a special study of climatology in Europe and America, and 
 is a recognized authority, belongs of right to the public : 
 
 The choice of a climate for invalids or semi-invalids involves the con- 
 sideration of : First, the invalid, his physical condition (that is, disease), 
 his peculiarities (mental and emotional), his social habits, and his natural 
 and artificial needs. Second, the elements of climate, such as temperature, 
 moisture, direction and force of winds, the averages of the elements, the 
 extremes of variation, and the rapidity of change. 
 
 The climates of the western and south-western portions of the United 
 States are well suited to a variety of morbid conditions, especially those 
 pertaining to the pulmonary organs and the nervous system. Very few 
 localities, however, are equally well adapted to diseases of innervation of 
 circulation and respiration. For the first and second, as a rule, high alti- 
 tudes are not advisable ; for the third, altitudes of from two thousand to six 
 thousand feet are not only admissible but by many thought to be desira- 
 ble. It seems, however, probable that it is to the dryness of the air and 
 the general antagonisms to vegetable growths, rather than to altitude alone, 
 that the benefits derived in these regions by persons suffering from con- 
 sumption and kindred diseases should be credited. 
 
 Proximity to large bodies of water, river valleys, and damp plateaus 
 are undesirable as places of residence for invalids with lung troubles. 
 There are exceptions to this rule. Localities near the sea with a climate
 
 202 APPENDIX. 
 
 subject to slight variations in temperature, a dry atmosphere, little rainfall, 
 much sunshine, not so cold in winter as to prevent much out-door life and 
 not so hot in summer as to make out-door exercise exhausting, are well 
 adapted not only to troubles of the nervous and circulatory systems, but 
 also to those of the respiratory organs. 
 
 Such a climate is found in the extreme southern portions of California. 
 At San Diego the rainfall is much less, the air is drier, and the number of 
 sunshiny days very much larger than on our Atlantic seaboard, or in Cen- 
 tral and Northern California. The winters are not cold ; flowers bloom in 
 the open air all the year round ; the summers are not hot. The mountains 
 and sea combine to give to this region a climate with few sudden changes, 
 and with a comfortable range of all essential elements. 
 
 A residence during a part of the winter of 1889-90 at Coronado Beach, 
 and a somewhat careful study of the comparative climatology of the south- 
 western portions of the United States, leads me to think that we have few 
 localities where the comforts of life can be secured, and which at the same 
 time are so well adapted to the needs of a variety of invalids., as San Diego 
 and its surroundings. In saying this T do not wish to be understood as 
 preferring it to all others for some one condition or disease, but only that 
 for weak hearts, disabled lungs, and worn-out nerves it seems to me to be 
 unsurpassed. 
 
 Chicago, July 12, 1890. 
 
 THE COMING OF WINTER IN SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA. 
 
 From Mr. Theodore S. Yan Dyke's altogether admirable book 
 on Southeni California I have permission to quote the following 
 exquisite description of the floral procession from December to 
 March, when the Land of the Sun is awakened by the first winter 
 rain : 
 
 Sometimes this season commences with a fair rain in November, after 
 a light shower or two in October, but some of the very best seasons begin 
 about the time that all begin to lose hope. November adds its full tribute 
 to the stream of sunshine that for months has poured along the land ; and, 
 perhaps, December closes the long file of cloudless days with banners of 
 blue and gold. The plains and slopes lie bare and brown ; the low hills 
 that break away from them are yellow with dead foxtail or wild oats, gray 
 with mustard-stalks, or ashy green with chemisal or sage. Even the chap- 
 arral, that robes the higher hills in living green, has a tired air, and the
 
 APPENDIX. 203 
 
 long timber-line that marks the canon winding up the mountain-slopes is 
 decidedly paler. The sea-breeze has fallen off to a faint breath of air ; the 
 land lies silent and dreamy with golden haze ; the air grows drier, the sun 
 hotter, and the shade cooler ; the smoke of brush-fires hangs at times along 
 the sky ; the water has risen in the springs and sloughs as if to meet the 
 coming rain, but it has never looked less like rain than it now does. 
 
 Suddenly a new wind arises from the vast watery plains upon the 
 south-west ; long, fleecy streams of cloud reach out along the sky •, the 
 distant monntain-tops seem swimming in a film of haze, and the great Cal- 
 ifornia weather prophet — a creature upon whom the storms of adverse ex- 
 perience have beaten for years without making even a weather crack in the 
 smooth cheek of his conceit — lavishes his wisdom as confidently as if he 
 had never made a false prediction. After a large amount of fuss, and 
 enough preliminary skirmishing over the sky for a dozen storms in any 
 Eastern State, the clouds at last get ready, and a soft pattering is heard 
 upon the roof — the sweetest music that ever cheers a Californian ear, and 
 one which the author of " The Rain upon the Roof " should have heard 
 before writing his poem. 
 
 When the sun again appears it is with a softer, milder beam than be- 
 fore. The land looks bright and refreshed, like a tired and dirty boy who 
 has had a good bath and a nap, and already the lately bare plains and hill- 
 sides show a greenish tinge. Fine little leaves of various kinds are spring- 
 ing from the ground, but nearly all are lost in a general profusion of dark 
 green ones, of such shape and delicacy of texture that a careless eye might 
 readily take them for ferns. This is the alfileria, the prevailing flower of 
 the land. The rain may continue at intervals. Daily the land grows 
 greener, while the shades of green, varied by the play of sunlight on the 
 slopes and rolling hills, increase in number and intensity. Here the color 
 is soft, and there bright ; yonder it rolls in wavy alternations, and yonder 
 it reaches in an unbroken shade where the plain sweeps broad and free. 
 For many weeks green is the only color, though cold nights may perhaps 
 tinge it with a rusty red. About the first of February a little starlike 
 flower of bluish pink begins to shine along the ground. This is the bloom 
 of the alfileria, and swiftly it spreads from the southern slopes, where it 
 begins, and runs from meadow to hill-top.- Soon after a cream-colored 
 bell-flower begins to nod from a tall, slender stalk ; another of sky-blue 
 soon opens beside it ; beneath these a little five-petaled flower of deep 
 pink tries to outshine the blossoms of the alfileria ; and above them soon 
 stands the radiant shooting-star, with reflexed petals of white, yellow, and 
 pink shining behind its purplish ovaries. On every side violets, here of
 
 204 APPENDIX. 
 
 the purest golden hue and overpowering fragrance, appear in numbers be- 
 yond all conception. And soon six or seven varieties of clover, all with 
 fine, delicate leaves, unfold flowers of yellow, red, and pink. Delicate little 
 crucifers of white and yellow shine modestly below all these ; little cream- 
 colored flowers on slender scapes look skyward on every side ; while oth- 
 ers of purer white, with every variety of petal, crowd up among them. 
 Standing now upon some hill-side that commands miles of landscape, one 
 is dazzled, with a blaze of color, from acres and acres of pink, great fields 
 of violets, vast reaches of blue, endless sweeps of white. 
 
 Upon this — merely the warp of the carpet about to cover the land — 
 the sun fast weaves a woof of splendor. Along the soiithern slopes of the 
 lower hills soon beams the orange light of the poppy, which swiftly kin- 
 dles the adjacent slopes, then flames along the meadow, and blazes upon 
 the northern hill-sides. Spires of green, mounting on every side, soon 
 open upon the top into lilies of deep lavender, and the scarlet bracts of 
 the painted-cup glow side by side with the crimson of the cardinal-flower. 
 And soon comes the iris, with its broad golden eye fringed with rays of 
 lavender blue ; and five varieties of phacelia overwhelm some places with 
 waves of purple, blue, indigo, and whitish pink. The evening primrose 
 covers the lower slopes with long sheets of brightest yellow, and from the 
 hills above the rock-rose adds its golden bloom to that of the sorrel and 
 the wild alfalfa, until the hills almost outshine the bright light from the 
 slopes and plains. And through all this nods a tulip of most delicate lav- 
 ender; vetches, lupins, and all the members of the wild-pea family are 
 pushing and winding their way everywhere in every shade of crimson, 
 purple, and white ; along the ground crowfoot weaves a mantle of white, 
 through which, amid a thousand comrades, the orthocarpus rears its tufted 
 head of pink. Among all these are mixed a thousand other flowers, plen- 
 ty enough as plenty would be accounted in other countries, but here mere 
 pin-points on a great map of colors. 
 
 As the stranger gazes upon this carpet that now covers hill and dale, 
 undulates over the table-lands, and robes even the mountain with a brill- 
 iancy and breadth of color that strikes the eye from miles away, he ex- 
 hausts his vocabulary of superlatives, and goes away imagining he has 
 seen it all. Yet he has seen only the background of an embroidery more 
 varied, more curious and splendid, than the carpet upon which it is WTOught. 
 Asters bright with centre of gold and lavender rays soon shine high above 
 the iris, and a new and larger tulip of deepest yellow nods where its lav- 
 ender cousin is drooping its lately proud head. New bell-flowers of white 
 and blue and indigo rise above the first, which served merely as ushers to
 
 APPENDIX. 205 
 
 the display, and whole acres ablaze with the orange of the poppy are fast 
 turning with the indigo of the larkspur. "Where the ground was lately 
 aglow with the marigold and the four-o'clock the tall penstemon now reaches 
 out a hundred arms full-hung with trumpets of purple and pink. Here the 
 silene rears high its head with fringed corolla of scarlet; and there the 
 wild gooseberry dazzles the eye with a perfect shower of tubular flowers 
 of the same bright color. The mimulus alone is almost enough to color 
 the hills. Half a dozen varieties, some with long, narrow, trumpet-shaped 
 flowers, others with broad flaring mouths ; some of them tall herbs, and 
 others large shrubs, with varying shades of dark red, light red, orange, 
 cream-color, and yellow, spangle hill-side, rock-pile, and ravine. Among 
 them the morning-glory twines with flowers of purest white, new lupins 
 climb over the old ones, and the trailing vetch festoons rock and shrub 
 and tree with long garlands of crimson, purple, and pink. Over the scarlet 
 of the gooseberry or the gold of the high-bush mimulus along the hills, 
 the honeysuckle hangs its tubes of richest cream-color, and the wild cu- 
 cumber pours a shower of white over the green leaves of the sumach or 
 sage. Snap-dragons of blue and white, dandelions that you must look at 
 three or four times to be certain what they are, thistles that are soft and 
 tender with flowers too pretty for the thistle family, orchids that you may 
 try in vain to classify, and sages and mints of which you can barely recog- 
 nize the genera, with cruciferse, compositie, and what-not, add to the glare 
 and confusion. 
 
 Meanwhile, the chaparral, which during the long dry season has robed 
 the hills in sombre green, begins to brighten with new life ; new leaves 
 adorn the ragged red arms of the manzanita, and among them blow thou- 
 sands of little urn -shaped flowers of rose-color and white. The bright 
 green of one lilac is almost lost in a luxuriance of sky-blue blossoms, and 
 the white lilac looks at a distance as if drifted over with snow. The cer- 
 cocarpus almost rivals the lilac in its display of white and blue, and the 
 dark, forbidding adenostoma now showers forth dense panicles of little 
 white flowers. Here, too, a new mimulus pours floods of yellow light, and 
 high above them all the yucca rears its great plume of purple and white. 
 
 Thus marches on for weeks the floral procession, new turns bringing 
 new banners into view, or casting on old ones a brighter light, but ever 
 showing a riotous profusion of splendor until member after member drops 
 gradually out of the ranks, and only a band of stragglers is left marching 
 away into the summer. But myriads of ferns, twenty- one varieties of 
 which are quite common, and of a fineness and delicacy rarely seen else- 
 where, still stand green in the shade of the rocks and trees along the hills,
 
 206 APPENDIX. 
 
 and many a flower lingers in the timber or canons long after its friends on 
 the open hills or plains have faded away. In the canons and timber are 
 also many flowers that are not found in the open ground, and as late as 
 the middle of September, only twenty miles from the sea, and at an eleva- 
 tion of but fifteen hundred feet, I have gathered bouquets that would 
 attract immediate attention anywhere. The whole land abounds with 
 flowers both curious and lovely ; but those only have been mentioned 
 which force themselves upon one's attention. Where the sheep have not 
 ruined all beauty, and the rains have been sufiicient, they take as full pos- 
 session of the land as the daisy and wild carrot do of some Eastern mead- 
 ows. There are thousands of others, which it would be a hopeless task to 
 enumerate, which are even more numerous than most of the favorite wild 
 flowers are in the East, yet they are not abundant enough to give charac- 
 ter to the country. For instance, there is a great larkspur, six feet high, 
 with a score of branching arms, all studded with spurred flowers of such 
 brilliant red that it looks like a fountain of strontium fire ; but you will 
 not see it every time you turn around. A tall lily grows in the same way, 
 with a hundred golden flowers shining on its many arms, but it must be 
 sought in certain places. So the tiger - lily and the columbine must be 
 sought in the mountains, the rose and sweetbrier on low ground, the night- 
 shades and the helianthus in the timbered canons and gulches. 
 
 Delicacy and brilliancy characterize nearly all the California flowers, 
 and nearly all are so strange, so different from the other members of their 
 families, that they would be an ornament to any greenhouse. The alfi- 
 leria, for mstance, is the richest and strongest fodder in the world. It is 
 the main-stay of the stock-grower, and Avhen raked up after drying makes 
 excellent hay ; yet it is a geranium, delicate and pretty, when not too rank. 
 
 But suddenly the full blaze of color is gone, and the summer is at 
 hand. Brown tints begin to creep over the plains ; the wild oats no lon- 
 ger ripple in silvery waves beneath the sun and wind ; and the foxtail, that 
 shone so brightly green along the hill-side, takes on a golden hue. The 
 light lavender tint of the chorizanthe now spreads along the hills where the 
 poppy so lately flamed, and over the dead morning-glory the dodder weaves 
 its orange floss. A vast army of cruciferse and composita) soon overruns 
 the land with bright yellow, and numerous varieties of mint tinge it with 
 blue or purple ; but the greater portion of the annual vegetation is dead or 
 dying. The distant peaks of granite now begin to glow at evening with a 
 soft purple hue; the light poured into the deep ravines towards sundown 
 floods them with a crimson mist ; on the shady hill-sides the chaparral 
 looks bluer, and on the sunny hill-sides is a brighter green than before.
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 207 
 
 COMPARATIVE TEMPERATURE AROUND THE WORLD. 
 
 The following table, published by the Pasadena Board of 
 Trade, shows the comparative temperature of well-known places 
 in various parts of the world, arranged according to the differ- 
 ence between their average winter and average summer: 
 
 Place. 
 
 Spring 
 
 Difference 
 Summer, 
 Winter. 
 
 Funchal, Madeira 
 
 St. Michael, Azores 
 
 PASADENA 
 
 Santa Cruz, Canaries 
 
 Santa Barbara 
 
 Nassau, Bahama Islands . 
 
 San Diego, California 
 
 Cadiz, Spain 
 
 Lisbon, Portugal 
 
 Malta 
 
 Algiers 
 
 St. Augustine, Florida. . . . 
 
 Rome, Italy 
 
 Sacramento, Califoinia. . . 
 
 Mentone 
 
 Nice, Italy 
 
 New Orleans, Louisiana. . 
 
 Cairo, Egypt 
 
 Jacksonville, Florida 
 
 Pan, France 
 
 Florence, Italy 
 
 San Antonio, Texas 
 
 Aiken, South Carolina. . . . 
 Fort Yuma, California . . . 
 
 Visalia, California 
 
 Santa Fe, New Mexico. . . 
 
 Boston, Mass 
 
 New York, N. Y 
 
 Albuquerque, New Mexico 
 
 Denver, Colorado. 
 
 St. Paul, Minnesota 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota. . . 
 
 62.88 
 57.83 
 56.00 
 64.65 
 54.29 
 70.67 
 54.09 
 52.90 
 53.00 
 57.46 
 55.00 
 58.25 
 48.90 
 47.92 
 49.50 
 47.88 
 56.00 
 58.52 
 55.02 
 41.86 
 44.30 
 52.74 
 45.82 
 57.96 
 45.38 
 30.28 
 28.08 
 31.93 
 34.78 
 27.66 
 15.09 
 12.87 
 
 64.55 
 61.17 
 61.07 
 68.87 
 59.45 
 77.67 
 60.14 
 59.93 
 60.00 
 62.76 
 66.00 
 68.69 
 57.65 
 59.17 
 60.00 
 56.23 
 69.37 
 73.58 
 68.88 
 54.06 
 56.00 
 70.48 
 61.32 
 73.40 
 59.40 
 50.06 
 45.61 
 48.26 
 56.36 
 46.33 
 41.29 
 40.12 
 
 70.89 
 68.33 
 67.61 
 76.68 
 67.71 
 86.00 
 69.67 
 70.43 
 71.00 
 78.20 
 77.00 
 80.36 
 72.16 
 71.19 
 73.00 
 72.26 
 81.08 
 85.10 
 81.93 
 70.72 
 74.00 
 83.73 
 77.36 
 92.07 
 80.78 
 70.50 
 68.68 
 72.62 
 76.27 
 71.66 
 68.03 
 68.34 
 
 70.19 
 62.33 
 62.31 
 74.17 
 63.11 
 80.33 
 64.63 
 65.35 
 62.00 
 71.03 
 60.00 
 71.90 
 63.96 
 61.72 
 56.60 
 61.63 
 69.80 
 71.48 
 62.54 
 57.39 
 60.70 
 71.56 
 61.96 
 75.66 
 60.34 
 51.34 
 51.04 
 48.50 
 56.33 
 47.16 
 44.98 
 45.33 
 
 8.01 
 10.50 
 11.61 
 12.03 
 13.42 
 15.33 
 15.58 
 17.53 
 18.00 
 20.74 
 22.00 
 22.11 
 23.26 
 23.27 
 23.50 
 24.44 
 25.(»8 
 26.58 
 26.91 
 28.86 
 29.70 
 30.99 
 31.54 
 34.11 
 35.40 
 40.22 
 40.60 
 40.69 
 41.40 
 44.00 
 52.94 
 55.47 
 
 CALIFORNIA AND ITALY. 
 
 The Los Angeles Chamber of Commerce, in its pamphlet de- 
 scribing that city and county, gives a letter from the Signal Serv- 
 ice Observer at Sacramento, comparing the temperature of places 
 in California and Ital3^ He writes : 
 
 To prove to your many and intelligent readers the equability and uni- 
 formity of the climate of Santa Barbara, San Diego, and Los Angeles, as
 
 208 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 compared with Mentone and San Remo, of the Riviera of Italy and ot 
 Corfu, I append the monthly temperature for each place. Please notice 
 a much warmer temperature in winter at the California stations, and also 
 a much cooler summer temperature at the same places than at any of the 
 foreio-n places, except Corfu. The table speaks with more emphasis and 
 certainty than I can, and is as follows : 
 
 Month. 
 
 Januiuv . . . 
 Febiuarv . . 
 March. .'. . . 
 
 April 
 
 May 
 
 June 
 
 July 
 
 August. . . . 
 September. 
 October . . . 
 November . 
 December. . 
 
 Averages 
 
 H £ 1-1 
 
 2 m 
 3jq 
 
 7 M 
 
 £3| 
 
 » D C3 
 — fa 
 
 1^' 
 
 z. ~ ° 
 
 C fO ^ 
 
 3g> 
 
 ^ 3 
 
 3 ® 
 52.8 
 
 53.7 
 
 54.4 
 
 54.2 
 
 55.6 
 
 54.2 
 
 55.6 
 
 56.4 
 
 56.0 
 
 57.8 
 
 58.8 
 
 57.9 
 
 61.1 
 
 60.2 
 
 61.0 
 
 64.4 
 
 62.6 
 
 55.5 
 
 67.3 
 
 65.7 
 
 68.3 
 
 68.7 
 
 67.0 
 
 69.5 
 
 66.6 
 
 65.6 
 
 67.5 
 
 62.5 
 
 62.1 
 
 62.7 
 
 58.2 
 
 58.0 
 
 58.8 
 
 55.5 
 
 55.3 
 
 54.8 
 
 60.6 
 
 60.2 
 
 60.4 
 
 C (J> -^ 
 
 -I p 
 
 48.2 
 48.5 
 52.0 
 57.2 
 63.0 
 70.0 
 75.0 
 75.0 
 69.0 
 74.4 
 54.0 
 49.0 
 
 60.4 
 
 47.2 
 50.2 
 52.0 
 57.0 
 62.9 
 69.2 
 74.3 
 73.8 
 70.6 
 61.8 
 58.3 
 49.3 
 
 60.1 
 
 53.6 
 51.8 
 53.6 
 58.3 
 66.7 
 72.3 
 67.7 
 81.3 
 78.8 
 70.8 
 63.8 
 58.4 
 
 65.6 
 
 The table on pages 210 and 211, " Extremes of Heat and Cold," 
 is published by the San Diego Land and Farm Company, whose 
 pamphlet says : 
 
 The United States records at San Diego Signal Station show that in 
 ten years there were but 120 days on which the mercury passed 80°. Of 
 these 120 there were but 41 on which it passed 85°, but 22 when it passed 
 90°, but four over 95°, and only one over 100° ; to wit, 101°, the highest 
 ever recorded here. During all this time there was not a day on which 
 the mercury did not fall to at least Y0° during the night, and there were 
 but five davs on which it did not fall even lower. During the same ten 
 years there were but six days on which the mercury fell below 35°. This 
 low temperature comes only in extremely dry weather in winter, and lasts 
 but a few minutes, happening just before sunrise. On two of these six 
 days it fell to 32° at daylight, the lowest point ever registered here. The 
 lowest mid-day temperature is 52°, occurring only four times in these ten 
 years. From 65° to 70° is the average temperature of noonday through- 
 out the greater part of the year.
 
 January . . . 
 February . . 
 
 March 
 
 April 
 
 May 
 
 June 
 
 July 
 
 August. . . . 
 September. 
 October . . . 
 November . 
 December. . 
 
 
 
 ^po&oo5pop3icpp50a>co 
 to 50 O «o O ^ O o 50 "^ ^ to 
 
 
 00 
 
 Oi _>f>' to 00 02 to 00 >f>. o tC in ^T 
 
 ^ bo 00 02 bi bt bi b 
 
 iua isauuT!A\ JO 
 0ini«jeaiu8x uBaiv 
 
 to p 00 to _t- to 00 4^ _.*>. Oi K- <X> 
 
 oobibiot'towbobb'bt 
 
 •jtsa isapioo JO 
 eaniBaadmaj, usan 
 
 moicnC5os03C5020TO*OTOt 
 
 C» 05 00 CO 00 01 to p Ot M 50 _OT 
 
 00 M JO CXI to CO "0 bi ^ H- Ci b 
 
 maoN qoBa JO 
 aaniBjadiuax uuaK 
 
 00 
 
 OiptOOOtOtO^JOti— lOOOO 
 
 00 bn ar CO b bi bi bi bi c bi 
 
 •Xt!a isaouBAi JO 
 9jri}Bj8diuaj, a^eK 
 
 >*>.^CnOTOJOSUiCTOT>fe4^i*k 
 
 CO ^ _-- -J CO CO 00 A. p p pi -:r 
 otbo^biocobibbitobbi 
 
 ■Xbq fsapioo JO 
 ajtnuaadoiax otok 
 
 OtCTOiCiO^OiOiOSOTOtCJiC^T 1 
 
 10 00 Oi p rf^ i^ CO p 00 ^J p 4». j IIJUOIV qOB8 JO 
 
 bo '« b b 00 b-. <i b 4i- b >*>■ 05 ! ojniBjaduiax aeoH 
 
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 to 0< >h- p CD _^ 50 -J 05 >*^ ^ CO 
 
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 CO --J p _— to p CO 0: — to Cn CO 
 
 bbicobxbcobMobcob 
 
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 p_CDCC-^p~J-^-jcCCOCOcO 
 
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 00 
 
 CO >*>. p p to .Ni CO 4^ C« ~T 00 
 
 b CO CO to b b b bt b bi bi ^ 
 
 ajtuBjaduiax nBan 
 
 to4^cDcocococo^-ioo2co— ^^0 isapioo jo 
 'O' 'oi h 'ts '01 a '01 '-:i a '0 'c> '0 ajnjBjaduiax aB8K 
 
 OtCH050505050505OIO<OtCT 
 
 rf^pcooo-j4^toocoooc;ico 
 *>• CO bo CO io br b CO b (f^ b 
 
 •qiuoK nova jo 
 ajnjBjadtuax neaH 
 
 00 
 
 O5O5<T-J^J-00OSS5~a-O5O5CH 
 PP'pOO-^4i»-C;« OOtO-^OroO 
 
 <i^ CO bbb^bi^bbb 
 
 ■Xbq isaiujBAV JO ' 
 aanjL'jadiuax neajv 
 
 p >*>. p to CO — 00 4^ to to or 00 
 
 ooioobbbibi^rbibrbo 
 
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 ajn)«j3dai3x a^ait 
 
 pcooo; ; ; poo~j— -o 
 
 05 to bi • • • 'h- ^ '.to. CO to to 
 
 ^ >— ^ . . . COO-. CO — coco 
 
 •saqoni 
 'HBjniBH XiqiaoK 
 
 ^ 
 
 2 
 
 
 £3 *^ 1^ 
 
 
 •^ w p- 
 
 
 C*- Q 
 
 
 (H tr»- 
 
 
 
 
 l-C •=-- 
 
 
 ^30 
 
 
 p s ^ 
 
 
 c^ p 2. 
 
 
 S p B 
 
 
 CD ^ ^^ 
 
 
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 ^^ £ 
 
 
 pr CD CD 
 
 
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 f ^ B 
 
 
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 g CD 3 
 
 5 <^ 
 
 
 
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 ^ p M 
 
 
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 ri^ - I-+, 
 
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 ogol 
 
 
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 &- 1:3 m" 
 
 
 CD (T*- <r+- 
 
 hr^ 
 
 ^ ^ ^ 
 
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 ^ a" 3 
 
 W 
 
 c» 
 
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 >-• CD S'^ 
 
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 3 CD 
 •^ '-i 
 
 cn 
 
 ill 
 
 f^ a 3 
 
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 eter i 
 1885 
 mont 
 
 W 
 
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 GO Ct> 
 
 
 Q^ ^ 
 
 
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 c-t- ►^ 
 
 
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 14
 
 210 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 Observations made at San Diego City, compiled from Report 
 of the Chief Signal Officer of the U. S. Army. 
 
 
 Observations Extending over a 
 
 Period of Twelve Years. 
 
 p 5 - 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 > 
 
 g 
 
 a 
 
 g 
 
 
 -1 D.< 
 
 a 9 % 
 
 (D P 2 
 
 O P= 3 
 
 »"<) p 
 
 0-0 = 
 
 != O 5 
 
 D --> 2 
 
 2.5: 3 
 
 £. p 
 
 c-3 
 
 ro 5= 
 
 S-i 
 
 « 2 
 
 
 MONTH. 
 
 = 2, 
 
 So 
 
 P s 
 
 o 
 Co 
 
 5.» 
 
 3"! 
 
 p p. 
 
 0^ 
 ^ < 
 
 ■« 
 
 p "a 
 0. p 
 
 it 
 
 s-i 
 
 D 2 
 Cp 
 
 13 
 
 B g- 
 
 S^3 
 
 B 2 
 
 D.3 
 
 3 ? 
 §3 
 
 ll 
 
 c (B cr 
 1 p P 
 
 S„3 
 
 m =* 2. 
 
 • 2 Q 
 
 B -I 
 
 
 B n. 
 
 B s: 
 
 5 p 
 
 g. £, 
 
 c 2. 
 
 
 
 T 2, 
 
 r* -k 
 
 B P 
 
 
 D."*; 
 
 p. -! 
 
 
 
 
 T 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 T 
 
 
 January 
 
 8.5 
 
 11.2 
 
 11.3 
 
 4.1 
 
 5.1 
 
 1.85 
 
 32.0 
 
 78.0 
 
 53.6 
 
 30.027 
 
 Februarv .... 
 
 7.9 
 
 11.3 
 
 9.0 
 
 4.4 
 
 6.0 
 
 2.07 
 
 35.0 
 
 82.6 
 
 54.3 
 
 30.058 
 
 March 
 
 9.6 
 
 12.7 
 
 8.7 
 
 4.8 
 
 6.4 
 
 0.97 
 
 38.0 
 
 99.0 
 
 55.7 
 
 30.004 
 
 April 
 
 7.9 
 
 11.9 
 
 10.2 
 
 4.4 
 
 6.6 
 
 0.68 
 
 39.0 
 
 87.0 
 
 67.7 
 
 29.965 
 
 May 
 
 10.9 
 
 12.1 
 
 8.0 
 
 5.2 
 
 6.7 
 
 0.26 
 
 45.4 
 
 94.0 
 
 61.0 
 
 29.893 
 
 June 
 
 8.1 
 
 15.2 
 
 6.7 
 
 5.0 
 
 6.3 
 
 0.05 
 
 51.0 
 
 94.0 
 
 64.4 
 
 29.864 
 
 Julv 
 
 6.7 
 
 16.1 
 
 8.2 
 
 4.7 
 
 6.3 
 
 0.02 
 
 54.0 
 
 86.0 
 
 67.1 
 
 29.849 
 
 August 
 
 4.7 
 
 16.9 
 
 9.4 
 
 4.1 
 
 6.0 
 
 0.23 
 
 54.0 
 
 86.0 
 
 68.7 
 
 29.894 
 
 September.. . 
 
 4.4 
 
 13.9 
 
 11.7 
 
 3.7 
 
 5.9 
 
 0.05 
 
 49.5 
 
 101.0 
 
 66.8 
 
 29.840 
 
 October 
 
 5.6 
 
 12.6 
 
 12.8 
 
 3.9 
 
 5.4 
 
 0.49 
 
 44.0 
 
 92.0 
 
 62.9 
 
 29.905 
 
 November . . . 
 
 6.5 
 
 10.0 
 
 13.5 
 
 3.6 
 
 5.1 
 
 0.70 
 
 38.0 
 
 85.0 
 
 58.3 
 
 29.991 
 
 December . . . 
 
 6.6 
 
 11.2 
 
 13.2 
 
 3.7 
 
 5.1 
 
 2.12 
 
 32.0 
 
 82.0 
 
 55.6 
 
 30.009 
 
 Mean annual. 
 
 87.4 
 
 155.1 
 
 122.7 
 
 4.3 
 
 5.9 
 
 9.49 
 
 42.6 
 
 88.8 
 
 60.5 
 
 29.942 
 
 EXTREMES OF HEAT AND COLD. 
 
 The following table, taken from the Eeport of the Chief Sig- 
 nal Officer, shows the highest and lowest temperatures recorded 
 since the opening of stations of the Signal Service at the points 
 named, for the number of years indicated. An asterisk (*) de- 
 notes below zero : 
 
 Locality of 
 Station. 
 
 S2, 
 < -< 
 
 Jan. 
 
 Feb. 
 
 March. 
 
 April. 
 
 May. 
 
 June. 
 
 p" 
 s' 
 
 5' 
 3 
 
 F 
 
 S' 
 5 
 
 p 
 
 X 
 
 5' 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 g 
 d' 
 3 
 
 g 
 p 
 
 X 
 
 3 
 
 B 
 
 3 
 
 p 
 
 X 
 
 3 
 
 g 
 
 B 
 
 3 
 
 
 
 
 c 
 
 
 S 
 
 
 
 c 
 
 
 c 
 
 B 
 
 rt 
 
 c 
 
 
 • 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 y 
 
 3 
 
 g 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 Charleston. S. C... . 
 
 12 
 
 80 
 
 23 
 
 78 
 
 26 
 
 85 
 
 28 
 
 87 
 
 32 
 
 94 
 
 47 
 
 94 
 
 65 
 
 Denver, Col 
 
 12 
 
 67 
 
 *29 
 
 72 
 
 *22 
 
 81 
 
 *10 
 
 83 
 
 4 
 
 92 
 
 27 
 
 89 
 
 50 
 
 Jacksonville, Fla. . . 
 
 12 
 
 80 
 
 24 
 
 83 
 
 32 
 
 88 
 
 31 
 
 91 
 
 37 
 
 99 
 
 48 
 
 101 
 
 62 
 
 L'SANG'LES,CAL. 
 
 6 
 
 82 
 
 30 
 
 86 
 
 28 
 
 99 
 
 34 
 
 94 
 
 39 
 
 100 
 
 40 
 
 lo*; 
 
 47 
 
 New Orleans, La. . . 
 
 13 
 
 78 
 
 20 
 
 80 
 
 33 
 
 84 
 
 37 
 
 86 
 
 38 
 
 92 
 
 56 
 
 97 
 
 65 
 
 Newport, R. I 
 
 2 
 
 48 
 
 2 
 
 50 
 
 4 
 
 60 
 
 4 
 
 62 
 
 26 
 
 75 
 
 33 
 
 91 
 
 41 
 
 New York 
 
 13 
 
 64 
 
 *6 
 
 69 
 
 *4 
 
 72 
 
 *3 
 
 81 
 
 20 
 
 94 
 
 34 
 
 95 
 
 47 
 
 Pensacola, Fla 
 
 4 
 
 74 
 
 29 
 
 78 
 
 31 
 
 79 
 
 36 
 
 87 
 
 34 
 
 93 
 
 47 
 
 97 
 
 64 
 
 SAN DIEGO, CAL.. 
 
 12 
 
 78 
 
 32 
 
 83 
 
 35 
 
 99 
 
 88 
 
 87 
 
 39 
 
 94 
 
 45 
 
 94 
 
 51 
 
 San Francisco, Cal. . 
 
 « 
 
 12 
 
 69 
 
 36 
 
 71 
 
 35 
 
 77 
 
 39 
 
 81 
 
 40 
 
 86 1 45 
 
 95 
 
 48
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 211 
 
 EXTREMES OF HEAT AND COLT).— Continued. 
 
 
 s; 
 
 JCLT. 
 
 Aug. 
 
 Sept. 
 
 Oct. 
 
 Nov. 
 
 Dec. 
 
 Locality of 
 Station. 
 
 OO 
 
 fo 
 
 ST. 0= 
 
 • o 
 
 1 
 
 c 
 3 
 
 1 
 g 
 5' 
 3 
 
 B 
 
 3 
 
 3 
 
 B 
 
 3 
 
 S 
 5' 
 
 3' 
 c 
 3 
 
 X 
 
 3' 
 c 
 3 
 
 5' 
 
 3 
 
 c 
 3 
 
 p 
 
 b' 
 
 s 
 
 3 
 
 5' 
 
 i' 
 
 c 
 g 
 
 p 
 
 3 
 
 c 
 3 
 
 5' 
 
 i' 
 
 c 
 3 
 
 2 
 p 
 
 X 
 
 3 
 
 c 
 3 
 
 5' 
 
 3' 
 s 
 3 
 
 Charleston, S. C 
 
 12 
 
 94 
 
 69 
 
 96 
 
 69 
 
 94 
 
 64 
 
 89 
 
 49 
 
 81 
 
 33 
 
 78 
 
 22 
 
 Denver, Col 
 
 12 
 
 91 
 
 59 
 
 93 
 
 60 
 
 93 
 
 51 
 
 84 
 
 38 
 
 73 
 
 23 
 
 69 
 
 1 
 
 Jacksonville, Fla. . . 
 
 12 
 
 104 
 
 68 
 
 100 
 
 66 
 
 98 
 
 56 
 
 92 
 
 40 
 
 84 
 
 30 
 
 81 
 
 19 
 
 L'SANG'LES,CAL. 
 New Orleans, La. . . 
 
 6 
 13 
 
 98 
 96 
 
 51 
 70 
 
 100 
 97 
 
 50 
 69 
 
 104 
 92 
 
 44 
 
 58 
 
 97 
 89 
 
 43 
 40 
 
 86 
 82 
 
 34 
 32 
 
 88 
 78 
 
 30 
 20 
 
 Newport, R. I 
 
 ■^ 
 
 87 
 
 56 
 
 85 
 
 45 
 
 77 
 
 39 
 
 75 
 
 29 
 
 62 
 
 17 
 
 56 
 
 *9 
 
 New York 
 
 13 
 
 99 
 
 57 
 
 96 
 
 53 
 
 100 
 
 36 
 
 83 
 
 31 
 
 74 
 
 7 
 
 66 
 
 *6 
 
 Pensacola, Fla 
 
 4 
 
 97 
 
 64 
 
 93 
 
 69 
 
 93 
 
 57 
 
 89 
 
 45 
 
 81 
 
 28 
 
 76 
 
 17 
 
 SAN DIEGO, CAL. 
 
 12 
 
 86 
 
 54 
 
 86 
 
 54 
 
 101 
 
 60 
 
 92 
 
 44 
 
 85 
 
 88 
 
 82 
 
 32 
 
 San Francisco, Cal. . 
 
 12 
 
 83 
 
 49 
 
 89 
 
 50 
 
 92 
 
 50 
 
 84 
 
 45 
 
 78 
 
 41 
 
 68 
 
 34 
 
 STATEMENTS OF SMALL CROPS. 
 
 The following statements of crops on small pieces of ground, mostly 
 in Los Angeles County, in 1890, were furnished to the Chamber of Com- 
 merce in Los Angeles, and are entirely trustworthy. Nearly all of them 
 bear date August 1st. This is a fair sample from all Southern California: 
 
 PEACHES. 
 
 Ernest Dewey, Pomona — Golden Cling Peaches, 10 acres, 7 years old, 
 produced 47 tons green ; sold dried for $4800; cost of production, $243.70 ; 
 net profit, $4556.30. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. Amount of rain, 28 
 inches, winter of 1889-90. 
 
 H. H. Rose, Santa Anita Township (f of a mile from Lamanda Park) — 2-| 
 acres ; produced 47,543 pounds ; sold for $863.46 ; cost of production, 
 $104 ; net profit, $759.46. Soil, light sandy loam ; not irrigated. Pro- 
 duced in 1889 12,000 pounds, which sold at $1.70 per 100 pounds. 
 
 E. R. Thompson, Azusa (2 miles south of depot) — 2-^ acres, 233 trees, 
 produced 57,655 pounds; sold for $864,82|-; cost of production, $140 ; 
 net profit, $724.82^. Soil, sandy loam ; irrigated three times in summer, 
 1 inPh to 7 acres. Trees 7 years old, not more than two-thirds grown. 
 
 P. O'Connor, Downey — 20 trees produced 4000 pounds ; sold for $60 ; 
 cost of production $5 ; net profit, $55. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. 
 Crop sold on the ground. 
 
 H. Hood, Downey City (^ of a mile from depot) — ^ of an aero produced
 
 212 APPENDIX. 
 
 7|-tons; sold for $150; cost of production, $10 ; net profit, $140. Damp 
 sandy soil ; not irrigated. 
 
 F. D. Smith (between Azusa and Glendora, 1^ miles from depot) — 1 acre 
 produced 14,361 pounds; sold for $262.51 ; cost of production, $20 ; net 
 profit, $232.51. Dark sandy loam ; irrigated once. Trees 5 and 6 years old. 
 
 P. O. Johnson, Ranchito — 17 trees, 10 years old, produced 4f tons ; sold 
 4|- tons for $120; cost of production, $10; net profit, $110; very little 
 irrigation. Sales were -Jc. per pound under market rate. 
 
 E. P. Naylor (3 miles from Pomona) — 15 acres produced 149 tons; 
 sold for $7450; cost of production, $527; net profit, $6923. Soil, loam, 
 with some sand; irrigated, 1 inch per 10 acres. 
 
 W. H. Baker, Downey (^ of a mile from depot) — 1^ acres produced 
 12,529 pounds; sold for $551.90; cost of production, $50; net profit, 
 $501.90. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. 
 
 Howe Bros. (2 miles from Lordsburg) — 800 trees, which had received 
 no care for 2 years, produced 28 tons; sold for $1400; cost of produc- 
 tion, $200; net profit, $1200. Soil, gravelly loam, red ; partially irrigated. 
 Messrs. Howe state that they came into possession of this place in March, 
 1890. The weeds were as high as the trees and the ground was very hard. 
 Only about 500 of the trees had a fair crop on them. 
 
 W. A. Spalding, Azusa — ^ of an acre produced 10,404 pounds ; sold for 
 $156.06 ; cost of production, $10 ; net profit, $146.06. Soil, sandy loam. 
 
 E. A. Hubbard, Pomona (1^ miles from depot) — 4^ acres produced 24 
 tons; sold green for $1080; cost of production, $280; net profit, $800. 
 Soil, dark sandy loam ; irrigated. This entire ranch of 9 acres was bought 
 in 1884 for $1575. 
 
 F. M, Smith (1^ miles east of Azusa) — |- of an acre produced 17,174 
 pounds ; sold for $315.84 ; cost of production, $25 ; net profit, $290. Soil, 
 deep, dark sandy loam ; irrigated once in the spring. Trees 5 years old. 
 
 George Rhorer (^ of a mile east of North Pomona) — 13 acres produced 
 88 tons ; sold for $4400 on the trees ; cost of production, $260 ; net profit, 
 $4140. Soil, gravelly loam ; irrigated, 1 inch to 8 acres. Trees planted 
 5 years ago last spring. 
 
 J. S. Flory (between the Big and Little Tejunga rivers) — 1^ acres or 135 
 trees 20 feet apart each way ; 100 of the trees 4 years old, the balance of 
 the trees 5 years old ; produced 5230 pounds dried ; sold for $523 ; cost 
 of production, $18; net profit, $505. Soil, light loam, with some sand; 
 not irrigated.
 
 APPENDIX. 213 
 
 W. Caruthers (2 miles north of Downey) — f of an acre produced 5 tons; 
 sold for $222; cost of production, $7.50; net profit, $215. Soil, sandy 
 loam ; not irrigated. Trees 4 years old. 
 
 James Loney, Pomona — 2 acres; product sold for $1150 ; cost of pro- 
 duction, $50 ; net profit, $1100. Soil, sandy loam. 
 
 I. W. Lord, Eswena — 5 acres produced 40 tons ; sold for $2000 ; cost of 
 production, $300 ; net profit, $1700. Soil, sandy loam. 
 
 M. B. Moulton, Pomona — 3 acres; sold for $1873 ; cost of production, 
 $215 ; net profit, $1658. Soil, deep sandy loam. Trees 9 years old. 
 
 Ernest Dewey, Pomona — 6 acres produced 38 tons green; dried, at 10 
 
 cents a pound, $3147 ; cost of production, $403 ; profit, $2734. Soil, sandy 
 
 loam ; irrigated one inch to 10 acres. Sixty per cent, increase over former 
 year. 
 
 C. S. Ambrose, Pomona — 12 acres produced 77 tons ; $50 per ton gross, 
 
 $3850; labor of one hand one year, $150; profit, $3700. Soil, gravelly; 
 
 very little irrigation. Prunes sold on trees. 
 
 Joachim F. Jarchow, San Gabriel — 2^ acres; 10-year trees; product 
 sold for $1650 ; cost of production $100, including cultivation of 7-^ acres, 
 not bearing; net profit, $1550. 
 
 F. D. Smith, Azusa — 6^ acres produced 600 boxes; sold for $1200; 
 cost of production, $130; net profit, $10/0. Soil, dark sandy loam; irri- 
 gated three times. Trees 4 years old. 
 
 George Lightfoot, South Pasadena — 5^ acres produced 700 boxes ; 
 sold for $1100; cost of production, $50; net profit, $1050. Soil, rich, 
 sandy loam ; irrigated once a year. 
 
 H. Hood, Downey — ^ of an acre produced 275 boxes; sold for $275; 
 cost of production, $25 ; net profit, $250. Soil, damp, sandy; not irrigated. 
 
 W. G. Earle, Azusa — 1 acre produced 210 boxes ; sold for $262 ; cost of 
 production, $15 ; net profit, $247. Soil, sandy loam ; irrigated four times. 
 
 Nathaniel Hayden, Vernon — 4 acres; 986 boxes at $1.20 per box; 
 sales, $1182 ; cost of production, $50 ; net profit, $1132. Loam ; irrigated. 
 Other products on the 4 acres. 
 
 H. O. Fosdick, Santa Ana — 1 acre; 6 years old; 350 boxes; sales, 
 $700 ; cost of production and packing, $50 ; net profit, $650. Loam ; 
 irrigated. 
 
 J. H. Isbell, Rivera — 1 acre, 82 trees; 16 years old ; sales, $600; cost 
 of production, $25 ; profit, $575. Irrigated. $1.10 per box for early de- 
 livery, $1.65 for later.
 
 214 APPENDIX. 
 
 William Bernhard, Monte Vista — 10 acres produced 25 tons; sold for 
 $750; cost of production, $70 ; net profit, $680. Soil, heavy loam; not 
 irrigated. Vines 5 years old. 
 
 Dillon, Kennealy & McClure, Burbank (1 mile from Roscoe Station) — 
 200 acres produced 90,000 gallons of wine ; cost of production, $5000 ; 
 net profit, about $30,000. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated ; vineyard in 
 very liealthy condition. 
 
 P. O'Connor (2^ miles south of Dovk^ney) — 12 acres produced 100 
 tons; sold for $1500 ; cost of production, $360; net profit, $1140. Soil, 
 sandy loam; not irrigated. Vines planted in 1884, when the land would 
 not sell for $100 per acre. 
 
 J. K. Banks (If miles from Downey) — 40 acres produced 250 tons; 
 sold for $3900 ; cost of production, $1300 ; net profit, $2600. Soil, sandy 
 loam. 
 
 BERRIES. 
 
 W. Y. Earle (2^ miles from Azusa) — Strawberries, 2^ acres produced 
 15,000 boxes; sold for $750; cost of production, $225 ; net profit, $525. 
 Soil, sandy loam ; irrigated. Shipped 3000 boxes to Ogden, Utah, and 
 6000 boxes to Albuquerque and El Paso. 
 
 Benjamin Norris, Pomona — Blackberries, ^ of an acre produced 2500 
 pounds ; sold for $100 ; cost of production, $5 ; net profit, $95. Soil, light 
 sandy ; irrigated. 
 
 S. H. Eye, Covina — Raspberries, |^ of an acre produced 1800 pounds; 
 sold for $195; cost of production, $85; net profit, $110. Soil, sandy 
 loam ; irrigated. 
 
 J. 0. Houser, Covina — Blackberries, ^ of an acre produced. 648 pounds; 
 sold for $71,28; cost of production, $18; net profit, $53.28. Soil, sandy 
 loam ; irrigated. First year's crop. 
 
 APRICOTS. 
 
 T. D. Leslie (1 mile from Pomona) — 1 acre produced 10 tons; sold 
 for $250 ; cost of production, $60 ; net profit, $190. Soil, loose, gravelly ; 
 irrigated; 1 inch to 10 acres. First crop. 
 
 George Lightfoot, South Pasadena — 2 acres produced 11 tons; sold 
 for $260; cost of production, $20; net profit, $240. Soil, sandy loam; 
 not irrigated. 
 
 T. D. Smith, Azusa — 1 acre produced 13,555 pounds; sold for $169.44; 
 cost of production, $25; net profit, $144.44. Soil, sandy loam; irrigated 
 once. Trees 5 years old.
 
 APPENDIX. 215 
 
 W. Y. Earle (2^ miles from Azusa) — 6 acres produced G tons ; sold for 
 $350; cost of production, $25; net profit, $325. Soil, sandy loam; not 
 irrigated. Trees 3 years old. 
 
 W. A. Spalding, Azusa — 335 trees produced 15,478 pounds; sold for 
 $647.43 ; cost of production, $50 ; net profit, $597.43. Soil, sandy loam. 
 
 Mrs. Winkler, Pomona — f of an acre, 90 trees ; product sold for $381 ; 
 cost of production, $28.40; net profit, $352.60. Soil, sandy loam; not 
 irrigated. Only help, small boys and girls. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS FRUITS. 
 
 E. A. Bonine, Lamanda Park — Apricots, nectarines, prunes, peaches, 
 and lemons, 30 acres produced 160 tons; sold for $8000; cost of pro- 
 duction, $1500 ; net profit, $6500. No irrigation. 
 
 J. P. Fleming (1^ miles from Rivera) — Walnuts, 40 acres produced 
 12^ tons; sold for $2120; cost of production, $120 ; net profit, $2000. 
 Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. 
 
 George Liglitfoot, South Pasadena — Lemons, 2 acres produced 500 
 boxes ; sold for $720 ; cost of production, $20 ; net profit, $700. Soil, rich 
 sandy loam ; not irrigated. Trees 10 years old. 
 
 W. A. Spalding, Azusa — Nectarines, 96 trees produced 19,378 pounds; 
 sold for $242.22 ; cost of production, $35 ; net profit, $207.22. Soil, sandy 
 loam. 
 
 F. D. Smith, Azusa — Nectarines, If acres produced 36,350 pounds; 
 sold for $363.50 ; cost of production, $35 ; net profit, $318.50. Soil, deep 
 dark sandy loam ; irrigated once in spring. Trees 5 and 6 years old. 
 
 C. D. Ambrose (4 miles north of Pomona) — Pears, 3 acres produced 
 33,422 pounds ; sold green for $1092.66 ; cost of production, $57 ; net 
 profit, $1035.66. Soil, foot-hill loam; partly irrigated. 
 
 N. Hayden — Statement of amount of fruit taken from 4 acres for one 
 season at Vernon District: 985 boxes oranges, 15 boxes lemons, 8000 
 pounds apricots, 2200 pounds peaches, 200 pounds loquats, 2500 pounds 
 nectarines, 4000 pounds apples, 1000 pounds plums, 1000 pounds prunes, 
 1000 pounds figs, 150 pounds walnuts, 500 pounds pears. Proceeds, 
 $1650. A family of five were supplied with all the fruit they wanted be- 
 sides the above. 
 
 POTATOES. 
 
 O. Bullis, Compton — 28f acres produced 3000 sacks; sold for $3000; 
 cost of production, $500 ; net profit, $2500. Soil, peat; not irrigated. 
 This land has been in potatoes 3 years, and will be sown to cabbages, thus 
 producing two crops this year.
 
 216 APPENDIX. 
 
 P. F. Cogswell, El Monte — 25 acres produced 150 tons; sold for 
 $3400; cost of production, $450; net profit, $2950. Soil, sediment; not 
 irrigated. 
 
 M. Metcalf, El Monte — 8 acres produced 64 tons ; sold for $900 ; cost 
 of production, $50 ; net profit, $850. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. 
 
 Jacob Vernon (1^ miles from Covina) — 3 acres produced 400 sacks ; 
 sold for $405.88 ; cost of production, $5 ; net profit, $400.88. Soil, sandy- 
 loam ; irrigated one acre. Two-thirds of crop was volunteer. 
 
 H. Hood, Downey — Sweet potatoes, 1 acre produced 300 sacks ; sold 
 for $300; cost of production, $30 ; net profit, $270. Soil, sandy loam; 
 not irrigated. 
 
 C. C. Stub, Savannab (1 mile from depot) — 10 acres produced 1000 
 s sacks ; sold for $2000 ; cost of production, $100 ; net profit, $1900, Soil, 
 sandy loam ; not irrigated. A grain crop was raised on the same land this 
 year. 
 
 ONIONS. 
 
 F. A. Atwater and C. P. Eldridge, Clearwater — 1 acre produced 211 
 sacks; sold for $211; cost of production, $100 ; net profit, $111. Soil, 
 sandy loam; no irrigation. At present prices the onions would have 
 brought $633. 
 
 Charles Lauber, Downey — 1 acre produced 113 sacks; sold for $642 ; 
 cost of production, $50 ; net profit, $592. No attention was paid to the 
 cultivation of this crop. Soil, sandy loam ; not irrigated. At present 
 prices the same onions would have brought $803. 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS VEGETABLES. 
 
 Eugene Lassene, University — Pumpkins, 5 acres produced 150 loads; 
 sold for $4 per load ; cost of production, $3 per acre ; net profit, $585. Soil, 
 sandy loam. A crop of barley was raised from the same land this year. 
 
 P. K. Wood, Clearwater — Pea-nuts, 3 acres produced 5000 pounds ; 
 sold for $250 ; cost of production, $40 ; net profit, $210. Soil, light sandy ; 
 not irrigated. Planted too deep, and got about one-third crop. 
 
 Oliver E, Roberts (Terrace Farm, Cahuenga Valley) — 3 acres tomatoes ; 
 sold product for $461.75. Soil, foot-hill; not irrigated; second crop, 
 watermelons. One-half acre green peppers ; sold product for $54.30. 1^ 
 acres of green peas; sold product for $220. 17 fig-trees; first crop sold 
 for $40. Total product of 5^ acres, $776.05. 
 
 Jacob Miller, Cahuenga — Green peas, 10 acres; 43,615 pounds; sales, 
 $3052 ; cost of production and marketing, $500 ; profit, $2552. Soil, foot- 
 hill ; not irrigated. Second crop, melons.
 
 APPENDIX. 217 
 
 "W. W. Bliss, Duarte — Honey, 215 stands; 15,000 pounds; sales, 
 $785. Mountain district. Bees worth $1 to $3 per stand. 
 
 James Stewart, Downey — Figs, 3 acres; 20 tons, at $50, $1000. Not 
 irrigated; 26 inches rain; 1 acre of trees 16 years old, 2 acres 5 years. 
 Figs sold on trees. 
 
 The mineral wealth of Southern California is not yet appreciated. 
 Among the rare minerals which promise much is a very large deposit of 
 tin in the Temescal Canon, below South Riverside. It is in the hands of 
 an English company. It is estimated that there are 23 square miles rich 
 in tin ore, and it is said that the average yield of tin is 20:^ per cent.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 AcAMO, 165, 170. 
 
 Adenostoma, 205. 
 
 Africa, 18. 
 
 Aiken, South Carolina, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Ailantus, 134. 
 
 Alaska, 34. 
 
 Albuquerque, New Mexico, 165. 
 
 temperature of, 207. 
 
 Alfalfa, 23, 98, 101, 204. 
 Alfileria, 203, 206. 
 Algier-s, Temperature of, 207. 
 AUiambra, 124. 
 Almond, 18, 19, 101. 
 Alpine pass, 1. 
 Amalfi, 30. 
 Ambrose, C. D., 215. 
 Ambrose, Ernest, 213. 
 
 Anacapa, 2. 
 
 Anaheim, 134. 
 
 Antelope, 114, 188. 
 
 Apples, 19, 96, 97, 127. 
 
 prices and profits, 215. 
 
 San Diego, 97. 
 
 Apricots, 18, 19, 43, 92. 
 
 prices and profits, 214, 215. 
 
 Arcadian Station, 126. 
 
 Arizona, 5, 149, 164, 173, 177. 
 
 Cattle Company, 186. 
 
 desert, 79. 
 
 Arrow-head Hot Springs, 117. 
 
 Artist Point, 154. 
 
 Atlantic, 5, 18, 47, 165, 198. 
 
 At water, F. A., 216. 
 
 Aubrey sandstones, 195. 
 
 Australian lady-bug, 129. 
 
 navels, 120. 
 
 Azusa, 211-215. 
 
 Baker, W. H., 212. 
 Baldwin plantation, 127. 
 Banana, 19, 134. 
 Bancroft, H. H., 56. 
 Banks, J. K., 214. 
 Banning, 96. 
 
 Barley, 8, 14, 25, 138. 
 
 prices and profits, 216. 
 
 Beans, 138. 
 
 Bear Valley Dam, 117, 118. 
 
 Bees, 217. 
 
 Bell-flower, 204. 
 
 Bernhard, William, 214. 
 
 Berries, 141. 
 
 Big Tejunga River, 212. 
 
 Big Trees (Mariposa), 150, 156-161. 
 
 Birch, 134. 
 
 Blackberries — prices and profits, 214. 
 
 Bliss, W.W., 217. 
 
 Bohemia Toplitz waters, 163. 
 
 Bonine, E. A., 215. 
 
 Boston, Massachusetts, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Bozenta (Count), 134. 
 
 Brandy, 136. 
 
 Breezes, 70, 123, 184, 203. (See Winds.) 
 
 Bright Angel Amphitheatre, 195. 
 
 Buenaventura, 138. 
 
 Bullis, 0., 215. 
 
 Burbank, 214. 
 
 Cactus, 69, 165. 
 
 Cadiz, Spain, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Cahuenga Valley, 216. 
 
 Cairo, Egypt, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Capri, 30, 80. 
 
 Carlisle school, 168. 
 
 Carlsbad, 163. 
 
 Carrot (wilii), 206. 
 
 Caruthers, W., 213. 
 
 Citaract Canon, 182. 
 
 Cedars, 185, 186. 
 
 Cei-eals, 1 2. (See Grains.) 
 
 Chalcedony Park, 183. 
 
 Chamber of Commerce, Los Angeles, 211. 
 
 San Diego, 143. 
 
 Ciiaparral, 81, 202, 205, 206. 
 
 Charleston, South Carolina, Temperature of, 
 
 210, 211. 
 Chautauqua. The, 76. 
 Chemisal, 202.
 
 220 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Cherries, 43. 
 
 Chief Signal Officer, U. S. A., Report of, 210. 
 China trade, 142. 
 Chorizanthe, 206. 
 Chula Vista, 144. 
 Clearwater, 216. 
 
 Climate, 4-6, 9, 29, 43, 45, 48, 130, 140, 142, 
 146. 
 
 adapted to health, 29, 37, 38, 45, 46. 
 
 adapted to recreation, 70. 
 
 conopared to European, 5 ; to Italian, 
 
 18 ; to Mediterranean, 18 ; to Tangierian, 
 46. 
 
 discussed and described, 10, 38, 44, 45. 
 
 affected by ocean and deserts, 4, 8, 29, 
 
 45. 
 
 effect on character, 88. 
 
 effect on disease, 50. 
 
 effect on fruits, 10. 
 
 effect on horses, 55. 
 
 effect on longevity, 56, 59, 62. 
 
 effect on seasons, 10, 43, 65, 66. 
 
 Hufeland on, 52. 
 
 insular, 76. 
 
 in various altitudes, 46. 
 
 Johnson (Dr.) on, 201. 
 
 of Coronado Beach, 47, 81, 87. 
 
 of New Mexico, 164. 
 
 of Pasadena, 130, 
 
 of San Diego, 49. 
 
 of winter, 43, 48. 
 
 Van Dyke on, 6, 78. 
 
 Climatic regions, 4. 
 
 Clover. 204. 
 
 Cogswell, P F., 216. 
 
 Colorado desert, 2-5, 6, 33, 34, 46. 
 
 Grand Canon, 149. (See Grand C;inon. 
 
 Plateau, 182. 
 
 description of, 177. 
 
 River, 8, 197, 199. 
 
 course described, 177. 
 
 Columbine, 206. 
 
 Como, 1. 
 
 Compton, 215. 
 
 Concord coach, 184. 
 
 Cooper, Elhvood, 125. 
 
 Corfu, Temperature of, 208. 
 
 Corn, 9, 12, 14, 25, 98. 
 
 Coronado Beach, 29, 33, 47, 87, 202. 
 
 climate, 47, 81, 87. 
 
 Description of, 80-87. 
 
 Islands, 30. 
 
 Vasques de, 32, 165. 
 
 Covina, 214, 216. 
 
 Cremation among Indians, 60. 
 
 Crossthwaite, Philip, Longevity of, 61. 
 
 Crowfoot, 204. 
 
 Crucifers, 204. 
 
 Cucumbers, 205. 
 
 Cuyamaca (monntain\ 6, 18, 33, 37. 
 
 (reservoir), 144. 
 
 Cypress (Monterey), 49, 82, 130. 
 — — Point (tree),' 161. 
 
 description of, 162. 
 
 Cvpriote ware, 169. 
 Cvi)rus, 82, 134. 
 
 Daisy, 206. 
 
 Dandelion, 205. 
 
 Date (palms), 19, 42, 49, 85, 134. 
 
 Denver, Colorado, Temperature of, 207, 210, 
 
 211. 
 Deserts, 2-7, 34, 79. 
 
 affecting climate, 4, 8, 29, 45. 
 
 describing beauty of, 175. 
 
 Dewev, Ernest, 211, 213. 
 
 Dew-falls, 123. 
 
 Dillon, Kennealy & McClure, 214. 
 
 District of the Grand Canon — area described, 
 
 177. 
 Downey, 211-214, 216, 217. 
 
 Citv, 211. 
 
 Duarte, 217. 
 
 Dutton, Captain C. E., 181, 194, 198. 
 
 Earle, W. G., 213. 
 
 Earle, W. y., 214, 215. 
 
 East San Gabriel Hotel, 127. 
 
 Eaton Canon, 130. 
 
 Egypt, 173. 
 
 El Cajon, 37, 56, 79, 111, 144. 
 
 El Capitan, 154. 
 
 Eldridge, C. P., 216. 
 
 Elm, 134. 
 
 El Monte, 216. 
 
 English Walnut, 18, 19, 34, 48, 101, 129, 
 
 134. 
 Escondido, 140, 141. 
 Eswena, 213. 
 
 Eucalvptus, 23, 48, 112, 123, 134. 
 Eye, S. H., 214. 
 
 Fan-palm, 49, 134. 
 
 Fern (Australiiin), 123, 205. 
 
 Fig, 18, 19, 34, 101, 141, 144, 147. 
 
 cultivation discussed, 34. 
 
 prices and profits, 215-217. 
 
 Flagstaff, 182, 183, 199. 
 Fleming, J P., 215. 
 Florence Hotel, 80. 
 Florence, Italv, Temperature of, 207. 
 Florv, J S., 212. 
 Fogs, 4, 8, 38, 47, 123. 
 Fort Yuma, Califoriiiii, Temperature of, 207. 
 Fosdick, H. 0., 213. 
 Foxtail, 206. 
 Franciscan Fathers, 42. 
 Franciscan missions, 24. 
 Fresno, 115, 128. 
 Frosts, 10, 19, 123. 
 
 Fruits, 9, 12, 13, 15, 18, 20, 37, 43, 46, 47, 
 96, 141, 144, 198.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 221 
 
 Fruits compared to European, 18. 
 
 cultivation and speculation discussed, 
 
 20, 93, 107, 140. 
 
 great roi^ioii for, 91. 
 
 groupeii, 18, 19, 92, 94-96, 101, 115, 
 
 ]'27. 211-217. 
 
 lauds adapted to, 37, 46, 96. 
 
 urchards, 67, 165. 
 
 rapid growth of, 115. 
 
 River.side nietiiod for, 104. 
 
 winter, 48. 
 
 Fundgation, Cost of, 124, 129. 
 Funcluil, Madeira, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Gardens, 46, 67, 147, 165. 
 
 Geraniums, 49. 
 
 Glendora, 212. 
 
 Golden Gate, 42. 
 
 Gooseberry, 205. 
 
 Government land, 93. 
 
 Grain, 12, 14, 15, 19, 23, 25, 140. 
 
 Grand Canon, 149, 178, 181. 
 
 area of district of, 177. 
 
 description of, 181, 182, 190-200. 
 
 journey to the, 182-190. 
 
 Grape.s 15, 18, 19, 92, 93, 98, 101. 
 
 diseases of, 128. 
 
 Old Mission, 128. 
 
 prices and profits of, 96. 
 
 raisin. (See Raisins.) 
 
 Grape-vines, 79, 91, 123. 
 
 on small farms, 107. 
 
 prices and profits of, 96. 
 
 Santa Aiuta, 127. 
 
 Gravback (mountain), 34, 46. 
 Great Wash fault, 178, 182. 
 Grevillea robiista, 123. 
 Guava, 19, 134. 
 Gums, 138. 
 
 Hance (guide), 198, 199. 
 
 Harvard Observatory, 130. 
 
 Hawaii Islands, 5. 
 
 Hayden, Nathaidel, 213, 215. 
 
 Helianthus, 206, 
 
 Heliotrope, 10, 41, 49. 
 
 Hesperia, 96. 
 
 Hindoo Amphitheatre, 195. 
 
 Holbrook, 183. 
 
 Honey — prices and profits of, 217. 
 
 Honeysuckle, 205. 
 
 Hood" H., 211, 213, 216. 
 
 Horses, 55, 70. 
 
 Hotel del Coronado, 29, 87. 
 
 del Monte Park, 161. 
 
 Ravmond, 79, 130, 133. 
 
 Hot Springs (Las Vegas), 163, 164. 
 Houser, J. 0., 214. 
 Houses, Suggestions on, 68. 
 Howe Bros., 212. 
 Hubbard. E. A., 212. 
 
 Hufeland, on climate and health, 52. 
 Humidity, 38, 43. 
 Huntington, Dr., 50. 
 Hurricane Ledge or Fault, 182. 
 
 Icerya purchasi, 129. 
 
 Indiana settlement, 94. 
 
 Indians, 55, 187, 188 
 
 affected by climate, 55. 
 
 converted by missionaries, 24. 
 
 longevity of, 59. 
 
 Mojave, 2, 169. 
 
 Navajos, 170, 183. 
 
 Oualapai, 188. 
 
 Pueblo, 165. 
 
 at Acamo, 165. 
 
 at Isleta, 165. 
 
 at Laguna, 165-173. 
 
 Ingo County, 34. 
 
 Inspiration Point, 150, 154. 
 
 Iris, 204. 
 
 Irrigation, 97, 117, 147, 165. 
 
 at Pasadena, 130. 
 
 at Pomona, 15, 94, 124, 211, 215. 
 
 at Redlands, 102, 104, 118. 
 
 at San Diego, 144. 
 
 at Santa Ana, 134. 
 
 by companies, 94. 
 
 by natural means, 11, 14, 37. 
 
 cost of, 98. 
 
 for apricots, berries, grapes, onions, 
 
 oranges, peaches, potatoes, prunes, vege- 
 tables, 211-217. 
 
 for orchards, 120. 
 
 for wheat, 100. 
 
 in relation to fruits and crops, 19, 99, 
 
 100, 101. 
 
 necessity of, 15, 19, 88. 
 
 results of, discussed, 12, 14, 15. 
 
 Riverside method of, 102, 104. 
 
 three methods of, 102. 
 
 Van Dyke on, 102, 103. 
 
 Isbell, J. H., 213. 
 
 Ischia, 30. 
 
 Isleta, 165. 
 
 Istlimus route, 142. 
 
 It;ily, 1, 2, 4, 18, 68, 69, 75, 87. (See Our 
 Italy.) 
 
 Ives, Lieutenant, 181. 
 
 Jacksonville, Florida, Temperature of, 207, 
 
 210, 211. 
 Japanese persimmon, 184. 
 Japan trade, 142. 
 Jarchom, Joachim F., 213. 
 Joimson, Dr. H. A., on climate, 201. 
 Johnson, P. 0., 212. 
 Josephites, 117. 
 Julian (rainfall), 48. 
 
 Kaibab Plateau, 178, 181, 182.
 
 222 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Kanab Canon, 178, 182. 
 Kanab Plateau, 178, 181, 182. 
 Kelp, 33, 161. 
 Kentucky racers, 55. 
 Kern County, 16, 94, 114. 
 Kimball, F. A., 125. 
 King River, 114. 
 
 Labor, " boom " prices of, 109. 
 
 necessity of, 108. 
 
 Ladies' Annex, 143. 
 Laguna — climate of, 174. 
 
 description of, 165-168. 
 
 Indians at, 165-173. 
 
 Lamanda Park, 215. 
 
 Land, 12, 14, 23, 147. 
 
 adapted to apricots, berries, grapes, 
 
 onions, oranges, peaches, potatoes, prunes, 
 
 vegetables, 211-217. 
 
 adapted to fruits, 97, 141. 
 
 arable, 93, 140, 142, 145. 
 
 capabilities of, 17, 91-95, 114. 
 
 converted from deserts, 94. 
 
 crops adapted to, 108. 
 
 elements constituting value of. 95. 
 
 experiments of settlers on. 111. 
 
 for farms and gardens, 107. 
 
 Government, 93. 
 
 of the Sun, 147, 202. 
 
 profits and prices of, 20, 23, 95-98, 117. 
 
 raisin, 114. 
 
 speculations in, 24, 107, 143. 
 
 La Playa, 33. 
 
 Larkspur, 205, 206. 
 
 Las riores, 140. 
 
 Lassene, Eugene, 216. 
 
 Las Vegas Hot Springs, 163, 164. 
 
 Lauber, Charles, 216. 
 
 Lee's Ferry, 199. 
 
 Lemons, i, 18, 19, 79, 93, 107, 129, 137, 144. 
 
 Leslie, T. D., 214. 
 
 Lightfoot, George, 213, 214. 
 
 Lilac, 205. 
 
 Lilies, 204, 206. 
 
 Limes, 18. 
 
 Lisbon, Portugal, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Little Colorado River, 177, 181, 182. 
 
 Little Tejunga River, 212. 
 
 Live-oaks, 49, 69, 72, 79, 127, 134, 140, 161. 
 
 Locust, 134. 
 
 Lombardy, 1. 
 
 Loney, James, 213. 
 
 Longevity at El Cajon, 56. 
 
 at San Diego, 59, 60. 
 
 climatic influence on, 56, 59, 62. 
 
 Dr. Bancroft on, 56. 
 
 Dr. Palmer on, 59, 60. 
 
 Dr. Remondino on, 52. 
 
 Dr. Winder on, 56. 
 
 Father Ubach on, 59, 62. 
 
 Hufeland on, 52. 
 
 Longevity, Philip Crossthwaite, Story of, 61. 
 Loquats, 21. 
 
 prices and profits of, 215. 
 
 Lord, L W., 213. 
 
 Lordsburg, 212. 
 
 Los Angeles, 12, 15, 16, 26, 46, 71, 76, 79, 
 
 94, 95, 97, 124, 128, 129, 133-135. 
 assessment roll and birth rate of, 
 
 136. 
 climate of, 12, 15, 26, 76, 79, 95, 
 
 124, 129, 133. 
 
 County, 211. 
 
 description of, 135, 136. 
 
 report of Chamber of Commerce 
 
 of, 207, 211. 
 
 River, 11, 99. 
 
 temperature of, 44, 207, 210, 211. 
 
 wines, 136. 
 
 Los Coronados, 2. ^ 
 
 Lupins, 205. 
 
 Maggiore, 1. 
 
 Magnolia, 41, 48, 123. 
 
 Maguey, 69. 
 
 Malta, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Manitoba, 5. 
 
 Manzanita, 205. 
 
 Maple, 134. 
 
 Marble Canon, 177. 
 
 Marguerites, 82. 
 
 Marienbad, 163. 
 
 Marigold, 205. 
 
 Mariposa (big trees), 150, 156-161, 
 
 Martinique, 48. 
 
 Mediterranean — climate of the, 37, 46, 80. 
 
 fruits and products of the, 18. 
 
 Our, 18, 46. 
 
 Mentone, 6. 
 
 temperature of, 207, 208. 
 
 Merjced River, 150, 155. 
 Meserve plantation, 124. 
 Metcalf, M., 216. 
 Methusaleh of trees, 158. 
 Mexican Gulf, 18. 
 
 ranch house, 67. 
 
 Mexico, 2, 11, 30, 33, 40, 47. 
 
 small-pox from, 64. 
 
 Miller, Jacob, 216. 
 
 Mimulus, 205. 
 
 Minerals, 142. 
 
 Minneapolis, Minnesota, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Mint, 205, 206. 
 
 Mirror Lake, 154. 
 
 Mission Caiion, 75. 
 
 of San Diego, 60. 
 
 of San Tomas, 60. 
 
 Mississippi Valley, 38. 
 Modjeska, Madame, 134. 
 Moisture in relation to health, 201. 
 Mojave Desert, 2, 7. 
 Indians, 7, 169.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 223 
 
 Montecito (Santa Barbara), 123. 
 Monterey, 42, 47, 49, 72, 149. 
 cypress, 82, 130. 
 
 description of, 1(31, 162. 
 
 Monte Vista, 214. 
 Montezuma, 164. 
 
 Hotel, 163. 
 
 Monticello, 75. 
 Mormons, 117. 
 Morning-glory, 205. 
 Moulton, M. B., 213. 
 Mount Whitney, 34. 
 
 Wilson, iso. 
 
 Murillo — pictures hv, 26. 
 Mustard stalks, 202. 
 Miitterlager, 163. 
 
 Naples, 34. 
 
 Nassau, Bahama Islands, Temperature of, 
 
 207. 
 National City, 33, 79, 1 25, 144. 
 
 Soldiers' Home, 76. 
 
 Navajo Indians, 170, 183 
 
 Mountains, 196. 
 
 NayJor, E. P., 212. 
 Neiili Bay, 47. 76. 
 Nebraska, 175. 
 Nectarines, 19, 92. 
 
 prices and profits of, 215. 
 
 Nevadas, 34, 150. 
 
 New Me.xico, 79, 164, 173. 
 
 climate of, 164. 
 
 desert of, 149. 
 
 scenery of, 163-165. 
 
 New Orleans, Louisiana, Temperature of, 
 
 207, 210, 211. 
 Newport, Rhode Island, Temperature of, 
 
 210, 211. 
 New York, N. Y., Temperature of, 207, 210, 
 
 211. 
 Niagara Fulls, 153, 197. 
 Nice, 207. 
 Nightshade, 206. 
 Norris, Benjamin, 214. 
 Northern Africa, 69. 
 
 Arizona, 177. 
 
 Pomona, 212. 
 
 Nuts, 18, 138. 
 
 Oats, 206. 
 
 O'Connor, P., 211, 214. 
 Old Baldv Mountain, 4. 
 Olives, 1,' 18, 19, 24, 37, 115, 129, 134, 147, 
 162. 
 
 at Pomona, 125. 
 
 at Santa Barbara, 37._ 
 
 Cooper on, 125. 
 
 ■ cultivation of, discussed, 19, 37, 125. 
 
 future of, 125, 126. 
 
 Mission, 125, 126. 
 
 prices and profits of, 126. 
 
 Onions — prices and profits of, 216. 
 Ontario, 15, 124. 
 Orange City, 46. 
 
 description of, 134. 
 
 County, 16, 46, 79, 111, 134. 
 
 Oranges, 10, 11, 15, 16, 18, 19, 25, 66. 79, 
 
 93, 101, 107, 108, 115, 123, 129, 138, 144. 
 
 as resource, 91. 
 
 at Redlands, 119. 
 
 cost of land for, 97. 
 
 diseases and care of, 101, 129, 137. 
 
 groves, 20, 118, 123, 127. 
 
 irrigation for, 213. 
 
 prices and profits of, 97, 107, 119, 120, 
 
 124, 213, 215. 
 
 Riverside as centre, 119. 
 
 varieties of, 120, 123. 
 
 Orchards, 20, 24, 41, 144, 147. 
 
 Orchids, 205. 
 
 Orthocarpus, 204. 
 
 Otay, 145. 
 
 Ottoman Amphitheatre, 195. 
 
 Oualapai Indians, 188. 
 
 Our Italy, Description of, 18. 
 
 Pacific, 2-5, 8, 16, 29, 58, 75, 142, 165, 198. 
 
 trade, 142. 
 
 Painted Desert, 185, 186. 
 
 Palmer, Dr. Edward, 59, 60. 
 
 Palms, 41, 42, 67, 69, 85, 123, 130, 134. 
 
 date, 42, 49, 69, 85. 
 
 fan, 49. 
 
 royal, 55, 85. 
 
 Paria Plateau, 178. 
 
 Pasadena, 15, 67, 94, 95, 124, ISO. 
 
 Board of Trade, 207. 
 
 climate, 130. 
 
 description of, 130-134. 
 
 temperature of, 133, 207. 
 
 trees of, 134. 
 
 Passion-vine, 49. 
 
 Pau, France, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Peach, 92, 101, 182, 211. 
 
 prices and profits of, 211, 212, 215. 
 
 Peachblow Mountain, 185. 
 Pea-nuts — [)rices and profits of, 216. 
 Pears — prices and profits of, 215. 
 Pensacola, Florida, Temperature of, 210, 21L 
 Penstemon, 205. 
 Pepper, 48, 67, 123, 134. 
 
 prices and profits of, 216. 
 
 Peruvians, 169. 
 
 Pineapple, 19. 
 
 Pines,- 42, 72, 134, 185, 188-190. 
 
 spruce, 182. 
 
 sugar, 42, 150, 157. 
 
 Pink Cliffs, 178. 
 Plums, 92. 
 
 prices and profits of, 215. 
 
 Point Arguilles, 4. 
 
 Conception, 2-4, 47, 72, 137.
 
 224 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Point Loma, 8, 30, 33, 81. 
 
 . Sublime, 181, 198. 
 
 Vincent, 76. 
 
 Pomegranate, 19, 134. 
 
 Pomona, 15, 94, 95, 124, 211-215. 
 
 description of, 124. 
 
 irrij^ation at, 15, 94, 95, 124, 211-215. 
 
 land at, 94. 
 
 olives at, 125. 
 
 temperature of, 7, 44. 
 
 Poplar, 134. 
 Poppy, 204-206. 
 Portuguese hamlet, 33. 
 Potatoes, 14. 
 
 prices and profits of, 215. 
 
 Powell, Major J. W., 181. 
 Profitable products discussed, 19. 
 Prometheus Unbound, 178. 
 Prunes, 18, 93, 96, 115. 
 
 prices and profits of, 212, 213, 215. 
 
 Pueblo Indians, 165-li33. 
 
 Puenta, 124. 
 
 Paget Sound, 47. 
 
 Pumpkins — prices and profits of, 216. 
 
 Qdail, 8, 140. 
 
 Rabbits, 140. 
 
 Rain, 12, 38, 47, 48, 49, 123, 138, 202, 203, 
 206. 
 
 at Julian, Los Angeles, Monterey, Neali 
 
 Bay, Point Conception, Riverside, Sant-i 
 Cruz, San Diego, San Jacinto, 47, 202. 
 
 in relation to healtli, 202. 
 
 on deserts described, 187. 
 
 season for, 47. 
 
 Rainbow Fall, 154. 
 
 Raisin grape, 144. 
 
 Raisins, 18, 19, 93, 108, 136. 
 
 at Los Angeles, 136. 
 
 at Redlands, 119. 
 
 curing, 107. 
 
 Malaga, 37. 
 
 prices and profits of, 96, 114, 115. 
 
 Ranchito, 212. 
 
 Raspberries — prices and profits of, 214. 
 
 Raymond Hotel, 133, 149. 
 
 Red Horse Well, 186, 187. 
 
 Redlands, 15, 95-97, 124. 
 
 centre for oranges, 119. 
 
 description of, 118, 121-123. 
 
 ■ history of growth of, 118. 
 
 irrigation of, 102-104, 118. 
 
 resources of, 120. 
 
 — — return on fruits, 97, 98, 124. 
 
 Redondo, 3. 
 
 Beach, 12. 
 
 description of, 76. 
 
 Red Wall limestone, 195. 
 
 Redwood, 134. 
 
 Remondino, Dr., 40, 52, 56, 59, 60. 
 
 Remondino, Dr.,on health, 62. 
 
 on horses, 55, 61. 
 
 on longevity, 40, 61. 
 
 Rhorer, George, 212. 
 Rio Grande del Norte, 165. 
 Rio Puerco, 165. 
 Rivera, 213, 215. 
 Riverside, 15, 95, 124. 
 
 centre of orange growth, 119, 
 
 description of, 123-127. 
 
 growth in resources, 1 20. 
 
 irrigation at, 102-104. 
 
 price of land, 95-98. 
 
 return on fruits, 97, 98, 124. 
 
 Riviera, Italy, Temperature of, 7, 45, 208. 
 
 Roberts, Oliver E., 216. 
 
 Rock-rose, 204. 
 
 Rome, Italy, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Roscoe Station, 214. 
 
 Rose, H. H., 211. 
 
 Roses, 41, 49, 66, 138, 206. 
 
 Royal palms, 85. 
 
 Sacramento, California, Temperature of, 20?= 
 
 Sages, 202, 205. 
 
 Sahara, 6. 
 
 San Antonio, Texas, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 San Bernardino, 4, 15-17, 33, 34, 118. 
 
 description of, 116, 117. 
 
 land, prices of, 96, 117. 
 
 Mountain, 4, 7. 
 
 River, 11. 
 
 temperature at, 6, S3, 44, 46, 210, 
 
 211. 
 San Diego, 2, 9, 15, 24, 26, 34, 42, 43, 47, 
 
 62, 72, 79, 80, 94. 
 
 as a health resort, 50. 
 
 Chamber of Commerce, 143. 
 
 climate of, 49, 50. 
 
 commercial possibilities of, 142. 
 
 converted lands, 94. 
 
 description of, 29-34, 79-81, 
 
 142-145 
 
 fruits, 37, 97. 
 
 Land and Farm Company, 208. 
 
 longevity at, 60. 
 
 markets, 43. 
 
 mission, 24, 60. 
 
 rainfall at, 47, 202. 
 
 recreations at, 41, 71. 
 
 temperature of, 30, 44, 49, 50, 
 
 207, 210, 211. 
 
 Bay, 2, 3. 
 
 County, 4, 6, 16, 34. 
 
 descTiption of, 140-145. 
 
 River, 4, 6, 11, 16, 34. 
 
 San P>ancisco, 2, 42, 142. 
 
 Mountain, 182, 185, 194, 200. 
 
 River, 185. 
 
 temperature at, 210, 211. 
 
 San Gabriel, 4, 15, 26, 72, 94, 213.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 225 
 
 San Gabriel, description of, 124-128. 
 
 mis:;ion, 20. 
 
 Mountain, 4, 5. 
 
 River, 11. 
 
 Viillev, 72, 94. 
 
 San Jacinto Range, 4, 17, 33, 4G, 118. 
 
 rain at, 48. 
 
 San Joaquin, V, 37, 114. 
 San Juan, 177. 
 
 Capristano, 79. 
 
 San Jose, 1 24. 
 
 San Luis Obispo, 10. 
 
 River, 11. 
 
 San Mateo Canon, 118. 
 
 San Miguel, 33. 
 
 San Nicolas, 2. 
 
 San Pedro, 3, 135. 
 
 San Remo, Temperature of, 208. 
 
 Santa Ana, 2, 13, 72, 94, 99, 118. 
 
 description of, 124. 
 
 • Mountain, 134. 
 
 ■ River, 11, 79, 134. 
 
 • Township, 15, 127, 211. 
 
 Yallev, 2, 72, 213. 
 
 Santa Barbara, 2, 3, 9, 37, 07. 
 
 at Montecito, 123. 
 
 • Channel, 2, 3. 
 
 County, 10. 
 
 ■ description of, 72, 137, 138. 
 
 fruits, 37, 129. 
 
 Islatid, 2, 3. 
 
 Mountain, 17. 
 
 ■ olives, 37, 125. 
 
 temperattne of, 29, 44, 207. 
 
 Santa Catalina, 2, 134. 
 Santa Clara, 43, 138. 
 
 River, 11. 
 
 Santa Clemente, 2. 
 Santa Cruz, 2, 47, 157. 
 
 Canaries, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Santa Fe line, 117, 119, 103, 165, 182. 
 
 New Mexico, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 Santa Margarita River, 11. 
 Santa Miguel, 2. 
 Santa Monica, 3. 
 
 description of, 76. 
 
 irrigation at, 134. 
 
 Santa Rosa, 2, 140. 
 Santa Ynes, 4, 72. 
 Santiago, 46. 
 
 Canon, 134. 
 
 San Tomas mission, 60. 
 
 Savannah, 216. 
 
 Sea- lions, 30, 161. 
 
 Seasons, 6, 10, 37, 38, 43, 65, 66, 81. 
 
 description of the, 65, 66. 
 
 Van Dyke on the, 202-206. 
 
 Sequoia semper virena^ 157. 
 Sequoiafi gigantea, 157, 158. 
 Serra, Father Junipero, 24. 
 Serrano, Don Antonio, 61, 62. 
 
 15 
 
 Sheavwitz Plateau, 1 78. 
 
 Sheep, 12, 200. 
 
 Shiva's Temple, 195. 
 
 Shooting-star, 203. 
 
 Sicily, 18, 69. 
 
 Sierra Madre, 4, 1 5, 37, 42, 46, 71, 94, 114,118. 
 
 • Villa, 130. 
 
 Sierra Nevada, 2, 3. 
 
 Sierras, 153, 161. 
 
 Signal Service Observer, 207. 
 
 Silene, 204. 
 
 Smith, F. D., 212-215. 
 
 F M., 212. 
 
 T. D., 214. 
 
 Smithsonian Institution, 59. 
 
 Snap-dragon, 205. 
 
 Sorrel, 204. 
 
 Soi-rento, 132. 
 
 Southern California, 2-4, 16. 
 
 climate of, 29, 38, 45, 55, 56, 59, 
 
 62, 130. 
 
 commerce of, 18. 
 
 compared to Italy, 46. 
 
 counties of, 16. 
 
 historv of, 24, 25. 
 
 " Our"ltaly," 18, 46. 
 
 pride of nations, the, 26. 
 
 rainy seasons in. (See Rain.) 
 
 rapid growth of fruits in, 115. 
 
 recreations of, 09-71. 
 
 temperature of, 43, 133. (See 
 
 Temperature.) 
 
 Italy, 69, 147. 
 
 Pac'itic Railroad, 149. 
 
 Utah, 177. 
 
 South Pasadena, 213, 214. 
 
 Riverside, 217. 
 
 Spain, 149. 
 
 Spalding, W. A., 212, 215. 
 
 Spanish adventurers, 24, 30. 
 
 Spruce-pine, 182. 
 
 St. Augustine, Florida, Temperature of, 207 
 
 St. Michael, Azores, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 St. Paul, Minnesota, Temperature of, 207. 
 
 State Commission, 156. 
 
 Stewart, James, 217. 
 
 Stone, 142. 
 
 Strawberries, 10. 
 
 prices and profits of, 214. 
 
 Stub, C. C, 216. 
 Sugar-pine, 150, 157. 
 Sumach. 205. 
 Sunset Mountain, 185. 
 Sweetlrrier, 206. 
 Sweetwater Dam, 144. 
 Switzerland, 149. 
 Sycamore, 79, 134. 
 
 Table Mountain, 33. 
 
 Tangier, 45. 
 
 Temperature, 4, 5, 29, 37, 38.
 
 226 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Temperature compared to European, 45. 
 
 discussed, 43, 45. 
 
 of Coronado Beach, 87. 
 
 of Los Angeles, 44, 207, 210, 211. 
 
 of Monterey, 72. 
 
 of Pasadena, 13, 207. 
 
 of Pomona, 44. 
 
 of San Bernardino, 6, 33, 44, 46, 210, 
 
 211. 
 
 of San Diego, 30, 44, 49, 50, 210, 211. 
 
 of Santa Barbara, 29, 44, 207. 
 
 relation of, to health, 201. 
 
 statistics, 44, 45, 72. 
 
 statistics compared, 207, 208, 210, 211. 
 
 Van Dyke on, 50. 
 
 Temecula Caiion, 140. 
 
 Temescal Caiion, 217. 
 
 The Rockies, 10. 
 
 Thistle, 205. 
 
 Thompson, E. R., 211. 
 
 Tia Juana River, 11, 30, 145. 
 
 Tiger-lily, 206. 
 
 Tin, 217. 
 
 Tomatoes — prices and profits of, 216. 
 
 Toplitz waters, 163. 
 
 Toroweap Vallev, 182. 
 
 Trees, 48, 69, 130, 134, 138, 147, 156, 198. 
 
 description of, 150, 156-161. 
 
 region of Mariposa big, 156. 
 
 Tulip, 204. 
 Tustin City, 134. 
 
 Ubach, Father A. D., 59, 60, 62. 
 Uinkaret Plateau, 178. 
 Umbrella-tree, 69, 134. 
 University Heights, 80, 81. 
 Utali, 177, 178, 199. 
 
 Vail, Hugh D., 209. 
 
 Van Dyke, Theodore S., 4, 140, 202. 
 
 on climate, 6, 78. 
 
 on floral procession and seasons, 202- 
 
 206. 
 
 on growth in population, 145. 
 
 on irrigation, 102, 103. 
 
 on temperature, 50. 
 
 Van Dyke, Theodore S., on winds, 8, 203. 
 Vedolia car(/i««fo (Australian lady-bug), 129. 
 Vegetables, 112, 216. 
 Ventura, 16, 137. 
 Vermilion Clitfs, 178. 
 Vernon, 213, 215. 
 
 Jacob, 216. 
 
 Vesuvius, 33. 
 
 Vetch, 203. 
 
 Vines, 20, 23-25, 67, 79, 91, 107, 123, 128, 
 
 144, 147. 
 Violets, 203. 
 
 Visalia, California, Temperature of, 207. 
 Vishnu's Temple, 196. 
 Vulcan's Throne, 196, 
 
 Wages, " Boom," 109. 
 Walnut Creek Canon, 183. 
 Walnuts, 14, 19, 115. 
 
 prices and profits of, 215. 
 
 Water, 186. 
 
 how measured, 98. 
 
 price of, 97, 98. 
 
 Watermelons — prices and profits of, 216. 
 
 Wawona, 150. 
 
 Wells, 186. 
 
 Wheat, 2, 5, 14, 25, 138. 
 
 affected bv irrigation, 100. 
 
 White Cliffs, 178. 
 Wild Oats, 202. 
 Williams, 182. 
 Willow, 134. 
 
 Winder, Dr. W. A., on longevitv, 56. 
 Winds, 4, 6, 8, 29, 30, 38, 47, 70, 78, 123, 
 184, 203. 
 
 relation of, to health, 201. 
 
 Van Dvke on, 8, 203. 
 
 Wine, 20, 92, 93, 107, 136, 137. 
 Winkler, Mrs., 216. 
 Wood, P. K., 216. 
 
 YosEMiTE, 150, 153, 154, 161, 197. 
 
 description of, 149-156. 
 
 Yucca, 205. 
 
 ZuNis, 165. 
 
 THE END.
 
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 the Slave-trade, organized by Ismail, Khedive op Egypt. By Sir Samuel White 
 Baker, Pasha, M.A., F.R.S., F.R.G.S., Major-general of the Ottoman Empire, late 
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 and upwards of fifty full-page Illustrations by Zwecker and Durand, Svo, Cloth, 
 $5 00 ; Half Calf, $7 25.
 
 Valuable Works of Travel and Adventure. 
 
 Schliemann's Ilios. 
 
 Ilios, the City and Country of the Trojans. The Results of Researches and Dis- 
 coveries on the Site of Troy and Throughout tlie Troad in the years 1871-'72- 
 "73-"78-"79 ; including an Autobiography of the Author. By Dr. Hknry Scrlie- 
 MANN, F.S.A., F.R.I. British Architects; Author of "Troy and its Remains," 
 " Mycenae," &c. With a Preface, Appendices, and Notes V)y Professor.-* Rudolf Yir- 
 chow, Max Miiller, A. H. Sayce, J. P. Mahaffy, H. Brugseh-Bey, P. Asclierson, M. 
 A. Postolaccas, M. E. Burnouf, Mr. F. Calvert, and Mr. A. J. Duffield. With Maps, 
 Plans, and about 1800 Illustrations. Imperial 8vo, Cloth, $7 50; Half Morocco, 
 $10 00. 
 
 Schliemann's Troja. 
 
 Troja. Results of the Latest Researches and Discoveries on the Site of Homer's 
 Troy, and in the Heroic Tumuli ard other Sites, made in the year 1882, and a 
 Narrative of a Journey in the Troad in 1881. By Dr. Hknrt Schliemann, Author 
 of "Ilios," &c. Preface by Professor A. H. Sayce. With 150 Wood-cuts and 4 
 Maps and Plans. 8vo, Cloth, $5 00; Half Morocco, $7 50. 
 
 Thomson's Malacca, Indo-China, and China. 
 
 The Straits of Malacca, Iiido-Cliina, and China ; or. Ten Years' Travels, Advent- 
 ures, and Residence Abroad. By J. Thomson. With over Sixty Illustrations. 
 Svo, Cloth, $4 00. 
 
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 The Cruise of Her Majesty's Ship " Challenger." Voyages over many Seas, 
 Scenes in many Lands. By W. J. J. Spry, R.N. With Maps and Illustrations. 
 Crown 8vo, Cloth, $2 00. 
 
 Cameron's Across Africa. 
 
 Across Africa. By Verney Lovett Cameron, C.B., D.C.L., Commander Royal 
 Navy, &c. With a Map and Numerous Illustrations. Svo, Cloth, $5 00. 
 
 Vambery's Central Asia. 
 
 Travels in Central Asia : being the Account of a Journey from Teheran across 
 the Turkoman Desert, on the Eastern Shore of the Caspian, to Khiva, Bokhara, 
 and Samarcand, performed in the year 1863. By Arminips Vamdery, Member 
 of the Hungarian Academy of Pesth, Vjy whom he was sent on this Scientific Mis- 
 sion. With Map and Wood-cuts. 8vo, Cloth, $4 50; Half Calf, $6 75. 
 
 MacG-ahan's Campaigning on the Oxus. 
 
 Campaigning on the Oxus and the Fall of Khiva. By J. A. MacGahan. With 
 Map and Illustrations. 8vo, Cloth, $3 50. 
 
 Forbes's "Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago. 
 
 A Naturalist's Wanderings in the Eastern Archipelago. A Narrative of Travel 
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 many Illustrations and Colored Maps. Svo, Ornamental Cloth, $5 00. 
 
 Published bt HARPER & BROTHERS, New York. 
 
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