"Wing."—Ancient Indian Women.—Pink Flowering Currant and Humming-Birds.—"Ah Sing." 151

CHAPTER XI.

Rocky-mountain Region.—Railroad from Columbia River to Puget Sound.—Mountain Changes.—Mixture of Nationalities.—Journey to Coos Bay, Oregon.—Mountain Cañon.—A Branch of the Coquille.—Empire City.—Myrtle Grove.—Yaquina.—Genial Dwellers in the Woods.—Our Unknown Neighbor.—Whales.—Pet Seal and Eagle.—A Mourning Mother.—Visit from Yeomans. 165

CHAPTER XII.

Puget Sound to San Francisco.—A Model Vessel.—The Captain's Relation to his Men.—Rough Water.—Beauty of the Sea.—Golden-Gate Entrance.—San Francisco Streets.—Santa Barbara.—Its Invalids.—Our Spanish Neighbors.—The Mountains and the Bay.—Kelp.—Old Mission.—A Simoom.—The Channel Islands.—A New Type of Chinamen.—An Old Spanish House. 182

CHAPTER XIII.

Our Aerie.—The Bay and the Hills.—The Little Gnome.—Earthquake.—Temporary Residents.—The Trade-Wind.—Seal-Rocks.—Farallon Islands.—Exhilarating Air.—Approach of Summer.—Centennial Procession.—Suicides.—Mission Dolores.—Father Pedro Font and his Expedition.—The Mission Indians.—Chinese Feast of the Dead.—Curious Weather. 199

CHAPTER XIV.

Quong.—His Protégé.—His Peace-Offering.—The Chinese and their Grandmothers.—Ancient Ideas.—Irish, French, and Spanish Chinamen.—Chinese Ingenuity.—Hostility against the Chinese.—Their Proclamations.—Discriminations against them.—Their Evasion of the Law.—Their Perseverance against all Obstacles.—Their Reverence for their Ancestors, and Fear of the Dead.—Their Medical Knowledge.—Their Belief in the Future.—Their Curious Festivals.—Indian Names for the Months.—Resemblance between the Indians and Chinese.—Their Superstitions. 220

CHAPTER XV.

Chun Fa's Funeral.—Alameda.—Gophers and Lizards.—Poison Oak.—Sturdy Trees.—Baby Lizards.—Old Alameda.—Emperor Norton.—California Generosity.—The Dead Newsboy.—Anniversary of the Goddess Kum Fa.—Chinese Regard for the Moon and Flowers.—A Shin Worshipper. 242

LIFE AT PUGET SOUND.

I.

Atlantic Ocean, May 26, 1865.

It is a great experience to feel the loneliness of the sea,—to see the whole circle of the heavens, and nothing under it but the rising and falling water, from morning till night, day after day.

The first night we were out the porpoises came up at twilight, and sported round the vessel. I saw some sea-birds that seemed to be playing,—running and sliding on the green, glassy waves. In the wake of the vessel were most beautiful changing colors. Little Nelly S. sat with us to watch the phosphorescence. She said, "The stars in the sea call to me, with little fine voices, 'Nelly, Nelly, are you alive?'"

May 27, 1865.

We have had our first sight of land,—Mariguana, a coral island, one of the Bahamas. Every one stood in silence to see it, it was so beautiful. The spray dashed so high, that, as it fell, we at first took it for streams and cascades. It was just at sunrise; and we cast longing looks at the soft green hills, bathed in light. Now it is gone, and we have only the wide ocean again. But a new color has appeared in the water,—a purplish pink, which looks very tropical; and there are blotches of yellow seaweed. Some of it caught in the wheel, and stopped it. The sailors drew it up, and gave it to the children to taste. It was like a little fruit, and they say the birds eat it.

The sea is growing quite rough. I was thinking of being a little afraid, the vessel plunged so; but Mother Cary's chickens came out, and I thought I might as well consider myself as one of them, and not in any more danger than they are.

Caribbean Sea, May 28, 1865.

We have had a great experience of really rough weather. The spray dashed over the deck, and only the hardiest could keep up. Any one who tried to move was thrown off his feet. Preparations were made for divine service by lashing two boxes together in the middle of the deck, and spreading a flag over them. It was conducted by a Scotch Presbyterian minister. As he began his prayer, he received quite an addition to his congregation, in a flock of great birds, that appeared on my side of the vessel. They wheeled round, and settled down softly together. I do not know what they are, but suppose they are gulls of some kind. They have long, narrow wings, brown, with a little black, and snow-white underneath. I am half inclined to envy these wild, soulless creatures, that know no fear.

Roncador Reef, June 5, 1865.

On Tuesday morning, May 30, between three and four o'clock, we were awakened by the sharp stroke of the engine-bell, a deep grinding sound, and the sudden stopping of the vessel. We knew that we had not arrived at our port of destination, and felt instinctively that something extraordinary had happened. For a moment all was silence; then inquiries arose from all sides, as to what was the matter. The engine seemed to be in a great state of commotion; and the vessel began to writhe with a heavy, laborious movement, as if attempting to free herself from the grasp of some monster. We dressed hastily, and went into the cabin, where we found a good many of the passengers, and learned that the vessel had struck on a coral-reef. We put on life-preservers, and sat waiting until daylight, expecting every moment the vessel would split. As soon as it was light enough, we went upon deck, and saw the sailors cut away the masts and smoke-stacks, which went over the side of the ship. The water dashed over the deck, so that we were obliged to go below. It seemed there as if we were under the ocean, with the water breaking over our heads. Chandeliers, glasses, and other movable articles were crashing together around us. The cabin was filled with people, quietly sitting, ready for they knew not what. But among all the seven hundred passengers there was no shrieking nor crying nor groaning, except from the little children, who were disturbed by the noise and discomfort. How well they met the expectation of death! Faces