208 MULE-HUNTING EXPEDITION. 



related such wonderful stories, that it seemed 

 to me we had hardly left the ' Halfway House ' 

 ere we rattled under a grove of trees completely 

 shutting out the fading light, and pulled up with 

 a sudden jerk, that well-nigh pitched me over the 

 mustangs. 'Guess we've made it, Cap'en; this 

 here's the manager's.' 



Giving my letters of introduction to Mr. 

 Young, a hospitable invitation to be his guest 

 was readily accepted. I cannot help devoting a 

 line to the praise of a house most enjoyable in its 

 minutest details, with a host and hostess it re- 

 freshes one's heart to recall to memory. 



The lower village of Almaden consists of a 

 long row of very pretty cottages, the residences 

 of the workmen employed in smelting the ore ; 

 each cottage was completely buried with honey- 

 suckle and creeping roses ; the gardens in front 

 filled with flowers, and at the back with vege- 

 tables and fruit. A small stream of water, clear 

 and cold, ripples past the frontage, brought from 

 a mountain-burn that runs swiftly at the back, 

 a barrier dividing the gardens from the sur- 

 rounding hills. An avenue of trees leads from 

 the cottages to the spacious brick buildings used 

 for smelting. 



The discovery of these fabulously rich mines of 



