To the Base of Shasta. 291 



tieaded our company on the drive through the grounds about his residence 

 and through the long avenues separating orchard from orchard, until the 

 eye was actually weary with measuring their extent. The ranch produces 

 almost every variety of fruits, but the stone fruits are predominant. 



I believe that General Bidwell lays no stress upon producing oranges or 

 any of the genus citrus ; but you should see his apricots, and plums, and 

 peaches, and French prunes, and cherries, and figs, and English walnuts, et 

 id omne genus ad infinitum. These are the largest and finest trees that I 

 saw in California. Of all the positions which the private citizen may occupy, 

 I know of none in the limits of my observation which can quite compare in 

 independence and real dignity with that of this leading citizen of Chico. 

 While sweeping along through one of his lanes, bordered with fruit trees, 

 the General pointed out to us one of his cherry trees which, in the summer 

 of 1887, yielded him 1,750 pounds of cherries! 



On one part of the great ranch is a colony of civilized Indians. They 

 are the descendants of those Diggers who have been regarded as among the 

 least promising of all the Indian tribes. Here, however, their character and 

 circumstances are greatly changed. They are polite, well informed and 

 fairly educated. Their village has- its school-house and its church ; and I 

 should judge that the relations between them and the General are most 

 amicable and mutually desired. One of the leading red men of the settle- 

 ment rode with us, in our vehicle, about the ranch. On our course I noticed 

 ■a fine establishment of bees in a little glade among the orchards. In those 

 parts of California which we visited the apiary was more rare than I had 

 expected, and the sight of the well-arranged colonies in General Bidwell's 

 grounds was delightful to all philapians, of whom the writer claims to be one. 



The city of Chico is a credit to this part of the Sacramento valley. It is 

 a delightful place as we saw it. The country is level as a floor. The soil is 

 dark and rich and deep. There is an appearance of enterprise. Our whole 

 out drive, it is true, was within the limits of the Bidwell ranch; but when it 

 is remembered that this of itself covers almost exactly the area of one of our 

 Middle-State civil townships of thirty-six sections, it will not surprise that 

 we did not see beyond it. On our return through the town to the station 

 we were again greeted by the great throng there assembled, who, with 

 music, and waving handkerchiefs, and ringing cheers, bade us adieu as we 

 steamed away on our voyage. 



Late in the afternoon of this day we arrived at the little town of Vina. 

 Perhaps the name village might better define it. Indeed, we might have 

 run through it without noticing the station, but in that event we should 

 have passed without heed one of the most interesting places in Upper Cali- 

 fornia. It is made so by the fact that here is situated the great vineyard of 

 Senator Leland Stanford, said to be the largest in the world. It contains in 

 a single body 3,575 acres. If my computation was correct, the vines num- 

 ber 2,860,000. These figures convey no adequate impression of the extent 

 of this marvel among the vineyards. The grapes are of the wine-producing 



