To the Base of Shasta. 293- 



yet, but declaring herself, with great emphasis, to be in the line of the suc- 

 cession, aye, to be first in the succession of great places. At the eastermost 

 end of the principal cross street is a rise, toward which the straggling tour- 

 ists took their way at sunrise. They went thither to get a view of Shasta. His 

 place yonder above the mountains is plainly visible, but the giant himself — 

 ah ! miserable misfortune for us to have it so — has this morning pulled his 

 cowl of clouds around his head and shoulders, and will not be seen. 



S'l with the morning we turn our faces to the south, from this upper 

 end of the Sacramento valley, and begin our voyage of return. Only two 

 stops are contemplated now until we shall reach San Francisco. A deputa- 

 tion from the town of Red Bluff and another from Woodland had joined us, 

 to urge our stopping with them on our way. Red Bluff is similarly situated 

 to the other towns already described. It is also similar in appearance, in re- 

 sources and in promise. It has its things to boast of, and its boom. We 

 were received with the greatest cordiality, and the speaker who addressed 

 us from a hack did himself honor, and closed by proposing to ride with the 

 handsomest lady which the Society could furnish him. She was promptly 

 brought forth, and her name was — ? Her residence ? The writer and his 

 immediate companions had the pleasure of being taken up by Andrew 

 Knetzer, Esq., an old-time Hoosier and a Forty-niner. Away we went 

 through the town suburbs, across the level plain, somewhat sandy in this re- 

 gion, and slightly reddened, as I supposed, with protoxide of iron. It is an 

 agricultural and fruit-growing region, rich enough to satisfy, and in a state 

 of progress and development. Our stay was brief, as our schedule required 

 our presence at Woodland by the middle of the afternoon. So, with the 

 usual hurry and farewells, we are again aboard, and rapidly whirling on. 



I will venture to send the greetings of the Society to the deputy of 

 Woodland, who came to meet us, Mr. W. M. Coward. I do so not more as a 

 compliment to the most magnificent physique I saw in California than as a 

 word of respect for those excellent qualities of mind and heart without 

 which physical manhood is of little use. At Woodland we had our last ban- 

 quet in the Sacramento valley. It was a good one, too, and was administered 

 with wholesale generosity. I will not enlarge upon the promise of the young 

 city, or the fruitfulness of the country round about. On these topics the 

 narrative, I fear, has already dropped into repetition. But Woodland is as 

 good and pleasant as the rest. Our local excursion carried us to the inter- 

 esting ranch of Mr. R. B. Blowers, who gave us an instructive experience in 

 the matter of irrigation. Woodland's specialty, as she claims, is her abun- 

 dance of water at a very limited depth underground. From fifteen to thirty 

 feet generally brings the digger to a supply which might well satisfy old 

 Aquarius himself. It is on this line that Mr. Blowers has supplied his ad- 

 mirable ranch with water for irrigation. His well was certainly well enough, 

 for the purpose — the biggest and most copious lever sxw. Near by were the 

 engine-house and a tremendous double pump, and yonder, at the distance of 

 thirty yards, was the issue pipe, about fourteen inches in diameter ; turned 



