184 THE RAISIN INDUSTRY. 



covered with their spring carpet of flowers in the colors of the rain- 

 bow, yellow, white, blue, violet, red and shades of each, and dotted 

 over with the new settlers' homes, freshly built and freshly painted, 

 what more lovely view could we wish, a sight of beauty and of plenty. 

 As we drive back to town, we are more than at first impressed with the 

 lay of the land. The surface is level and without hills or knolls, but 

 is cut through by many natural channels or creeks from fifteen to twenty 

 feet deep, insuring a natural drainage, invaluable in a country where 

 irrigation is required. 



The soil in this part of Merced county appears to be made up entirely 

 of alluvial deposits from the various creeks which in winter irrigate the 

 plains with their natural overflow. The largest of these creeks is Bear 

 creek, its deep channel resembling rather an irrigation ditch constructed 

 on the latest engineering principles than a natural stream. Its banks 

 are even and slanting, while its bed is deep below the surface. 



But our time to stay was short. We have left Merced and many 

 smaller towns behind us, crossed many more dry streams, and passed 

 the large vineyards at Minturn, where sherry and port of excellent 

 quality are made. We have again crossed the main channel of the 

 tipper San Joaquin, not far from where it emerges from the Sierra 

 Nevada, its silvery waters winding their way over the thirsty plains 

 between steep and barren banks. We have crossed a few irrigating 

 ditches full to overflowing with water, and see a few orchards and 

 vineyards with their bright green scattered about on the yellow plains. 

 There is suddenly a general stir in the cars, hats and bundles are 

 taken down from the racks, most of the passengers prepare to move, 

 the locomotive whistles, houses and trees are seen on both sides 

 through the car windows, the train comes to a standstill, there is a 

 hum of voices, a waiting crowd swarms around the cars, a throng 

 of people pushes in, and another throng puches out. We are among 

 the latter, as we are now in Fresno, the largest raisin center on the 

 . continent. 



Fresno, as seen from the railroad station, is not as inviting as it 

 might be, and the thousands of travelers who pass by on the cars, 



\J headed farther south, can judge but little of the town and the district 

 behind it. The country is so level, that the only way to get a good 

 . view of the country is to ascend some elevated building, the court- 

 house being the highest, and through its location the best suited 



I building for the purpose. The early forenoon, before the noonday 

 sun has acquired its full power, is the best time for this. Once up 

 there, the view is decidedly magnificent, and more extensive than we 

 had ever expected while below. Under us lies a lovely park of trees, 

 umbrella, elm, locust and fan palms, covering about four blocks. 

 From it stretch the regular streets in all directions, lined by cottages 

 as well as with costly dwelling-houses, shaded with stately trees of 

 various kinds. The business portion of the town presents itself par- 

 ticularly well, large and costly hotels, with comforts that the tired 

 travelers enjoy so much, imposing bank blocks of brick and stone, 

 with towers and ornamental roofs, solid structures with continuous 

 lines of stores, etc., mark this part of town. For a mile in every 



