506 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



June 



was here last. Doesn't il make a pretty lane? 

 Such lovely feed lor the campers' horses! Yes, 

 ami here at this lone windmill is where several have 

 camped. We all must have a drink from the large 

 tank, and the horses can be watered at the trough. 

 No, there is no gate. You must hand it to papa 

 through the wire fence. How refreshing a good 

 draught of water is! Even the baby drinks, and 

 smacks her lips with pleasure." 



Away we go again, getting nearer and nearer 

 those majestic mountains. We have been coming 

 up faster than we realized, for they do not look so 

 very high now. Yes, we must be about 1000 feet 

 above our house. We are now about ten miles 

 from home. What a lot of lovely land, to be used 

 just for cattle! It seems a pity that it can not be 

 divided up and made into small farms! Well, it 

 will some time, may be, but not in our day. There 

 comes a buggy with two men in. Let us ask where 

 the road turns off from this to go to the lake. 

 The first gate to the left, at the foot of the hill. 

 Here it is, and, unlocked. Isn't that good? Mr. C. 

 told us we might find it locked, and then we should 

 have to give up our visit to the lake. But we are 

 lucky this morning. 



" I knew we should be," says John, "for we have 

 found so many horse-shoes; that means luck, you 

 know." 



"Whew! I wish they had not plowed into this 

 road, as it makes it so hard for the horseB." 



" May be this is not the road." 



" I will run on ahead and see," says Ernest. 



Soon we see a traveled road on the other side of 

 the fence, and we pass through another gate and 

 enter the woodlands at the foot of the peak where 

 the lake is. Isn't this picturesque? Sylvan glades, 

 browsing cattle, babbling streams, and singing 

 birds. Can we cross on that frail-looking bridge? 

 Oh, yes! with care. Well, I am glad we are over 

 that. I haven't drawn a good breath for two min- 

 utes. Dexter, the colt, was quiet, and went along 

 as well as Bess. A good gentle team is a pleasure 

 when we are going over bad places. We are climb- 

 ing up, and we are nearing the camp, I should 

 think. 



"Well, I am agreeably surprised," says one. 



"How?" 



" Why, you know the mountains look so rough 

 and rugged from our place; but see how pretty 

 they are, now we are upon them. Flowers, trees, 

 green shrubs, and wild oats cover the steep moun- 

 tain-sides, and lovely glades tempt us to camp on 

 every 6ide; and, see, we are so high up that the 

 pine-trees begin to be scattered among the others. 

 The native pines rarely grow on the hills. They 

 grow only on mountains where snow falls during 

 the winter months. How proud they look! How 

 straight and trim! They seem to point above to 

 Him who made us all. Oh, what a pretty camp! 1 

 guess this is as far as we can go with the team, so 

 we will jump out and you older boys help unhar- 

 ness the horses, and the little boys can pick up 

 sticks for the camp-tire. I think that mu6t be wa- 

 ter from Zaca Lake in that stream, it is so clear and 

 soft. There is the Are; now put on the sauce-pan 

 lull of water, and we shall soon have some coffee, 

 Then while the horses are cropping the tender 

 herbage we will eat our lunch. Why, have you got 

 done already? " we say to the big ones. 



" Yes, for the present. We want to see that won- 

 derful lake we have beard so much about," 



" Shout when you get up part way, if you think 

 mamma could climb up there." 



We soon hear a shout; and as we have satisfied 

 our appetite we put away the things, give the 

 horses some barley, and, with papa carrying the 

 baby, away we go. 



"Come on, little ones; not too fast at a time; it is 

 quite a long walk up hill, so stop and breathe a 

 spell. I hope you all have old shoes on, for this 

 rock wears the leather very fast. There, now, we 

 have got over the worst of the road. See what a 

 nice path has been made in this black earth. What 

 queer kinds of bushes, and such lovely ferns! We 

 will get some when we return. The manzanita, 

 with its smooth red bark and the gray-green leaves 

 and white blossoms, would be quite an ornament 

 in a front yard. Oh! pine nuts! See, the boys are 

 getting nuts from those large cones. Sure enough, 

 the big boye have found a lot. They are rather 

 dry, but quite sweet. Where is the lake? Oh ! just 

 around there, and they point to the right. You 

 won't see it till you get to it," so we all jog along, 

 looking for the first glimpse with one eye while we 

 are admiring the pine-trees, which now predomi- 

 nate, with the others. "Just see that sharp point of 

 mountain. The trees look as though they would 

 slip off, it is so very straight up. The lake is at the 

 foot of that peak. Oh ! there is a log house, and 

 here is the lake." 



A hush falls upon the whole party as we stand 

 and see the strange view before us. A small body 

 of water is seen, with rushes and other water-weeds 

 fringing the edge, and sharp mountain-peaks all 

 around it but just where we stand; and over all, 

 that strange awe-inspiring hush that pervades all 

 forests and mountains. I like to enter those vast 

 solitudes sometimes; but the pioneer spirit is not 

 strong enough within me to wish to linger long so 

 far from human habitations. There have been two 

 log huts built by campers, but they only enhance 

 the lonely feeling, to me. They look very forlorn. 

 We sit down and impress the picture before us up- 

 on our mind, and listen to the cry of the loon, the 

 only living thing besides ourselves to be seen. The 

 sun has begun to go down the mountain, and we 

 must go too; so with one last look we return down 

 the path we came, wishing we could go down from 

 the other side of the lake, but that would make our 

 journey 20 miles further, so down we go, plucking 

 flowers, ferns, branches, young pine-trees, and the 

 sweet laurel leaves. Now we slip and slide when 

 we get to the shady place, and how hungry we all 

 are now we have got back to camp! We hastily eat 

 the remainder of our lunch, and now we are trot- 

 ting along on our homeward way. As we cross the 

 creek the last time, we will have the big boys fill 

 these two bottles with water, and we can give our 

 friends at home some of the famed waters, even if 

 they could not enjoy the picnic with us. The sun 

 is down, but we shall soon be at home. How pretty 

 the moon looks, peeping at us through the trees! 

 Here we are. Thank you for going with us. 



Los Alamos, Cal. Aunt Katie Hilton. 



And, good friend Aunt Katie, we thank 

 you also for taking us along. Your descrip- 

 tion of mountains and mountain travel is 

 very vivid and lifelike, and a dozen things 

 remind me of that wonderful trip of mine. 

 If I am correct, the Californians are more 

 in the habit of going out picnicking, and 

 taking such strolls, than we are here. Per* 

 haps it is a lesson we ought to learn. 



