My First Summer 



just where it was most needed, compelling 

 us to stop to look about us and get our 

 bearings. The Chinaman seemed to think 

 we were lost, and chattered in pidgin Eng- 

 lish concerning the abundance of "litty 

 stick" (chaparral), while the Indian silently 

 scanned the billowy ridges and gulches for 

 openings. Pushing through the thorny 

 jungle, we at length discovered a road trend- 

 ing toward Coulterville, which we followed 

 until an hour before sunset, when we reached 

 a dry ranch and camped for the night. 



Camping in the foothills with a flock 

 of sheep is simple and easy, but far from 

 pleasant. The sheep were allowed to pick 

 what they could find in the neighborhood 

 until after sunset, watched by the shepherd, 

 while the others gathered wood, made a 

 fire, cooked, unpacked and fed the horses, 

 etc. About dusk the weary sheep were 

 gathered on the highest open spot near 

 camp, where they willingly bunched close 

 together, and after each mother had found 



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