136 TRUE BEAR STORIES. 



other boys of all grades and ages, from 

 almost all parts of the earth. 



A good many boys came here from Bos 

 ton and other eastern cities to escape the 

 rigors of winter. I remember one boy in 

 particular from Philadelphia. He was a 

 small boy with a big nose, very bright and 

 very brave. He was not a friend of the 

 little Aztec Indian, the Bear-Slayer of San 

 Diego. The name of this boy from Phila 

 delphia was Peterson; the Boston boys 

 called him Bill Peterson. His name, per 

 haps, was William P. Peterson; William 

 Penn Peterson, most likely. But this is 

 merely detail, and can make but little dif 

 ference in the main facts of the case. 



As I said before, these college grounds 

 are on the outer edge of the city. The 

 ocean shuts out the world on the west, but 

 the huge chaparral hills roll in on the east, 

 and out of these hills the jack-rabbits come 

 down in perfect avalanches at night, and 

 devour almost everything that grows. 



Wolves howl from these hills of chapar- 



