228 Life in the Open 



horses to the rocks and crept slowly over the rough 

 surface, and then, out on a mass of seeming lava, 

 three hundred yards away, saw the herd, a large buck 

 standing out in bold relief. I had disgraced myself, so 

 insisted that my companion take the shot, which he 

 did ; but whether it was the strong wind or the pecul- 

 iar pulsating atmosphere, he missed, and the animals 

 plunged down the side and disappeared. We followed, 

 and reaching the spot, heard them somewhere far down 

 the slope, so returned for our horses, stopping for a 

 few moments to take in the splendid vista that stretched 

 away. We could see the ocean on all sides, an ineffa- 

 ble tint of old Persian turquoise, and below and all 

 about cartons, peaks, and ranges that formed the most 

 remarkable jumble and maze it was ever my good for- 

 tune to look down upon. 



The island was an emerald in a setting of azure, its 

 green intense the green some of the French realists 

 paint, and on this background the cafions were darker, 

 melting one into the other. Opposite were the Cabrillo 

 Mountains and Middle Ranch Carton, and to the west 

 the hills went tumbling away to the sea, to meet it in lofty 

 rocky cliffs, against which a light-blue haze seemed to 

 play. To the east rose the snow-capped mountains of 

 the Sierra Madre, San Antonio, San Jacinto, and San 

 Bernardino, ten and twelve thousand feet high ; their 

 white summits standing out against the blue sky in 

 strong relief, across thirty miles of the blue Pacific and 

 as many more of green hills and vales. All Southern 



