THe West American Screnrisr. 
VoL. VI. SEPTEMBER, 1880. No. 47 
THE CALIFORNIA GEYSER. 
The remarkable hot springs, which are commonly called by the 
above name, are situated in the north-easterly part of Sonoma 
county, some twenty miles from the southern extremity of Clear 
lake. The writer recently visited this spot, and so greatly en- 
joyed both the journey and the scenery that he would fain induce 
hundreds of others to go and do likewise. 
To reach the Geysers is not a difficult undertaking. We 
will suppose you are in San Francisco and that you come to the 
ferry at half-past seven in the morning. Step on board the large 
ferry-boat ‘‘Tiburon,’’ take a comfortable seat on the upper deck, 
and in a few moments the journey will begin. The whistle blows, 
the wheels revolve, the rudder directs the course of the boat to 
the north, and you are swiftly speeding past the city front with its 
crowded wharves and ware-houses and in a little time are feeling 
the gentle swell which comes in through the Golden Gate. On 
past Alcatraz, with its ramparts and its guns, and you are soon 
skirting along the western side of Angel Island. Ina little hol- 
low which comes down to the water’s edge is the military settle- 
ment, and there may be seen barracks,officers’ houses and store 
buildings prettily grouped around a central park, while on the 
side of a hill stands a little church, nestling among the oaks, and 
above this may be seen the white stones and crosses which mark 
the last resting places of soldiers who have died in the service. 
The whole forms a very peaceful picture, though the subject is 
grim and warlike. 
A few minutes more brings you to Point Tiburon, where you 
leave the boat and take the train, and presently you are speeding 
along the track of the San Francisco and North Pacific railway. 
The road winds among the oak-dotted knolls where it can, 
and plunges through the very heart of the hills where it must, 
until it reaches the pretty town of San Rafael. Quite a long 
tunnel is necessary to let you out on its northern side, and then 
you glide along the edge of salt marshes, with here and there a 
turn behind low hills, till you reach Petaluma. Some of the land 
which you have just passed is as rich as any in the State, as the 
sleek herds of cattle and heavily laden orchards plainly testify. 
And now you enter the broad Sonoma valley, where level and 
productive fields spread out for miles on either side; you pause 
a moment at the county seat, Santa Rosa, a thriving city in the 
