Part 15

Commodore Sloat, who raised the American flag at Monterey, and Commodore Stockton were United States naval officers who helped to conquer the Mexican and Indian forces with the aid of Fremont and General Kearny. These four men won the land of gold for the Union.

General John Bidwell, another "path-finder," who in 1841 led the first party of white men over the Sierras, lived to be over eighty years of age. He saw the state, once a wilderness where naked Digger Indians chased elk and antelope, grow to a pleasant land of orchards and vineyards, of great cities full of people. General Bidwell was for a time in Sutter's employ, and surveyed nearly all the large ranches and the roads in early days. All his life he planted trees and built roads, and at his great Rancho Chico is one of the largest orchards in the state. Part of his life-work was to help a tribe of savage Indians to be good American citizens, and as one of the fathers of California he should always be remembered.

Many notable names appear in the days when the finding of gold brought this shore of the Pacific Ocean before the eyes of the world. Among these are Gwin, who was chosen senator with Fremont; Larkin, widely known as the first and last American Consul to California and for his accounts of the gold discovery; and Halleck, first secretary of the state and afterward General Halleck.

The streets of San Francisco honor some of the citizens of 1848 and 1849: Geary, the first postmaster; Leavenworth and Hyde, the first alcaldes or mayors; Van Ness, Broderick, Turk, and McAllister, recalling prominent men of those days. Spanish families like Sanchez, Castro, Noe, Bernal, and Guerrero had also a place on the city map. Indeed, every town has some native Californian names in and around it.

Don Victor Castro, said to be the first white child born in San Francisco, died lately at San Pablo in the house he had built sixty years ago. He was called the last of the Spanish grandees, those dons who, before the Gringos came, had estates that stretched miles away on every hand, and thousands of cattle with many Indian servants. Don Victor built and ran the first ferry across San Francisco Bay.

Sacramento was laid out as a town for Sutter by three lieutenants of the U.S. army: Warner, who was afterwards killed by Indians; Ord, who was a general in the Civil War, while the third, in after years "marched through Georgia" as General Sherman. Marysville was also laid out by Sutter, and Stockton by Weber, who owned all the land around it.

In 1849 Doctor Gregg and his party found Humboldt Bay. In 1851 Yosemite Valley was discovered by Major Savage and a company of soldiers, who were out hunting hostile Indians. This band of Indians was called the Yosemites, and their old chief's name was Tenaya, for whom the beautiful lake is named.

Those who came to California before 1850 were called pioneers, and many of them built up great fortunes. Among them were Coleman, the president of the vigilance committee, Sharon, Flood, Fair, O'Brien, Tevis, Phelan, and James Lick. Lick was a remarkable man, who gave away an immense fortune; building the Lick Observatory, a school of mechanical arts, free public baths, an old ladies' home, and giving a million to the Academy of Science and the Society of California Pioneers.

In later days the names crowd thickly upon each other. Among editors and literary men the fearless and ill-fated James King of the Evening Bulletin, J. Ross Browne, the reporter of the first convention and a most interesting writer, Derby the humorist, "Caxton" or W.H. Rhodes, Mark Twain, Bret Harte, the historians Hittell and Bancroft, and the poet Joaquin Miller may be noted.

The governors of the state have been men remarkable as brilliant speakers or lawyers and as wise rulers. In 1875, during the time of Pacheco, the first native-born governor, the order of "Native Sons of the Golden West" was formed, which now numbers over ten thousand young California men. The "Native Daughters," a sister society, follows also the idea of keeping the love of California warm in the hearts of her children.

OUR GLORIOUS CLIMATE

Not only a glorious but in many ways a wonderful climate is enjoyed by the people of California's sea-coast and mountains, her valleys and foot-hills. In no other state can one find so many kinds of weather in such short distances. For instance, in Southern California you may pick flowers and oranges in almost tropical gardens, and in an hour find winter and throw snowballs on the high mountains overlooking the roses and orange groves you so lately left.

Only in the mountains, along that granite backbone of the state known as the Sierra Nevadas, are there four seasons, the spring, summer, autumn, and winter common to most of the United States. So the Sierras have a distinct climate of their own. The Sacramento and San Joaquin river valleys have another climate peculiar to themselves, while south of latitude 35 degrees the coast has less rain and is warmer than the coast counties north of that line.

In the greater part of the state the year is divided into a dry summer and a wet winter. The rains begin in October, and the first showers fall on dry, brown hills and dusty fields baked hard by steady sunshine since May. After these showers the grass springs up, and the fields are green almost as quickly as if some fairy godmother had waved her wand. An army of wild flowers, whose seeds were hidden in the brown earth, wakes when the rain-drops patter, and the plants get ready to bloom in a month or so. For this season, from November to February, with little frost and no ice nor snow, is winter in name only. Roses and violets bloom in the gardens and yellow poppies on the hills.

People expect and hope for much rain in this so-called winter, since a wet year assures good crops to the state. But the amount of rain that falls is very uncertain. It does not rain every day, nor all day, as a rule, and each storm seems different. Sometimes a "southeaster" blows up from the Japan Current, or Black Stream, as the Japanese call the warm, dark-blue waters that pour out of the China Sea. This current of the Pacific Ocean flows along our coast in a mighty river a thousand miles wide, and gives California its peculiar climate of cool summers and moist, warm winters. The southeasterly wind ruffles the bay with white-capped waves and dashes sheets of rain against window and roof. Then the wind changes, and all the clouds go flying to north or east, while from the clear blue sky brilliant sunshine pours down to make the grass and flowers grow. During the winter months the sun is strong and warm enough to make out-door life delightful.

The farmer depends greatly upon the rainfall. In a wet winter the moisture sinks far into the ground, but not so deep that the thirsty little roots cannot find it in the summer. Early rains are needed to soften the ground for November ploughing, and young grain and crops of all kinds need rain through April. In the northern part of the state the wet season begins earlier and lasts longer than in the south, while the southeastern corner is an almost rainless desert.

In San Francisco the thermometer seldom falls below 45º in the winter, the average for the season being 51º. Perhaps in January or February the sidewalks may be white with frost in the mornings, or hail may fall during some cold rain-storm. Once in five years or so, enough snow falls to make children go wild with delight over a few snowballs which are very soon melted. People can be comfortable the year round without fires, and the clear, bright winter days with soft air and warm sunshine are always pleasant enough to spend outdoors. This ocean climate, due to the warm sea air, is enjoyed by the counties facing the coast and San Francisco Bay. In the valleys of the interior white frosts are frequent, and thin ice forms on the wayside puddles. Once in a while killing frosts destroy fruit blossoms and cut down the garden flowers and vegetables, but seldom do more damage.

In mountain regions, above five or six thousand feet, the very cold winter lasts six or seven months. Snow falls almost constantly and drifts to a great depth. Small lakes are frozen and buried in snow, and the trees are bent and weighed down with ice and sleet. Many of the wild animals come down to the foot-hills below the snow-line to spend the winter; but the bear curls himself up in his warm cave and sleeps through the cold months. In this snowy zone of the Sierras, about thirty miles wide, winter lasts from the first snowfall, about the end of October, to the late spring of June. Then July and August are months of glorious weather, with clear, dry air and a cloudless sky. During the day the temperature of about 80 degrees melts much snow, and the rivers carry it away in rushing torrents and falls of icy water. In September the frost turns the leaves of all but the evergreen trees beautiful colors of red and yellow. Indian summer comes during September and October, when the days are sunny and warm, and then the long winter sets in again. Peaks above eight thousand feet are snow-clad on their crests and along their sides by deep drifts the year round.

Along the Pacific coast in summer cool sea-winds, called trade-winds, blow in from the ocean, and 60 degrees is the average temperature. The farther you go inland from the coast, the hotter it gets, and the heat is very great in the interior of the state. In the San Joaquin and Sacramento valleys it is often over 100 degrees in the shade, though this dry heat is not hard to bear, and the nights are always cool enough for one to sleep in comfort.

Summer fogs are usual in the coast counties. The mornings are pleasant and sunny till about eleven o'clock. At this time the sun's rays grow stronger in the interior valleys, and the hot air rises while trade-winds rush in from the cold ocean and fog settles down like a thick, gray cloud over the bay and hills. July and August are cold and foggy along the coastline, with strong west winds almost every day. In September the winds die away, and sometimes a shower or two falls.

The rainless desert, or southeastern corner of our state, is the hottest region of all. Here the sun glares down till sand and rocks seem heated by a fiery furnace. Every living creature gasps and pants for breath in the scorching heat. There are no trees, but only cactus, that queer, prickly, thorny plant, often fifteen or twenty feet high in these wastes of sand, and low greasewood bushes. Under this vegetation snakes, lizards, and horned toads bask all day and search for food at night. If travellers wander from the road in crossing the desert, they are easily lost, and sometimes they die or go mad in the terrible heat. There are no springs, and water stations are a long way apart, so that lost people usually die of thirst. As the heat of the sun's rays quivers over the burning sands, a curious sight called a mirage is often produced. A cool, glassy lake or flowing river bordered with green trees seems pictured in the air, and the hot and weary traveller can scarcely believe that only sand and rocks are before him.

Can you tell which season you like the best? You will find the one you choose in some part of this favored state. It is always summer in the south, and you may slide on the ice or throw snowballs all year in the high Sierras.

SOME WONDERFUL SIGHTS

California is a wonderland where snowy mountains, mighty and ancient forests, glaciers and geysers, lakes and waterfalls, foaming rivers and the cliffs and rolling surf down her long sea-coast give new and beautiful pictures at every place.

Through the whole state stretches the granite backbone of the Sierra Nevadas with its highest crest or ridge at the head-waters of the Kings and Kern rivers near Fresno. Here Mount Whitney and a dozen other great peaks of the High Sierras or California Alps lift their heads over thirteen thousand feet in the air. Here are to be seen most magnificent panoramas of lofty peaks, deep cañons, towering domes, and snow-clad summits. The finest forests, too, in the world grow on the slopes of the Sierras, the immense pines and giant sequoias of the General Grant and other National Parks in this section being the largest and oldest of all. Kings River Cañon is a rugged gorge half a mile deep with the river rushing through it in thundering rapids and cascades.

The well-known Yosemite Valley is the gorge of the Merced River and, though only eight miles long and half a mile wide, holds the grandest of all our mountain scenery. The mighty rock El Capitan, over three thousand feet in height, stands at the entrance to the valley, and across from it is Bridal Veil Fall, a snowy cascade so thin you can see the face of the mountain through the falling waters. There are many waterfalls, but the Yosemite is chief of them all. Here the river takes a plunge of sixteen hundred feet, the water falling like snowy rockets bursting into spray from that great height.

Then, for six hundred feet more, the torrent leaps and foams through a trench it has cut out of the solid rock to the cliff, from which it takes a second plunge. This Lower Yosemite fall is four hundred feet high, the rushing waters turning into clouds of spray, which the wind tosses from side to side. At Nevada Fall the Merced River leaps six hundred feet at a bound, strikes a mass of rocks halfway down, and breaks into white foam upon which rainbows play when the sun shines through the misty veil.

Besides the grand Sentinel Rock, Eagle Peak, Clouds' Rest, and other high mountains in the Yosemite Valley, many domes or round-topped peaks like the heads of buried giants loom up, the most famous being South Dome, Washington Column, Liberty Cap, and Mount Broderick.