It was at the foot of the San Fernando Mountain, not rocky, as we had found our road some time before, but smooth and covered with grass.

It was rather steep to climb, but an infant compared with the great mountains so rough and barren, we had climbed on our way from Death Valley.

Our present condition and state of mind was an anomalous one.

We were happy, encouraged, grateful and quite contented in the plenty which surrounded us, and still there was a sort of puzzling uncertainty as to our future, the way to which seemed very obscure.

In the past we had pushed on our very best and a kind Providence had kept us.