The floor was so hard that the horse's feet made no impression on it.

Very few men, quite a number of Indians, more women, and a still larger quantity of dogs made up the inhabitants.
Leaving here the road led back from the sea shore and over quite a level table land, covered with a big growth of grass and some timber, and then down to the sandy shore again where the mountain comes so close that we were crowded down to the very water's edge.

Here the never-tiring waves were still following each other to the shore and dashing themselves to pieces with such a noise that I felt awed to silence.

What a strange difference in two parts of the earth so little distance from each other! Here was a waste of waters, there was a waste of sands that may some time have been the bottom of just such a dashing, rolling sea as this.
And here, between the two, was a fertile region covered with trees, grass and flowers, and watered with brooks of fresh, sweet water.
Paradise and Desolation! They surely were not far apart.

Here I saw some of the queer things that wash on shore, for we camped close to the beach.
It was a circumstance of great interest to me to see the sun slowly go down into the great ocean.