One day while fishing on the beach we found the body of a man, which we carried above the tide and buried in the sand.
I gave one of my horses to Geo.

Bennett, and went over to Santa Cruz, where I found Mr.and Mrs.J.B.Arcane and son Charles in a comfortable home, well situated, and overjoyed to see me.
He knew everyone in town, and as we went about he never missed to introduce me to every one we met, as the man who helped himself and family out of Death Valley, and saved their lives.

Arcane was a very polite Frenchman and knew how to manage such things very gracefully, but with all his grace and heartiness it made me feel quite a little embarrassed to be made so much of publicly and among strangers.

He took me in his buggy and we drove along the beach, and to the lime-kiln of Cowel & Jordan, also to the court house when court was in session.
Upon the hill I met Judge Watson, the father of Watsonville, and a Mr.
Graham, an old settler and land owner, and on this occasion he pulled a sheet of ancient, smoky looking paper from beneath his arm, pointed to a dozen or so of written lines in Spanish and then with a flourish of the precious document in Watson's face dared him to beat that, or get him off his land.

I must say that never in my life was I better entertained than here.
From Santa Cruz I crossed the mountain on a lonely and romantic trail to San Jose again, finding very few houses on the road.