Thitherwewent；theJews，whoshouldalreadyhavebeenmilesintoLakeCounty，stillcheerilyaccompanyingus。Foraboutafurlongwefollowedagoodroadalone，thehillsidethroughtheforest，untilsuddenlythatroadwidenedoutandcameabruptlytoanend。Acanyon，woodybelow，red，rocky，andnakedoverhead，washerewalledacrossbyadumpofrollingstones，dangerouslysteep，andfromtwentytothirtyfeetinheight。Arustyironchuteonwoodenlegscameflying，likeamonstrousgargoyle，acrosstheparapet。Itwasdownthisthattheypouredthepreciousore；andbelowherethecartsstoodtowaittheirlading，andcarryitmill—warddownthemountain。
Thewholecanyonwassoentirelyblocked，asifbysomerudeguerillafortification，thatwecouldonlymountbylengthsofwoodenladder，fixedinthehillside。Theseledusroundthefarthercornerofthedump；andwhentheywereatanend，westillperseveredoverlooserubbleandwadingdeepinpoisonoak，tillwestruckatriangularplatform，fillingupthewholeglen，andshutinoneitherhandbyboldprojectionsofthemountain。Onlyinfronttheplacewasopenliketheprosceniumofatheatre，andwelookedforthintoagreatrealmofair，anddownupontreetopsandhilltops，andfarandnearonwildandvariedcountry。Theplacestillstoodasonthedayitwasdeserted：alineofironrailswithabifurcation；atruckinworkingorder；aworldoflumber，oldwood，oldiron；ablacksmith’sforgeononeside，halfburiedintheleavesofdwarfmadronas；andontheother，anoldbrownwoodenhouse。
FannyandIdashedatthehouse。Itconsistedofthreerooms，andwassoplasteredagainstthehill，thatoneroomwasrightatopofanother，thattheupperfloorwasmorethantwiceaslargeasthelower，andthatallthreeapartmentsmustbeenteredfromadifferentsideandlevel。Notawindow—sashremained。
Thedoorofthelowerroomwassmashed，andonepanelhunginsplinters。Weenteredthat，andfoundafairamountofrubbish：sandandgravelthathadbeensiftedintherebythemountainwinds；straw，sticks，andstones；atable，abarrel；aplate—rackonthewall；twohome—madebootjacks，signsofminersandtheirboots；andapairofpaperspinnedontheboarding，headedrespectively"FunnelNo。1，"and"FunnelNo。2，"butwiththetailstornaway。Thewindow，sashlessofcourse，waschokedwiththegreenandsweetlysmellingfoliageofabay；andthroughachinkinthefloor，asprayofpoisonoakhadshotupandwashandsomelyprosperingintheinterior。Itwasmyfirstcaretocutawaythatpoisonoak，Fannystandingbyatarespectfuldistance。
Thatwasourfirstimprovementbywhichwetookpossession。
Theroomimmediatelyabovecouldonlybeenteredbyaplankproppedagainstthethreshold，alongwhichtheintrudermustfootitgingerly，clutchingforsupporttospraysofpoisonoak，theproperproductofthecountry。Hereinwas，oneitherhand，atripletierofbeds，whereminershadoncelain；andtheothergablewaspiercedbyasashlesswindowandadoorlessdoorwayopeningontheairofheaven，fivefeetabovetheground。Asforthethirdroom，whichenteredsquarelyfromthegroundlevel，buthigherupthehillandfartherupthecanyon，itcontainedonlyrubbishandtheuprightsforanothertripletierofbeds。
Thewholebuildingwasoverhungbyabold，lion—like，redrock。Poisonoak，sweetbaytrees，calcanthus，brush，andchaparral，grewfreelybutsparselyallaboutit。Infront，inthestrongsunshine，theplatformlayoverstrewnwithbusylitter，asthoughthelaboursoftheminemightbeginagainto—morrowinthemorning。
Followingbackintothecanyon，amongthemassofrottingplantandthroughthefloweringbushes，wecametoagreatcrazystaging，withawrywindlessonthetop；andclamberingup，wecouldlookintoanopenshaft，leadingedgewaysdownintothebowelsofthemountain，tricklingwithwater，andlitbysomestraysun—gleams，whenceIknownot。Inthatquietplacethestill，far—awaytinkleofthewater—dropswasloudlyaudible。Closeby，anothershaftlededgewaysupintothesuperincumbentshoulderofthehill。Itlaypartlyopen；
andsixtyorahundredfeetaboveourhead，wecouldseethestrataproppedapartbysolidwoodenwedges，andapine，halfundermined，precariouslynoddingontheverge。Herealsoarugged，horizontaltunnelranstraightintotheunsunnedbowelsoftherock。Thissecureangleinthemountain’sflankwas，evenonthiswildday，asstillasmylady’schamber。Butinthetunnelacold，wetdraughttempestuouslyblew。NorhaveIeverknownthatplaceotherwisethancoldandwindy。
SuchwasourfistprospectofJuanSilverado。IownIhadlookedforsomethingdifferent：acliqueofneighbourlyhousesonavillagegreen，weshallsay，allemptytobesure，butsweptandvarnished；atroutstreambrawlingby；
greatelmsorchestnuts，hummingwithbeesandnestedinbysong—birds；andthemountainsstandingroundabout，asatJerusalem。Here，mountainandhouseandtheoldtoolsofindustrywereallalikerustyanddownfalling。Thehillwasherewedgedup，andtherepouredforthitsbowelsinaspoutofbrokenmineral；manwithhispicksandpowder，andnaturewithherowngreatblastingtoolsofsunandrain，labouringtogetherattheruinofthatproudmountain。Theviewupthecanyonwasaglimpseofdevastation；dryredmineralsslidingtogether，hereandthereacrag，hereandtheredwarfthicketclinginginthegeneralglissade，andoverallabrokenoutlinetrenchingontheblueofheaven。Downwardsindeed，fromourrockeyrie，webeholdthegreenersideofnature；
andthebearingofthepinesandthesweetsmellofbaysandnutmegscommandedthemselvesgratefullytooursenses。Onewayandanother，nowthediewascast。Silveradobeit!
AfterwehadgotbacktotheTollHouse，theJewswerenotlongofstrikingforward。ButIobservedthatoneoftheHansonladscamedown，beforetheirdeparture，andreturnedwithaship’skettle。HappyHansons!NorwasituntilafterKelmarwasgone，ifIrememberrightly，thatRufeputinanappearancetoarrangethedetailsofourinstallation。
Thelatterpartoftheday，FannyandIsatintheverandahoftheTollHouse，utterlystunnedbytheuproarofthewindamongthetreesontheothersideofthevalley。Sometimes，wewouldhaveititwaslikeasea，butitwasnotvariousenoughforthat；andagain，wethoughtitliketheroarofacataract，butitwastoochangefulforthecataract；andthenwewoulddecide，speakinginsleepyvoices，thatitcouldbecomparedwithnothingbutitself。Mymindwasentirelypreoccupiedbythenoise。Ihearkenedtoitbythehour，gapinglyhearkened，andletmycigarettegoout。Sometimesthewindwouldmakeasallynearerhand，andsendashrill，whistlingcrashamongthefoliageonoursideoftheglen；
andsometimesaback—draughtwouldstrikeintotheelbowwherewesat，andcastthegravelandtornleavesintoourfaces。Butforthemostpart，thisgreat，streaminggalepassedunweariedlybyusintoNapaValley，nottwohundredyardsaway，visiblebythetossingboughs，stunninglyaudible，andyetnotmovingahairuponourheads。SoitblewallnightlongwhileIwaswritingupmyjournal，andafterwewereinbed，underacloudless，starsetheaven；andsoitwasblowingstillnextmorningwhenwerose。
Itwasalaughablethoughttous，whathadbecomeofourcheerful，wanderingHebrews。Wecouldnotsupposetheyhadreachedadestination。Themeanestboycouldleadthemmilesoutoftheirwaytoseeagopher—hole。Boys，wefelttobetheirspecialdanger；noneotherswereofthatexactpitchofcheerfulirrelevancytoexerciseakindredswayupontheirminds：butbeforetheattractionsofaboytheirmostsettledresolutionswouldbewar。WethoughtwecouldfollowinfancythesethreeagedHebrewtruantswanderinginandoutonhilltopandinthicket，ademonboytrottingfarahead，theirwill—o’—the—wispconductor；andatlastaboutmidnight，thewindstillroaringinthedarkness，wehadavisionofallthreeontheirkneesuponamountain—toparoundaglow—
worm。
CHAPTERIII。THERETURN
NEXTmorningwewereupbyhalf—pastfive，accordingtoagreement，anditwastenbytheclockbeforeourJewboysreturnedtopickusup。Kelmar，Mrs。Kelmar，andAbramina，allsmilingfromeartoear，andfulloftalesofthehospitalitytheyhadfoundontheotherside。Ithadnotgoneunrewarded；forIobservedwithinterestthattheship’skettles，allbutone，hadbeen"placed。"ThreeLakeCountyfamilies，atleast，endowedforlifewithaship’skettle。
Come，thiswasnomisspentSunday。Theabsenceofthekettlestolditsownstory：ourJewssaidnothingaboutthem；but，ontheotherhand，theysaidmanykindandcomelythingsaboutthepeopletheyhadmet。Thetwowomen，inparticular，hadbeencharmedoutofthemselvesbythesightofayounggirlsurroundedbyheradmirers；allevening，itappeared，theyhadbeentriumphingtogetherinthegirl’sinnocentsuccesses，andtothisnaturalandunselfishjoytheygaveexpressioninlanguagethatwasbeautifulbyitssimplicityandtruth。
Takethemforallinall，fewpeoplehavedonemyheartmoregood；theyseemedsothoroughlyentitledtohappiness，andtoenjoyitinsolargeameasureandsofreefromafter—
thought；almosttheypersuadedmetobeaJew。Therewas，indeed，achinkofmoneyintheirtalk。Theyparticularlycommandedpeoplewhowerewelltodo。"HEdon’tcare—ain’tit？"wastheirhighestwordofcommendationtoanindividualfate；andhereIseemtograsptherootoftheirphilosophy—
itwastobefreefromcare，tobefreetomaketheseSundaywanderings，thattheysoeagerlypursuedafterwealth；andallthiscarefulnesswastobecareless。Thefine，goodhumourofallthreeseemedtodeclaretheyhadattainedtheirend。Yettherewastheothersidetoit；andtherecipientsofkettlesperhapscaredgreatly。
Nosoonerhadtheyreturned，thanthesceneofyesterdaybeganagain。Thehorseswerenoteventiedwithastrawropethistime—itwasnotworthwhile；andKelmardisappearedintothebar，leavingthemunderatreeontheothersideoftheroad。Ihadtodevotemyself。Istoodundertheshadowofthattreefor，Isuppose，harduponanhour，andhadnotthehearttobeangry。Oncesomeonerememberedme，andbroughtmeouthalfatumblerfuloftheplayful，innocuousAmericancocktail。Idrankit，andlo!veinsoflivingfirerandownmyleg；andthenafocusofconflagrationremainedseatedinmystomach，notunpleasantly，forquarterofanhour。Ilovethesesweet，fierypangs，butIwillnotcourtthem。ThebulkofthetimeIspentinrepeatingasmuchFrenchpoetryasIcouldremembertothehorses，whoseemedtoenjoyithugely。Andnowitwent—
"OmavieilleFont—georgesOuvolentlesrouges—gorges："
andagain，toamoretramplingmeasure—
"Ettouttremble，Irun，Coimbre，Sautander，Almodovar，Sitotqu’onentendletimbreDescymbalesdoBivar。"
TheredbreastsandthebrooksofEurope，inthatdryandsonglessland；braveoldnamesandwars，strongcities，cymbals，andbrightarmour，inthatnookofthemountain，sacredonlytotheIndianandthebear!Thisisstillthestrangestthinginallman’stravelling，thatheshouldcarryaboutwithhimincongruousmemories。Thereisnoforeignland；itisthetravelleronlythatisforeign，andnowandagain，byaflashofrecollection，lightsupthecontrastsoftheearth。
ButwhileIwasthuswanderinginmyfancy，greatfeatshadbeentransactedinthebar。Corwintheboldhadfallen，Kelmarwasagaincrownedwithlaurels，andthelastoftheship’skettleshadchangedhands。IfIhadeverdoubtedthepurityofKelmar’smotives，ifIhadeversuspectedhimofasingleeyetobusinessinhiseternaldallyings，nowatleast，whenthelastkettlewasdisposedof，mysuspicionsmusthavebeenallayed。Idarenotguesshowmuchmoretimewaswasted；norhowoftenwedroveoff，merelytodrivebackagainandrenewinterruptedconversationsaboutnothing，beforetheTollHousewasfairlyleftbehind。Alas!andnotamiledownthegradetherestandsarancheinasunnyvineyard，andherewemustalldismountagainandenter。
Onlytheoldladywasathome，Mrs。Guele，abrownoldSwissdame，thepictureofhonesty；andwithherwedrankabottleofwineandhadanage—longconversation，whichwouldhavebeenhighlydelightfulifFannyandIhadnotbeenfaintwithhunger。Theladieseachnarratedthestoryofhermarriage，ourtwoHebrewswiththeprettiestcombinationofsentimentandfinancialbathos。Abramina，specially，endearedherselfwitheveryword。Shewasassimple，natural，andengagingasakidthatshouldhavebeenbroughtuptothebusinessofamoney—changer。OnetouchwassoresplendentlyHebraicthatI
cannotpassitover。Whenher"oldman"wrotehomeforherfromAmerica，heroldman’sfamilywouldnotintrustherwiththemoneyforthepassage，tillshehadboundherselfbyanoath—onherknees，Ithinkshesaid—nottoemployitotherwise。
ThishadtickledAbraminahugely，butIthinkittickledmefullymore。
Mrs。Gueletoldofherhome—sicknessuphereinthelongwinters；ofherhonest，country—womantroublesandalarmsuponthejourney；howinthebankatFrankfortshehadfearedlestthebanker，afterhavingtakenhercheque，shoulddenyallknowledgeofit—afearIhavemyselfeverytimeIgotoabank；andhowcrossingtheLuneburgerHeath，anoldlady，witnessinghertroubleandfindingwhithershewasbound，hadgivenher"theblessingofapersoneightyyearsold，whichwouldbesuretobringhersafelytotheStates。AndthefirstthingIdid，"addedMrs。Guele，"wastofalldownstairs。"
Atlengthwegotoutofthehouse，andsomeofusintothetrap，when—judgmentofHeaven!—herecameMr。Guelefromhisvineyard。Soanotherquarterofanhourwentby；tillatlength，atourearnestpleading，wesetforthagaininearnest，FannyandIwhite—facedandsilent，buttheJewsstillsmiling。Theheartfailsme。Therewasyetanotherstoppage!AndwedroveatlastintoCalistogapasttwointheafternoon，FannyandIhavingbreakfastedatsixinthemorning，eightmortalhoursbefore。Wewereapallidcouple；
butstilltheJewsweresmiling。
Soendedourexcursionwiththevillageusurers；and，nowthatitwasdone，wehadnomoreideaofthenatureofthebusiness，norofthepartwehadbeenplayinginit，thanthechildunborn。ThatallthepeoplewehadmetweretheslavesofKelmar，thoughinvariousdegreesofservitude；thatweourselveshadbeensentupthemountainintheinterestsofnonebutKelmar；thatthemoneywelaidout，dollarbydollar，centbycent，andthroughthehandsofvariousintermediaries，shouldallhopultimatelyintoKelmar’still；
—thesewerefactsthatweonlygrewtorecognizeinthecourseoftimeandbytheaccumulationofevidence。Atlengthalldoubtwasquieted，whenoneofthekettle—holdersconfessed。Stoppinghistrapinthemoonlight，alittlewayoutofCalistoga，hetoldme，insomanywords，thathedarenotshowfacetherewithanemptypocket。"Yousee，Idon’tmindifitwasonlyfivedollars，Mr。Stevens，"hesaid，"butImustgiveMr。KelmarSOMETHING。"
Evennow，whenthewholetyrannyisplaintome，IcannotfinditinmyhearttobeasangryasperhapsIshouldbewiththeHebrewtyrant。Thewholegameofbusinessisbeggarmyneighbour；andthoughperhapsthatgamelooksuglierwhenplayedatsuchclosequartersandonsosmallascale，itisnonethemoreintrinsicallyinhumaneforthat。Thevillageusurerisnotsosadafeatureofhumanityandhumanprogressasthemillionairemanufacturer，fatteningonthetoilandlossofthousands，andyetdeclaimingfromtheplatformagainstthegreedanddishonestyoflandlords。IfitwerefairforCobdentobuyuplandfromownerswhomhethoughtunconsciousofitspropervalue，itwasfairenoughformyRussianJewtogivecredittohisfarmers。Kelmar，ifhewasunconsciousofthebeaminhisowneye，wasatleastsilentinthematterofhisbrother’smote。
THEACTOFSQUATTING
THEREwerefourofussquatters—myselfandmywife，theKingandQueenofSilverado；Sam，theCrownPrince；andChuchu，theGrandDuke。Chuchu，asettercrossedwithspaniel，wasthemostunsuitedforaroughlife。Hehadbeennurturedtenderlyinthesocietyofladies；hisheartwaslargeandsoft；heregardedthesofa—cushionasabed—rooknecessaryofexistence。Thoughaboutthesizeofasheep，helovedtositinladies’laps；heneversaidabadwordinallhisblamelessdays；andifhehadseenaflute，Iamsurehecouldhaveplayeduponitbynature。Itmayseemhardtosayitofadog，butChuchuwasatamecat。
Thekingandqueen，thegrandduke，andabasketofcoldprovenderforimmediateuse，setforthfromCalistogainadoublebuggy；thecrownprince，onhorseback，ledthewaylikeanoutrider。Bagsandboxesandasecond—handstoveweretofollowcloseuponourheelsbyHanson’steam。
Itwasabeautifulstillday；theskywasonefieldofazure。
Notaleafmoved，notaspeckappearedinheaven。Onlyfromthesummitofthemountainonelittlesnowywispofcloudafteranotherkeptdetachingitself，likesmokefromavolcano，andblowingsouthwardinsomehighstreamofair：
MountSaintHelenastillatherinterminabletask，makingtheweather，likeaLaplandwitch。
Bynoonwehadcomeinsightofthemill：agreatbrownbuilding，half—wayupthehill，bigasafactory，twostorieshigh，andwithtanksandladdersalongtheroof；which，asapendicleofSilveradomine，weheldtobeanoutlyingprovinceofourown。Thither，then，wewent，crossingthevalleybyagrassytrail；andtherelunchedoutofthebasket，sittinginakindofportico，andwondering，whileweate，atthisgreatbulkofuselessbuilding。Throughachinkwecouldlookfardownintotheinterior，andseesunbeamsfloatinginthedustandstrikingontieraftertierofsilent，rustymachinery。Itcostsixthousanddollars，twelvehundredEnglishsovereigns；andnow，hereitstandsdeserted，likethetempleofaforgottenreligion，thebusymillerstoilingsomewhereelse。Allthetimewewerethere，millandmilltownshowednosignoflife；thatpartofthemountain—side，whichisveryopenandgreen，wastenantedbynolivingcreaturebutourselvesandtheinsects；andnothingstirredbutthecloudmanufactoryuponthemountainsummit。
Itwasoddtocomparethiswiththeformerdays，whentheenginewasinfallblast，themillpalpitatingtoitsstrokes，andthecartscamerattlingdownfromSilverado，chargedwithore。
Bytwowehadbeenlandedatthemine，thebuggywasgoneagain，andwewerelefttoourownreflectionsandthebasketofcoldprovender，untilHansonshouldarrive。Hotasitwasbythesun，therewassomethingchillinsuchahome—coming，inthatworldofwreckandrust，splinterandrollinggravel，whereforsomanyyearsnofirehadsmoked。
Silveradoplatformfilledthewholewidthofthecanyon。
Above，asIhavesaid，thiswasawild，red，stonygullyinthemountains；butbelowitwasawoodeddingle。Andthroughthis，Iwastold，therehadgoneapathbetweenthemineandtheTollHouse—ournaturalnorth—westpassagetocivilization。Ifoundandfollowedit，clearingmywayasI
wentthroughfallenbranchesanddeadtrees。Itwentstraightdownthatsteepcanyon，tillitbroughtyououtabruptlyovertheroofsofthehotel。Therewasnowhereanybreakinthedescent。Italmostseemedasif，wereyoutodropastonedowntheoldironchuteatourplatform，itwouldneverrestuntilithoppedupontheTollHouseshingles。SignswerenotwantingoftheancientgreatnessofSilverado。Thefootpathwaswellmarked，andhadbeenwelltroddenintheoldclaysbythirstyminers。Andfardown，buriedinfoliage，deepoutofsightofSilverado，Icameonalastoutpostofthemine—amoundofgravel，somewreckofwoodenaqueduct，andthemouthofatunnel，likeatreasuregrottoinafairystory。Astreamofwater，fedbytheinvisibleleakagefromourshaft，anddyedredwithcinnabaroriron，rantrippinglyforthoutofthebowelsofthecave；
and，lookingfarunderthearch，Icouldseesomethinglikeanironlanternfastenedontherockywall。Itwasapromisingspotfortheimagination。Noboycouldhaveleftitunexplored。
Thestreamthenceforwardstolealongthebottomofthedingle，andmade，forthatdryland，apleasantwarblingintheleaves。Once，Isuppose，itransplashingdownthewholelengthofthecanyon，butnowitsheadwatershadbeentappedbytheshaftatSilverado，andforagreatpartofitscourseitwanderedsunlessamongthejointsofthemountain。Nowonderthatitshouldbetteritspacewhenitsees，farbeforeit，daylightwhiteninginthearch，orthatitshouldcometrottingforthintothesunlightwithasong。
ThetwostageshadgonebywhenIgotdown，andtheTollHousestood，dozinginsunanddustandsilence，likeaplaceenchanted。Mymissionwasafterhayforbedding，andthatI
wasreadilypromised。ButwhenImentionedthatwewerewaitingforRufe，thepeopleshooktheirheads。Rufewasnotaregularmananyway，itseemed；andifhegotplayingpoker—Well，pokerwastoomanyforRufe。Ihadnotyetheardthembrackettedtogether；butitseemedanaturalconjunction，andcommendeditselfswiftlytomyfears；andassoonasIreturnedtoSilveradoandhadtoldmystory，wepracticallygaveHansonup，andsetourselvestodowhatwecouldfinddo—ableinourdesert—islandstate。
Thelowerroomhadbeentheassayer’soffice。ThefloorwasthickwithDEBRIS—parthuman，fromtheformeroccupants；
partnatural，siftedinbymountainwinds。Inaseaofreddustthereswamorfloatedsticks，boards，hay，straw，stones，andpaper；ancientnewspapers，aboveall—forthenewspaper，especiallywhentorn，soonbecomesanantiquity—
andbillsoftheSilveradoboarding—house，somedatedSilverado，someCalistogaMine。Hereisone，verbatim；andifanyonecancalculatethescaleofcharges，hehasmyenviousadmiration。
CalistogaMine，May3rd，1875。
JohnStanleyToS。Chapman，Cr。
ToboardfromApril1st，toApril30$2575
"""Maylst，to3rd……200
2775
WhereisJohnStanleyminingnow？WhereisS。Chapman，withinwhosehospitablewallsweweretolodge？Thedatewasbutfiveyearsold，butinthattimetheworldhadchangedforSilverado；likePalmyrainthedesert，ithadoutliveditspeopleanditspurpose；wecamped，likeLayard，amidruins，andthesenamesspoketousofprehistorictime。A
boot—jack，apairofboots，adog—hutch，andthesebillsofMr。Chapman’sweretheonlyspeakingrelicsthatwedisinterredfromallthatvastSilveradorubbish—heap；butwhatwouldInothavegiventounearthaletter，apocket—
book，adiary，onlyaledger，orarollofnames，totakemeback，inamorepersonalmanner，tothepast？Itpleasesme，besides，tofancythatStanleyorChapman，oroneoftheircompanions，maylightuponthischronicle，andbestruckbythename，andreadsomenewsoftheiranteriorhome，coming，asitwere，outofasubsequentepochofhistoryinthatquarteroftheworld。
Asweweretumblingthemingledrubbishonthefloor，kickingitwithourfeet，andgropingforthesewrittenevidencesofthepast，Sam，withasomewhatwhitenedface，producedapaperbag。"What’sthis？"saidhe。Itcontainedagranulatedpowder，somethingthecolourofGregory’sMixture，butrosier；andastherewereseveralofthebags，andeachmoreorlessbroken，thepowderwasspreadwidelyonthefloor。Hadanyofuseverseengiantpowder？No，nobodyhad；andinstantlytheregrewupinmymindashadowybelief，vergingwitheverymomentnearertocertitude，thatIhadsomewhereheardsomebodydescribeitasjustsuchapowderastheonearoundus。Ihavelearntsincethatitisasubstancenotunliketallow，andismadeupinrollsforalltheworldliketallowcandles。
Fanny，toaddtoourhappiness，toldusastoryofagentlemanwhohadcampedonenight，likeourselves，byadesertedmine。Hewasahandy，thriftyfellow，andlookedrightandleftforplunder，butallhecouldlayhishandsonwasacanofoil。Afterdarkhehadtoseetothehorseswithalantern；andnottomissanopportunity，filleduphislampfromtheoilcan。Thusequipped，hesetforthintotheforest。Alittlewhileafter，hisfriendsheardaloudexplosion；themountainechoesbellowed，andthenallwasstill。Onexamination，thecanprovedtocontainoil，withthetriflingadditionofnitro—glycerine；butnoresearchdisclosedatraceofeithermanorlantern。
Itwasaprettysight，afterthisanecdote，toseeussweepingoutthegiantpowder。Itseemednevertobefarenoughaway。And，afterall，itwasonlysomerockpoundedforassay。
Somuchforthelowerroom。Wescrapedsomeoftherougherdirtoffthefloor，andleftit。Thatwasoursitting—roomandkitchen，thoughtherewasnothingtosituponbutthetable，andnoprovisionforafireexceptaholeintheroofoftheroomabove，whichhadoncecontainedthechimneyofastove。
Tothatupperroomwenowproceeded。Thereweretheeighteenbunksinadoubletier，nineoneitherhand，wherefromeighteentothirty—sixminershadoncesnoredtogetherallnightlong，JohnStanley，perhaps，snoringloudest。Therewastheroof，withaholeinitthroughwhichthesunnowshotanarrow。Therewasthefloor，inmuchthesamestateastheonebelow，though，perhaps，therewasmorehay，andcertainlytherewastheaddedingredientofbrokenglass，themanwhostolethewindow—frameshavingapparentlymadeamiscarriagewiththisone。Withoutabroom，withouthayorbedding，wecouldbutlookaboutuswithabeginningofdespair。Theonebrightarrowofday，inthatgauntandshatteredbarrack，madetherestlookdirtieranddarker，andthesightdroveusatlastintotheopen。
Here，also，thehandiworkofmanlayruined：buttheplantswereallaliveandthriving；theviewbelowwasfreshwiththecoloursofnature；andwehadexchangedadim，humangarretforacorner，evenalthoughitwereuntidy，ofthebluehallofheaven。Notabird，notabeast，notareptile。
Therewasnonoiseinthatpartoftheworld，savewhenwepassedbesidethestaging，andheardthewatermusicallyfallingintheshaft。
Wewanderedtoandfro。Wesearchedamongthatdriftoflumber—woodandiron，nailsandrails，andsleepersandthewheelsoftracks。Wegazedupthecleftintothebosomofthemountain。Wesatbythemarginofthedumpandsaw，farbelowus，thegreentreetopsstandingstillintheclearair。
Beautifulperfumes，breathsofbay，resin，andnutmeg，cametousmoreoftenandgrewsweeterandsharperastheafternoondeclined。ButstilltherewasnowordofHanson。
Isettowithpickandshovel，anddeepenedthepoolbehindtheshaft，tillweweresureofsufficientwaterforthemorning；andbythetimeIhadfinished，thesunhadbeguntogodownbehindthemountainshoulder，theplatformwasplungedinquietshadow，andachilldescendedfromthesky。
Nightbeganearlyinourcleft。Beforeus，overthemarginofthedump，wecouldseethesunstillstrikingaslantintothewoodednickbelow，andonthebattlemented，pine—
bescatteredridgesonthefartherside。
Therewasnostove，ofcourse，andnohearthinourlodging，sowebetookourselvestotheblacksmith’sforgeacrosstheplatform。Iftheplatformbetakenasastage，andtheout—
curvingmarginofthedumptorepresentthelineofthefoot—
lights，thenourhousewouldbethefirstwingontheactor’sleft，andthisblacksmith’sforge，althoughnomatchforitinsize，theforemostontheright。Itwasalow，browncottage，plantedcloseagainstthehill，andoverhungbythefoliageandpeelingboughsofamadronathicket。Withinitwasfullofdeadleavesandmountaindust，andrubbishfromthemine。Butwesoonhadagoodfirebrightlyblazing，andsatcloseaboutitonimpromptuseats。Chuchu，theslaveofsofa—cushions，whimperedforasofterbed；buttherestofusweregreatlyrevivedandcomfortedbythatgoodcreature—
fire，whichgivesuswarmthandlightandcompanionablesounds，andcoloursuptheemptiestbuildingwithbetterthanfrescoes。Forawhileitwasevenpleasantintheforge，withtheblazeinthemidst，andalookoverourshouldersonthewoodsandmountainswherethedaywasdyinglikeadolphin。
ItwasbetweensevenandeightbeforeHansonarrived，withawaggonfulofoureffectsandtwoofhiswife’srelativestolendhimahand。Theeldershowedsurprisingstrength。Hewouldpickupahugepacking—case，fullofbooksofallthings，swingitonhisshoulder，andawayupthetwocrazyladdersandthebreakneckspoutofrollingmineral，familiarlytermedapath，thatledfromthecart—tracktoourhouse。Evenforamanunburthened，theascentwastoilsomeandprecarious；butIrvinesealeditwithalightfoot，carryingboxafterbox，astheherowhisksthestagechildupthepracticablefootwaybesidethewaterfallofthefifthact。Withsostrongahelper，thebusinesswasspeedilytransacted。Soontheassayer’sofficewasthrongedwithourbelongings，piledhiggledy—piggledy，andupsidedown，aboutthefloor。Therewereourboxes，indeed，butmywifehadleftherkeysinCalistoga。Therewasthestove，but，alas!
ourcarriershadforgotthechimney，andlostoneoftheplatesalongtheroad。TheSilveradoproblemwasscarcesolved。
Rufehimselfwasgraveandgood—naturedoverhisshareofblame；heeven，ifIrememberright，expressedregret。Buthiscrew，tomyastonishmentandanger，grinnedfromeartoear，andlaughedaloudatourdistress。Theythoughtit"realfunny"aboutthestove—pipetheyhadforgotten；"realfunny"thattheyshouldhavelostaplate。Asforhay，thewholepartyrefusedtobringusanytilltheyshouldhavesupped。Seehowlatetheywere!Neverhadtherebeensuchajobascomingupthatgrade!Noroften，Isuspect，suchagameofpokerasthatbeforetheystarted。Butaboutnine，asaparticularfavour，weshouldhavesomehay。
Sotheytooktheirdeparture，leavingmestillstaring，andweresignedourselvestowaitfortheirreturn。Thefireintheforgehadbeensufferedtogoout，andwewereoneandalltoowearytokindleanother。Wedined，or，nottotakethatwordinvain，weateafterafashion，inthenightmaredisorderoftheassayer’soffice，perchedamongboxes。A
singlecandlelightedus。Itcouldscarcebecalledahousewarming；fortherewas，ofcourse，nofire，andwiththetwoopendoorsandtheopenwindowgapingonthenight，likebreachesinafortress，itbegantogrowrapidlychill。Talkceased；nobodymovedbuttheunhappyChuchu，stillinquestofsofa—cushions，whotumbledcomplaininglyamongthetrunks。
Itrequiredacertainhappinessofdispositiontolookforwardhopefully，fromsodismalabeginning，acrossthebriefhoursofnight，tothewarmshiningofto—morrow’ssun。
Butthehayarrivedatlast，andweturned，withourlastsparkofcourage，tothebedroom。Wehadimprovedtheentrance，butitwasstillakindofrope—walking；anditwouldhavebeendrolltoseeusmounting，oneafteranother，bycandle—light，undertheopenstars。
Thewesterndoor—thatwhichlookedupthecanyon，andthroughwhichweenteredbyourbridgeofflyingplank—wasstillentire，ahandsome，panelleddoor，themostfinishedpieceofcarpentryinSilverado。Andthetwolowestbunksnexttothisweroughlyfilledwithhayforthatnight’suse。
Throughtheopposite，oreastern—lookinggable，withitsopendoorandwindow，afaint，disusedstarshinecameintotheroomlikemist；andwhenwewereonceinbed，welay，awaitingsleep，inahaunted，incompleteobscurity。Atfirstthesilenceofthenightwasutter。Thenahighwindbeganinthedistanceamongthetree—tops，andforhourscontinuedtogrowhigher。Itseemedtomemuchsuchawindaswehadfoundonourvisit；yethereinouropenchamberwewerefannedonlybygentleandrefreshingdraughts，sodeepwasthecanyon，socloseourhousewasplantedundertheoverhangingrock。
THEHUNTER’SFAMILY
THEREisquitealargeraceorclassofpeopleinAmerica，forwhomwescarcelyseemtohaveaparallelinEngland。Ofpurewhiteblood，theyareunknownorunrecognizableintowns；inhabitthefringeofsettlementsandthedeep，quietplacesofthecountry；rebellioustoalllabour，andpettilythievish，liketheEnglishgipsies；rusticallyignorant，butwithatouchofwood—loreandthedexterityofthesavage。
Whencetheycameisamootpoint。Atthetimeofthewar，theypourednorthincrowdstoescapetheconscription；livedduringsummeronfruits，wildanimals，andpettytheft；andattheapproachofwinter，whenthesesuppliesfailed，builtgreatfiresintheforest，andtherediedstoicallybystarvation。Theyarewidelyscattered，however，andeasilyrecognized。Loutish，butnotill—looking，theywillsitallday，swingingtheirlegsonafieldfence，themindseeminglyasdevoidofallreflectionasaSuffolkpeasant’s，carelessofpolitics，forthemostpartincapableofreading，butwitharebelliousvanityandastrongsenseofindependence。
Huntingistheirmostcongenialbusiness，or，iftheoccasionoffers，alittleamateurdetection。Intrackingacriminal，followingaparticularhorsealongabeatenhighway，anddrawinginductionsfromahairorafootprint，oneofthosesomnolent，grinningHodgeswillsuddenlydisplayactivityofbodyandfinesseofmind。Bytheirnamesyemayknowthem，thewomenfiguringasLoveina，Larsenia，Serena，Leanna，Orreana；themenansweringtoAlvin，Alva，orOrion，pronouncedOrrion，withtheaccentonthefirst。Whethertheyareindeedarace，orwhetherthisistheformofdegeneracycommontoallback—woodsmen，theyareatleastknownbyagenericbyword，asPoorWhitesorLow—downers。
IwillnotsaythattheHansonfamilywasPoorWhite，becausethenamesavoursofoffence；butImaygoasfarasthis—
theywere，inmanypoints，notunsimilartothepeopleusuallyso—cared。Rufehimselfcombinedtwoofthequalifications，forhewasbothahunterandanamateurdetective。ItwashewhopursuedRusselandDollar，therobbersoftheLakePortstage，andcapturedthemtheverymorningaftertheexploit，whiletheywerestillsleepinginahayfield。Russel，adrunkenScotchcarpenter，wasevenanacquaintanceofhisown，andheexpressedmuchgravecommiserationforhisfate。Inallthathesaidanddid，Rufewasgrave。Ineversawhimhurried。Whenhespoke，hetookouthispipewithceremonialdeliberation，lookedeastandwest，andthen，inquiettonesandfewwords，statedhisbusinessortoldhisstory。Hisgaitwastomatch；itwouldneverhavesurprisedyouif，atanystep，hehadturnedroundandwalkedawayagain，sowarilyandslowly，andwithsomuchseeminghesitationdidhegoabout。Helaylonginbedinthemorning—rarelyindeed，rosebeforenoon；helovedallgames，frompokertoclericalcroquet；andintheTollHousecroquetgroundIhaveseenhimtoilingatthelatterwiththedevotionofacurate。Hetookaninterestineducation，wasanactivememberofthelocalschool—board，andwhenIwasthere，hehadrecentlylosttheschoolhousekey。Hiswaggonwasbroken，butitneverseemedtooccurtohimtomendit。
Likealltrulyidlepeople，hehadanartisticeye。Hechosetheprintstuffforhiswife’sdresses，andcounselledherinthemakingofapatchworkquilt，always，asshethought，wrongly，buttothemoreeducatedeye，alwayswithbizarreandadmirabletaste—thetasteofanIndian。Withallthis，hewasaperfect，unoffendinggentlemaninwordandact。
Takehisclaypipefromhim，andhewasfitforanysocietybutthatoffools。Quietashewas，thereburnedadeep，permanentexcitementinhisdarkblueeyes；andwhenthisgravemansmiled，itwaslikesunshineinashadyplace。
Mrs。Hanson（NEE，ifyouplease，Lovelands）wasmorecommonplacethanherlord。Shewasacomelywoman，too，plump，fair—coloured，withwonderfulwhiteteeth；andinherprintdresses（chosenbyRufe）andwithalargesun—bonnetshadinghervaluedcomplexion，made，Iassureyou，averyagreeablefigure。Butshewasonthesurface，whattherewasofher，out—spokenandloud—spoken。HernoisylaughterhadnoneofthecharmofoneofHanson’srare，slow—spreadingsmiles；therewasnoreticence，nomystery，nomanneraboutthewoman：shewasafirst—classdairymaid，butherhusbandwasanunknownquantitybetweenthesavageandthenobleman。
Shewasofteninandoutwithus，merry，andhealthy，andfair；hecamefarseldomer—only，indeed，whentherewasbusiness，ornowandagain，topayavisitofceremony，brushedupfortheoccasion，withhiswifeonhisarm，andacleanclaypipeinhisteeth。Thesevisits，inourforeststate，hadquitetheairofanevent，andturnedourredcanyonintoasalon。
SuchwasthepairwhoruledintheoldSilveradoHotel，amongthewindytrees，onthemountainshoulderoverlookingthewholelengthofNapaValley，asthemanaloftlooksdownontheship’sdeck。Theretheykepthouse，withsundryhorsesandfowls，andafamilyofsons，DanielWebster，andIthinkGeorgeWashington，amongthenumber。Nordidtheywantvisitors。Anoldgentleman，ofsingularstolidity，andcalledBreedlove—IthinkhehadcrossedtheplainsinthesamecaravanwithRufe—housedwiththemforawhileduringourstay；andtheyhadbesidesapermanentlodger，intheformofMrs。Hanson’sbrother，IrvineLovelands。IspellIrvinebyguess；forIcouldgetnoinformationonthesubject，justasIcouldneverfindout，inspiteofmanyinquiries，whetherornotRufewasacontractionforRufus。
Theywereallcheerfullyatseaabouttheirnamesinthatgeneration。Andthisissurelythemorenotablewherethenamesareallsostrange，andeventhefamilynamesappeartohavebeencoined。Atonetime，atleast，theancestorsofalltheseAlvinsandAlvas，Loveinas，Lovelands，andBreedloves，musthavetakenseriouscouncilandfoundacertainpoetryinthesedenominations；thatmusthavebeen，then，theirformofliterature。Butstilltimeschange；andtheirnextdescendants，theGeorgeWashingtonsandDanielWebsters，willatleastbeclearuponthepoint。Andanyway，andhoweverhisnameshouldbespelt，thisIrvineLovelandswasthemostunmitigatedCalibanIeverknew。
OurveryfirstmorningatSilverado，whenwewerefullofbusiness，patchingupdoorsandwindows，makingbedsandseats，andgettingourroughlodgingintoshape，Irvineandhissistermadetheirappearancetogether，sheforneighbourlinessandgeneralcuriosity；he，becausehewasworkingforme，tomysorrow，cuttingfirewoodatIforgethowmuchaday。Thewaythathesetaboutcuttingwoodwascharacteristic。Wewereatthatmomentpatchingupandunpackinginthekitchen。Downhesatononeside，anddownsathissisterontheother。Bothwerechewingpine—treegum，andhe，tomyannoyance，accompaniedthatsimplepleasurewithprofuseexpectoration。Sherattledaway，talkinguphillanddowndale，laughing，tossingherhead，showingherbrilliantteeth。Helookedoninsilence，nowspittingheavilyonthefloor，nowputtinghisheadbackandutteringaloud，discordant，joylesslaugh。Hehadatangleofshockhair，thecolourofwool；hismouthwasagrin；
althoughasstrongasahorse，helookedneitherheavynoryetadroit，onlyleggy，coltish，andintheroad。Butitwasplainhewasinhighspirits，thoroughlyenjoyinghisvisit；
andhelaughedfranklywheneverwefailedtoaccomplishwhatwewereabout。Thiswasscarcelyhelpful：itwaseven，toamateurcarpenters，embarrassing；butitlasteduntilweknockedoffworkandbegantogetdinner。ThenMrs。Hansonrememberedsheshouldhavebeengoneanhourago；andthepairretired，andthelady’slaughterdiedawayamongthenutmegsdownthepath。ThatwasIrvine’sfirstday’sworkinmyemployment—thedeviltakehim!
Thenextmorninghereturnedand，ashewasthistimealone，hebestowedhisconversationuponuswithgreatliberality。
Hepridedhimselfonhisintelligence；askedusifweknewtheschoolma’am。HEdidn’tthinkmuchofher，anyway。Hehadtriedher，hehad。Hehadputaquestiontoher。Ifatreeahundredfeethighweretofallafootaday，howlongwouldittaketofallrightdown？Shehadnotbeenabletosolvetheproblem。"Shedon’tknownothing，"heopined。Hetoldushowafriendofhiskeptaschoolwitharevolver，andchuckledmightilyoverthat；hisfriendcouldteachschool，hecould。Allthetimehekeptchewinggumandspitting。Hewouldstandawhilelookingdown；andthenhewouldtossbackhisshockofhair，andlaughhoarsely，andspit，andbringforwardanewsubject。Aman，hetoldus，whoboreagrudgeagainsthim，hadpoisonedhisdog。"Thatwasalowthingforamantodonow，wasn’tit？Itwasn’tlikeaman，that，nohow。ButIgotevenwithhim：IpisonedHISdog。"Hisclumsyutterance，hisrudeembarrassedmanner，setafreshvalueonthestupidityofhisremarks。IdonotthinkIeverappreciatedthemeaningoftwowordsuntilI
knewIrvine—theverb，loaf，andthenoun，oaf；betweenthem，theycompletehisportrait。Hecouldlounge，andwriggle，andrubhimselfagainstthewall，andgrin，andbemoreineverybody’swaythananyothertwopeoplethatIeversetmyeyeson。Nothingthathedidbecamehim；andyetyouwereconsciousthathewasoneofyourownrace，thathismindwascumbrouslyatwork，revolvingtheproblemofexistencelikeaquidofgum，andinhisowncloudymannerenjoyinglife，andpassingjudgmentonhisfellows。Aboveallthings，hewasdelightedwithhimself。Youwouldnothavethoughtit，fromhisuneasymannersandtroubled，strugglingutterance；buthelovedhimselftothemarrow，andwashappyandproudlikeapeacockonarail。
Hisself—esteemwas，indeed，theonejointinhisharness。
Hecouldbegottowork，andevenkeptatwork，byflattery。
Aslongasmywifestoodoverhim，cryingouthowstronghewas，solongexactlyhewouldsticktothematterinhand；
andthemomentsheturnedherback，orceasedtopraisehim，hewouldstop。Hisphysicalstrengthwaswonderful；andtohaveawomanstandbyandadmirehisachievements，warmedhisheartlikesunshine。Yethewasascowardlyashewaspowerful，andfeltnoshameinowningtotheweakness。
Somethingwasoncewantedfromthecrazyplatformovertheshaft，andheatoncerefusedtoventurethere—"didnotlike，"ashesaid，"foolen’roundthemkindo’places，"andletmywifegoinsteadofhim，lookingonwithagrin。
Vanity，whereitrules，isusuallymoreheroic：butIrvinesteadilyapprovedhimself，andexpectedotherstoapprovehim；ratherlookeddownuponmywife，anddecidedlyexpectedhertolookuptohim，onthestrengthofhissuperiorprudence。
Yetthestrangestpartofthewholematterwasperhapsthis，thatIrvinewasasbeautifulasastatue。Hisfeatureswere，inthemselves，perfect；itwasonlyhiscloudy，uncouth，andcoarseexpressionthatdisfiguredthem。Somuchstrengthresidinginsospareaframewasproofsufficientoftheaccuracyofhisshape。HemusthavebeenbuiltsomewhatafterthepatternofJackSheppard；butthefamoushousebreaker，wemaybecertain，wasnolout。Itwasbytheextraordinarypowersofhismindnolessthanbythevigourofhisbody，thathebrokehisstrongprisonwithsuchimperfectimplements，turningtheveryobstaclestoservice。
Irvine，inthesamecase，wouldhavesatdownandspat，andgrumbledcurses。Hehadthesoulofafatsheep，but，regardedasanartist’smodel，theexteriorofaGreekGod。
Itwasacruelthoughttopersonslessfavouredintheirbirth，thatthiscreature，endowed—tousethelanguageoftheatres—withextraordinary"means，"shouldsomanagetomisemploythemthathelookeduglyandalmostdeformed。Itwasonlybyaneffortofabstraction，andaftermanydays，thatyoudiscoveredwhathewas。
Byplayingontheoaf’sconceit，andstandingcloselyoverhim，wegotapathmaderoundthecornerofthedumptoourdoor，sothatwecouldcomeandgowithdecentease；andheevenenjoyedthework，forinthattherewereboulderstobepluckedupbodily，bushestobeuprooted，andotheroccasionsforathleticdisplay：butcuttingwoodwasadifferentmatter。Anybodycouldcutwood；and，besides，mywifewastiredofsupervisinghim，andhadotherthingstoattendto。
And，inshort，dayswentby，andIrvinecamedaily，andtalkedandloungedandspat；butthefirewoodremainedintactassleepersontheplatformorgrowingtreesuponthemountainside。Irvine，asawoodcutter，wecouldtolerate；
butIrvineasafriendofthefamily，atsomuchaday，wastoobaldanimposition，andatlength，ontheafternoonofthefourthorfifthdayofourconnection，Iexplainedtohim，asclearlyasIcould，thelightinwhichIhadgrowntoregardhispresence。IpointedouttohimthatIcouldnotcontinuetogivehimasalaryforspittingonthefloor；andthisexpression，whichcameafteragoodmanyothers，atlastpenetratedhisobduratewits。Heroseatonce，andsaidifthatwasthewayhewasgoingtobespoketo，hereckonedhewouldquit。And，nooneinterposing，hedeparted。
Sofar，sogood。Butwehadnofirewood。Thenextafternoon，IstrolleddowntoRufe’sandconsultedhimonthesubject。Itwasaverydrollinterview，inthelarge，barenorthroomoftheSilveradoHotel，Mrs。Hanson’spatchworkonaframe，andRufe，andhiswife，andI，andtheoafhimself，allmoreorlessembarrassed。RufeannouncedtherewasnobodyintheneighbourhoodbutIrvinewhocoulddoaday’sworkforanybody。Irvine，thereupon，refusedtohaveanymoretodowithmyservice；he"wouldn’tworknomoreforamanashadspoketohim’sIhaddone。"Ifoundmyselfonthepointofthelasthumiliation—driventobeseechthecreaturewhomIhadjustdismissedwithinsult：butItookthehighhandindespair，saidtheremustbenotalkofIrvinecomingbackunlessmattersweretobedifferentlymanaged；thatIwouldratherchopfirewoodformyselfthanbefooled；and，inshort，theHansonsbeingeagerforthelad’shire，Isoimposeduponthemwithmerelyaffectedresolution，thattheyendedbybeggingmetore—employhimagain，onasolemnpromisethatheshouldbemoreindustrious。Thepromise，Iamboundtosay，waskept。Wesoonhadafinepileoffirewoodatourdoor；andifCalibangavemethecoldshoulderandsparedmehisconversation，Ithoughtnonetheworseofhimforthat，nordidIfindmydaysmuchlongerforthedeprivation。
Theleadingspiritofthefamilywas，Iaminclinedtofancy，Mrs。Hanson。Hersocialbrilliancysomewhatdazzledtheothers，andshehadmoreofthesmallchangeofsense。ItwasshewhofacedKelmar，forinstance；andperhaps，ifshehadbeenalone，Kelmarwouldhavehadnorulewithinherdoors。Rufe，tobesure，hadafine，sober，open—airattitudeofmind，seeingtheworldwithoutexaggeration—
perhaps，wemayevensay，withoutenough；forhelacked，alongwiththeothers，thatcommercialidealismwhichputssohighavalueontimeandmoney。Sanityitselfisakindofconvention。PerhapsRufewaswrong；but，lookingonlifeplainly，hewasunabletoperceivethatcroquetorpokerwereinanywaylessimportantthan，forinstance，mendinghiswaggon。Evenhisownprofession，hunting，wasdeartohimmainlyasasortofplay；eventhathewouldhaveneglected，haditnotappealedtohisimagination。Hishunting—suit，forinstance，hadcostIshouldbeafraidtosayhowmanybucks—thecurrencyinwhichhepaidhisway：itwasallbefringed，aftertheIndianfashion，anditwasdeartohisheart。Thepictorialsideofhisdailybusinesswasneverforgotten。Hewasevenanxioustostandforhispictureinthosebuckskinhuntingclothes；andIrememberhowheoncewarmedalmostintoenthusiasm，hisdarkblueeyesgrowingperceptiblylarger，asheplannedthecompositioninwhichheshouldappear，"withthehornsofsomerealbigbucks，anddogs，andacamponacrick"（creek，stream）。
TherewasnotraceinIrvineofthiswoodlandpoetry。Hedidnotcareforhunting，noryetforbuckskinsuits。Hehadneverobservedscenery。Theworld，asitappearedtohim，wasalmostobliteratedbyhisowngreatgrinningfigureintheforeground：CalibanMalvolio。Anditseemstomeasif，inthepersonsofthesebrothers—in—law，wehadthetwosidesofrusticityfairlywellrepresented：thehunterlivingreallyinnature；theclodhopperlivingmerelyoutofsociety：theonebentupineverycorporalagenttocapacityinonepursuit，doingatleastonethingkeenlyandthoughtfully，andthoroughlyalivetoallthattouchesit；
theotherintheinertandbestialstate，walkinginafaintdream，andtakingsodimanimpressionofthemyriadsidesoflifethatheistrulyconsciousofnothingbuthimself。Itisonlyinthefastnessesofnature，forests，mountains，andthebackofman’sbeyond，thatacreatureendowedwithfivesensescangrowupintotheperfectionofthiscrassandearthyvanity。Intownsorthebusiercountrysides，heisroughlyremindedofothermen’sexistence；andifhelearnsnomore，helearnsatleasttofearcontempt。ButIrvinehadcomescathelessthroughlife，consciousonlyofhimself，ofhisgreatstrengthandintelligence；andinthesilenceoftheuniverse，towhichhedidnotlisten，dwellingwithdelightonthesoundofhisownthoughts。
THESEAFOGS
ACHANGEinthecolourofthelightusuallycalledmeinthemorning。Byacertainhour，thelong，verticalchinksinourwesterngable，wheretheboardshadshrunkandseparated，flashedsuddenlyintomyeyesasstripesofdazzlingblue，atoncesodarkandsplendidthatIusedtomarvelhowthequalitiescouldbecombined。Atanearlierhour，theheavensinthatquarterwerestillquietlycoloured，buttheshoulderofthemountainwhichshutsinthecanyonalreadyglowedwithsunlightinawonderfulcompoundofgoldandroseandgreen；
andthistoowouldkindle，althoughmoremildlyandwithrainbowtints，thefissuresofourcrazygable。IfIweresleepingheavily，itwastheboldbluethatstruckmeawake；
ifmorelightly，thenIwouldcometomyselfinthatearlierandfairierfight。
OneSundaymorning，aboutfive，thefirstbrightnesscalledme。Iroseandturnedtotheeast，notformydevotions，butforair。Thenighthadbeenverystill。Thelittleprivategalethatbleweveryeveninginourcanyon，fortenminutesorperhapsaquarterofanhour，hadswiftlyblownitselfout；inthehoursthatfollowednotasighofwindhadshakenthetreetops；andourbarrack，forallitsbreaches，waslessfreshthatmorningthanofwont。ButIhadnosoonerreachedthewindowthanIforgotallelseinthesightthatmetmyeyes，andImadebuttwoboundsintomyclothes，anddownthecrazyplanktotheplatform。
Thesunwasstillconcealedbelowtheoppositehilltops，thoughitwasshiningalready，nottwentyfeetabovemyhead，onourownmountainslope。Butthescene，beyondafewnearfeatures，wasentirelychanged。Napavalleywasgone；gonewereallthelowerslopesandwoodyfoothillsoftherange；
andintheirplace，notathousandfeetbelowme，rolledagreatlevelocean。ItwasasthoughIhadgonetobedthenightbefore，safeinanookofinlandmountains，andhadawakenedinabayuponthecoast。Ihadseentheseinundationsfrombelow；atCalistogaIhadrisenandgoneabroadintheearlymorning，coughingandsneezing，underfathomsonfathomsofgrayseavapour，likeacloudysky—adullsightfortheartist，andapainfulexperiencefortheinvalid。Buttositaloftone’sselfinthepureairandundertheuncloudeddomeofheaven，andthuslookdownonthesubmergenceofthevalley，wasstrangelydifferentandevendelightfultotheeyes。Farawaywerehilltopslikelittleislands。Nearer，asmokysurfbeataboutthefootofprecipicesandpouredintoallthecovesoftheseroughmountains。Thecolourofthatfogoceanwasathingnevertobeforgotten。Foraninstant，amongtheHebridesandjustaboutsundown，Ihaveseensomethinglikeitontheseaitself。Butthewhitewasnotsoopaline；norwasthere，whatsurprisinglyincreasedtheeffect，thatbreathless，crystalstillnessoverall。Eveninitsgentlestmoodsthesaltseatravails，moaningamongtheweedsorlispingonthesand；butthatvastfogoceanlayinatranceofsilence，nordidthesweetairofthemorningtremblewithasound。
AsIcontinuedtosituponthedump，Ibegantoobservethatthisseawasnotsolevelasatfirstsightitappearedtobe。Awayintheextremesouth，alittlehilloffogaroseagainsttheskyabovethegeneralsurface，andasithadalreadycaughtthesun，itshoneonthehorizonlikethetopsailsofsomegiantship。Therewerehugewaves，stationary，asitseemed，likewavesinafrozensea；andyet，asIlookedagain，Iwasnotsurebuttheyweremovingafterall，withaslowandaugustadvance。AndwhileIwasyetdoubting，apromontoryofthesomefourorfivemilesaway，conspicuousbyabouquetoftallpines，wasinasingleinstantovertakenandswallowedup。Itreappearedinalittle，withitspines，butthistimeasanislet，andonlytobeswalloweduponcemoreandthenforgood。Thissetmelookingnearer，andIsawthatineverycovealongthelineofmountainsthefogwasbeingpiledinhigherandhigher，asthoughbysomewindthatwasinaudibletome。Icouldtraceitsprogress，onepinetreefirstgrowinghazyandthendisappearingafteranother；althoughsometimestherewasnoneofthisfore—runninghaze，butthewholeopaquewhiteoceangaveastartandswallowedapieceofmountainatagulp。ItwastofleethesepoisonousfogsthatIhadlefttheseaboard，andclimbedsohighamongthemountains。Andnow，behold，herecamethefogtobesiegemeinmychosenaltitudes，andyetcamesobeautifullythatmyfirstthoughtwasofwelcome。
Thesunhadnowgottenmuchhigher，andthroughallthegapsofthehillsitcastlongbarsofgoldacrossthatwhiteocean。Aneagle，orsomeotherverygreatbirdofthemountain，camewheelingoverthenearerpine—tops，andhung，poisedandsomethingsideways，asiftolookabroadonthatunwonteddesolation，spying，perhapswithterror，fortheeyriesofhercomrades。Then，withalongcry，shedisappearedagaintowardsLakeCountyandtheclearerair。
Atlengthitseemedtomeasifthefloodwerebeginningtosubside。Theoldlandmarks，bywhosedisappearanceIhadmeasureditsadvance，hereacrag，thereabravepinetree，nowbegan，intheinverseorder，tomaketheirreappearanceintodaylight。Ijudgedalldangerofthefogwasover。
ThiswasnotNoah’sflood；itwasbutamorningspring，andwouldnowdriftoutseawardwhenceitcame。So，mightilyrelieved，andagooddealexhilaratedbythesight，Iwentintothehousetolightthefire。
IsupposeitwasnearlysevenwhenIoncemoremountedtheplatformtolookabroad。ThefogoceanhadswelledupenormouslysincelastIsawit；andafewhundredfeetbelowme，inthedeepgapwheretheTollHousestandsandtheroadrunsthroughintoLakeCounty，ithadalreadytoppedtheslope，andwaspouringoveranddowntheothersidelikedrivingsmoke。Thewindhadclimbedalongwithit；andthoughIwasstillincalmair，Icouldseethetreestossingbelowme，andtheirlong，stridentsighingmountedtomewhereIstood。
Halfanhourlater，thefoghadsurmountedalltheridgeontheoppositesideofthegap，thoughashoulderofthemountainstillwardeditoutofourcanyon。Napavalleyanditsboundinghillswerenowutterlyblottedout。Thefog，sunnywhiteinthesunshine，waspouringoverintoLakeCountyinahuge，raggedcataract，tossingtreetopsappearinganddisappearinginthespray。Theairstruckwithalittlechill，andsetmecoughing。Itsmeltstrongofthefog，likethesmellofawashing—house，butwithashrewdtangoftheseasalt。
Haditnotbeenfortwothings—theshelteringspurwhichansweredasadyke，andthegreatvalleyontheothersidewhichrapidlyengulfedwhatevermounted—ourownlittleplatforminthecanyonmusthavebeenalreadyburiedahundredfeetinsaltandpoisonousair。Asitwas，theinterestofthesceneentirelyoccupiedourminds。Weweresetjustoutofthewind，andbutjustabovethefog；wecouldlistentothevoiceoftheoneastomusiconthestage；wecouldplungeoureyesdownintotheother，asintosomeflowingstreamfromovertheparapetofabridge；thuswelookedonuponastrange，impetuous，silent，shiftingexhibitionofthepowersofnature，andsawthefamiliarlandscapechangingfrommomenttomomentlikefiguresinadream。
Theimaginationlovestotriflewithwhatisnot。Hadthisbeenindeedthedeluge，Ishouldhavefeltmorestrongly，buttheemotionwouldhavebeensimilarinkind。Iplayedwiththeidea，asthechildfleesindelightedterrorfromthecreationsofhisfancy。Thelookofthethinghelpedme。
AndwhenatlastIbegantofleeupthemountain，itwasindeedpartlytoescapefromtherawairthatkeptmecoughing，butitwasalsopartinplay。
AsIascendedthemountain—side，Icameoncemoretooverlooktheuppersurfaceofthefog；butitworeadifferentappearancefromwhatIhadbeheldatdaybreak。For，first，thesunnowfellonitfromhighoverhead，anditssurfaceshoneandundulatedlikeagreatnor’landmoorcountry，sheetedwithuntroddenmorningsnow。Andnextthenewlevelmusthavebeenathousandorfifteenhundredfeethigherthantheold，sothatonlyfiveorsixpointsofallthebrokencountrybelowme，stillstoodout。NapavalleywasnowonewithSonomaonthewest。Onthehitherside，onlyathinscatteredfringeofbluffswasunsubmerged；andthroughallthegapsthefogwaspouringover，likeanocean，intotheblueclearsunnycountryontheeast。Thereitwassoonlost；foritfellinstantlyintothebottomofthevalleys，followingthewater—shed；andthehilltopsinthatquarterwerestillclearcutupontheeasternsky。
ThroughtheTollHousegapandoverthenearridgesontheotherside，thedelugewasimmense。Asprayofthinvapourwasthrownhighaboveit，risingandfalling，andblownintofantasticshapes。Thespeedofitscoursewaslikeamountaintorrent。Hereandthereafewtreetopswerediscoveredandthenwhelmedagain；andforonesecond，theboughofadeadpinebeckonedoutofthespraylikethearmofadrowningman。Butstilltheimaginationwasdissatisfied，stilltheearwaitedforsomethingmore。Hadthisindeedbeenwater（asitseemedso，totheeye），withwhataplungeofreverberatingthunderwouldithaverolleduponitscourse，disembowellingmountainsandderacinatingpines!Andyetwateritwas，andsea—wateratthat—truePacificbillows，onlysomewhatrarefied，rollinginmidairamongthehilltops。
Iclimbedstillhigher，amongtheredrattlinggravelanddwarfunderwoodofMountSaintHelena，untilIcouldlookrightdownuponSilverado，andadmirethefavourednookinwhichitlay。Thesunnyplainoffogwasseveralhundredfeethigher；behindtheprotectingspuragiganticaccumulationofcottonyvapourthreatened，witheverysecond，toblowoverandsubmergeourhomestead；butthevortexsettingpasttheTollHousewastoostrong；andtherelayourlittleplatform，inthearmsofthedeluge，butstillenjoyingitsunbrokensunshine。Abouteleven，however，thinspraycameflyingoverthefriendlybuttress，andIbegantothinkthefoghadhuntedoutitsJonahafterall。Butitwasthelasteffort。Thewindveeredwhilewewereatdinner，andbegantoblowsquallyfromthemountainsummit；andbyhalf—pastone，allthatworldofsea—fogswasutterlyroutedandflyinghereandthereintothesouthinlittleragsofcloud。Andinsteadofalonesea—beach，wefoundourselvesoncemoreinhabitingahighmountainside，withthecleargreencountryfarbelowus，andthelightsmokeofCalistogablowingintheair。
ThiswasthegreatRussiancampaignforthatseason。Nowandthen，intheearlymorning，alittlewhitelakeletoffogwouldbeseenfardowninNapaValley；buttheheightswerenotagainassailed，norwasthesurroundingworldagainshutofffromSilverado。
THETOLLHOUSE
THETollHouse，standingalonebythewaysideundernoddingpines，withitsstreamletandwater—tank；itsbackwoods，toll—bar，andwelltroddencroquetground；theostlerstandingbythestabledoor，chewingastraw；aglimpseoftheChinesecookinthebackparts；andMr。Hoddyinthebar，gravelyalertandserviceable，andequallyanxioustolendorborrowbooks；—dozedalldayinthedustysunshine，morethanhalfasleep。Therewerenoneighbours，excepttheHansonsupthehill。Thetrafficontheroadwasinfinitesimal；only，atrareintervals，acoupleinawaggon，oradustyfarmeronaspringboard，toilingover"thegrade"
tothatmetropolitanhamlet，Calistoga；and，atthefixedhours，thepassageofthestages。
Thenearestbuildingwastheschool—house，downtheroad；andtheschool—ma’amboardedattheTollHouse，walkingthenceinthemorningtothelittlebrownshanty，whereshetaughttheyoungonesofthedistrict，andreturningthitherprettywearyintheafternoon。Shehadchosenthisoutlyingsituation，Iunderstood，forherhealth。Mr。Corwinwasconsumptive；sowasRufe；sowasMr。Jennings，theengineer。
Inshort，theplacewasakindofsmallDavos：consumptivefolkconsortingonahilltopinthemostunbrokenidleness。
JenningsneverdidanythingthatIcouldsee，exceptnowandthentofish，andgenerallytositaboutinthebarandtheverandah，waitingforsomethingtohappen。CorwinandRufedidaslittleaspossible；andiftheschool—ma’am，poorlady，hadtoworkprettyhardallmorning，shesubsidedwhenitwasoverintomuchthesamedazedbeatitudeasalltherest。
Herspecialcornerwastheparlour—averygenteelroom，withBibleprints，acrayonportraitofMrs。Corwinintheheightoffashion，afewyearsago，anotherofherson（Mr。
Corwinwasnotrepresented），amirror，andaselectionofdriedgrasses。Alargebookwaslaidreligiouslyonthetable—"FromPalacetoHovel，"Ibelieve，itsname—fulloftheraciestexperiencesinEngland。Theauthorhadmingledfreelywithallclasses，thenobilityparticularlymeetinghimwithopenarms；andImustsaythattravellerhadillrequitedhisreception。Hisbook，inshort，wasacapitalinstanceofthePennyMessalinaschoolofliterature；andtherearosefromit，inthatcoolparlour，inthatsilent，wayside，mountaininn，arankatmosphereofgoldandbloodand"Jenkins，"andthe"MysteriesofLondon，"andsickening，invertedsnobbery，fittoknockyoudown。Thementionofthisbookremindsmeofanotherandfarracierpictureofourislandlife。ThelatterpartsofROCAMBOLEaresurelytoosparinglyconsultedinthecountrywhichtheycelebrate。Noman’seducationcanbesaidtobecomplete，norcanhepronouncetheworldyetemptiedofenjoyment，tillhehasmadetheacquaintanceof"theReverendPatterson，directoroftheEvangelicalSociety。"Tofollowtheevolutionsofthatreverendgentleman，whogoesthroughscenesinwhichevenMr。