I being over-anxious to see Jim, saddled up my Pinto horse the next morning and started for his place, making the ride in one day.  On my arrival I found Jim doing a rushing business in the hotel line, but was just in the act of selling out his hotel to a man from Sacramento.  Beckwith had sold all my horses during the summer at what I thought a good figure, having got fifty dollars per head all around.

The command came on two days later, pitched their tents and stayed two days, having a red hot time.  The men had plenty of money, and Jim Beckwith, who was now running a saloon in connection with his hotel, had plenty of bad whiskey.  The Colonel put very little restriction on his men while they remained there, allowing them to have a general spree, for they had been where there was no chance to spend their money, and the little they had was burning their pockets.

Jim Beckwith made a handsome little clean-up during the two days they were camped there.

When the Colonel was ready to pull out for San Francisco he came to me and invited me to come to the Fort and spend a few months during the winter.  I told him I did not know where I would winter, but preferred to seek quarters where I could hunt for a livelihood.  I told him I did not wish to put in another winter lounging around as I did the last one.  The Colonel made me a proposition to come to the Fort after I had visited my friend, Jim Beckwith, saying that he would organize a hunting party among the officers and take a trip north of San Francisco on the Russian river.

The country to which we wished to go is now Sonoma County, Cal., of which Santa Rosa is the county seat.  In fact the region is now called Santa Rosa Valley, and it is well named, for it is a great garden of roses and other beautiful flowers that grow indigenously and in luxurious profusion.  At the head of the valley are the famous geysers of California.

The Colonel, after dividing the horses with me, started for the Fort, I agreeing to join him there in a few weeks for the hunt.

After remaining at Jim Beckwith’s for a few days, he and a gentleman from Sacramento came to a trade, Jim selling out “slick and clean.”

Jim had too much money to stay in the mountains.  I saw $12,000 weighed out to him in gold-dust, and I don’t know how much coin he had, but there were several thousand dollars of it.

“Now we will go to San Francisco for the winter,” said he, “and will have a good time.  You stay with me this winter, and it shan’t cost you a cent.”

We took our horses and started for Sacramento, making the trip in four days Here we boarded a boat for the bay.

In those days persons speaking of going to San Francisco, always spoke of it as “going to the bay.”

The second morning after our arrival, I found at the feed-yard, where my horses were, a gentleman awaiting my arrival, who wanted to buy my stock.