CORRESPONDENCE.

CALIFORNIA FOR EMIGRANTS.

[FROM A CORRESPONDENT.] [In reviewing Mr. Nordhoff's book on "California for Health, Pleasure, and Residence," on November 28 of last year, we gave a full account of that amusing writer's description of California as a land for emigrants. The following entertaining letter was written by a gentleman whom Mr. Nordhoff's descriptions had considerable influence in taking to California, and as in general they justify, though as regards the rapidly-rising price of land, they seriously qualify, the impressions produced by Mr. Nord- hoff's work, we believe they may both interest and amuse our readers.—En. Spectator.] Santa Barbara, Jlarch 29, 1875.

I HAVE only just reached here, having been snowed up two days in the Rocky Mountains. I was altogether fourteen days on the cars, and I need not tell you I was very glad to get off them. I enclose a bunch of flowers that I picked while the train stopped for a few minutes. Six hours before I plucked them we were in a snowshed forty-seven miles long, and the snow was six feet deep all round. I fell asleep in that shed, and when I awoke the change was magical ; everything was green, trees in blossom, grass six inches high, wild flowers everywhere, including ischoltzias and lupins ; and sheep and lambs and cattle were grazing on the hill- sides. In the gardens I noticed green peas and other vegetables ; and at a pond were some Chinamen beating clothes. We left the cars at Sacramento, and took the boat down the river. The country looked lovely—you must remember the rainy season was not quite over—the hills were bright green to their tops, and thousands of cattle were feeding in the flats. We often stopped at the little towns to take in salmon, for it is now the fishing season, which lasts three months, and splendid fish they were, weighing, I should think, from twenty to forty pounds each. We must have had three tons of them on board before we reached San Francisco, for they were piled on the deck three feet high and four or five yards each way. I dined on board, and dined welt We had delicious salmon, fair beef and mutton, excellent vegetables, and several kinds of fruit pies, with good coffee and tea, followed by a dessert of figs and apples, stewed and raw, and several other fresh and dried fruits. 'The charge was two shillings in English money. A man came on board at one of the stations who offered, I was told, forty dollars each per month and their board for three men to milk. We reached San Francisco at nine in the evening, and went in a free coach to the International Hotel. It was full, but the hotel people found me a room outside, and my travelling companions having ladies with them were accommodated in the hotel. For my bed and breakfast I paid only one dollar, and as I ordered beefsteak, potatoes, coffee, corn-bread, and the waiter brought me, in addition, ham and eggs, and fried salmon and honey, I don't think 1 paid too much. After breakfast, as I walked down to the Santa Barbara boat, I saw some pretty little retriever pups hung up in the market for sale with their throats cut, I suppose for the Chinese. There were, at least, fifty Chinese on the boat with us. The country along the coast is pretty, though rather monotonous; the hills rise usually from the water's edge, and at this season are green to the top. There are very few trees on them, and where there were any the view was wonderfully im- proved. It was chilly all the time on the water. To save ex- pense, I and my companion took rooms at Santa Barbara, and the morning after our arrival I went out to buy provisions, while the rest "fixed up." I found beef 3d., 4d., and 5d. a pound ; mutton 4d., pork 5d., potatoes lid., butter is. 4d., and tea from 2s. 6d. to 3s. 4d. per pound. After breakfast I went to a barber to be shaved, who said he had plenty of work, and had the day before taken /4 for his own day's work, without including the earnings of his assistants. He was at work on me five minutes, and charged is., which diminished my surprise at his large earnings. On going out I found the charge painted up on his sign,—if I had seen it before going in he would have made 25 cents less that day. As soon as we landed and got away from the sea-breeze the climate seemed to change, and was simply delight- ful. There is a continual and deliciously cool air stirring, which, if you stand in a draught in thin clothes, is too cool. lam writing this in very thin clothes, in a room without a fire, and with the doors and windows open, and feel neither too hot nor too cold, "but just right." The gardens have in bloom, geraniums, verbenas, roses, nasturtiums, garden daisies, a great bushy plant with lily- like flowers, almond trees with a beautiful pink blossom, and plenty- of others. I am writing this in a very unconnected style, butler- fear of forgetting it I jot down the first thing 1 think of. The butcher of whom I bought three pounds of meat at 10 eenttyand to whom I gave a 50-cent piece, gave me back as change twenty-five cents, being five cents too much, and when I told him, said, "Oh, we don't count five cents in California." This man told me it is never much hotter here or much colder than it is at present, being almost the same all the year round. If this- is true, I don't wonder that invalids from all parts of the States flock to Santa Barbara. The coolness in summer, he said, wall- owing to the constant sea-breeze.

There is an auction of horses here every week, and a gentleman told me he had often seen unbroken horses sold for twenty-five. cents, and sometimes for ten cents each. That was some years since, but even now they are often, I am told, sold for three or- four dollars each, saddle and all.

I hear there are twenty-five doctors in this place, who all have their hands full, as sick people come from all the other States. My informant, a waiter at one of the hotels, complained of their- driving away pleasure visitors from the hotel by their coughings at table. About half the population is on horseback, always at full gallop with spurs as large as the crown of a hat, and Mexican saddles, and with bits that will fling a horse on the root of his tail by a turn of the wrist. Owing to this the horses gallop too much on their haunches, ready to stop at a moment's notice. This morning I took a dip on the beach within two hundred yards of the houses, and as I was coming back I crossed a little- creek not more than fifty yards from them, and started from it a crane, two black divers, and six wild ducks.

San Bernardino, April 5. Before leaving Santa Barbara I saw Dr. B., and had a long chat with him about the climate, the interest on money, &c., He confirmed all that I had heard from different persons in the town about the climate, and said the temperature was almost the same all the year round. Occasionally, perhaps three or four times a year, there is a wind which lasts for twenty-four hours. One- was blowing when I reached Santa Barbara, and I found every- body grumbling and exclaiming against the weather, much to my surprise, as I felt very little discomfort from it, and there are- scores of days both in the Eastern States and in England which are very much worse. In the morning there is, Dr. B. said, a thick fog, which lasts for an hour or two. If what I hear from everybody in Santa Barbara is true, and if I am to take the time I spent here as a fair specimen, I cannot imagine a more beautiful climate ; and the place is pretty, too,—mountains in the distance, and a fine, curved sea-beach many miles long in front. 'The population is, I suppose, over 5,000, and many of the streets

and houses good, and the gardens pretty. In speaking of interest, Dr. B. said that 18 per cent. was the usual rate on good real-estate mortgages, and that he did not think that any security whatever would induce a bank to

loan money at less than 12 per cent. In this place (San Bernardino) the bank charge 24 per cent. The ordinary rate was not long since 24 per cent. in Santa Barbara also, but it had come down to 18 per cent., and Dr. B. thought it would continue to decrease for some years ; but he did not expect

it would go below 12 per cent., as that interest can be got any- where in California. I heard the same statement from every one with whom I talked.

When I reached here (San Bernardino) I went to a boarding- house. The charge is $7 a week ; the board i tolerable, and the lodging consists of a shed built down the garden and divided into rooms. It is very slightly built ; I nearly brought the house down once by leaning against a support which gave way, and I only saved the structure by seizing it by the corner of the roof and holding it up till the support was replaced. Each room contains two cribs, a washstand, a small table, a chest of drawers and two chairs, and has a small carpet in the middle, and on one side a small open fireplace. The landlady said she could have had 75 boarders this winter, if she had had room for them, After meals all the boarders go at once into the garden or on to the piazza.

No one thinks of sitting in-doors. The climate since I came here has been perfect, but I am told that in summer it is very hot,

averaging about 90°. The people say, however, that the heat does-not affect them much, all go on with their work in-doors and out, and that sunstroke is unknown ; and all agree in saying that the nights are always cool and pleasant. Some of the gardens are gloriously beautiful as regards colour and quantity of bloom, -although none seem to receive much care.

The railway will be here soon, and good land with water has consequently doubled in price within the last year, some of it being held at $100 per acre or more, which is disappointing to me.

Money, as I have said, commands 24 per cent.; and a man told me that a person coming here with $5,000, and letting it be known that he would lend at interest, would need nothing else to live upon. A Nova-Scotian gentleman, who is here for his health, and who kills two birds with one stone, says that he discounted a bill lately for $200 at sixty per cent. ! I went with him yesterday to present it, and it was paid at once. There are some large mines over the mountains, and the miners get their supplies here. Some of the stores are good, and clothing seems little dearer than in

-the east. There are two newspapers, several public halls, and two hotels, which are quite insufficient for the demand.

There is not a house to let, and only one for sale. To-day

(April 6th), I went to see a farmer about three miles from here, and had to ford the river on foot, as there is no bridge, and every one is expected to be on horseback in California. The 'farm is owned by an Englishman, and was better cultivated than any I had seen lathe State. He came to this country twenty-two years since as a Mormon, but getting over his Mormonism very quickly, owing to one of the Elders of the Church wanting to seal his wife to himself, he started across the desert, and brought up at San Bernardino fifteen years since, all his property being then a waggon and a yoke of oxen. He knew nothing of farming, but he worked hard, and soon bought 400 acres of land at one dollar fifty cents an acre ; and for this he was offered the other day fifty dollars an acre. Ha complained that the farmers had to sell their produce for goods. This fall, he and some of his twenty-one sons will go into Arizona, with a friend who has just bought there ten leagues of land for a sheep and cattle ranche, at 20 cents, an acre. The climate of Arizona is, this friend says, equal to that of California ; and the land is good and well supplied with water; and as the Southern Pacific Railway will pass through the )(Andre, he expects in ten years or less an enormous rise in the value of the land. Another farmer told me there has been great exaggeration about the pro- ductiveness of grain lands here. He has had an extra good crop of thirty to thirty-five bushels to the acre only twice in 15 years, and in the other years his crops have ranged from ten to twenty bushels to the acre, although his farm is well watered. Fruit plantations pay well, he says, but they take a long time to come to perfection, and in San Bernardino the crops have so far been bartered for goods. My English friend produced an old penknife from his pocket, and after regarding it very affectionately, said he had bought it of a man who said it was English, but he added in a rather desponding way, he did not feel quite sure of it himself. The storekeepers here must do well, paying as they do for all pro- duce in goods on which they have a large profit, and selling these again in San Francisco or New York at another profit.

On May 2, I bought a good horse for 422, and went to a ranche about 60 miles from here, with a letter of introduction to the owner. It is about 17 miles from Los Angeles. As I camped out, my hotel bills were not heavy. The ranche con- tains eight square leagues, and as it has not more than a dozen houses on it, 1 had some difficulty in finding Mr. —. I stopped a week with him as a guest. I see little chance of getting employment, as the country swarms with emigrants. There is, however, plenty of profit in almost any business carried on by yourself. For in- stance, I have just heard of an opening that I think may do. I have met a Boston man here who has kept a dairy farm, and we have talked of a partnership. Milk is 30 cents a gallon, and the supply in the cities is insufficient. I can hire a range of over 9,000 acres of good grass land, well watered, and pay as rent ip a year for each head of cattle. The cattle can be had on shares,—that is, if we take the place, we can have all the milk and half the in- crease, in return for range and herding. All we should have to do would be to put up a corral to keep the cattle together at night, and the wood for that is on the place. I can get a house already built for $50,—of course a mere box. A man here offers to let me pick twenty well-bred milch cows out of a herd of 500 for $25 each ; and two hotels in Los Angeles offer to take 20 gallons of milk a day. The first day I came here three droves of sheep left for Arizona, one numbering 8,000, for the sheep-men are getting crowded out.

May 21.

In another letter you have my reasons for not going on with the milk business, and you will know I did not give it up because I doubted its success. I rode back to San Bernardino, camping out twice on the way, partly because I like it, and partly to save my money. Last night I lighted a fire and cooked my meat on the end of a stick, and enjoyed my meal and rest greatly. My blanket, Ulster, and air-pillow might have been bought on pur- pose, and I would not be without them for a good deal. My poor horse, too, enjoyed his feed and rest as much as I did mine. This morning I rode a few miles before breakfast, and about nine o'clock I reached a little gully at the base of the foot-hills, with a clear stream of water at the bottom, fringed with willows ; and here I unsaddled and staked my horse, and built a fire on a little table-land above the stream and cooked my breakfast. After a good meal, I bathed in the stream, and as I carry towel, soap, and brush in my saddle-bags, I had a good wash, and then I sat down to write part of this. I have worked very hard for three weeks from daylight to dark, and the rest feels very pleasant. The weather so far has been heavenly. I am sitting on the bank, without coat or waistcoat, and out of the shade, and although the sun comes out hot every now and then for a few minutes, I have not taken the trouble to walk to a willow twenty yards off for shade. There is always a delicious breeze stirring, not blowing, especially within thirty miles of the sea, which makes the hottest day that I have seen (93° to 95°) pleasant. The air seems never to be hot, for as soon as you get into the shade you are cool at once. Unlike the East, where in summer you pant in the sun and shade and in the night- time alike. Game is very plentiful and wonderfully tame here. I ride by rabbits a dozen times a day which I could reach with my long riding-switch as they sit up and stare curiously at me. This morning I rode within a yard of a big turkey blizzard before he would get up, and then he only flew half-a-dozen yards. On the whole, I do not like this part of California between Los Angeles and San Bernardino so well as the country round Santa Barbara, and I have decided to settle in or near the latter place. A house here does not cost anything to many people in the summer, for the very simple reason that they don't have one ; and in the rainy season one can be built that will do very well for $20. I saw a man the other day sitting on a chair at a table eating his dinner under a tree, with a stove on one side and a bedstead on the other, and all the furniture of a house around him, and not a house within five miles, and he looked very jolly. I have heard of houses without fire-places, but I was rather surprised the other day when I came upon a nice fire-place with a good chimney and everything, and no house. This life agrees very well with my health, and in spite of hard work, &c., I rapidly increase in weight. I never wear any coat or vest, and have, when in the country, my shirt open to my waist, a thing I could never stand in the East.

Living is for those who keep house, cheaper here, I think,

than in England. This is the only part of America where I have found English people saying they would not live in any other part of the world ; elsewhere in the States they usually look back with longing to England. Here they say they would like to visit England, but they could not bear the climate after this. I am lying in the middle of a great plain with mountains all round, some above the clouds ; the grass is high, and thousands of cattle and horses are grazing on it. I have just made my fire of cattle- chips, and have taken a hearty meal and a drink at the stream. My horse is tied to my saddle, as there is not a stick or stone for miles. He is lying down, tired of eating. I have just had a slight dispute with a bull for the possession of this camp. On seeing me on foot he came up and tried to drive me off, and I had

to get on my horse and go for him with a lasso, of which all cattle here are very frightened, before he would be off. It is getting too dark to write. Just now I looked up, and there was an immense owl hovering just over my head. My horse is thin with so much work, and hasn't known what was the matter to- day, taking things so easily. He is literally "in clover" now, and keeps lying down, and then, fancying he can eat a bit more, getting up to try, and finding he can't, gives a great sigh, and stands around irresolutely, and presently lies down again and rolls over. He has now gone down to the stream, to see if he can drink.

When I woke up yesterday morning, I found the stream by which I had slept, had dried up, and I cannot account for it at all ; but things play such queer tricks here, that I have left off trying to account for them. For instance, on a level plain you come to a hole thirty or forty yards long, ten wide, and ten or twelve feet deep, with the bottom flat and the sides smooth, as if cut with a spade. Such a hole is called here a "wash-out," and people say the earth is washed out by the rain, but I want to know where the earth goes to that comes out of the hole. There is no sign of it anywhere, and often no fall that would allow it to be carried away. I hear a great many people are returning east by every train, as the thing has been overdone for men without money, and they cannot get employment.

Santa Barbara, June 10.

On my way to here I passed through Carpentaria, about twelve miles to the east of this place, on the sea-shore, and was delighted with it. The surrounding country is lovely, and it is the first place that I have seen in California to which I could apply the word. It is not a town, or even a village, but a block of land eight or ten miles square, with the sea on one side and hills behind and on one side, and it is as green and well wooded as England. It is thickly settled, and has numerous and handsome farmhouses in it. The land is very good, and sells at from $50 to $150 per acre. I would rather have an acre there than fifty in San Bernardino. At this place they grow, besides other crops, vegetables for San Francisco, especially potatoes, which, they say, pay tremendously. The climate is like that of Santa Barbara, and that is high praise, but the country around that town, though pretty, is not so beautiful as this district. It is very little warmer here now than it was in March. Since my return I have eaten figs, pears, apricots, blackberries, cherries, straw- berries, gooseberries, currants, oranges, and lemons ; and there are plums, limes, and I don't know what else for sale everywhere. I hope to settle at or near Santa Barbara.