Thence rolling rapidly down the tortuous track, we skirt along the bases of high hills, follow the windings of a charming little narrow valley, rumbling through two or three strong frame bridges, for twelve miles, when
Niles,
And its junction, with "change cars for San Jose," notify us that we have fairly pa.s.sed the hills, and entered upon the fertile plains which gently slope from the foothills to the bay, whose southern portion is our first glimpse of Pacific salt water. At Niles we can take the San Jose cars, and go round, through that city, to San Francisco, all the way by land, if we particularly desire to accomplish the whole transit on wheels. If we do that, we shall travel forty miles further than by keeping straight on from Niles through
Decoto,
which is but two miles. Decoto is one of the "going to be" towns. At present it exists chiefly in the future tense. Nine miles still between the rolling foothills on the right and the almost level plains stretching away bayward, brings us to
San Lorenzo,
Which presents nothing of special note beyond a quiet, restful-looking town, quite refreshing to the tired and dusty tourist. Thence four miles, and
San Leandro,
Town and creek, arrest our train for sixty seconds. The court house, jail, a large agricultural implement factory, with several stores, one or two hotels and a newspaper, invest this pleasant town with all the dignity of a comfortable county seat. Seven miles from San Leandro, is
Brooklyn,
A thriving, go-ahead town of two thousand inhabitants nights, and about seventeen hundred by day, when a good seventh of its denizens are away at their business in San Francisco. Thence a short two miles, and we stop again at
Oakland,
The tree-embowered city named by nature, and chosen by man for charming homes and quiet halls of learning.
Moving once more, and for the last time, we steam by the hedges, gardens, cottages and mansions along the southwest suburb, and roll slowly out two miles along a strongly built pier, over the shallow margin of the bay, or the undisguised flats, according to the tide, and "down brakes" for good on the last rails of the great iron way across the continent, and over the waters of another ocean. An elegant ferry-boat, "El Capitan," quickly receives us, and, in fifteen minutes, the San Francisco pier welcomes us to the Occidental metropolis, and our journey is done. Turn, now, to the paragraph on hacks and hotels; let one take you to the other, bathe, eat and sleep, and next morning, hunt up the "Short Excursions in and about San Francisco," and devote yourself to cultivating the Pacific metropolis.
Lake Tahoe.
This beautiful mountain lake lies along the eastern margins of Placer and El Dorado counties. The State line between California and Nevada pa.s.ses through it, lengthwise, from north to south. We reach it by stage from the Central Pacific railroad at Truckee, in three hours, over a variable road, through scenery often beautiful, and for the extravagant fare of $3.00.
The lake is one mile and a quarter above the sea level. It is itself a little inland sea, thirty miles long, from eight to fifteen wide, and in places nearly two thousand feet deep. Its water is clear as crystal, cold as the melting ice and snows which feed it, and the purest known upon the continent. Floating upon its surface, and looking down through its water, one can easily count the pebbles and stones along its gravelly bottom at the depth of sixty feet. One seems suspended between two firmaments of ether, with birds flying above and fish swimming below. And such trout! swimming forty feet beneath you, and plainly visible in all their quick and graceful motions between you and the rocky bottom.
From the water"s edge, gra.s.sy slopes, pebbly beaches, rocky sh.o.r.es and precipitous bluffs lead the eye up through tree-dotted ravines, over forest-crowned hills to snow-clad mountains, white-headed with age, and ermine-mantled upon their tremendous shoulders.
A small steamer or two ply upon the lake--plenty of good boats await one, and excellent hotels accommodate transient guests, or more permanent boarders.
From Tahoe, back to Truckee, by stage, cross the railroad, and ride out two miles to
Donner Lake,
Smaller, but hardly less beautiful than that just left. Its great beauty in itself, the wild and romantic surrounding scenery, its ease of access and its good hotel, make it a popular summer resort. The tragical circ.u.mstances, seldom equaled in the pioneer history of any country, which gave the name to this lake, may be found graphically narrated in the "Overland Monthly" for July, 1870.
If you visit these charming lakes on your journey to the State you could not have a grander introduction to its scenes of wonder and beauty; if you take them on your return east, you could not possibly carry away more delicious memories of lovelier spots. Whether they bid you "welcome" or "farewell," you will leave them with regret, recall them with delight, and long to return and linger among their matchless charms.