MOJAVE INDIAN 5 BIRD'S-EYE VIEW OF RIVERSIDE 7 SCENE IN SAN BERNARDINO 11 SCENES IN MONTECITO AND LOS ANGELES 13 FAN-PALM, LOS ANGELES 16 YUCCA-PALM, SANTA BARBARA 17 MAGNOLIA AVENUE, RIVERSIDE 21 AVENUE LOS ANGELES 27 IN THE GARDEN AT SANTA BARBARA MISSION 31 SCENE AT PASADENA 35 LIVE-OAK NEAR LOS ANGELES 39 MIDWINTER, PASADENA 53 A TYPICAL GARDEN, NEAR SANTA ANA 57 OLD ADOBE HOUSE, POMONA 61 FAN-PALM, FERNANDO ST. LOS ANGELES 63 SCARLET PASSION-VINE 68 ROSE-BUSH, SANTA BARBARA 73 AT AVALON, SANTA CATALINA ISLAND 77 HOTEL DEL CORONADO 83 OSTRICH YARD, CORONADO BEACH 86 YUCCA-PALM 92 DATE-PALM 93 RAISIN-CURING 101 IRRIGATION BY ARTESIAN-WELL SYSTEM 104 IRRIGATION BY PIPE SYSTEM 105 GARDEN SCENE, SANTA ANA 110 A GRAPE-VINE, MONTECITO VALLEY, SANTA BARBARA 116 IRRIGATING AN ORCHARD 120 ORANGE CULTURE 121 IN A FIELD OF GOLDEN PUMPKINS 126 PACKING CHERRIES, POMONA 131 OLIVE-TREES SIX YEARS OLD 136 SEXTON NURSERIES, NEAR SANTA BARBARA 141 SWEETWATER DAM 144 THE YOSEMITE DOME 151 COAST OF MONTEREY 155 CYPRESS POINT 156 NEAR SEAL ROCK 157 LAGUNA—FROM THE SOUTH-EAST 159 CHURCH AT LAGUNA 164 TERRACED HOUSES, PUEBLO OF LAGUNA 167 GRAND CAÑON ON THE COLORADO—VIEW FROM POINT SUBLIME 171 INTERIOR OF THE CHURCH AT LAGUNA 174 GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO—VIEW OPPOSITE POINT SUBLIME 179 TOURISTS IN THE COLORADO CAÑON 183 GRAND CAÑON OF THE COLORADO—VIEW FROM THE HANSE TRAIL 191
OUR ITALY.
CHAPTER I.
HOW OUR ITALY IS MADE.
The traveller who descends into Italy by an Alpine pass never forgets the surprise and delight of the transition. In an hour he is whirled down the slopes from the region of eternal snow to the verdure of spring or the ripeness of summer. Suddenly—it may be at a turn in the road—winter is left behind; the plains of Lombardy are in view; the Lake of Como or Maggiore gleams below; there is a tree; there is an orchard; there is a garden; there is a villa overrun with vines; the singing of birds is heard; the air is gracious; the slopes are terraced, and covered with vineyards; great sheets of silver sheen in the landscape mark the growth of the olive; the dark green orchards of oranges and lemons are starred with gold; the lusty fig, always a temptation as of old, leans invitingly over the stone wall; everywhere are bloom and color under the blue sky; there are shrines by the way-side, chapels on the hill; one hears the melodious bells, the call of the vine-dressers, the laughter of girls.
The contrast is as great from the Indians of the Mojave Desert, two types of which are here given, to the vine-dressers of the Santa Ana Valley.
Italy is the land of the imagination, but the sensation on first beholding it from the northern heights, aside from its associations of romance and poetry, can be repeated in our own land by whoever will cross the burning desert of Colorado, or the savage wastes of the Mojave wilderness of stone and sage-brush, and come suddenly, as he must come by train, into the bloom of Southern California. Let us study a little the physical conditions.
The bay of San Diego is about three hundred miles east of San Francisco. The coast line runs south-east, but at Point Conception it turns sharply east, and then curves south-easterly about two hundred and fifty miles to the Mexican coast boundary, the extreme south-west limits of the United States, a few miles below San Diego. This coast, defined by these two limits, has a southern exposure on the sunniest of oceans. Off this coast, south of Point Conception, lies a chain of islands, curving in position in conformity with the shore, at a distance of twenty to seventy miles from the main-land. These islands are San Miguel, Santa Rosa, Santa Cruz, Anacapa, Santa Barbara, San Nicolas, Santa Catalina, San Clemente, and Los Coronados, which lie in Mexican waters. Between this chain of islands and the main-land is Santa Barbara Channel, flowing northward. The great ocean current from the north flows past Point Conception like a mill-race, and makes a suction, or a sort of eddy. It approaches nearer the coast in Lower California, where the return current, which is much warmer, flows northward and westward along the curving shore. The Santa Barbara Channel, which may be called an arm of the Pacific, flows by many a bold point and lovely bay, like those of San Pedro, Redondo, and Santa Monica; but it has no secure harbor, except the magnificent and unique bay of San Diego.
The southern and western boundary of Southern California is this mild Pacific sea, studded with rocky and picturesque islands. The northern boundary of this region is ranges of lofty mountains, from five thousand to eleven thousand feet in height, some of them always snow-clad, which run eastward from Point Conception nearly to the Colorado Desert. They are parts of the Sierra Nevada range, but they take various names, Santa Ynes, San Gabriel, San Bernardino, and they are spoken of all together as the Sierra Madre. In the San Gabriel group, "Old Baldy" lifts its snow-peak over nine thousand feet, while the San Bernardino "Grayback" rises over eleven thousand feet above the sea. Southward of this, running down into San Diego County, is the San Jacinto range, also snow-clad; and eastward the land falls rapidly away into the Salt Desert of the Colorado, in which is a depression about three hundred feet below the Pacific.
The Point Arguilles, which is above Point Conception, by the aid of the outlying islands, deflects the cold current from the north off the coast of Southern California, and the mountain ranges from Point Conception east divide the State of California into two climatic regions, the southern having more warmth, less rain and fog, milder winds, and less variation of daily temperature than the climate of Central California to the north.[A] Other striking climatic conditions are produced by the daily interaction of the Pacific Ocean and the Colorado Desert, infinitely diversified in minor particulars by the exceedingly broken character of the region—a jumble of bare mountains, fruitful foot-hills, and rich valleys. It would be only from a balloon that one could get an adequate idea of this strange land.
The United States has here, then, a unique corner of the earth, without its like in its own vast territory, and unparalleled, so far as I know, in the world. Shut off from sympathy with external conditions by the giant mountain ranges and the desert wastes, it has its own climate unaffected by cosmic changes. Except a tidal wave from Japan, nothing would seem to be able to affect or disturb it. The whole of Italy feels more or less the climatic variations of the rest of Europe. All our Atlantic coast, all our interior basin from Texas to Manitoba, is in climatic sympathy. Here is a region larger than New England which manufactures its own weather and refuses