Shortly after leaving Cordova we passed through an Indian village;
but, except at this point, we did not meet many natives during our
ride. One poor woman, however, whom we did unfortunately encounter,
had a fall from her horse, owing to the animal being frightened at the
umbrella I carried, yet my own horse had, after a very brief
objection, quietly submitted to the introduction of this novelty into
the equipment of his rider.
[Illustration: La Calera.]
We found that the hotel on the Caldera for which we were bound was
shut up; but one of the party had the keys, and an excellent lunch
quickly made its appearance. The view from the verandah, over the
river, to the Sierras beyond, was very fine. It had become quite hot
by this time, and I was much interested in seeing all our horses taken
down to the water to bathe. They appeared to be perfectly familiar
with the process; and, the river being shallow, they picked out all
the nice holes between the boulders, where they could lie down and be
completely covered by the water. Just as we were starting to return,
black clouds gathered from all around; the lightning flashed, the
thunder muttered, and big drops began to fall. But the storm was not
of long duration, and we escaped the worst part of it, though we had
ample evidence of its severity during our homeward ride, in the
slippery ground, the washed-away paths, and the swollen ditches.
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