span what seem, from the car-windows, like bottomless chasms, needs must
hold some compensation at the end to counterbalance the fears engendered on
the way. The higher one goes the more beautiful becomes the scenery among
the wild, marvellous redwoods that stand like mammoth guides pointing
heavenward; and Beacham's realizes expectation.

It is a quiet little place, with its one hotel and two attached cottages,
its old, disused saw-mill, its tiny schoolhouse beyond the fairy-like
woods, its one general merchandise store, where cheese and calico, hats and
hoes, ham and hominy, are forthcoming upon solicitation. It is by no means
a fashionable resort; the Levices had searched for something as unlike the
Del Monte and Coronado as milk is unlike champagne. They were looking for
a pretty, healthful spot, with good accommodations and few social
attractions, and Beacham's offered this.

They were not disappointed. Ruth's anticipation was fulfilled when she saw
the river. Russian River is about as pretty a stream as one can view upon
a summer's day. Here at Beacham's it is very narrow and shallow, with low,
shelving beaches on either bank; but in the tiny row-boat which she
immediately secured, Ruth pushed her way into enchantment. The river winds
in and out through exquisite coves entangled in a wilderness of brambles
and lace-like ferns that are almost transparent as they bend and dip toward
the silvery waters; while, climbing over the rocky cliffs, run bracken and
the fragrant yerba-buena, till, on high, they creep as if in awe about the
great redwoods and pines of the forest.

Morning and night Ruth, in her little boat, wooed the lisping waters.
Often of a morning her mother was her companion; later on, her father or
little Ethel Tyrrell; in the evening one of the Tyrrell boys, generally
Will, was her gallant chevalier. But it was always Ruth who rowed, --Ruth