championship of Placer County, he explains, in which he inflicted severe
punishment on his adversary and resolutely refused to give in; although
his opponent on this important occasion was an imported dog, brought
into the county by Barney's enemies, who hoped to fill their pockets by
betting against the local champion. But Barney, who is a medium-sized,
ferocious-looking bull terrier, "scooped"the crowd backing the imported
dog, to the extent of their "pile," by "walking all round" his adversary;
and thereby stirring up the enmity of said crowd against himself, who - so
says Barney's master - have never yet been able to scare up a dog able to
"down" Barney. As we stand in the barn-door Barney eyes me suspiciously,
and then looks at his master; but luckily for me his master fails to
give the word. Noticing that the dog is scarred and seamed all over, I
inquire the reason, and am told that he has been fighting wild boars in
the chaparral, of which gentle pastime he is extremely fond. "Yes, and
he'll tackle a cougar too, of which there are plenty of them around here,
if that cowardly animal would only keep out of the trees," admiringly
continues mine host, as he orders Barney into his empty salt-barrel
again.

To day is Sunday, and it rains and snows with little interruption, so
that I am compelled to stay over till Monday morning. While it is raining
at Clipper Gap, it is snowing higher up in the mountains, and a railway
employee 'volunteers the cheering information that, during the winter,
the snow has drifted and accumulated in the sheds, so that a train can
barely squeeze through, leaving no room for a person to stand to one
side. I have my own ideas of whether this state of affairs is probable
or not, however, and determine to pay no heed to any of these rumors,
but to push ahead. So I pull out on Monday morning and take to the
railway-track again, which is the only passable road since the tremendous
downpour of the last two days.