is only boys' play.

All energy, every spark of daring seems to have left the men who,
secure in ease and fortune, live rich and unharassed in California.
Their Southern brethren in the ranks reel blindly in the bloody
mazes of battle, fighting in the field. A poor Confederate lieutenant
attempts a partisan expedition in the mountains of California. He
is promptly captured. The boyish plan is easily frustrated. Bands
of resolute marauders gather at Panama to attack the Californian
steamers, gold-laden. The vigilance of government agents baffles
them. The mail steamers are protected by rifle guns and bodies
of soldiers. Loyal officers protect passengers from any dash of
desperate men smuggled on board. Secret-service spies are scattered
over all the Western shores. Mails, telegraphs, express, and the
growing railway facilities, are in the hands of the government. It
is Southern defeat everywhere.

Valois sadly realizes the only help from the once enthusiastic
West is a few smuggled remittances. Here and there, some quixotic
volunteer makes his way in. An inspiring yell for Jeff Davis, from
a tipsy ranchero, or incautious pothouse orator, is all that the
Pacific Coast can offer.

The Confederate flag never sweeps westward to the blue Pacific,
and the stars and bars sink lower day by day. As the weakness of
American commerce is manifest on the sea, Colonel Valois forwards
despairing letters to California. He urges attacks from Mexico,
Japan, Panama, or the Sandwich Islands, on the defenceless ships
loaded with American gold and goods. Unheeded, alas! these last
appeals. Unfortunately, munitions of war are not to be obtained in