easily, devoting more of his time to a continuance of his studies, or scientific experiments, than to hard work on the ranch. Whether this was financially wise or not I never cared to consider, being too much of a like temperament not to fall in readily with his mode of life.

"Amongst the many subjects that we talked over and studied together while reclining under the palm trees on the calm summer evenings, or by our little log-fire when it was wet or chilly, was this same question of memory. Señor Silva was of the opinion that the sense of a preknowledge of scenes, and objects, and even names and faces, which many people experience, is the result of an inherent memory germ transmitted by parents or fore parents, which has remained dormant until a revisitation to the scene or a recurrence of the event developed it into an actual recognition. He accounted for the beliefs of reincarnation, transmigration of souls, and many other occult doctrines, as growing out of the simple manifestation of this truth. He even cited instances where he had recognized houses, old bridges, and country landscapes, in parts of the world where he had never set foot before; and that after subsequently making thorough investigation, he had learned in many instances that they had been visited by one or the other of his parents or grand parents.

"I must confess his theory took hold of me, and now that my attention was directed to the matter, I could recall several similar incidents in my own life.

"It was some months after our first discussion on this subject that Señor Carlos Silva and I were sitting out on the veranda of his house, talking over some recent ill luck to our stock, when, as I was gazing earnestly into his face, and noticing its dejected mien, a picture arose in my mind. I scarcely noticed the matter at first, but as it unaccountably grew in vividness and detail, I set myself to thinking what it could mean.

"There were distinctly shaped a stretch of mountain peaks, slightly varied in form and height, but all white and glittering; and from the point I seemed to see them they looked like huge waves of the ocean, crested with foam. Below I was aware of an extensive valley, which lay between two ranges of mountains. I saw the little river or creek dashing through it, the trees along its banks, the shape of the mountain slopes, and even the peculiar contraction of the valley where it narrowed into a wild, rugged cañon in the distance. A dim consciousness of the presence of two men seemed to connect itself with the picture.

"I said nothing about this strange vision to Señor Carlos Silva for several days, wishing first to try and connect it with some scene with which I was fa miliar. But every effort failing, I at last confided the matter to him.

"Strange,' he muttered, when I had finished my singular story. And have you no conception of the locality of this scene? There must be some present cause for the revivification of this memory. Come, think again.'

"I have thought it over, padre,' I replied (I had always been accustomed to call him father). There has been nothing else in my thoughts for the last week, and still I cannot connect it with any incident of my life or what has been told

me.

The strangest part of it is that I first got the idea while looking in your face, and the details only develop while I am in your company. And I know,' I added, we have never traveled such a country together.'

"Stranger still,' my friend remarked, and I noticed he became a trifle paler, but I never gave it a second thought at the time. I suppose,' he continued with a smile, my presence figures in your conception because you have become so accustomed to connecting me with your every thought; and he pat-. ted me on the back affectionately. I thought so too; we let the matter drop,

and said nothing more about it for two or three days, being busy with other things on our respective ranchos.

"It happened that on the following Sunday morning, before I was yet out of bed, Señor Silva came over to my home, looking rather tired and a trifle excited. 'Pedose,' said he, immediately on entering my room, without even waiting to salute me with the usual Buenos dias, 'I have been thinking over that vision for the past two nights, and after much consideration and putting this and that together, I think I have hit upon a very probable interpretation.

"Let me here it, padre,' I cried, all excitement.

"In the first place, Pedose, you must know that I was a great deal with your father before he died. I was young then, and took a delight in hearing him recount the many adventures of himself and his own father, your grand-sire. Now, among other things I distinctly remember being charmed by the relation of the wild life your grandfather once led in Alta California. For many years he was an explorer in that then almost unknown country. I remember the stories of hardship, fatigue from climbing rugged and almost inaccessible portions of the mountainous regions, death from hunger, and dreadful encounters with the savage Indians. All these things stamped themselves indelibly on my mind, as they will on any spirited boy's. But what I particularly want to tell you is, that it was never a too-oft-told story with your father, to relate how his father had unearthed fabulous wealth in that distant country - how he had discovered a rich gold deposit in an isolated spot in the heart of the Sierras "Sierras - Oro Oro-," I almost yelled, breaking in upon his story. "Why, padre, I recognize those words in connection with my vision. Go on, go on."

"As I expected, Pedose,- I was sure you would. But be calm, until I have

finished; though I confess I was equally excited when I connected the incidents

as I was saying, it was always a matter of regret with your father that he had not been able to learn the secret of its locality, as the old man had failed to confide it to the family before he died. "It happened that at the time of the discovery there was another person in company with your grandfather. This person turned on his comrade, and attempted the robbery of the little gold that had been secured, and also tried to murder your grandfather, in order, probably, to remain sole possessor of the secret, it being necessary temporarily to abandon the mine, for the purpose of obtaining supplies and necessary tools. As it chanced, however, your grandfather got the best of the affray, and returning to the coast with what loose. gold he could procure, decided to pay a short visit to his family in the native land, before engaging permanently in the development of the mine. In those days it was a long and tedious journey to California, and on the return voyage your grandfather was taken sick, and died three days after landing at Monterey. He went out of the world in an unconscious condition, and his secret went with him. It was but a few months after his death that your father was born, and of course he must have learned the story from his mother subsequently, or perhaps through his elder brother, who carried on the rancho in your grandfather's absence. Now my theory is that this memory cell was transmitted to your father, and that it passed through his existence in a dormant state, probably for the want of attending circumstances to excite it into development, or from lack of natural harmony with other mental attributes. Moreover, if my theory is correct, this memory germ, or atom, has been transmitted to you, or its reflex imprinted on your mind. Just what has awakened the memory in you at the present time is apparently not discoverable, but I am convinced that if we could

but find the actual place of which you possess the mental picture, and set foot in this valley, the rest would all crowd in on your mind very plainly, and you would be led to gold.

"O, padre, what a philosopher you are!' I exclaimed rapturously. What if we should start right away for California, and turn our energies to the finding of this scene?'

"Just what I was waiting for you to suggest, Pedose. Nothing would suit me better, for I am deeply convinced we shall be successful. If my theory turns out correct, I am made famous as a scientist the world over. I am an old man, and care nothing for the gold; you can put it to better use with nearly a quarter of a century the best of me; but if you care to have me with you, and it turns out as we anticipate, you can defray my expenses on the journey. For the rest I want fame, Pedose, fame.

"You shall have all you ask, and more, padre,' I answered gratefully. 'But what plan shall we adopt?'

"That will require some little consid eration. In the first place we need immediate funds. Once in California, I am of the opinion that a little judicious inquiry around the various mining camps will result in disclosing some such valley as you describe. The country is now well settled and fully known, even to its remotest corners. That knowledge once obtained, we can easily secure conveniences for reaching it, and I think that we can safely leave Nature to do the rest in unfolding the secrets hidden in that germ of memory.'

"You are right, padre. But there is one great risk of disappointment that no reasoning can remove.'

"You mean that the gold may have been discovered already?' he suggested. "Yes,' I said.

"We must take that risk, Pedose,' he replied. 'The scientific triumph will be worth the cost of the journey. And besides, I have another matter to attend to while in the United States. My grand

father died somewhere up in that country, and there is some unclaimed property still. There must be records that I can trace.' And he looked at me with a strange expression that I could not then understand.

"It was several weeks before we had made arrangements for the proper care of our property during our absence, and secured even half of the ready money we had agreed on as necessary for the journey. We had counted on the investigation's occupying about three months after our arrival in California; but at the same time we each entertained secret hopes that not half that time would pass before our doubts would be happily settled. So when the full amount of ready cash was not available, we decided to start out and take chances.

"Arriving at San Francisco early one August morning, we procured a chart of the country, and obtained as much information regarding the topography of the Sierra Nevada mountains as was readily accessible. We then took the river steamer to Sacramento, the nearest large city to our field of exploration. From there we outfitted for the final search, securing a pair of burros, and two months' food supply, such as it was, along with the necessary cooking utensils, and a camping outfit consisting of three heavy woolen blankets, and a large sheet of canvas that could be readily rigged into a shelter from rain.

"The story of our wanderings from place to place, the hopes and subsequent disappointments, as we struck every new camp, and came away without the knowledge sought; and the final despair that overcame us, as, having exhausted our supply of provisions twice over, and lost one of our pack animals over the slippery edge of a precipice, we were forcibly reminded of the chilly evening winds and frequent falls of rain and snow that winter had overtaken us,-would fill volumes. In brief, then, Señor Carlos Silva sprained his ankle one morning while struggling over an unusually rugged

piece of ground, and this laid us up at the next camp for nearly three weeks. We were entirely out of funds, and although the miners treated us hospitably, we could not expect them to do everything, so the remaining burro was sold, and the money put to paying debts and purchasing sufficient supplies to carry us back to civilization on foot. We had fully determined to abandon the project as hopeless, and get back to our native country as soon as possible, when an unexpected event brought us fresh hope.

"One evening there chanced to arrive in camp a party of old prospectors, who were of our own nationality, and who better understood our inquiries regarding the mystic valley. We veiled our object as much as possible, not wishing to excite undue curiosity. For the first time during that long, weary journey of nearly five months, we received some crumbs of hope from the assurance that a valley answering the description we gave really did exist.

It lies about four days southeast on the desert trail, if that is the place, and I think it is from your description," remarked our informant in conclusion. "There's not much gold in that region now-a-days. I believe there is a company that owns about all that is taken out," he added warningly.

Words could not convey our thanks. Even the faint possibility of the truth of the news that such a valley existed was bliss to our imaginations. We started out on that terrible march afoot, with our provisions, and other few necessaries strung to our backs. It was agony after the second day, but we were irrepresible in the fond hope of success, and pushed steadily on. It was almost dark when we reached the dividing ridge that overlooked the valley, and in the semi-gloom I recognized nothing. Suddenly, as I was watching the snow fall on a distant peak, to which Señor Silva had directed my attention, a recognition of a sun-crimsoned pile of rocks some miles along the mountain side

darted vividly into my mind, and that told me we had discovered the reality of my vision. Our joy can be imagined when, next morning, after leaving the camp at the mountain base where we had spent the night, I began to know every feature in the landscape.

"But the strangest part of my story is in connection with Señor Silva. As we gained the rocky prominence to which these new recollections in my mind had guided me, all became a blank, and I was at a loss to know which way to proceed. Señor Silva was positive that an opening we had discovered in the cliff was a natural inlet to the mine, and as I was pondering in my mind how he could know better than I, a new light burst upon me. In the man before me I thought I recognized my would-be murderer. It seemed to me as though I was living in the dim past, and this man had attempted my life. I knew him, I knew every incident of the tragic affair, and I felt a desire to thrust my knife into him and be revenged. It was evident I was laboring under some mad hallucination, for I really intended to carry the bloody desire into effect. The next thing I knew I was lying bruised and bleeding on a narrow shelf of rocks midway down the cliff.

"With difficulty I clambered down and reached the bottom, and feeling a hot, dry fever burning my flesh, I rushed to Cañon Creek and drank greedily. Looking up I recognized in the moonlight the wild, terrified face of Señor Silva, gazing down at me. I called to him, but he ran away, and the idea crept into my mind that he had thrown me from the heights. Wounded as I was, I made my way back to R, and after attending to my injuries at the house of a friendly miner, I returned to the cave, to try and find out what had become of my late partner.

"The cave was, as Señor Silva had observed, a natural inlet to a rich deposit of gold ore. As the bundles and pick were still untouched, and as we first