Diary of Father Pedro Font
Colonizing Expedition, 1775-1776
April 1 SP -- We set out from the Arroyo de la Harina at seven in the morning, and, at half-past four in the afternoon, halted at a small stream which had very little water, near the bay and about a league before you come to the Boca del Puerto Dulce. We had travelled some fourteen leagues: about nine to the west-northwest; then about three northwest and north by west, up and down along hills which from here begin to form the bay; and the remainder, northwest, north-northwest, and a little north, winding, all this stretch, along the hills mentioned. From the camping-place, the sound of the sea could be faintly heard, for in the bay the waves break on the shore, though with no great force.
Just before arriving at the camp, we looked out on the bay from a high hill, as from there most of it is visible, and I saw that it is surrounded on all sides by hills and mountains, except for a great opening which lies about west by north, in which direction a low tongue of land extends for a long stretch. Behind this, or farther off, we saw what looked like water extending to another range, which at last became blue in the remote distance. I wondered if in that direction the bay might not perhaps communicate with the Puerto de Bodega, for Captain Don Juan de la [Bodega y] Quadra could not tell, from the currents that he observed when he was there, whether it was sea or river. The Puerto de Bodega, as I understand, is not far distant from the bay in that direction -- but this is only conjecture.
April 2 SP -- We set out from the small stream at seven in the morning and passed through a village where we were invited to go by some ten Indians who very early in the morning came to the camp singing. The Indians of the village, whom I estimated at about four hundred souls, received us with marked demonstrations of pleasure, singing and dancing.
We travelled about one long league to the north and northeast, and, at nine o'clock, arrived at the waters edge very near the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, on the inside -- marked on the map with the letter I. Hitherto this port has been held to be a large river, but [that] it is not [is evident] from the tests that we made and for the reasons which I shall give. The commander decided to remain here until afternoon, in order to observe the latitude.
As soon as we had reached the water's edge we began to doubt whether it was a river, for we did not notice any current, and the water had no more movement than what we observed at the mouth of the port of San Francisco, where we noted a very quiet and unapparent motion, due, no doubt, to the tide. Furthermore, we noticed on the shore no indication whatever of floods, not even driftwood or logs which it would naturally bring down in its floods if it was a river, especially a river so great. And if it be said that it does not bring down driftwood because its source is not very distant, and that it runs through open country where it cannot carry away logs or other things, at least it must be conceded that it must have floods, and, if it had them, it would leave signs of them along its banks; on these, however, there are no indications whatever to be seen, and its shores, where it has them, are like those we saw in the port. So then, this Puerto Dulce is a fresh-water gulf, enclosed in a basin of fairly high hills on both sides; it runs almost due east for a distance of about six leagues, and afterwards widens out very greatly in some immense plains of which I shall speak tomorrow and the day after. The banks are in some places very steep, and in others form a short beach, on which, in the vicinity of the mouth, there were great mounds of fresh-water mussels. I tasted the water and found it salty, although not so much so as that of the open sea.
We saw there some very well made rafts of tule, and out in the water there were some Indians on one fishing, for in all this gulf of the Puerto Dulce the Indians get a great catch of excellent fish -- among others, excellent salmon in abundance. I saw that they were fishing with nets, and that they held the raft in place by means of very long, thin poles. Their method of doing this confirmed me in the belief or opinion which I had already formed, that the water had no current toward the bay, for I noticed that they put the poles on the upstream side, facing the side opposite the mouth -- seemingly contrariwise to what would have been done if the water were running downstream. Seeing that the raft was held in place by these poles, it is natural to suppose that they reached bottom, so I measured one of them, and found that it was eleven and a half yards long. Now allowing for a considerable piece that remains out of the water above the raft, and which the Indian fishermen hold on to, I estimated, on this supposition, that the water must be about nine or ten yards deep, and it is very quiet and calm.
From a small eminence close to the water, and about a quarter of a league above the mouth, I observed the width of the entrance, and from the observation I calculated it to be a little less than a quarter of a league. In the bay, and in front of the mouth [of the Puerto Dulce], there is an island which lies east and west, and must be rather more than a league long, by about a quarter of a league wide; it is near the mouth, not quite in the middle of it, but tending a little to the north. The basin runs to the east -- not straight, but with bends and turns; its width is practically the same as that of the entrance for about three leagues up, afterwards it begins to widen out. At this place I observed the latitude and found it to be 38° 5 1/2; so I say: At the Boca del Puerto Dulce, April 2, 1776, meridian altitude of the lower limb of the sun, 57°.
After midday we set out from the Boca del Puerto Dulce, and, at five in the afternoon, halted on the bank of the stream which on the expedition of Captain Don Pedro Fages was named the Arroyo de Santa Angela de Fulgino. We had travelled in all about seven long leagues. The directions of the six leagues [covered during] the afternoon were: two to the east, along the crest of the hills which are close to the water; and one to the east-southeast, going upstream through a canyon by which we came out again on the crest of the hills near the water.
From the height, we saw that on this bank the water here makes a turn, and is about as wide again as at the mouth, and that on the other bank, directly opposite, a point of land projects a little, with a rock or farallon near it in the water. Looking to the northeast we saw an immense treeless plain into which the water spreads widely, forming several low islets; at the opposite end of this extensive plain, about forty leagues off, we saw a great snow-covered mountain range, which seemed to me to run from south-southeast to north-northwest.
We descended from the crest of the hills, and, having gone about half a league to the northeast, we travelled some three leagues east-southeast, as far as the halting-place at the Arroyo [de Santa Angela de Fulgino]. Many Indians came to the camp and, although they seemed docile, were impertinent and proved themselves thievishly disposed, especially as regards clothing, for which they showed a weakness, manifesting a desire to acquire and possess it.
The Arroyo de Santa Angela de Fulgino is in a plain of considerable extent, well wooded with oaks and other trees. It would not be a bad place for a settlement if the stream were permanent, which it does not appear to be, for we found that it had no current, in fact only a few little pools containing a small quantity of water and not very good at that. This camping-place is something over a league from the shore of the Puerto Dulce.
April 3 SP -- We set out from the Arroyo de Santa Angela de Fulgino at a quarter past seven in the morning, and, at a quarter of five in the afternoon, halted on the shore of the freshwater [inlet] at a deserted village, having marched some ten long leagues in the direction I shall describe. We crossed the plain in which we had halted, and travelled through it about three leagues to the east-northeast; then we entered a canyon, and, having travelled along it for about a league to the northeast, came to the top of the hill marked on the map with the letter a.. This was the farthest point reached by the exploring expedition made by Captain Don Pedro Fages, when, accompanied by Father Juan Crespi, he went to reconnoitre the port of San Francisco. At this point Captain [Fages] saw the body of water which I call Puerto Dulce on account of its stillness, and because for quite a distance back the water is fresh and good. From this hill, which is about a league from the shore, Captain Fages and Father Crespi saw the extent of the water and that it was divided into two arms which form some low-lying islets. As, farther back on the road, they had tasted the water and found it to be fresh, undoubtedly they formed the opinion that it was a very large river, and that at this point it was divided into three arms which separated farther up, forming two islands, and united again, a little below this place, on entering the strait; but they did not observe whether it had any current -- which indeed was not easy to do from the hill, as it was at a distance from the water. I saw that the water was divided, not into three arms, but into many, and that it formed numerous islets; of these I counted as many as seven, some quite large and others small -- all low-lying, long and narrow. That I saw so many islets, while Captain Fages and Father Crespi saw only two, was due, no doubt, to the fact that they saw this expanse of water at high, and I at low tide -- there being a considerable ebb and flow in the Puerto Dulce, as I shall describe tomorrow. They saw the level country through which this body of water ramifies, and which constitutes the plain I spoke of yesterday, and they must have seen the great Sierra Nevada on the other side of the plain. Lastly, they saw that farther up the water turns toward the northeast and even east, as far as a low range covered with forest which hides the water and prevents it from being seen farther on. This [low] range we ourselves saw, and to it the commander decided to go in order to get a close view of the water and the turn, and to make sure whether or not it was a river; for, although we were almost convinced that it was not, there still remained a doubt, as we were at a distance and unable to distinguish its motion, if indeed it had any. We therefore descended the hill and directed our course toward the [low] range, on and beyond which we saw a considerable forest which continued toward the southeast.
On descending to the plain we saw, near the water and about a short league away, a big herd of large deer, being, I think, what they call buros in New Mexico. They are about seven spans high, and have antlers about two yards long with several branches. Although an effort was made to get one, it was impossible, because they were very swift, and the more so at this time as they had shed their great antlers, which undoubtedly they do at seasons judging from the many horns that we saw lying about. All this region abounds in these deer; and the tracks, resembling those of cattle, that we found this day and the next, make it appear as if there was an immense herd of cattle thereabouts.
We went on through the plain, making directly for the wooded range -- marked on the map with the letter b -- and, after having travelled about four leagues east by north, we came to a good-sized Indian village, the inhabitants of which (who are like the others in color and everything else) received us peaceably and even with trepidation. The village is situated in the plain a little before you come to the range we were heading for, and so close to the water that the huts were not more than twelve paces from it. Here we were finally convinced that this which was called a river, is not a river at all, but a great body of fresh water, without a current, which spreads over that level country; the animals came up to it of their own accord to drink, and we tasted the water ourselves and found it very fresh and good. [The place is] marked on the map with the letter c.
We proceeded with the intention of going to the summit of the low wooded range, that from there we might the better view the country and the course of the water. However, we had scarcely left the village when a swamp and tule-patch obstructed our path and forced us to change our route; so, swinging to the east-southeast, we travelled along the ridge of a low hill, and then came to a plain of considerable extent in which there were many oak-trees; and having travelled about one long league, we came to a bare hill that was not very high.
We climbed to the top of this hill, which dominates the entire plain, in order to observe the lay of the land, and from it saw a confusion of water, tule-patches, the mountains, nearby woods, and a vast extent of plain. Looking eastward, we saw on the other side of the plain and about thirty leagues distant a great snow-covered range, white from crest to foot. It lies about southeast and northwest, and from the direction I made out for it, I judged that it possibly might have some connection to the southward with the Sierra Nevada, which branches off from the Sierra Madre de California above the Puerto de San Carlos and runs northwestward as far as the mission of San Gabriel and beyond. However, we could not discern either end of the range. Turning westward, we saw the hills -- through which the accumulated water empties or disembogues -- which we had passed on the way, and [observed] that, on the other side of the water, they spread out into low hilly country, the end of which was visible at a distance of about fifteen leagues, lying toward the northwest; and further, that from there on there was nothing discernible but plains. Looking southward, we saw a high range, bare on the exposed face, which ran from southeast to northwest. This is the range which in coming we had on our right throughout the entire journey from the vicinity of the mission of San Luis until we reached the Boca del Puerto Dulce, where it terminates. In the slopes of this range lie the valleys of Santa Delfina, -- through which flows the Río de Monterey -- San Bernardino, and others, as well as the Llano de los Robles, which stretches toward the mouth of the port of San Francisco. (A soldier stated that he recognized a peak which was visible at the southeastern extremity of what could be seen of this range, and that it was not very far from a place called Buenavista, to which the soldiers had reconnoitred when they had gone to the tule-swamps near the mission of San Luis in search of some deserters. He said that if we should go in that direction we would come out in the neighborhood of the mission of San Luis or of San Antonio.) Turning now to the northward, we saw, between the low hills to the northwest and the Sierra Nevada, an immense plain which, on the farther side, seemed to follow the same direction as the latter, but on the other side, opened out, toward the west, to such an extent that it included almost half the horizon. This is the plain through which the great body of fresh water extends -- not indeed continuously, but in streaks, leaving great areas uncovered or with but little water. In these areas it is, that are formed those extensive green tule-beds which begin near the mission of San Luis and, according to the bearings and this recleaning, must be in length over a hundred leagues to this point, -- without considering their upper extension, the end of which we could not see -- and in breadth some twenty-five or thirty leagues. I surmised that these tule-swamps extend to the vicinity of the Puerto de Bodega, and that the green fields which Captain Don Juan de la [Bodega y] Quadra saw from his port must have been tule-swamps such as we saw here, or that these very swamps continue as far as that.
In view of all this, the commander decided to go and camp beside the water with the intention of proceeding for a number of marches farther, crossing the plain and approaching the Sierra Nevada in order to push forward the present exploration as far as possible in that direction. Therefore, descending the hill, we travelled about a league across the plain toward the northwest; but before we reached the water we came upon a tule-swamp and marsh which stopped our progress. Consequently, we changed our route and, travelling about a quarter of a league westward, reached the waters edge at a place where there was an abandoned Indian village.
As soon as we halted, we went to look at the water and taste it, and we found it very limpid, cool, fresh, and good, and the animals went readily to it to drink. We saw that it had an easy motion caused by the wind, and that it lapped upon the shore or beach with gentle waves, but we did not discover any current whatever in it. In order to prove whether or not it had a current, the commander took a good-sized stick having a knob on the end, and threw it with all his strength into the water; but in a little while we saw that, instead of floating downstream, it was washed upon the shore by the wavelets -- I note also from what we saw afterwards that the tide was going down at the time. On the beach there was no driftwood left by the floods, nor any debris other than some dry reeds. About an hour afterwards, we returned to look at the water, and we observed that a good piece of the beach had been uncovered, and that the water had gone down about two feet, judging from the exposed trunks of some trees on the shore, which we had previously noticed were submerged. We inferred from this that the water ebbs and flows like the sea, and that the tide was then going out. On this account, the lieutenant was directed to remain with a servant, in order that, during the night, he might observe carefully when the tide was lowest, and might measure all the beach or shore that should be laid bare, and that he might afterwards observe how high the tide rose when it was full; this was done tonight and on the following morning, as I shall mention.
As a conclusion to this days [entry] I desire to make a comment here upon the information which Father Silvestre Velez de Escalante sent to Mexico, and which he obtained on his journey last year from New Mexico to the province of Moqui. The father says that he reached Oraybe, the last town of the Moqui, some fifty leagues west of the town of Zuñi, which is in New Mexico, and that there a Cosnina Indian informed him that the land inhabited by the Cosninas was six days of difficult travel west of Oraybe; and that nine days journey from Oraybe there was a very high mountain range which extends, for over a hundred leagues, from northeast to southwest with some inclination to the west. [He said that] on its northern slope the Río Grande de los Misterios flows to the westward; and that, as this river is impassable to the Cosninas and their neighbors, the Cosninas do not know what people there are on the other side of it, nor even if there are any such, for they never cross over, nor have they seen indications of any. He also says that nine days west of the Cosninas, on this side near the range, there is a nation that speaks the same language and is called Tomascavas; and that fourteen days from these people there are others called Chirumas, who are warriors, thieves, and savages, for they eat those whom they kill in their wars; and that the Cosninas have learned from these Chirumas that there were Spaniards in that direction, though distant, etc. He concludes by saying that this information which the Cosnina Indian gave him was in accordance with what the Moquis had already said.')
First, then, we are to suppose that Father Silvestre would obtain his information from the Cosnina by means of signs, in the manner that the Indians are accustomed to express themselves, or by means of an interpreter -- perhaps a poor one, as they usually are -- unless the father should happen to know the language of those parts. If he availed himself of an interpreter or had recourse to signs in order to understand the Cosnina, then he may easily have been mistaken in his information, for very often it happens that when one thinks he has expressed himself clearly to the Indians by this means, he discovers afterwards that they did not understand him, or that they understood the opposite of what he meant. Disregarding, on this supposition, the distances and directions that the father sets down relative to the nations which he mentions, -- and I find no little difficulty in reconciling them in respect to the high range which he says extends from southwest to northeast -- that in which I find the greatest difficulty is the river which he calls the Río de los Misterios, not so much on account of the name, which is quite new to me, as of the great size he represents it to be, so that it is impassable to the Cosninas. The father says that this Río de los Misterios flows westward, and it is natural to suppose that being so large it empties into the sea. If this were the case, it is also natural to suppose that we ourselves would have crossed it, since we went as far as 38° -- far enough for it to have reached the seacoast, which we followed, for it seems to me that this latitude, or even less, fits the course of the river the father speaks of, estimating from the latitude where he obtained his information. But we have crossed no river on all the road except the Río Colorado, which is not impassable even when much swollen -- as we found it; and it is even fordable when in its usual course. Neither can it be said that the Río de los Misterios is the Río Colorado, and that the name changes farther up, for if the latter, even upon the junction of the two, and below the Puerto de la Concepción, is not so large as to be impassable, -- since the Yumas, both men and women, swim across it -- it is natural that farther up it would be smaller; and even if it should be as large, it is not easy to persuade ones self that the Cosninas and their neighbors would be so much beneath the Yumas that they would not dare to cross the river, however great it may be, they having been reared on its banks. For we see that Indians, like the Yaquis and the Yumas, who grow up on the banks of some large river, and even those along the seacoast, are all great swimmers. Wherfore I infer that perhaps they told Father Silvestre that on the other side of the range there was a great expanse of water, and as they may have told him that the water was fresh, without making distinction as to whether or not it was running water, the father formed the opinion that it was a river, because its waters were not salty, and they did not tell him that the sea was there.
On the strength of all this, I say that perhaps the great Río de los Misterios of which the father speaks and of which they informed him, may be some very large fresh-water lake that follows the course of the tule-swamps which we saw, or that it may be those very tule-swamps and the water which, spreading over the immense plains I have mentioned, may find its way to the other side of the Sierra Nevada through one or several openings, and may extend as far from east to west as it does from north to south. If this were the case, it is easy to believe that it would be impassable to the Cosninas, for it is very difficult, I may even say impossible, to cross; consequently the Cosninas could not even know whether there are people on the other side or not, just as those on the other side might not know of the Cosninas.
From all the foregoing, I conclude by saying that it seems to me that it would be very difficult to open a road direct from New Mexico to Monterey, as has been contemplated, for aside from the information that Father Silvestre gives of the river or fresh-water lake which lies between, there are the intervening tule-swamps, which the road must strike before it reaches the sea-coast, and however straight a road is sought, it will still come out in the vicinity of the mission of San Luis, or farther down, according to my notion -- salvo meliori judicio.
I say that here we were convinced that what was called a river is not such, because if it were it would naturally have some rise, and if it did it is not possible that this village could remain so close to the water on such level ground, for however little the river might rise, it would overflow and inundate all the plain over which we came, and would consequently destroy the village and its huts. Neither can it be said that this village was newly established there, and that the inhabitants would retire to some other place when the river rose, because -- aside from the fact that the signs indicated that it is not a new village, but one of some age -- it must be conceded to be over two years old at least, for when Captain Fages came and observed this water from the hill where he stopped, he sent a sergeant with some soldiers to follow up the discovery, and these men came as far as this village, and found it in the same position that we did. So it must have been established at least two years, and in two years the river, if river it were, would have had ample time to carry the village away on its floods.
April 4 SP -- Before midnight the lieutenant went to examine the water, and found it so low that, from the measure he took of it, we estimated that it had laid bare some sixteen feet of the beach, which was very wide at this place. Before dawn the servant went down and saw that the water had risen so much that it lifted the dry reeds that were strewn upon the shore. At sunrise the commander and I went, and saw that the tide was beginning to ebb, and that with the northwest wind that was blowing very strongly today, the water was rough, the little waves inside whitening as if in the sea, and the waves on the shore were larger. I took the level of the water, and ascertained that between high and low tide it had gone down some three yards, according to the beach which it had laid bare. I note that here the water was hemmed in, and that it had the same width, more or less, as at the mouth. From all that I have said, and from these investigations, we decided finally, and ended by assuring ourselves, that this expanse of water ought rather to be called a fresh-water sea than a river, since it has no floods nor currents like a river, but has, like the sea, clear blue waters, ebb-tide and flood, and waves upon the beach. But if, nevertheless, one wishes to maintain that, since the water is fresh, it should be called a river merely because it has some movement, then we might with equal reason call the sea a river because it has ebb- and flood-tides.
Although we were now certain, from what I have already said, that there was no large river here as has been asserted -- nor even a small one, for we found nothing but streams in all our journey -- nevertheless the commander remained firm in the resolution which he took yesterday to follow the turn of the water, cross the plain, and prosecute this exploration for some marches in the direction of the Sierra Nevada. We therefore set out from the uninhabited village at a quarter past seven in the morning, and at half-past five in the afternoon, halted on some hills at the beginning of the range of which I shall speak later, having travelled some fifteen long leagues in a direction so varied that it was entirely opposite to our original intention, as I shall proceed to narrate. We went a short distance to the east with the intention of following the water either along the shore or at least keeping it in sight, but we soon came upon the tule-swamps and marshes which obliged us to change our direction, and separated us from the water so much that we did not see it again, except at a distance, from the crest of the range. We turned east by south, and travelled so for about two leagues, leaving on the right an oak-forest which extends for some six leagues along the southern slope of the range. Then, with the intention of ascertaining whether the tule-swamps would permit us a clear passage, we struck off toward the northeast, and travelled about a league farther; but the tule-swamps soon prevented us from following this course, and we began winding, now southeast and east-southeast, then south, and finally south-southeast, without being able to advance toward the Sierra Nevada, but on the contrary getting farther away from it. We saw a number of the many well-beaten trails which the large deer make through that plain when they go down to the water; we followed these trails, but soon found ourselves beset by marshes which obliged us to retrace our steps. Once we found a path with the tracks of a man which seemed to be going toward a small village that we descried amidst the reeds, and although we made a determined effort to follow it we soon found ourselves in a swamp, through which the animals could not pass, and which could only be traversed on foot with considerable difficulty. So, for over three leagues, in a direction which may be described as southeasterly, we struggled laboriously through the midst of the tule-patches, which were dry for some distance. We trod over decayed, spongy ground, covered with dried scum, with such an acrid dust arising from the ashes of burnt reeds that our eyes smarted intolerably and we could scarcely see. On this occasion we perceived that the body of fresh water which extends through these tule-swamps has its floods, and that when it overflows it covers the ground we were walking upon, which was full of the shells of snails and turtles, and the scum which collects on the water when it extends this far. It is not hard to believe that this water might overflow; indeed it is natural to suppose that it would, as it is within sight of the Sierra Nevada; for it may be presumed that a number of rivers issue from the mountains and terminate and are lost in those plains, and that thus the fresh-water sea (for so this exception to the rule may be characterized, unless it is to be designated a lake) would increase in winter with the rains and floods of the rivers, and in summer by the melting of the snows. We now knew that it was impossible to cross the plain and approach the Sierra Nevada, but the commander desired nevertheless to continue some distance farther, in the determination to see whether a little farther down we might not find higher ground which would make our progress easier. So we travelled some three leagues farther in a southerly direction, and the remainder almost due east, and east-southeast. It was now about two o'clock in the afternoon and the corporal, who was going along in advance, stopped, and the commander asked him: "How does it look to you? Is there hope of our being able to get to the range?" The corporal replied: "I do not know, sir; what I can say is that on one occasion I set out along the point of that range, (it is the one running from southeast to northwest which we saw yesterday, looking south from the hill), and spent a day and a half going around a tule-swamp, and saw that it still went on here and [extended] in the other direction also; but I saw nothing more, for there I turned back." Upon this I said: "According to this reckoning, these tule-swamps are the same as those near the mission of San Luis, to which place they extend, and to get around them, which must be done in order to get to the Sierra Nevada, it will be necessary to go down to the vicinity of that mission, from which place the reconnoissance of the range can be more easily begun." Then the commander, seeing the great difficulty which prevented our approaching the Sierra Nevada as he proposed, decided that we should return toward Monterey; so, changing our route, we started toward the range. Having travelled about one league southward, we came to some hills which we called the Lomas de las Tuzas, because they were burrowed by ground squirrels. We continued along these hills for about two leagues southwestward, and entered some other hills which are the beginning of the range we afterward crossed, as I will narrate tomorrow; and having gone along them some two leagues to the south-southeast, we halted on a little eminence close to a canyon in which a little water was found.
April 5 SP -- At a quarter to seven in the morning we set out from the hills at the beginning of the range, and halted, at a quarter past four in the afternoon, near the end of the Cañada de San Vicente, having travelled some fourteen leagues of quite rugged road in a varied southerly direction, which I shall describe. We travelled some three leagues to the southeast, heading for a canyon that we saw, which became so narrow that we could proceed no farther along it; we were therefore obliged to ascend to the crest of the great range, travelling about one league, -- to the north, to the east, to the south, and in any and every direction -- until we arrived at the crest. Here we stopped a while to look for a way out, and from this height, which was great, (it is marked on the map with the letter d), we clearly saw the plains, the water, and the tule-swarnps which we came through yesterday, and which extended as if down toward the mission of San Luis through a great level valley, enclosed on this side by the range which we were beginning to cross, and on the other side by the Sierra Nevada, which, seen far in the distance, also extended southward as though toward the mission of San Gabriel. So I was confirmed in the opinion I had already frormed, and set down yesterday and the day before. We went down from the crest of the range and travelled about two leagues southward, with numerous deflections toward the southeast because of the brokenness of the hills and slopes, till we came to a little canyon. This we followed about two leagues to the south-southeast, when, upon arriving at the top of the pass which it formed, we saw a very great area of rugged mountain region in front of us, the road over which we had come, and all the territory visible about us, densely covered with oaks, pines, and other trees. We went on about a league southward with many downward turns; soon the land opened up more, so that we came upon a long and fairly wide canyon. Having travelled along it four leagues south and south-southwest, we halted a short distance before reaching the end of it at a very small stream of water. At the beginning of this canyon, which the soldiers called the Cañada de San Vicente, (marked on the map with the letter e), we saw some mountains or hills which attracted everyones attention on account of their formation; for, though the other hills were very well forested, these have no trees, but only a very sparse scrub-brush, so that on the ridge and at intervals there are to be seen strips and patches of very white, coarse gravel. This range -- at the foot of it flows a little stream, besides numerous other small ones which are in the canyon -- is colored red. For this reason everyone said that it had fine indications of minerals, and to me it appeared quite like the mining regions of Guanajuato. It is situated in the center of the very broken mountain region through which we were passing.
April 6 SP -- We set out from the Cañada de San Vicente at a quarter to seven in the morning, and, at four in the afternoon, halted on a small eminence near the Arroyo del Coyote, which we followed from its source the entire way, having travelled some ten leagues of worse and more rugged road than yesterday, principally to the south, though with some variation. As soon as we set out we encountered rugged mountains everywhere, and in front of us a very narrow, deep canyon. We went down through it, soon coming upon a little water which is the beginning of the Arroyo del Coyote. This we followed about three leagues south-southeast, some two south-southwest, two more to the south-southeast, winding about to ascend some hills and descend again to the canyon, and, finally, some three leagues to the south and south-southeast, ascending and descending through the canyon and its very rugged hillsides.
April 7 SP -- We set out from the small eminence at a quarter past seven in the morning, and, at a quarter past five in the afternoon, halted on the bank of the Río de Monterey, having travelled about fifteen leagues, the first two having been toward the south along some hills, by which we finally descended from the range. Then we entered the valley of San Bernardino, through which we passed to the south-southwest and south-southeast. Having travelled about three leagues through it, upon entering some low hills near the Río del Pájaro, we struck the course of our outward journey, and followed it in directions corresponding to those we had taken in going to the port of San Francisco.
April 8 SP -- We set out from the Río de Monterey at a quarter past seven in the morning, and arrived at four in the afternoon at the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo, having travelled five leagues in the same directions as upon our outward journey -- four [of them] to the presidio of Monterey, where we stopped to eat, and one to the mission,
April 9 SP -- We stayed at the mission resting.
April 10 SP -- Today there was a great school of sardines stranded on the beach.
April 11 SP -- We continued at the mission without any occurrence of note.
April 12 SP -- It was decided to set out for Monterey in the morning, and from there to return in the direction of Sonora. Commander Anza sent mail to Captain Rivera, notifying him of his decision to return.
April 13 SP -- We set out from the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo at nine in the morning, and, at ten, arrived at the presidio of Monterey, having travelled one league. Here we stayed in order to arrange the affairs of the expedition, the lieutenant taking charge of everything on account of the absence of Captain Rivera, who was in San Diego. I requested that I might at least be permitted to know the number of people who had come on the expedition and had remained in Monterey for the new settlement and fort of the port of San Francisco; for, although I was merely curious, and it was not really necessary for me to know, still I wanted to know just the same, because I had come with them all. So I was permitted to see the list, which was not complete, because there were a few missing, including the prisoners who had been left at the mission of San Gabriel; from this list I learned that one hundred and ninety-three souls, had remained at Monterey.
April 14 SP -- The reverend father-president of the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo came, with other priests, to take leave of us, and returned. The minister of the mission of San Antonio remained at Monterey in order to go to that mission in our company. We set out from the presidio of Monterey at two in the afternoon, and, at six, halted on the banks of the Río de Monterey, at the place called Buenavista, having travelled about six leagues. The directions of the return correspond to those of the outward journey, since we went back by the same road.
April 15 SP -- We set out from Buenavista at a quarter past six in the morning, and, at a quarter to six in the afternoon, halted at a place called La Cañada de San Bernabé, having travelled about eighteen short leagues. When we were about two leagues from our starting-point, we met the soldiers whom the commander had sent with letters for Captain Rivera on the 12th. They were coming back, and said that they had met Captain Rivera on the road, and that he was now approaching. We felt sure that his coming was for the purpose of seeing Captain Anza before the latter should go away, in order to consider with him matters concerning the expedition; so at this moment we presumed that it might perhaps be necessary for us to return to Monterey, or at least wait where we were. But we soon saw that his coming was no occasion of delay to us, for on going a little distance we met Captain Rivera, and, the two captains having given each other a passing salute without stopping to say a word, Captain Rivera at once resumed his journey to Monterey, and we ours to Sonora.
April 16 SP -- We set out from the Cañada de San Bernabé at a quarter before seven in the morning, and, at a quarter past ten, arrived at the mission of San Antonio, having travelled about five leagues.
April 17 SP -- We set out from the mission of San Antonio at two o'clock in the afternoon, and, at a quarter past six, halted in the same glade of oak-trees [as on the outward journey], on the banks of the river, after crossing it once, and having travelled some seven leagues.
April 18 SP -- We set out from the banks of the river at six in the morning, and, at a quarter past five in the afternoon, halted at a small watering-place about three leagues beyond the place where we crossed the Río de Monterey, having travelled about sixteen leagues.
April 19 SP -- We set out from the small watering-place at a quarter-past six in the morning, and, at half-past ten, arrived at the mission of San Luis Obispo, having travelled about seven leagues.
April 20 SP -- We remained at this mission.
April 21 SP -- In the afternoon some soldiers arrived, saying that Captain Rivera was coming from Monterey, and that he had stopped in the little pass something over a league from the mission.
April 22 SP -- Shortly after midday Captain Rivera arrived at the mission, but he only stayed a very little while, and went away to San Gabriel the same hour without seeing Captain Anza.
April 23 SP -- We set out from the mission of San Luis Obispo at seven in the morning, and, at half-past six in the afternoon, halted at La Laguna Graciosa, having travelled about seventeen leagues.
April 24 SP -- We set out from La Laguna Graciosa at half-past six in the morning, and, at a quarter of five in the afternoon, halted at a small stream on the shore of the Canal [de Santa Bárbara] near the Ranchería del Cojo, having travelled some sixteen leagues.
April 25 SP -- We set out from the vicinity of the Ranchería del Cojo at six in the morning, and, at half-past five in the afternoon, halted quite near the Ranchería de Mescaltitan just before reaclung it, having marched about eighteen leagues.
April 26 SP -- We set out from near the Ranchería de Mescaltitan at a quarter-past six in the morning, and, at five o'clock in the afternoon, halted at the Río de la Asumpta, having travelled some seventeen leagues. Today, after halting, we could discern the islands in the channel -- until now, neither in coming nor returning had we been able to see them clearly for they were indistinct on account of the fogs which are almost continuous on this sea.
April 27 SP -- We set out from the Río de la Asumpta at a quarter-past six in the morning, and, at half-past five in the afternoon, halted at La Laguna Escondida, having travelled some eighteen leagues. Today we left the channel at the beginning of the march.
April 28 SP -- We set out from La Agua Escondida at six in the morning, and halted at the Río de Porciúncula at five in the afternoon, having travelled about fourteen leagues.
April 29 SP -- We set out from the Río de Porciúncula at a quarter-past six in the morning, and, at eight, arrived at the mission of San Gabriel, having travelled two leagues. Commander Rivera was at this mission, but he did not come out to greet us when we arrived, nor did he have any interview with Commander Anza during the time we stayed here.
April 30 SP -- We remained at this mission, and the two commanders communicated with each other in writing concerning their affairs.