Expanded Diary of Father Pedro Font
Colonizing Expedition, 1775-1776
Thursday, February 1 SP -- At noon the courier and six soldiers were dispatched by way of California to Mexico with a report to the viceroy of what had happened, and of the condition of this presidio, enclosing the report of the inquiry and the depositions.
Friday, February 2 SP -- The day dawned fair and I awoke very much improved. I said Mass, and the candles were blessed with the little wax which they had there. I may note that the church was a very bad and old hut of tule which formerly had served as a storehouse. I again observed the latitude of this presidio to see if it agreed with the former one which I made, on January 12, and I found it in the same latitude of 32' 44 1/2' with correction, and without correction in 32' 37 1/2', and so I say: at the presidio of the port San Diego, February 2, 1776, meridian altitude of the lower limb of the sun, 40' 14'.
According to the report given by the sergeant, it appears that this presidio is almost on the same parallel as the mouth of the Colorado River; for he says that on the occasions when he has made journeys to the Sierra de California toward the east, seeking heathen and for other purposes, he has noted that the river fell straight in his path, although he did not see it; and it appeared to him that the Colorado River might be distant from the presidio some fifty leagues by a not very bad road. Father Fernando Consag in the journey which he made to the mouth of the Colorado River by way of the Sea of California from the cape and port of San Carlos, situated in latitude 28°, says that the mouth at the extreme head of the sea is in latitude 33°, as is stated in the Afanes Apostólicos, book 3, chap. 8, page 388.
Saturday, February 3 SP -- In the morning three soldiers came as messengers from San Gabriel with letters for Commander Ansa from Lieutenant Moraga. reporting that the fathers of that mission had reduced the rations of the people of the expedition and were now only giving them half rations, as a result of which the soldiers were dissatisfied. They reported also that the mission of San Gabrie1 did not have provisions for our people, the message being sent in order that Ansa might deliberate concerning the matter. He also reported that an Indian of the mission and three heathen were imprisoned there for having stolen and killed two cows and two hogs of the same mission. Thereupon, arrangements were made with regard to taking supplies from the storehouse to be carried thither by the pack train which came with us empty, and we also began to prepare for our march for Monterey. Since the 1st, when the courier was dispatched, it had been decided that Commander Rivera was to remain at San Diego, whence he would not depart until he had the country secured and pacified, and that in consequence Señor Ansa on his return should deliver the expedition to him in San Gabriel, where they agreed to meet then if it were not possible to do so sooner.
Sunday, February 4 SP -- I said Mass, after which the large pack train of the expedition set out for San Gabriel loaded with provisions, consisting of wormy maize, for the people who remained at that mission. It was decided that we should start tomorrow morning for Monterey, although nothing was said to me about it nor was I informed of this decision to march, for I was never able to succeed in learning about such things as this beforehand. But from his reply to the question which I asked on the 28th of January, the march ought to have begun today.
Monday, February 5 SP -- Yesterday at noon it began to rain and continued most of the night, and it was still raining this morning. For this reason our march, which had been decided upon, was suspended.
Tuesday, February 6 SP -- I awoke again suffering from my mouth, but I was somewhat relieved afterward by touching the sores with a little powder of verdigris. The animals were rounded up for our journey, but we suspended the march and remained here because the day was very cloudy and unpleasant. The wind blew fiercely and threatened rain, and after noon rain began to fall. At night, after supper, I saw a light in the room in which Señor Anza and I slept, and I went to see who had lighted it, because in the presidio there was such a scarcity of candles, as of everything else, that we were careful not to light candles unless it was necessary. I found that the cook had lighted it because he was awaiting Señor Ansa, to ask him if he should prepare the olla to march next day, as had been ordered, though he did not prepare it because it was raining. I returned to the room where we all were, in which the three fathers and Señor Rivera slept, and where we ate and passed most of the day because in the presidio there was no other habitation. I asked who had lit the candle and why, and right here and in front of everybody I made my complaint to Señor Ansa, telling him that it was hard on me that he should never tell me what he had decided, when he told it to the servants, with whom he talked about these and other things, sometimes very intimately, whereas with me he always maintained great haughtiness and reserve. He replied to me:
Well, why do you wish, your Reverence, that I should tell you what I decide? I am under no obligation to do so.
Yes, I know that you are not obliged to do so, I replied, "nor I to demand it; but it appears to me natural that you should tell me, as a companion, what you decide, in order that I may not be caught unprepared, for I also have to travel. It is for this reason that I would be glad to know about it, and not to interfere in your decisions. Indeed, you know very well that up to now I have not interfered in delays or marches, because it is your business to decide them, as I said to you the day when we arrived at Santa Ana, the 6th of October, when you asked me my opinion as to whether we should remain at the pueblo or at the river, after you had given orders to halt at the river. I understand you, and I know you do not like to take counsel with anybody; and I also know that you are under no obligation to do what I may ask of you, as I experienced on the 1st of December, when I requested you to move the camp to Palma's ranchería and you did not wish to do it. And yet, although you do not communicate your plans to me in order that I may give my opinion, since it is not my business and I know that you do not have to accept it, at least it would be pleasant if, as a friend, you should tell me what you decide by way of conversation and for my guidance."
To this he replied that I was complaining without reason, for he was now telling me what he had decided. I answered:
It is true that you are telling me of it, but only at the last minute when everybody already knows it, and when I see it, as happened with the messenger whom you dispatched from the Puerto de San Carlos on the 25th of December; and with the decision to come to San Diego of which you told me on the night of January 6th, after everybody else already knew about it.
Well, Father, he said, "your Reverence must know that my having been delayed here is because I saw that your Reverence was ill, for so far as I was concerned I would have started. I replied that I was grateful for this favor, although up to the present he had not intimated any such thing to me; and that he must understand that I did not wish him to be delayed on my account, for since before leaving San Miguel I had said that I did not wish him to retard his marches on my account for a single day. And so I concluded:
If we are waiting only for that let us start now at once, or tomorrow morning, even if it rains.
I said this because at San Miguel he several times decided to begin the journey and failed to do so on various pretexts that arose, under cover of which the march was delayed, because his wife wished it and he had the opportunity to give her this pleasure. In fact, I became ill during those days, and Señor Ansa, having decided to begin the journey on September 28, asked me if I were ready to travel, saying if not he would suspend the march until I should recover. I replied that he must not wait on my account, for I trusted in God that I should get better on the way.
Now, the Señora wished a little further delay, and thought she would obtain it through my being ill. For this reason she charged Doña Cathalina Ortiz, wife of Don Manuel Monteagudo, in whose house I was lodging, to persuade me to object to traveling until I was better. To this suggestion I replied that if Señor Ansa had decided to begin the march it must not be delayed on my account. Doña Cathalina said to me: "Father, Doña Ana Regina Serrano would be very glad if they would wait at least one day more, and this could easily be brought about if you would say so, for you are ill. "To this I replied:
I also would be glad, not so much because I am ill as for another reason; but assuming that the decision has been made I do not wish to say anything. Doña Cathalina agreed with me and said: "Well, Father, tell me plainly what your opinion is." Thinking that this was a private conversation which we were having, I said to her:
Señora, my opinion is that since we are now at the presidio of San Miguel, and that we have already delayed so many days, for other reasons we might as well delay one day more. Then we would set out from the presidio and begin the march on the day of that Holy Prince, after the people have heard Mass, which perhaps we might sing; and I perhaps might be able to say a few words to the people. To me this would seem better, as I already have suggested to Señor Ansa. But if he has already decided on something different and paid no attention to my suggestion, I have nothing more to say except that I do not wish it said that we have delayed on my account.
This conversation ended, Doña Cathalina went straightway to Ansa's house to relate to him what I had said; and in a short time Señor Ansa came to see me, saying:
So your Reverence has decided that we should start on the feast of San Miguel?
Señor, I replied, "why should I decide that?" Doña Cathalina, in a casual conversation, asked my opinion, and I told her what I thought, but without opposing myself to your decision."
Well, Father, he said, "we will do as your Reverence says."
You will do what you wish, I replied, "and let us understand that this is not my decision; nor do I wish that you should delay the march a single day on my account."
No, Father, he said, "but I also think that what your Reverence says is best."
Señor Ansa then left, and in a short time Doña Cathalina returned and said to me:
Doña Ana and I thank you, because they are waiting one day more.
Well, what have I got to do with that I replied.
Much, she answered, "because Don Juan did not wish to wait, but now he is waiting because your Reverence desires it so."
Señora, I said, "I wish neither this nor that, but only what Don Juan may wish."
Well, Father, she replied," as soon as Don Juan arrived at his house he said, Oh, dear, now I am going to wait one day more, because I must please the father; and he has decided it thus, because he wishes to have his say before setting out," alluding to the sung Mass and the exhortation which I had suggested and he had opposed.
I have related all this at length in order to show how these lords are accustomed to resort to pretexts with the friars, making friends of them when it suits their convenience, but paying no attention to them at other times, when they do not need them.
In virtue of my reply, all now began to urge me not to go to Monterey, but to remain where I was, for the season was bad and I would expose myself to danger of death from illness But the urging came from distinct purposes. The fathers were moved by pity because they were sorry at seeing me ill; Señor Ansa advised it because he foresaw little pleasure in taking me in his company; and Señor Rivera because he did not want Señor Ansa and me to go to Monterey and to the port of San Francisco, as I afterward learned, for the reasons which I shall state in my entry for the next day. But I combated that proposal, saying that I wished to fulfill the orders that had been given me, etc.; and finally, after various arguments, I concluded by saying:
Spare your pains, gentlemen, for I have no intention of remaining. If Señor Ansa leaves me and gives me no supplies, I shall have to remain because I have no saddle animals nor any place to get them from, but if Señor Ansa wishes to furnish me provisions I will go with his Grace wherever he may go. I will accompany him in all his labors and throughout his journey, for I still can ride on horseback; and if on the way I play out and can go no further I shall be content even though he may leave me somewhere.
The conversation ended and we retired in the harmonious spirit which we had been observing, although at variance because we had spoken plainly, for it is usually thus.
Wednesday, February 7 SP -- It was impossible to start because it rained all night and continued in the same way for most of the day. All these days we talked much of Monterey and more of the port of San Francisco, Señor Ribera saying that we might spare ourselves this journey because we would not succeed in the purpose of our going. On this point it is necessary to remember that in virtue of the exploration of the port of San Francisco made by Captain Don Pedro Fages in company with Father Fray Juan Crespi in the year 1772, in the month of March, and of the report which was given of it, accompanied by a map in which they delineated a great river which they said they had found and called the Rio de San Francisco, an order came from Madrid to the effect that port should be occupied and settled immediately. With this in view the viceroy ordered Commander Ribera to go to examine the port and seek there a good site in which to found a presidio and settlement, to serve as a start or beginning for subsequent plans; and to this purpose the present expedition for the escort of families by Commander Ansa was directed, as is evident from his Excellency's decree given in Mexico, November 28, 1774.
In consequence of that order Commander Ribera, accompanied by Father Fray Francisco Palóu, went to explore the port in the latter part of the same year of 1774. Since it was then raining they stopped a few days near the Punta de Almejas, until one morning Señor Ribera went alone to explore the port, which was near there, going as far as the outside of the mouth, where he set up a cross, as I shall show in the proper place. All that stretch which he crossed consisted of sand dunes, and without having seen another thing he returned to Monterey. Then he wrote to Mexico informing his Excellency that in the port and all its vicinity there was no place to found a presidio or to establish the two missions which had been endowed and decided upon for that port.
To this it is to be added that Señor Ribera from that time on was an avowed opponent of the new foundation, and it was for this reason that he made the report declaring that the place was impossible. Furthermore. he stubbornly opposed executing a new order which he received, to the effect that as soon as Señor Ansa should arrive the two should go to inspect the port and jointly select the best site for the settlement and presidio; and that then the people of this expedition should go to it immediately. Indeed, in this matter of not taking advice Señor Ribera is worse than Señor Ansa, because he is so satisfied with himself and the experiences which he has had, as he himself says, that he does not like to take suggestions from anybody about anything.
For carrying out this idea, then, the uprising in San Diego played right into his hand; for as a result of it he had the pretext that, even assuming that the port of San Francisco might be suitable for what was planned, it was impossible for him to go there until he had secured and pacified the port of San Diego. Therefore, as early as the 1st he had decided that he would not leave San Diego even though we might go to Monterey, and that in such case, on our return he would receive the expedition, which Senor Ansa was to deliver to him, at the mission of San Gabriel, where they agreed to meet at that time. But he always urged us not to go there, perhaps fearful that we would explore the harbor better than he, and therefore would give a report in conflict with the one which he had made. He kept saying to us:
Why do you want to go there to tire yourselves out, when I have already told you that I have carefully examined all that region, and have reported to the viceroy that there is nothing there for the purpose in mind?
At that time I thought this insistence was candid and founded in truth; for I did not understand his ulterior motives until later, when I learned many things at the mission of Carmelo and had the experiences which I shall go on relating. Nevertheless, I was always of the opinion that we ought to go there, even before coming to San Diego. For example, on the second day after we arrived at San Gabriel the commissary came to me and said:
Father, we are fortunate in having found Commander Ribera here, for now we shall be relieved of traveling any further.
Indeed, why? I said to him, and he replied:
Because, after delivering the people of the expedition here to Señor Ribera there is nothing more to do.
Well, and why are we to be excused from going to Monterey, I said, "if these are Señor Ansa's instructions?"
But what is the necessity for doing so, he replied to me, "since Señor Ribera is here? Is it not better to deliver the people to him here, and to return, for thereby in a month from now we shall be in Sonora?"
I replied:
No, Señor, it is better to comply with our instructions and do our duty, which is to go to Monterey and from there go and explore the port of San Francisco.
At first Señor Ansa was somewhat inclined to go no further. Nevertheless, he always made it appear that he desired to continue the journey. To this, perhaps, my views contributed; for although he did not ask me for my opinion, I think that he was not ignorant of it, because doubtless the commissary had reported what I told him when he came to inquire as to my wish. And so we were always talking about the matter, asking Señor Ribera various questions as to what he knew and had seen, and insisting on the continuation of the journey. Therefore, Señor Ribera at last agreed that Señor Ansa should go to Monterey with the people, except ten soldiers and their families, whom he was to leave in San Gabriel, as I learned yesterday, ascertaining at the same time that we were not going in light order of marching as Señor Ansa had told me on January 28.
Concerning the Rio Grande de San Francisco even a greater dispute arose; for Señor Ribera assured us that there was no such river, contrary to the report which was now so generally accepted and which all the soldiers from there confirmed. And Señor Ribera was right, as we afterwards saw and as I shall demonstrate. He said that this was asserted by Don Joseph Cañizares, the pilot of the frigate San Carlos, the bark which entered the port at the end of last year. Several times he recounted the story, as follows: The bark San Carlos arrived at the mouth of the port of San Francisco, and having anchored it sent its pilot, Cañizares, with the launch to go inside and explore everything. At the end of a week he returned, and when his captain asked him about the Rio Grande he replied that he had found no such river. The captain then asked him if he had reached the head of the harbor, and when he told him that he had not, he replied, "Well, take supplies for two weeks and go back and explore everything without leaving anything unexamined."
Cañizares went again, and during this time one night the bark raised anchor to make itself safer because it was drifting ashore, for without their noticing it the very currents were driving it within the harbor. When they looked they found themselves already inside, and so they anchored near the Isla del Angel, where Cañizares found the bark when he returned. Cañizares reported that he had followed all the coast of the harbor, and nowhere had he found any great river, but had seen only several arroyos and small rivers. It is to be noted that Cañizares, perhaps in order not to make himself disliked by the fathers, who were biased, having given a report of the river, and drawn the map for the report and diary of Father Fray Juan Crespi, told them in Monterey and El Carmelo that there was such a river and that he had entered it, and that within it he had taken on water. Such are we human beings, that many times in order to humor others we hide the truth.
And so a long discussion took place as to whether or not there was such a river, in which, although they did not give me much opportunity, I also expressed my opinion. Once I said:
Señor, it may be that the river is very large in the time of the floods, since it comes from the Sierras Nevadas, and that it was in that season when Señor Fages saw it, but that in its natural course it is an ordinary river, and that Señor Cañizares saw it at that time.
Señor Ansa replied to me very dryly, still miffed on account of what had happened the night before:
Father, I do not know.
I see that you do not know, I said to him. "But I say this in order to harmonize these two conflicting reports." Señor Ansa then said to Señor Ribera:
Please do me the favor of sketching the harbor on a piece of paper.
Now, during these days I had copied a map of the port of Bodega which the pilot of the goleta gave to Señor Ribera after they discovered the port, and likewise a sketch which Señor Ribera had not seen of the port of San Francisco. It was made by the same pilot and very badly drawn, but to it I added my ideas, according to what Señor Ribera had explained to us, in order that it might serve me as guide. Señor Ansa knew of this because he saw me make it. Señor Ribera began to draw lines, but his hand and arm trembled so violently that he did not draw very accurately what he wished. Thereupon, although they did not ask me for it, I brought out my sketch and learned whatever else I could regarding the matter.
It was now decided that we should have to go to see the port and settle this question of the river. Señor Ansa said:
Is there not some soldier here who went with Captain Fages?
Señor Ribera replied: "Yes, there is. The sergeant is here, and if you wish to satisfy yourself we will send for him."
Well, call him, said Señor Ansa.
Thereupon Señor Ribera sent for the sergeant and as soon as he came he said, very angrily:
There you have the sergeant, talk with him until you are tired.
The sergeant was asked if he had seen the great river. He replied that he had seen it, had been on its banks, and had drunk water from it, and he ended by saying that he would swear to it. This was a mistake of the soldiers who found the water of the tulares fresh, as I shall show in the proper place, for, without reflecting whether it flowed, or upon any other matter, they called it a river. Finally, Señor Ansa concluded this matter by saying:
Friend, I am going there, and if we find the river I will take from it an alimeta of water, and will seal it very carefully. And right now I beg Father Fray Pedro to promise to write me a certificate at that time that the water in that alimeta is from the Rio Grande de San Francisco, in order that I may present it to the viceroy; but if there is no such river we will confirm the report of Cañizares.
Señor Ansa still insisted that the people should go to the port of San Francisco, saying that the viceroy had urgently charged him with this, and had told him that if no suitable place were found near the mouth of the port, the settlement should be made wherever he might think best, even though it might be some leagues from the port, in order that thereby it might be seen that the harbor already had been occupied on the part of Spain. Señor Ribera replied that this was a very different matter, for he had been ordered that the settlement should be established near the port, and for this reason he had reported that this could not be, because there was no good site there; but that he would not deny that places might be found at a distance from it, and this being the case he felt very much better. Finally, seeing that Señor Ansa was determined to go to examine the port, and that he could not prevent us, Señor Ribera concluded by saying:
Well, friend, go ahead, go ahead, and explore to your satisfaction and do what to you seems best. On the return you will tell me what you have seen, and I from this moment agree to whatever you may decide.
From that night Señor Ansa was very much offended at Señor Ribera because he was so hostile to the new establishment; and this decision of Señor Ansa, with whom I, as his companion, made myself a participant in the hatred of Señor Ribera, was the beginning of the tilts and encounters which we had afterward, as I shall say later on.
Thursday, February 8 SP -- Although in the morning it was not raining, it was decided that we should remain here today because the weather was not settled. And yet, this delay was attributed to me in this manner: The saddle animals were brought in, and since the day was very unsettled, with a very troublesome and cold wind, when they were going to saddle up, the two commanders asked me what I thought, whether to start or to wait, saying that I must decide. I made some mild excuses, but finally I said that although I favored starting, if the weather should stop us on the way we would gain nothing by starting. Thereupon Señor Ribera, who was inclined to have us wait?and Señor Ansa did not oppose it?said, "Well, the Father has declared himself, and his opinion is that we should wait." And so they ordered the animals taken away, and we remained here until next morning.
Friday, February 9 SP -- This morning, on account of the previous rains, the river of this presidio, which comes from the Sierra Madre nearly to the southwest and after passing the hill of the presidio turns to the south and empties into the port, was very high. The three fathers bade me and the gentlemen goodbye, and I tried as best I could to console Lieutenant Ortega, who was very much offended by the insults shown him by Señor Ribera with little or no reason.
At a quarter to nine in the morning we set out from the presidio of San Diego, Commander Ansa and the rest. Commander Ribera remained, as I said above, having decided not to move until he should finish capturing the malefactors and leave the presidio secure, although, since I was then ignorant of his intention, I urged him strongly to come with us. At a quarter past five in the evening we arrived at the place called Agua Hedionda, having traveled some thirteen leagues by the same roads and in the directions opposite those in going, mainly to the northwest -- Thirteen leagues.
On the way I said to Senor Ansa:
Senor, where shall we stop tonight?
At Los Batequitos, or at whatever point we reach, he replied.
That is all right, I said. "But aren't we going to eat a bite? When you are on horseback you never think of eating anything, or of what we shall eat."
He replied, "Since we ate breakfast this morning I have been so well satisfied that I am not hungry."
We had made breakfast of a couple of eggs and it was now nearly four o'clock in the afternoon.
Well, what are a couple of eggs? I replied. "I must confess I am a man and that I eat because I am hungry. Isn't there something at hand?"
At the presidio they had put up some provisions for the road, and a servant now replied:
Here are some bread and cheese.
Well, bring them along, I said. "That's fine."
I took some and ate, and Señor Ansa took some bread, although he had just told me that he was not hungry, and then he wanted some cheese. He was somewhat angry with what I had said, but he got over it, and from here forward he always arranged that a servant should have at hand boiled meat, bread, and cheese. About noon he would ask me if I wished to eat something, and although we might be traveling we would eat a mouthful, which formerly had not been done.
Saturday, February 10 SP -- We set out from Agua Hedionda at seven o'clock in the morning, and at a quarter to six in the afternoon halted at a small arroyo a league before reaching La Quema, having traveled some sixteen leagues, the principal direction being to the northwest, but with some variation as on going. The arroyos now all had water and the river at the site of San Juan Capistrano was very high. We surmised that its waters came from the slopes of the valley of E1 Príncipe and the pass of San Carlos in the sierra, which lies straight east of that place, and which, viewed from the hills, is seen to be not very far away. There are so many hills to be crossed on this road that yesterday I began to take the trouble to count them, and, not counting the smallest, we ascended and descended twenty-one hills, and today we went up and down fifty-four. Sixteen leagues.
Sunday, February 11 SP -- We set out from the small arroyo at seven in the morning, and at half past four in the afternoon halted on the banks of the Santa Ana River after fording it, having traveled some fifteen leagues in varying directions as on going, the principal one being to the northwest. Here we overtook the pack train, which had set out from the presidio on the 4th, and, being delayed by the rains, had reached this river only a little ahead of us. Today I counted twenty-seven hills which we ascended and descended. Among the infinite variety of flowers, such as tulips and others of very diverse colors and very pretty with which from now on the fields, groves, and valleys of those lands begin to be clothed, I saw several like those in Spain. Among them are some very pretty and small ones with five petals, which look like a face, exactly like those which I saw in some gardens in Cataluña and which are there called pensamientos, with only the difference that those are yellow and somewhat brown on the edges of the petals, while these are entirely yellow and have no odor. - Fifteen leagues.
Monday, February 12 SP -- We set out from the Santa Ana River at seven in the morning, and at two in the afternoon arrived at the mission of San Gabriel, having traveled some ten leagues, with the same variation of directions as on going, but traveling principally to the northwest. Before sunset the pack train arrived. Today we went up and down twenty-three hills which, together with the rest, make a hundred and twenty-five -- Ten leagues.
At this mission we heard the news that last night a soldier of Monterey who was in the mission guard, and four others, two servants and two muleteers of the expedition, deserted with thirty saddle animals belonging to the mission and to some private individuals, taking other things which they stole at the camp; and that the lieutenant of the expedition had set forth with nine soldiers in pursuit of them. This was very disconcerting to Señor Ansa and me, because we had come here planning to continue at once the journey to Monterey, but now this occurrence would detain us, especially since the mission did not have provisions to enable the people to remain here any longer, and Father Paterna did not wish to furnish rations or anything else. Moreover, we found the soldiers of the expedition very much dissatisfied, claiming that Señor Ansa had deceived them. They objected to going any further, saying that, having been promised the pay of three hundred and sixty-four pesos and rations, now they found themselves without food, dying of hunger, lacking the cows and other things which they were promised them when they enlisted, and the salary paid in inferior goods and charged at a hundred and fifty per cent of their value.
Señor Ansa now found himself very much put to it by the shortage of provisions, for he had scarcely what was necessary to escort so many people. And here was confirmed what I said to him on the 1st of December, at night, during the talk which we had, and when he became so angry, telling me that only as a favor to the fathers was he delaying a day to build them a hut, because he now had very few provisions and could not remain any longer. I replied that this was his duty, and that they had entrusted him with this commission in order that, being experienced, he might provide what was necessary, and be prepared for whatever might happen. I told him that he ought to remember that in this expedition he was like a ship captain, who, having to make a journey of four months, ought to provide supplies for six: and that he not only ought but might have done so, for they had opened to him the royal chests for anything that might be necessary.
Tuesday, February 13 SP -- On account of what had happened it was decided to wait a few days until the lieutenant should return. I observed the latitude of this mission, but because the day was cloudy I was not satisfied with the result. In the afternoon I went with Father Paterna and Señor Ansa to view the mission's very good new field of wheat, and I was pleased to see how those recently converted Indians applied themselves to the plow and to their tasks, and to witness the manifest success of the labors of these fathers, who with their own example are showing them how to work, Father Paterna putting his own hand to the plow.
Wednesday, February 14 SP -- The day was dark until afternoon, when it cleared up. Father Paterna assembled all the neophytes of his mission and asked me to play for them a little on the musical instrument, with which they were very much pleased. At night arrived two of the soldiers who went with the lieutenant, he having sent them back because their horses had become tired out; and they told how the lieutenant was going determined to overtake the deserters, whose fresh tracks he was following.
Thursday, February 15 SP -- In the morning it was raining and it continued until noon. In the afternoon it cleared up a little. Nothing particular happened.
Friday, February 16 SP -- We continued without any special occurrence, except that Senor Ansa, from the day when we arrived at the mission, was indisposed in the stomach and every afternoon vomited his food.
Saturday, February 17 SP -- In the morning the weather was clear and good. I again observed the latitude of this mission, and found it without correction to be in 33° 58 1/2' and with correction in 34° 5 1/2', and so I say: at the mission of San Gabriel, February 17, 1776, meridian altitude of the lower limb of the sun. 43° 42'.
Sunday, February 18 SP -- I said Mass, and after the gospel I preached a few words to the people of the expedition, exhorting them to have patience in their trials and be resigned to them, after the example of Jesus Christ, who gladly bore the agony which he knew he had to suffer in Jerusalem, because after suffering and death, resurrection and rest follow. The day continued fair and nothing new happened, except that Don Juan was worse today from his indisposition, which came from the nausea caused by the food prepared at the mission, whose cooks were some boys who were so slovenly that not only did they prepare things without cleanliness, and not at all carefully, but as outlandishly dirty as themselves. Besides, we ate without tablecloths on the top of an old door which served as a table and was so greasy and dirty that one could scrape off the filth which was on it with a knife. But I think this vomiting came upon him especially because he had become despondent over the setback caused by the deserters; at finding the people of the expedition discontented with the hundred and fifty per cent charged for the goods given them for their pay (an arrangement which was unknown to Señor Ansa when he set out from Mexico, according to what he said, for he understood that they would be paid in cash); and because the people were asking him for food, since they were suffering from hunger, and were selling to the mission whatever they had to provide a remedy, as he had no means of getting provisions to give them, since all that could be obtained from the store at San Diego had come with the pack train. For all these reasons, then, Don Juan during these days was very sad and melancholy, and I even tried to cheer him up a bit by drawing him into conversation and diverting him a little while with the instrument.
Monday, February 19 SP -- I said Mass. It continued to be fair today, and Don Juan was better. I again observed to satisfy myself, and the same latitude resulted as on the 17th, 34° 5 1//2', with correction, and about a half a minute less without correction, 33° 59', and so I say: at the mission of San Gabriel, February 19,1776, meridian altitude of the lower limb of the sun, 41° 24'.
It was decided not to await the lieutenant any longer than tomorrow, because the days were passing and the conclusion of the journey of the expedition to Monterey was being delayed. In this decision I had a large part, for this morning after Mass I went to visit Señor Ansa, and, finding him somewhat better, at which I was greatly pleased, I approached him and said to him that if this delay should retard the improvement of his health it would be wiser for us to go forward, because his health was the first consideration; for if he became sick what would we do? For then everything would be set back and lost. I said that it was better to start, because when once on the road the people would be contented and would stop complaining, but if we should delay any longer they would be more discontented each day and would keep using up the few remaining provisions, and then we should find it impossible to go on to Monterey. Thereupon we agreed that whether the lieutenant should return or not we would start on Ash Wednesday after Mass; and from this day forward Señor Ansa conducted himself toward me more affably than formerly.
Tuesday, February 20 SP -- I said Mass. The lieutenant did not return, so it was decided to resume the journey tomorrow, leaving at the mission of San Gabriel ten soldiers and two settlers, with their families, as was ordered by Commander Ribera in San Diego, they being selected today in order to continue the journey in the morning with the rest.
Wednesday, February 21 SP -- I pronounced the blessing with ashes and said Mass, and in it spoke a few words to the people who were remaining and to those who were going, for some of them wept and were displeased with this separation. With the gospel of the day I confirmed all that from the beginning of the journey I had said to them in the talks which I had made to them; that is, that they came to suffer and to set an example of Christianity to the heathen, etc. It all reduced itself to exhorting one and another to repentance for their sins, and to patience in their trials, etc., etc.
We set out from the mission of San Gabriel at half past eleven in the morning, and at half past four in the afternoon we halted at the Puertezuelo, having traveled six leagues, two to the west with some turns to one side and the other, and the rest to the west-northwest. At two leagues we crossed the Porciúncula River, which carries a great deal of water and, running toward the Bay of San Pedro, spreads out and is lost in the plains a little before reaching the sea. The land was very green and flower-strewn. The road has some hills and many mires caused by the rains, and for this reason the pack train fell very far behind. At the camp site there is permanent water, though little, and plenty of firewood. On the left at a distance runs the chain of hills which form the Bay of San Pedro in the sea, and on the right the Sierra Nevada, and another rough and long one which is in front of it. -- Six leagues.
Thursday, February 22 SP -- We set out from the Puertezuelo eight o'clock in the morning, and at half past three in the afternoon halted at the place called Agua Escondida, having traveled some ten leagues, about seven to the west by north, and the rest to the west-southwest. A little after leaving the camp site we entered a very spacious valley called Santa Ysabel, in the middle of which is the place called Los Nogales. This is a small spring of water, like a little lake, which rises in the middle of the plain and near which there are small walnut trees. At about seven leagues we came to the foot of the sierra which, together with the one which yesterday we passed through by the Puertezuelo and which today ran at our left, and the one which from the other side of San Gabriel runs in front of the Sierra Nevada and has been at our right, forms this valley, which ends here. We entered by a canyon which has little water, and then we went for about two leagues, ascending and descending ridges, to the camp site, which likewise is a valley, with little water and plentiful live oaks, formed by various hills of a spur of a range which extends from the Sierra Madre and runs to the sea. On the way we saw some heathen, although few, and these naked and unarmed; but they did not wish to come near. -- Ten leagues.
Friday, February 23 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from Agua Escondida at eight o'clock in the morning, and at half past six in the afternoon arrived at the Santa Clara River, having traveled some fifteen leagues, three to the west-southwest, five to the west, one to the northwest in order to reach the long grade and finally, having descended the slope, some six west to the river. -- Fifteen leagues.
The road in parts is level, and in parts one goes up and down the ridges until one reaches the long grade, from which one sees the sea and the first islands of the Channel of Santa Barbara. Descending this ridge, one finishes crossing the range which, as I said yesterday, extends from the Sierra Madre and ends at the sea. Then one enters a plain extending more than five leagues to the river and beyond. The range has many oaks and live oaks and other trees, and likewise some watering places, like those of E1 Triunfo and Los Conejos, and in it we saw four small villages. The camp site is somewhat lacking in firewood and the river is very miry and bad when it rises, but is was now low. Near it there was a fairly large village whose Indians had fish, because it is near the sea; and on the river there were many geese, ducks, cranes, and other fowl. We saw in the plain a very large drove of antelopes which, as soon as they saw us, fled like the wind, looking like a cloud skimming along the earth.
In the course of today we saw several Indians, all unarmed and naked. The women were very cautious and hardly a one left their huts, because the soldiers of Monterey, since they were not married, had offended them with various excesses which the unbridling of their passions caused them to commit with them. This shyness I observed in all the villages of the Channel. At the foot of the Cuesta Grande, near a small village, there is a spring of water like a well; and at twelve paces from it there is a good-sized spring of asphalt which rises right there, and I learned afterward that near the mission of San Gabriel there is another one. At sunset a very thick fog arose from the sea, with which the day ended very much clouded over, and the night was very dark. This matter of the fog is very common and continuous on those seas and coasts, but it is not injurious.
Saturday, February 24 SP -- We set out from the Santa Clara River at half past nine in the morning, and at half past three in the afternoon halted on a small elevation on the shore of the sea near the village of La Rinconada, having traveled some nine leagues. After starting we went three to the west, reaching the sea beach and the village called La Carpintería, situated near the Rio de la Asumpta, the first village of the Channel of Santa Barbara, unless one counts as the first one that of the Santa Clara River. The rest of the way was west by north, with some minor turns to the west at the headlands along the coast, which are numerous. -- Nine leagues.
After going three leagues, all the way over level country, we came to the sea beach and the village of La Carpintería, so-called because the first expedition saw them building launches there. Two leagues beyond is the village of Los Pitos, so-called because of the whistle which the men of the first expedition of Commander Portolá heard blown there all night. For this reason Señor Ribera, who then was going in the vanguard, fearful of some trick on the part of the Indians, kept the men on their arms all night, only to discover in the morning that it was a very small village of four little huts and without people.
All this road as far as the camp site runs along the sea beach, almost touching the waves. For this reason it is a very diverting way, and it would have been more so if the day had been clear and good, and not so murky from the fog. The people of the expedition who had never seen the sea found many things to marvel at. The Channel of Santa Barbara, which is very long, is so-called because out in the sea at a distance of some six or eight leagues there are several islands which with the mainland form a strait. And I would say that it also might be called a channel because the road runs all along the beach between the sea and the land; for there the land ends in very steep cliffs, as if they had been sliced off, so that it is almost impossible to climb up them because they are so high and broken, although they are not rocky but are composed of land well grown with good pasturage. In places there is no other way except along the beach, and in other stretches although there is a road which they call "along the heights," it runs on the edge of the sliced-off part of the hills, with great precipices over the sea, which is visible there below.
The Indians of the Channel are of the Quabajay tribe. They and the Beñeme have commerce with the Jamajab and others of the Colorado River, with their cuentas or beads, consisting of flat, round, and small shells which they hunt for in the sands of the beach, and of which they have long strings hung around the neck and on the head. The dress of the men is total nakedness. For adornment only they are in the habit of wearing around the waist a string or other gewgaw which covers nothing. For a head dress they are accustomed to tie in the hair a cord, as I said of the Gilenos on November 7, in which they put a little stick or feather, and especially the cuchillo. This is a thin stick about two inches wide and a third of a vara long, at the end of which they fix with pitch a rather long flint, pointed and sharpened to cut on both sides, or a knife blade, or some similar piece of iron if they are able to obtain one. This cuchillo they all wear across the head, fastening it with the hair.
They are also accustomed to carry a sweat stick, which is a long and somewhat sharp bone or similar thing, with which they scrape the body when they are perspiring, to remove the perspiration. They say that this is a very good thing because by doing so they cease to be tired. Some of them have the cartilage of the nose pierced, and all have the ears perforated with two large holes, in which they wear little canes which look like two horns, as thick as the little finger and more than half a palm long, in which they are accustomed to carry powder made of their wild tobacco, or some other gewgaw.
Their language is entirely distinct from the others. The captain whom they recognize in the villages they call Temi, just as the Jeniguechis and Benyeme call him Tomiar. The women cover themselves with a deer skin hung round the waist, and with some sort of a beaver skin cape over their backs, yet I saw very few women close at hand, for as soon as they saw us they all hastily hid in their huts, especially the girls, the men remaining outside blocking the doors and taking care that nobody should go inside. Once I went near a hut which I saw open, to examine its structure, for among all the huts which I saw in all the journey these are the best. They are round in form, like a half orange, very spacious, large and high. In the middle of the top they have an aperture to afford light and to serve as a chimney, through which emerges the smoke of the fire which they make which in the middle of the hut. Some of them also have two or three holes like little windows. The frames of all of them consist of arched and very strong poles, and the walls are of very thick grass interwoven. At the doors there is a mat which swings toward the inside like a screen, and another one toward the outside which they ordinarily bar with a whalebone or a stick.
I went to the door, and although I did not ask permission to go in, knowing their dislike for it, nevertheless two minutes could not have passed when they shut the inner door on me and I withdrew unenlightened. This is the result of the extortions and outrage which the soldiers have perpetrated when in their journeys they have passed along the Channel, especially in the beginning. Among them a certain Camacho was outrageous, and his fame became so wide among the Indians that they call every soldier Camacho. In fact, they all kept asking us for Camacho, and where was Camacho, and if Camacho was coming. Among the men I saw a few with a little cape like a doublet reaching to the waist and made of bear skin, and by this mark of distinction I learned that these were the owners or masters of the launches.
The Indians are great fishermen and very ingenious. They make baskets of various shapes, and other things very well formed, such as wooden trays and boxes, and things made of stone. Above all, they build launches with which they navigate. They are very carefully made of several planks which they work with no other tools than their shells and flints. They join them at the seams by sewing them with very strong thread which they have, and fit the joints with pitch, by which they are made very strong and secure. Some of the launches are decorated with little shells and all are painted red with hematite. In shape they are like a little boat without ribs, ending in two points somewhat elevated and arched above, the two arcs not closing but remaining open at the points like a V. In the middle there is a somewhat elevated plank laid across from side to side to serve as a seat and to preserve the convexity of the frame. Each launch is composed of some twenty lone and narrow pieces. I measured one and found it to be thirty-six palms long and somewhat more than three palms high. In each launch, when they navigate or go to fish, according to what I saw, ordinarily not more than two Indians ride in each end. They carry some poles about two varas long which end in blades, these being the oars with which they row alternately, putting the ends of the poles into the water, now on one side and now on the other side of the launch. In this way they guide the launch wherever they wish, sailing through rough seas with much boldness. In this place of La Rinconada I counted nine launches, besides one that was to be mended, and I concluded that with some instruction those Indians would become fine sailors.
All the settlements or rancherías of the Channel have a community place for playing, consisting of a very smooth and level ground, like a bowling green, with low walls around it, in which they play, rolling a little half-round stick. Likewise, near the villages they have a place which we called the cemetery, where they bury their dead. It is made of several poles and planks painted with various colors, white, black, and red, and set up in the ground. And on some very tall, straight and slim poles which we called the towers, because we saw them from some distance, they place baskets which belonged to the deceased, and other things which perhaps were esteemed by them, such as little skirts, shells, and likewise in places some arrows. Over the deceased they place the ribs or other large bones of the whales which are customarily stranded on those coasts.
They also have a common temescal. This is a hot, closed room for sweating, made somewhat subterranean and very firm with poles and earth, and having at the top, in the middle, an opening like a scuttle, afford air and to serve as a door, through which they go down inside by a ladder consisting of straight poles set in the ground and joined together, one being shorter than the other. I peeped into a temescal and perceived a strong heat coming up from it. In the middle of them they make a fire. The Indians enter to perspire, seated all around, and as soon as they perspire freely and wet the ground with their sweat, they run out and jump into the sea, which is close by, to bathe themselves.
These Indians are well formed and of good body, although not very corpulent, on account of their sweating, as I judge. The women are fairly good looking. They wear pendants in their ears and have the front hair short and banged like a tupe, the rest falling over the shoulders. The arms used by these Indians are the bow and arrow, like all the rest, but their arrows are of wood and very well and carefully made, and not of reeds like those commonly used by the Apaches, Pimas, and the others. Their bows are small, being only about a vara long, but very strong, and all are wound with tendons and are graceful in form. Their customs are the same as those of the others. They live without law or king, and especially without knowledge of God, so far as I was able to ascertain. They devote themselves to fishing, by means of which, together with the seeds of grass, they maintain themselves with much misery and hunger. They are also clever and not very dull, as it appeared to me; for although we did not have an interpreter through whom to talk to them, we were able to understand them by signs like those used by mutes, with which they explained themselves well.
But they are very thievish, a characteristic of all Indians. On passing through the village of La Carpintería we stopped for a while because it was the first one, to see the launches, cemetery, etc. Señor Ansa, I, and others dismounted, and right there in front of so many people an Indian was clever enough to take from the saddle of Señor Ansa a linen sun-cloth which he left on it when he dismounted. We remounted and a little after we started Señor Ansa missed the cloth. A servant of his went back to the village to look for it. He asked for the cloth, and they denied knowledge of it, but told him to go to a certain hut where he might find it. From these islands should not be depopulated, especially this one, and that efforts should not be made to have the Indians leave it for the purpose of their reduction and conversion to Christianity.
Sunday, February 25 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from the village of La Rinconada at nine o'clock in the morning, and at three in the afternoon halted at a place called the vicinity of the Rancherías de Mescaltitán. having traveled some nine leagues, about six west by north, two to the northwest, and finally a short league to the southwest, to get around some estuaries which are near there -- Nine leagues.
The road was the same as yesterday, along the beach. At two leagues we came to the villages of San Buenaventura, [Fotnote 245] which are two, one on each side of a plain about a league long, where it was planned to found the mission of San Buenaventura, which is already endowed, but was not founded for lack of orders. It has some pasturage and plentiful live oaks, but little water. A league farther on we came to another village, and going still another league we arrived at the village of La Laguna. Here we obtained some baskets in exchange for glass beads, and supplied ourselves with fish, because just then a launch which had been fishing arrived at the shore and brought several very good fish of different kinds and of different colors and shapes, which I did not recognize. At this time I saw how they beached the launches. It was as follows: When it arrived at the shore ten or twelve men approached the launch, took it on their shoulders still loaded with the fish, and carried it to the house of the master or captain of the launch, distinguished by the bearskin cape. The implements with which they fish are very large nets, and hooks which they make of shells, and likewise an occasional small net made of a very strong thread like hemp.
At the camp Señor Ansa offered me some of his baskets, telling me to choose the ones I liked; but as I had no place in which to carry them I replied that if at the end of the journey he would give them to me I would take them then. He said he would give me as many as I wanted; but afterward he gave me none, because at the end of the journey I was out of favor with him.
Monday, February 26 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from the vicinity of Mescaltitán at a quarter past eight in the morning, and at half past three in the afternoon halted at a small elevation on the shores of the sea near Ranchería Nueva, having traveled some ten leagues, most of the way along the beach, about one league being to the southwest, two to the west- southwest to go around the estuaries of Mescaltitan, and the rest nearly to the west-northwest, with some declination to the west -- Ten leagues.
At a league we came to Mescaltitán, a pretty place which appeared to be a good site for a mission. Here there are three large villages, two somewhat apart, on the banks of the estuary, the largest one being on the road which we were traveling. With two leagues more we came to the two villages of San Pedro y San Pablo. They are situated on two little elevations, and between them passes one of the many arroyos which I mentioned on the Channel. They come from the quite high sierra that ran along our right, where there are seen many pines which bear good and large pine nuts, with shells so soft that one can break them with the fingers. And finally we came to Ranchería Nueva. From the camp site I saw various waterspouts thrown up by the whales which were swimming around there. Beyond the villages of San Pedro y San Pablo much tar which the sea throws up is found on the shores, sticking to the stones and dry. Little balls of fresh tar are also found. Perhaps there are springs of it which flow out into the sea, because yesterday on the way the odor of it was perceptible, and today from Mescaltitán forward the scent was as strong as that perceived in a ship or in a store of tarred ship tackle and ropes.
The Indians whom we saw today are just like those I described yesterday; but the women, who are not ugly featured, immediately hid with their little children, and only now and then did one permit herself to be seen. Today, in exchange for glass beads, the people obtained at the villages several baskets and stone cups very well shaped, and wooden trays of various forms, and other curious pieces. I surmise that these Indians, who are so ingenious and so industrious, would become experts if they had teachers and suitable tools or implements, for they have nothing more than flints, and with them and their steady industry they make their artifacts.
All the road today was very diverting, and it would have been more so if it had not been for the fogs, which are very continuous here. This morning it was foggy at daybreak, and we got as wet as if it had been raining. A little after we started it cleared up, but there remained on the sea a low line of fog which prevented us from seeing the islands. At noon another fog arose, and came out on the beach between our feet as if it were smoke, so thick that we could not even see the people that were coming behind. At one moment it was dispelled and the next it again took form; but in spite of this the day was very pleasant.
Tuesday, February 27 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from camp near Ranchería Nueva at eight o'clock in the morning, and at half past three in the afternoon halted on the sea beach near the village of E1 Coxo, having traveled some ten leagues nearly to the west-northwest, or with some deviation to the west -- Ten leagues.
In the morning there was a fog which wet us like mist. It lasted on the land until noon and still continued on the sea, not permitting us to see the islands. The road during the forenoon was heavy because we went along the top of the hills, for all of them end at the sea in cliffs, and so all the way was up and down for the first half of the journey, after which we took to the beach. A little after starting we came to the abandoned village whose Indians went to Ranchería Nueva because of war which their enemies made upon them. Afterward we passed through a small village, then followed another abandoned one which had nothing but the cemetery. Still farther on, descending a slope, we came to the village of La Gabiota, where we took to the beach. Then followed another small village. Afterward we came to the village of E1 Bulillo, where the launches had just returned from fishing. They came filled with large sardines about a palm long; and all the people provided themselves with fish in such abundance that we left there a part of what Señor Ansa had obtained for everybody, because there was nobody who wished to carry it. Finally, we passed through the village of E1 Coxo, and soon afterward halted at a small arroyo carrying very little water and very much lacking in firewood, having passed through five inhabited villages and two abandoned ones.
This place is near the Punta de la Concepcion, where the Santa Barbara Channel ends. The Indians whom we saw, in their customs, application to fishing, etc., are like those whom I have described above. Some came from the village to the camp and offered to clean the fish which we had with their knives. The commander loaned to one of them his pocket knife, which had a silver handle and sheath. The Indian, who doubtless liked the knife better than his flint one, waited until nobody was looking, and then departed with it unnoticed by anybody. Señor Ansa afterward missed the knife, and calling another Indian who was there, told him to go to the village and say that unless they returned the knife he would have to go and punish them. The Indian went and a short time afterward returned with the knife, excusing the person who had carried it away, saying that he had taken it away innocently, thinking that it had been given to him, and that he was afraid to return. This incident is proof of the inclination which every Indian has to steal, and it likewise proves that these Indians are not very warlike.
Wednesday, February 28 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from camp near the village of E1 Coxo at eight o'clock in the morning, and at four in the afternoon halted near the Santa Rosa River, having traveled some twelve leagues, about one northwest, two north-northwest, two northwest, two west-northwest, following a semicircle formed by the coast here, until we doubled Punta de la Concepción, which is the last point of the Channel and the most extended. Then we made about a league to the north, two north-northwest, and two northwest, halting near the beach -- Twelve leagues.
After going about three leagues we came to the village of La Espada, and after two more to the village of Los Pedernales. These two villages are somewhat poor, have fewer people than the others, and are the last on the Channel, which ends at the Punta de la Concepción, following the sea and its coast to the west, for from here it turns to the north and northwest. All the forenoon the northwest wind was very strong and somewhat cold, with some fog; and then the wind turned to the north and the day was very dark, with a high fog which caused us a very cold and unpleasant afternoon. All the way the road runs along the top of the hills, for it is not possible to travel on the beach because of the reefs. But the road is in sight of the sea and not far from it until one gets very near the river, when one goes right down to the beach. Before reaching the river one travels for a good stretch through sand dunes and sandy hills.[ Footnote 249]
At Punta de la Concepción the range which we have had on our right ends, and from this point the country sharply changes its appearance. All the land is thickly covered with flowers, and green with a great variety of grasses, good pasturage, and fragrant and useful plants. Today from the time when we left the camp I saw much samphire, just the same in leaf and in taste as that grown on the rocks and on the walls along the coast of Cataluña, with the difference that the trunk rises from the earth about half a vara, and that it has a thinner leaf. Today it was in full bloom, with yellow blossoms like small sunflowers, which were so abundant that they provided a very pleasing sight all the way.
The Santa Rosa River is large, but it is so overgrown with brush on its banks and in the middle of the stream, and has so bad a channel, that it does not afford a passage except near its mouth, and this at low tide. For when the tide rises it overflows and floods a great plain or tule marsh along the banks of the river between the hills on one side and the other, but when it goes down the tide recedes with great rapidity. For this reason we were not able to ford the river today, and we had to wait at this place, which is very short of firewood and of good water, because that of the river is salty and oily. The soldiers told me that the tulares, of which I shall speak in the proper place, reach as far as this river; or that this river, which is so miry, is a part of the tulares.
Thursday, February 29 SP -- In the morning it was foggy, having been so all night; but in the middle of the forenoon it cleared up, though before noon it again became so thick that though we halted on the shores of the sea it was not visible. We set out from camp near the Santa Rosa River at noon, for it was not possible to start earlier because it was necessary to wait for low tide in order to ford the stream. At a quarter past three, having traveled some four leagues to the north with some diviation to the northeast, we halted at Laguna Graciosa, so-called because it is small and of very fine water, although it is in pools almost between sand dunes and near the sea. Before reaching the river the road runs along the beach, but afterward it recedes a little from the coast, which is full of rocks and reefs. Some sand dunes or sandy hills are passed, and likewise a fairly wide flat between two hills and half closed in by a pool of water which is there, having no exit toward the sea, but not very miry. In this flat we saw a band of six bears, of which many large ones are found in those lands. -- Four leagues.