Expanded Diary of Father Pedro Font
Colonizing Expedition, 1775-1776
Monday, April 1 SP -- I said Mass. In the morning the sky was thickly covered with very damp fog, but we did not feel cold. It appears that it is warmer here and farther on even still warmer, according to the heat which we felt today during the journey. From this, together with the plague of long-billed mosquitoes, which after leaving this arroyo began to bite us and pursued us all the way to the place where we camped, especially in the flats and in the groves on the arroyos, it might almost be called Tierra Caliente. The fog continued until the middle of the forenoon; then it cleared up and the sky became serene and the sun rather hot. The way was varied, now level, now hilly, but all the country was very green and flower-strewn, with an abundance of lilies.
We set out from the Arroyo de la Harina at seven o'clock in the morning, and at half past four in the afternoon halted at a small arroyo with very little water, near the bay and about a league before reaching the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, having traveled some fourteen leagues, about nine to the west-northwest, then some three to the northwest, and northwest by west, going up and down the hills which from here begin to form the bay, and the rest of the way to the northwest and north-northwest and somewhat to the north, winding around on all this stretch over the hills mentioned. -- Fourteen leagues.
The road followed the foothills of the range which I mentioned on the 8th of March. In all its exterior this range has very few trees, except a grove of redwoods in front of the mouth of the port, although in its interior it has thickly grown groves and is quite broken, as we saw on our return when we crossed it and at the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, where it ends in some hills that are very high and very round.
After going two leagues we came to an arroyo with little water but with a very deep bed grown with cottonwoods, live oaks, laurels and other trees, crossing it at the foot of the hills by making a detour. Before crossing it we saw on a slope four bears which, according to all accounts, are very plentiful through here also, for we saw several Indians badly scarred by bites and scratches of these animals. After going about two more leagues we crossed a small arroyo without water and almost without trees. Then a little further on we ascended a hill which is in a straight line with the mainland and the plain which runs toword a very thick grove of oaks and live oaks on the banks of the estuary, and is almost made into an island by two arms of the estuary. From there I mapped this grove and the two arms of the estuary, and I am inserting the map here on the back of this sheet. Then, descending the hill, we crossed another arroyo almost without trees and with some little pools of water which did not run. This appears to be the arroyo which Father Crespi called the Arroyo del Bosque and which empties into the extremity of one arm of the estuary.
We continued the journey over hills and plains, crossing two more arroyos with little water, deep beds, and a heavy growth of trees, the second one having more than the other, and both of them flowing into a bay which the arm of the estuary forms on this side. Afterward we entered a plain in which we crossed two small arroyos without water. From this plain we clearly descried the mouth of the port, and when the point of the red cliff on the inside was in line with the outer point of the mouth, I observed the direction in which they ran, and saw that it was to the west with some declination to the south. It appeared to me that the estuary in front of the mouth must be sorne four leagues wide. Our road ran apart from the estuary about two leagues.
Then we crossed an arroyo with a small growth of trees and very little water, which appears to be the one which Father Crespi called the Arroyo de la Bocana. Farther down this arroyo there is a grove or growth of not very large timber. Having seen tracks of the large deer whose hoof tracks in the ground are almost like those of cattle, the soldiers went to hunt for them in the brush, but, although they found them they were not able to get any. Then we continued over level land and some small hills. Along here we saw an Indian in the plain, who, as soon as he saw us, was so frightened that he ran up a hill and hid behind some rocks. Afterward we ascended some hills and came to a rather deep arroyo with a growth of trees and little water, on whose banks we saw an abandoned village.
From here we continued, now in the plain and now over hills. Seven Indians came out to us on the road. The commander gave them glass beads and they followed us to the next arroyo which was not very far away. We crossed it with some difficulty because the bed was very deep, with a heavy growth of live oaks, sycamores, and other trees. Here we found a village where we saw about twenty-three Indian men, and some seven women, for the rest were in the woods hunting for tule, herbs, and roots of the kinds they eat. The commander presented them with glass beads and they were very well content and obliging, giving us cacomites, half roasted or roasted. On the way I mapped the large and very long island which is on this side close to the land, and from the end of which begins the large bay.
From here we traveled northwest over hills, up and down. Having passed two or three small arroyos without water we came to an arroyo with very little water on whose banks we found a fair-sized village whose Indians, both men and women, were very happy to see us and very obliging. They presented us with many cacomites, which is a little bulb or root almost round and rather flat, and the size and shape of a somewhat flattened ball, and likewise with a good string of roasted amole, which is another root like a rather long onion, all well cooked and roasted. I ate some of it and liked the taste, and the commander gave the Indians glass beads. The amole, which is their most usual food, tastes a little like meseal. It is the food which most abounds, and the fields along here are full of it.
We continued on our way over hills and through valleys, and having passed a small arroyo we halted on the next little rivulet. This place is about a league before reaching the mouth of the Puerto Dulce or the mouth of what they called the Rio Grande de San Francisco,which I greatly desired to see, but which finally I did not see because there is no such river, as I shall show tomorrow.
As soon as we halted thirty-eight Indians came to us unarmed, peaceful, and very happy to see us. At first they stopped and sat down on a small hill near the camp. Then one came, and behind him another, and so they came in single file like a flock of goats, leaping and talking, until all had arrived. They were very obliging, bringing us firewood, and very talkative, their language having much gabbling, nothing of which we understood. They go naked like all the rest, and they are by no means white, but are like all those whom we saw on this journey; and they are very little bearded, not so much, indeed, as those whom we saw on the other side near the mouth of the port. After they had been a while with us they bade us goodbye and we made signs to them that they should go and get us some fish with two hooks which I gave them. They apparently understood us clearly, but they brought us nothing and showed very little appreciation for the hooks, because their method of fishing is with nets.
From the camp the roar of the sea was heard somewhat, for in the bay the waves break a little on the beach, although not very much. From a high hill before reaching the camp we looked out at the bay, for from that place most of it is visible. I saw that it is surrounded by hills and mountains on all sides, except for a large opening which lies almost west by north, in which direction for a good stretch runs a tongue of lowland, behind or beyond which it looked white like water, extending to another range which at the end and very far away looked blue. I surmised that perhaps in that direction the bay might communicate with the port of Bodega, for on account of the currents which he saw in it when he was there, Captain Don Juan de la Quadra was not able to say weather it was a sea or a river; and that port lies not very far from the bay in that direction, as I understand, although this is only a conjecture.
Tuesday, April 2 SP -- I said Mass. The night was serene and not very cold, and day dawned very clear and beautiful. It remained clear all day and was somewhat hot, which tempered the fresh wind which blew softly from the northwest. We set out from the little arroyo at seven o'clock in the morning, and passed through a village to which we were invited by some ten Indians, who came to the camp very early in the morning singing. We were welcomed by the Indians of the village, whom I estimated at some four hundred persons, with singular demonstrations of joy, singing, and dancing.
Their method of welcoming us was like this: At sunrise the ten Indians came, one behind another, signing and dancing. One carried the air, making music with a little stick, rather long and split in the middle, which he struck against his hand and which sounded something like a castanet. They reached the camp and continued their singing and dancing for a little while. Then they stopped dancing, all making a step in unison, shaking the body and saying dryly and in one voice, " Ha, ha, ha ! " Next they sat down on the ground and signalled to us that we must sit down also. So we sat down in front of them, the commander, I, and the commissary. Now an Indian arose and presented the commander with a string of cacomites, and again sat down. Shortly afterward he rose again and gave me a present of another string of cacomites and again sat down. In this way they went making us their little presents, another Indian giving me a very large root of chuchupate which he began to eat, telling me by signs that it was good.
This compliment being over, they invited us to go to their village, indicating that it was near by. The commander consented to give them this pleasure, and at once we began to travel. They followed after us with their singing and dancing, which I interrupted by chanting the Alabado; as we did every day on beginning the journey, but as soon as I finished they continued their singing and shouting with great vigor and in a higher key, as if they wished to respond to our chant. After going a short distance we came to the village, which was in a little valley on the bank of a small arroyo, the Indians welcoming us with an indescribable hullabaloo. Three of them came to the edge of the village with some long poles with feathers on the end, and some long and narrow strips of skin with the hair on, which looked to me like rabbit skin, hanging like a pennant, this being their sign of peace. They led us to the middle of the village where there was a level spot like a plaza, and then began to dance with other Indians of the place with much clatter and yelling.
A little afterward a rather old Indian woman came out, and in front of us, for we were on horse back, nobody having dismounted, she began to dance alone, making motions very indicative of pleasure, and at times stopping to talk to us, making signs with her hands as if bidding us welcome. After a short while I said to the commander that that was enough. So he gave presents of glass beads to all the women, they regaled us with their cacomites, and we said goodbye to everybody, in order to continue on our way. They were apparently sad because we were leaving, and I was moved to tenderness at seeing the joy with which we were welcomed by those poor Indians. Their color and other qualities of nakedness, slight beard, etc., are the same as those seen hitherto, and the same as those we saw farther on. Some wear the hair long, others short, and some have beards rather long and heavy.
We continued about a long league to the north and northeast and at nine o'clock arrived at the shore of the water near to and inside the Boca del Puerto Dulce, indicated on the map by the letter I, which hitherto has been considered as a large river, but which it is not, according to the experiments which we made and for reasons which I shall set forth. Here the commander decided that we should halt until after midday in order to observe the latitude of this place.
As soon as we arrived at the shore of the water we began to doubt that it was a river, because we did not see that it had any current, nor did the water have any more movement than that which we observed at the mouth of the port of San Francisco, where we noted a very gentle and inconspicuous motion, caused no doubt by the tide. Moreover, we did not notice on the banks any sign of a flood, much less any driftwood or trees, which naturally it would bring in its floods if it were a river, and especially so large a river. It might be argued that it brings no debris because its source is not very far away and that it runs through open country from which it cannot bring trees or other things, because there are none; but at least it must be conceded that it would have floods and that if it had them it would leave signs of them on its banks. But these banks are without any sign of floods, and its beaches, where it has any, are like those which we saw at the port.
This Puerto Dulce, indeed, is a gulf of fresh water, enclosed in canyon by hills of medium height on one side and the other. It runs almost to the east for a distance of some six leagues, and then widens out greatly in some immense plains, of which I shall speak tomorrow and day after tomorrow. In some places its banks are very precipitous, and in others it has a narrow beach on which, near the mouth, there were great piles of fresh-water mussels. The hills which from this channel are without trees, but those on this side have plentiful pasturage, while those on the other side appeared somewhat bald, with little grass, the earth being reddish in color. I tasted the water and found it salty although not so salty as that of the sea outside.
We saw there some launches very well made of tule, with their prows or points somewhat elevated. They had been anchored near the shore with some stones for anchors, and in the middle of the water some Indians were fishing in one, for in all this gulf of the Puerto Dulce the Indians enjoy plenty of excellent fish, among them being very fine salmon in abundance. I saw that they were fishing with nets and that they anchored the launch with some very long slim poles. By the way thay anchored it I was confirmed in the suspicion or opinion which I had already formed that the water had no current toward the bay, for I noticed that they anchored the raft on the upper side and headed in the direction opposite the mouth, which apparently would have been just the reverse if the water had flowed downstream. Seeing that they anchored the launch with these poles it was natural that they should reach the bottom. So I measured one of them and found it to be eleven and a half varas long, and by subtracting a good piece which remained out of water and above the launch in which the Indian fishermen were seated, I estimated that the water would be some nine or ten varas deep, noting at the same time that it is very quiet and placid.
Another proof I am going to give that the water had no current toward the bay. Among other fish which they caught the Indians who were fishing pulled out two very large ones, about two varas long, and their method of catching them was this: as soon as they felt from the pull made by the fish that it was in the net, which was tied to the two poles, they began gradually to raise one of the poles, and as soon as the fish and the net came into sight, without taking it from the water they gave the fish many blows on the head. Once I counted fifteen blows in succession and in another case twenty-odd. Now that it was dead and had lost its strength they took it from the net and put it inside the launch.
We called to these Indians, offering to buy their fish from them. At first they paid no attention to us, but as soon as the commander showed them a colored handkerchief they came to the shore in a hurry, bringing the two very large fish. I was not able to determine whether or not they were those called tollos, although from their form they appeared to be those, for they had a very large head, little eyes, small mouth like a tube which they puffed out and sucked in, the body having no scales, thick skin, and some spots like little stars and other figures, caused by some little bones which they had between the skin and the flesh. The flesh was very white, savory, and without spines and the bones were soft and spongy like tendons.
The commander offered glass beads for them, but the Indians woud not accept them at all, wishing to trade them only for clothing. Indeed, I did not see in any other place Indians like these, so desirous of clothing and so greedy for it that I was surprised, for they preferred any old rag to all the glass beads, which others are so fond of. Indeed, when the commander refused to give them clothing, a soldier bought a fish in exchange for an old cotton rag. But before delivering it they took the spawn from the stomach and an intestine like a pocket, and right there on the spot they ate the spawn raw and put what was left over in the intestine. Then they went to eat the other fish, which they dispatched quickly. Making a little fire, they put it in, and in a short time, almost before it was hot, like brutes they ate it as it was, almost raw. The soldier gave me a piece of his fish, and so we ate some of it.
Now comes the proof. As soon as the Indians ate the fish they got into their launch, and others embarked in others which were near the land. Raising the anchors, which were stones tied by a rope, they went to the other side of the water with great ease, steadiness, and rapidity, and only in the middle did we see that they used their oars a little. Now, they landed on the opposite side a good distance above the place from which they had set out on this side: whereas it appears the contrary would have been the case if the water had a current, for it is natural that if the water ran toward the bay, even though they should row they would come out on the other side below the place whence they set out on this side.
From a small elevation near the water and distant from the mouth about a quarter of a league upstream. I observed the width of the mouth, and from my observation I calculated that it would be a little less than a quarter of a league wide. In the bay and in front of the mouth there is an island which must be more than a league long from east to west, and about a quarter of a league wide. It is near the mouth, not in the middle of it, but toward the north side, and so placed as to divide that stretch of water into two branches, one larger than the other. All this I observed with the graphometer in the following way: I set the graphometer on a little elevation about a quarter of a league from the mouth, from which everything was visible, and sighting both ends of the island through the sights, the alidade showed me 40° in the clear, divided in this way, 6° from the island to the point on the other side, and 19° from the island to the point on this side. These 25° represented the water as divided into two branches, and the 15° remaining comprised the island, which was seen in the middle and somewhat outside of the mouth, toward the bay.
The channel of the water runs to the east, not straight but forming bends and inlets, and its width for three leagues upstream is essentially the same as that of the mouth, after which it begins to open out more. At this same place I observed the latitude and found it without correction to be in 37° 56 1/2' and with correction in 38° 5 1/2', and so I say: at the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, April 2, 1776, meridian altitude of the lower limb of the sun, 57°.
After midday we set out from the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, and at five o'clock halted on the banks of the arroyo of Santa Angela de Fulgino, having traveled in all some seven long leagues -- Seven leagues.
The direction of the six leagues covered this afternoon was two leagues east along the top of the hills close to the water, and one east-southeast up a canyon which had some oaks and other trees, by which we again came out at the top of the hills near the water. From this height we saw that the water here makes a bend on this side and widens out to about twice the width of the mouth, and that on the other shore directly opposite this place a point of land juts out a little and near it there is a rock or farallón within the water. Looking northeast we saw an immense plain without any trees, through which the water extends for a long distance, having in it several little islands of lowland. And finally, on the other side of the immense plain, and at a distance of about forty leagues, we saw a great Sierra Nevada whose trend appeared to me to be from south-southeast to north-northwest.
We descended from the top of the hills, and, having gone about half a league to the northeast, we traveled some three leagues more to the east- southeast until we halted at the arroyo. This afternoon from the top of the hills we saw on the other side of the water some Indians, who shouted at us, and after we descended from the hills to the plain several of them came out to us on the road. They appeared to be jolly and happy and good, and were very talkative, following us all the way to the camp; but afterward I formed another opinion of them. To the camp came many Indians who from all accounts were from a village not very far away. Although they were apparently gentle they were rather impertinent, and they proved themselves to be somewhat thievish, especially in the matter of clothing, to which they were greatly inclined and attracted, manifesting themselves desirous of acquiring and possessing it. They showed themselves to be somewhat crafty and thievish, for as soon as one stolen thing was taken from their hands they stole another, and we did not have eyes enough to watch and care for everything. So we resorted to the expedient of putting them out of the camp and telling them goodbye in a good natured way, but this did not succeed, and one of them even became impudent with the commander, who thus far had shown great patience with them. So, half angry, he took from the Indian a stick which he had in his hands, gave him a light blow with it and then threw the stick far away. Thereupon all departed, talking rapidly and shouting loudly, which I suspected was a matter of threatening.
Some of them came to see us, carrying bows and arrows, for all had very good ones and well made, the bow of good wood, small and wound with tendons like those we saw on the Channel, and the arrows of little reeds, very smooth, well made, and with dints, transparent and very sharp. One came with a scalp hanging from a pole. This did not please me, for it suggested war. The thing which these Indians most coveted was clothing. When they went away something was missed because, in proof that they were stealers of anything that came to hand, we found ourselves without the little chocolate beater and a fillet with which the commander tied the tail of his horse. And so I formed a bad opinion of these Indians. The soldiers purchased four fish somewhat more than a vara long and about a third of a vara wide. At first we did not recognize it, but on opening it, and especially when we ate it, we saw that it was salmon, tenderer, fatter, and more savory than that which we ate at the mission of Carmelo, for perhaps because there is so much fresh water here it grows larger, fatter, and better flavored. Today the long- billed mosquitoes molested us somewhat on the road.
The arroyo of Santa Angela de Fulgino is in a plain of considerable extent, well grown with oaks and other trees. It would not be a bad place for a settlement, as Father Crespi said in his diary, if the arroyo should prove to be permanent, but this does not appear to be the case; for we found it without current and with only some little pools with a small amount of water, and that not very good. This place is distant from the shore of the Puerto Dulce or Agua Dulce somewhat more than a league. The plain in that direction is surrounded by a range of medium-sized hills, and on the opposite side it has a sierra of good height and well grown with trees. This apparently is the same range as that which ends at the mouth of the Puerto Dulce and which afterward we crossed, and of which I spoke on the 8th of March. Just as it is very long it is also very wide, and it encloses some small valleys. One of these is the valley of Santa Coleta, as they called it in the journey of Señor Fages, and through which they traveled when they returned. It is on the other side of the mountain which is seen from this place.
Saturday, April 3 SP -- I said Mass. The day dawned very fair and warm, and it would even have been hot if it had not been for the northwest wind which blew fresh and softly. On the road today the mosquitoes did not molest us, and we noted that all the land over which we traveled was very dry, either because it not rained this year, or because in those lands it rains in the summer, and for this reason the grass was quite dry.
We set out from the arroyo of Santa Angela de Fulgino at a quarter past seven in the morning, and at a quarter to five in the afternoon we halted on the banks of the Agua Dulce at the site of an abandoned village, having traveled some ten long leagues in the directions which I shall now state. -- Ten leagues.
We crossed the plain in which we had camped, and traveled through it some three leagues, for it is that wide in all directions, going toward the northeast. Soon after we started a few Indians from the village of the thieves came out on the road to us. They gave us some cacomites and some strings of a little fruit somewhat larger than an acorn, grayish in color and with a hard little kernel inside. The soldiers told me that it was what they call tascal, but it is larger than that which is raised in Sonora and is very sweet. Not even for this did I like those Indians, because they are thieves and evil-intentioned, as they showed themselves to be yesterday.
We now entered a canyon, and having traveled along it about a league to the northeast we came to the top of the hill indicated on the map by the letter a, end and terminus of the expedition and discovery made by Captain Don Pedro Fages when he went to explore the port of San Francisco, accompanied by the reverend and apostolie father preacher Fray Juan Crespi. From here that captain saw this sea of water which, because of its quietude and because farther back the water is already found to be fresh and good, I call the Puerto Dulce.
I may note that Captain Fages was on this hill in the year 1772, almost at the same time of the year as ourselves, for on the 30th of March they were at the arroyo of Santa Angela de Fulgino whence we set out today, and to which Father Crespi gave this name because that day was the feast of that Saint in our calendar. And so I judge that this water which they called a river must now be in the same condition as when they saw it, for we saw it and explored it in the same season as they. From that hill, which must be about a league from the water, Captain Fages and Father Crespi saw its great extent, and that it was divided into branches forming some little islands of low land. And since previously, on the road farther back, the soldiers had tasted the water and found it fresh, doubtless they concluded that it was some very large river and that here it was divided into three branches which separated farther up, forming two islands, and that a little below this place, on entering the canyon, they again joined, without noticing whether or not there was a current, which would not be easy to determine from that hill because it was distant from the water.
I saw the water divided not into three branches but into many, forming several little islands. Of these I counted as many as seven, some fairly large others small, but all of low land, long and narrow. That I saw so many islands while Captain Fages and Father Crespi saw only two, is doubtless because they saw this lake at high tide while I saw it at low tide, which in this Puerto Dulce rises and falls considerably, as I shall show tomorrow. They saw the level lands through which extends that great mass of water, which are the plains that I mentioned yesterday. Likewise, they must have seen the great Sierra Nevada on the other side of the plain. Finally, they saw that farther up the water turns about to the northeast and even to the east, as far as a low ridge having a grove which hides the water and does not permit it to be seen farther on.
We saw the same ridge and to it the commander decided to go, in order to see the water and its course closer at hand, and to satisfy ourselves whether or not it was a river. For, although we were already nearly convinced that it was not,there was still some room for doubt, because we were far away and could not distinguish its movement, if perchance it had any; and likewise because the soldier Soberanes, who, having made this journey with Señor Fages, came as a man of experience and as a guide, possessed by his first impression persevered in saying that this water was a river and that it was the great river which they saw.
We descended from the hill then and made our way toward that ridge, on which and behind which, about to the southeast, we saw a considerable growth of trees, and noticed that it extended farther on. As soon as we descended to the plain we saw near the water and about a short league away a large herd of the large deer which in New Mexico I think they call buros. They are some seven spans high and have antlers about two varas long, with several branches. But, although efforts were made to capture one it was not possible because of their great speed, especially at this time when they lacked their large antlers, which doubtless they shed at certain seasons, judging from the many which we saw scattered about there.
Here we stopped for some two hours, and the soldiers mounted fresh horses and chased the deer without avail until the mounts were tired out, going as far as the arroyo whence we had started. When they returned they brought the report that they had met more than twenty Indians who came from fishing loaded with four or five salmon each, and that near the camp site whence we set out they found some Indians who came from the sierra to the plain to hunt, carrying the head of a deer, one Indian being painted the same color as the deer. These Indians accompanied our men for a short distance, but as soon as they came near the village of the thieves they would not go with them any further, indicating to them by signs that they were their enemies. All this country greatly abounds in these deer, and judging from the tracks which we encountered this day and the next, which are like those of cattle, it looks for all the world as if there were a very large cattle ranch thereabout.
After the chase we continued through the plain directly toward the Sierra Emboscada, indicated on the map by the letter b, and having traveled some four leagues east by north we came to a good-sized village, whose Indians, who in color and all other respects are like the rest, welcomed us as friends although timidly. The village is situated in the plain a little before the sierra toward which we were going, and so close to the water that from it to the huts it could not have been a dozen steps. We stopped for a while at this village, whose huts were not of grass and dilapidated like those we had seen during this journey, but rather large, round, and well made, like those of the Channel, and made of tule mats with a framework made of slender poles inside, and with doors.
The commander made an effort to please the Indians, giving them glass beads to dispel the fear which they manifested as soon as they saw us, for the women went and hid themselves in their huts and the men remained outside talking rapidly (nothing of which we understood), but unarmed. All of a sudden one of them went and put on the top of the temescal which they had there, a long pole with feathers on the end, and a long strip of rabbit skin with the hair on, which he hung from it like a banner. This we supposed was the sign of peace with which they welcomed us. But meanwhile the children and also some women jumped into the water, embarking on their launches, for they had many very well made of tule, with railings, and with poop and prow ending in an elevated point, and all the rails equipped with arched poles as if they served as a balustrade or as a back, and with some small oars they rowed with great facility and lightness of touch. The Indians reciprocated the gift by offering us feathers, little sticks, and other gewgaws esteemed by them, and even urging us to accept them.
Here we were finally convinced that what was called a river is not a river, but a great sea of fresh water without current, extending through that plain. To it the animals went on their own feet to drink, and we tasted it and found it very fresh and good. I say that here we were convinced that what was called a river is not a river. because if it were it is natural that it would rise at times, and if it did so it is not possible that this village would be maintained so near the water in such level country, for however little the river might rise it would spread out and flood all the plain through which we had come, and consequently destroy the village and its huts.
And it can not be said that this village was recently established there and that its Indians had moved to another place when the river rose; for aside from the fact that the signs showed that it was not a new village but rather old, it must be conceded to be somewhat more than two years old at least. For when Captain Fages came and viewed this water from the hill where he halted, and from which he returned because of some letters which he received, he sent the sergeant with some soldiers to continue the exploration, and they arrived at the same village and found it in the same place where we found it, according to what was said by the soldier who came as guide, not going beyond it or making any other examination. From the village they returned, either because they were satisfied with this reconnoissance, convinced that it was a river, in keeping with the first opinion which they had formed, or because they did not have the spirit to go forward and spend more time, perhapes for lack of provisions to sustain them; for that was the time of great need which they suffered in those parts for lack of supplies. At any rate, this village had been established at least two years, and in two years there was time and to spare for the river to have carried it away in its floods?if it were a river.
We went forward with the intention of ascending to the top of the tree-covered ridge, which is not very high, in order from there better to view the country and the course of the water; but we had scarcely left the village when our path was cut off by a marsh and tule patch which forced us to change our direction. Therefore, turning to the east-southeast, we traveled along the rim of a low ridge and then entered a rather large plain with many oaks, which constituted the grove which we had seen from the hill about to the southeast. Having traveled about a long league we came to a bare hill, not very high, indicated on the map by the letter c.
We climbed to the top of this hill, which commands all the plain, to view the country, and from it we saw a confusion of water, tulares, some trees near the sierra to the south, and a level plain of immeasurable extent. In fact, in all my life I have never seen and I never expect again to see another horizon with so extended a view. If we looked to the east we saw on the other side of the plain at a distance of some thirty leagues a great Sierra Nevada, white from the summit to the skirts, and running diagonally almost from south-southeast to north-northwest. And, according to the part of its course which I was able to sketch, I concluded that perhaps toward the south that range might have some connection with the Sierra Nevada whiich branches off from the Sierra Madre de California above the Puerto de San Carlos; or better, that it is the same Sierra Madre, which runs about northwest as far as the mission of San Gabriel and beyond; and, moreover, I am convinced that this Sierra Nevada is connected with the large range which Father Garcés saw and in his diary calls the Sierra de San Marcos. But we were not able to see either extremity of it.
We turned to the west and saw the hills which we had been passing on the road, through which ran or extended the assembled waters; and we saw that on the other side of the water there opened a low range of hills whose terminus, seen at a distance of some fifteen leagues, lay about to the northwest, and that from there forward nothing was to be seen but the plain.
We looked to the south and saw a high sierra, bald on the outside, and running about southeast and northwest. This is the range of which I spoke on the 8th of March, and which we had on our right during all our outward journey from the neighborhood of the mission of San Luís until we reached the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, where it ends, and on whose skirts are the valley of Santa Delfina, through which runs the Rio de Monterey, the valley of San Bernardino, and others, including the Llano de los Robles, which runs toward the mouth of the port of San Francisco. A soldier said and was certain that he recognized a peak which was visible at the end of what we could see of this sierra toward the southeast. He said that it was not very far from a place called Buenavista, which the soldiers explored when they went to the tulares which lie near the mission of San Luís in pursuit of some deserters, and that if we should direct our way toward it we would come out in the vicinity of the mission of San Luís or of San Antonio .
We again looked toward the north, and between the low range to the northwest and the Sierra Nevada we saw an immense plain which on that side apparently ran in the same direction as the Sierra Nevada; but on the other side it opened about to the west, with such a sweep that it embraced almost the entire semicircle of the horizon. This is the plain through which the sea of fresh water extends, not continuously but in places leaving great areas uncovered or with little water, forming those great green tulares that begin near the mission of San Luís. According to their direction and to this account they must be more than a hundred leagues long to this place, not counting the distance which they may extend above, for we were unable to see their terminus, and in width they must be some twenty-five or thirty leagues. I surmised that these tulares must run to the vicinity of the port of Bodega, and that the green field which Captain Don Juan de la Quadra saw to the east of his port must have been tulares like these which we saw here, or that they might even have been the same ones, extending as far as that place.
Here occurred a discussion with the soldiers who came as guides, for they wished to maintain that what we were looking at was a river, to which I could not give assent. To prove their point they alleged that on the other side there was a very large river which flowed through some openings in the Sierra Nevada into this plain; that when they went to seek the deserters the soldiers had found this river divided into two branches, and that with difficulty were they able to ford the first branch but by no means the second; nor did the Indians whom they saw there wish to take them over, so they returned from there to San Luís.
This river, according to all signs, is the one encountered by Father Garcés and called by him in his diary the Rio de San Phelipe. I had already heard of that river through a letter written to me by a friar of San Fernando who had been minister at the mission of San Luís, a copy of which I will insert here for the notices of those lands which it contains, although somewhat confused because the father knew of them only from hearsay, in particular those concerning the three rivers which he mentions; for he considers as a river the water of the long channel above the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, and as two other rivers the two branches of this Rio de San Phelipe. The letter, dated January 30, 1775, is from Father Fray Domingo Juncosa, and reads as follows:
For the benefit of Señor Don Juan Bautista de Ansa, who tells me that he is going to that province of Sonora with orders to go with your Reverence to our missions of Monterey and the port of San Francisco, I decided, in view of so good an opportunity, to write your Reverence this letter, giving you notice, etc.
I have understood that Captain Don Juan Bautista de Ansa has the plan and intention of setting out from those lands of Sonora for those others in the month of September, to come out at San Francisco without touching at the missions or at Monterey until he returns from the settlement which he is to make at San Francisco and from the exploration of those lands. This, if they attempt it in the way stated, from the experience and the reports which I have of those regions, I consider as more than an ordinary risk, and I fear that they may find themselves very badly disappointed. For, since the rains in those countries last from November or December until April, it will be necessary, in case they reach San Francisco before the rains, or at their beginning, for them to spend the time until April suffering those rains in the open, without being able, however much afterward they may wish it, to go to Monterey, except perhaps a few of them and in light order of marching, and with great difficulty, because of the many quagmires of the country which make it impossible to travel, particularly for pack trains, as I have experienced; for even two or three going light have found themselves in no small difficulty to get through, especially if the rains are at all heavy. And in case they wish to be and remain at San Francisco, without going down to Monterey, on account of the rains they will be unable to do anything with regard to the founding, or very little at most. For they will not be able to make use of the animals for carrying the timber which may be necessary for the buildings, but will have to make use in such case of the people themselves to carry things on their backs, at the risk of good big mud holes, except for a few days which generally intervene between rains, when perhaps the people might accomplish something in the way described. But it is very doubtful whether they can use the animals because of the mires, as I have stated.
More than this, if they go straight from the Colorado River to San Francisco, they run another risk not at all inconsiderable. This is that without doubt they will come out at the last and innermost part of the estuary of San Francisco, where it is entered by the three rivers or branches which, united in one near the estuary (this is the confused notion of the river which they imagined divided into three branches), go to empty into it. Of these rivers one runs from the east, and the others from the north or nearly so. Therefore it is possible and almost certain that they will strike the middle one, or between the rivers coming from the east and north. But these streams are not fordable, especially the one from the north, according to a report given by some deserters from Monterey who went and encountered it at a great distance, and more than forty leagues from the estuary into which they empty, where they were not able to ford it and the heathen were unwilling to take them over on their rafts. For the other river, which comes from the east, a ford has been found only some forty or fifty leagues from its mouth. Therefore, as I have said, in case you gentlemen strike the middle one, you will have to go back at least the forty or fifty leagues in order to be able to ford it and emerge from that labyrinth.
On account of these risks it appears to me that the best thing to do would be to go from the Colorado to strike one of the missions, and if you wish to go to that os San Luís, which is 35° 28', you will have a good road by taking a sort of a canyon or valley which runs nearly from east to west all the way from our mission os San Gabriel, or near there, to San Francisco. (By this road Captain Fages traveled once when he went from San Diego to San Luís, not wishing to touch at San Gabriel because at that time he was angry at Father Paterna; but we learned that it is a bad road and very rough. ) lt is distant from the missions some three or four days travel toward the interior, and of it perhaps some notice was given to Señor Ansa by the soldiers who went with him from Monterey to the Colorado River when he returned to Sonora. In case you follow that valley and wish to come out at San Luís, before you reach the latitude named of 35° 28' the Indians will already have told you where that mission is, and perhaps you will find the traces of the animals from the various times the soldiers have crossed from that valley to San Luís when they have gone in search of some deserters who were among the immense tulares which are about on the parallel of San Luís.
By coming out at the missions, then, you have the advantage that in case of not being able to continue, through being caught in the rains either at any one of them or at Monterey, you will at least have shelter and better opportunity for being succored. And if, after having explored San Francisco and effected the foundations and the rest which you may have to do, you wish to open or seek a direct route from the Colorado River to San Francisco, or vice versa, you can return from San Francisco directly to the Colorado River without touching at the missions.
Father Juncosa then continues, asking me to see if I can bring it about that some sheep and goats and horses may be brought for the mission of San Luis which has none, conferring this favor on his fellow countryman and mine, Father Joseph Caballer, minister of that mission and a Catalán. And he conludes by complaining of the little effort which his College of San Fernando has made to solicit these things from the viceroy, because the fathers, being comfortable in Mexico, neither feel nor realize the need suffered by those poor friars, etc.
From the notices contained in this letter, then, I did not doubt that on the other side of the Sierra Nevada there must be some river or rivers; but I did not agree to what the soldiers asserted, for I did not see the river which they told about, nor in all the sierra was there to be seen any opening by which it might come out to the plain which we had before us. And so they supported their position with a mere conjecture, and yet with this they tried to maintain and to convince us that the water which we had before us was the Rio Grande de San Francisco. Since I denied that there was any such river or at least that we had seen it, the commander said:
Father, is it not enough that these gentlemen say that they have seen the river which they say comes out to these plains?
I replied to him: "Señor, it is not enough, because the gentlemen saw the river which they tell of very far from here, and from this hill no such river is to be seen, nor the opening through which they say it emerges. Here we must not be guided by conjectures, or by what might be true, but by what is, and what we see. And what we see and have before us is not a river, but much water in a pond." With this the dispute and my discourse ended.
Having seen all this, the commander decided to go to camp on the shores of the water, intending to go forward a few days, cross the plain and approach the Sierra Nevada, in order to continue this exploration in that direction as far as possible, either until the provisions carried should be exhausted or to the farthest place from which we should be able to return. Therefore, descending from the hill, we traveled about a league through the plain to the northeast, but before reaching the water we encountered a tule marsh and a mire which cut off our passage. Therefore we changed our direction, and traveling about a quarter of a league to the west we reached the shore of the water and the site of an abandoned village.
As soon as we halted we went to see the water and to taste it, finding it very clear, fresh, sweet, and good; and to it the animals went without any difficulty to drink. We saw that it had a slight movement caused by the wind, and that it beat upon the shore or beach with gentle waves, but we did not see any current whatever. In order to find out whether or not it had any, the commander took a fair-sized 1og which ended in a knob and threw it in the water with all the force he could muster. In a short time we saw that instead of its floating downstream, the water with its little waves returned it to the shore, and I may note that, according to what we saw afterward, the tide was falling at this time. On the beach there was no driftwood from the floods nor any débris except a little dry tule. About an hour passed and we returned to see the water, and we noted that a good strip of beach had become uncovered and that the water had fallen about two feet, judging from the uncovered trunks of some trees on the shore which formerly we had seen submerged. From this we inferred that the water had its ebb and flow like the sea, and that at this time the tide was falling. Therefore the lieutenant was charged that, aided by a servant, in the course of the night he should take care to observe when the tide was lowest, measure all the sand or beach that might be uncovered, and afterward observe how far it rose during high tide. This was done that night and next morning, as I shall relate.
As a conclusion of this day I wish to make here some reflections concerning the information sent to Mexico by the Reverend Father Fray Silvestre Vélez de Escalante, minister of the mission of Zuñi, acquired during the journey which he made in the past year of 1775 from New Mexico to the province of Moqui, and which the viceroy sent to Father Garcés, as I said on December 1. We received the letter on the way on May 20, without the copy of the notices, because it had become mislaid in the secretariat of his Excellency at the time of sending the letter For this reason they were delayed one mail, but afterward they came directed by the secretary, Don Melchor de Peramés, to the governor of these provinces, Don Francisco Antonio Crespo, asking him to send them as soon as possible to Father Garcés, his Excellency not knowing about this carelessness which had occurred in the secretariat. Through this accident I had an opportunity to learn of these notices and to read the copy of them at San Miguel in the house of the governor the very day when I arrived there on my return from this journey.
This father says that he reached Oraybe, the last pueblo of Moqui, and some fifty leagues west of the pueblo of Zuñi, which is in New Mexico; and that there a Cosnina Indian informed and told him that six days to the west of Oraybe, over bad road, was the land inhabited by the Cosninas. He said that at nine days from Oraybe and more than a hundred leagues distant there is a very high sierra which runs from northeast to southwest, inclining to the west; along its northern skirts the Rio Grande de los Misterios runs to the west and is impassable to the Cosninas and their neighbors, and in consequence the Cosninas do not know what people live on the other side of the river, or even whether there are any or not, for indeed they never cross over nor have they seen any indications of people. He says, moreover, that nine days west of the Cosninas, on this side of the sierra, there is a nation which speaks the same language and is called Tomascabas, and that fourteen days from these people there are others called Chirumas, who are warlike, thievish, and savage, for they eat the flesh of the human beings whom they kill in their wars; and that from these Chirumas the Cosninas have learned that there are Spaniards in that direction, although distant, etc. He concludes by saying that this which the Cosnina reported was the same as what the Moquinos had already told him.
First, we must suppose that Father Fray Silvestre got his information from the Cosnina by means of signs, the way in which the Indians usually express themselves, or by means of some interpreter, and perhaps a poor one, as they usually are, unless the father knows the languages of that region. If he made use of some interpreter or resorted to signs to understand the Cosnina, he might easily make some error in the report, for many times it happens that when a person thinks he has expressed himself clearly to the Indians by these means, he discovers afterward that they did not understand him, or even that they understood just the opposite of what he said.
On this assumption, and leaving aside the distances and directions which the father gives with respect to the tribes which he names, although I find not a little difficulty in harmonizing them with respect to the high sierra which he says runs from the southwest to northwest, what I find more puzzling is what he says regarding the river which he calls the Rio de los Misterios, not so much on account of its name, which to me is quite new, as because of the great size which he ascribes to it, and because it is impassable to the Cosninas.
The father says that this Rio de los Misterios runs to the west. Now, it is natural that if it is so large it must empty into the sea, and if this be the case it is natural that we shoud have crossed it, for we reached the latitude of 38°, which must be as high as the place where it would reach the coast of the sea which we followed. For it appears to me that this latitude, and even a lower one, corresponds to the course of the river given by the father, considering the place where he heard the report. But in all this journey we have not crossed any river except the Rio Colorado, which is not impassable even when it is very high, as we experienced, and is even fordable when it is in its natural course. Nor can it be said that the Rio de los Misterios is the same as the Colorado River, and that higher up its name changes, for this stream, even at the junction of the two rivers and below the Puerto de la Concepción, is not so large as to be impassable, for the Indians, both men and women, swim across it. And it is natural that higher up it would be still smaller; but even though it might be as large it is not easy to believe that the cosninas and their neighbors are inferior to the Yumas, and afraid to cross the river, however large it may be, especially having been born on its banks. Indeed, we see that Indians who are raised on the banks of any large river, like the Yaquis and the Yumas, and even those of the seacoast, are all great swimmers. Hence I infer that perhaps they told Father Fray Silvestre that on the other side of the sierra there was much water, and since they told him that it was fresh water, without specifying whether it ran or not, the father concluded that it was a river, since its waters were not salt, and they did not tell him that there was a sea there.
In view of all this, I conclude that perhaps the Rio Grande de los Misterios which the father tells about and of which they told him, must be some very large lake of fresh water lying in the direction of the tulares which we saw, or that they are these same tulares and water which extend through the immense plain which I have described. And this plain must run inland as far as the other side of the Sierra Nevada by some opening or openings, and it may have vast extent from east to west just as it has from north to south, unless it may be some matter of the Sea of the West as they call it. This being the case, it is easy to believe that it may be impassable to the Cosninas, for indeed it is very different, and one might almost say impossible, to pass from one to the other. Consequently the Cosninas would not know whether there are people on the other side or not, although there might be; while, vice versa, those on the other side would not know that there are Cosninas.
From all the foregoing, I conclude by saying that it appears to me that it would be very difficult to open a direct road from New Mexico to Monterey, as has been attempted, for, besides the report given by Father Fray Silvestre of the river or lake of fresh water that lies between, at least there are the tulares lying in the path of those who may come to open the road before they arrive at the seacoast. And however directly the road may be sought, at least it will come out in the neighborhood of the mission of San Luís or below it, according to my opinion, salvo meliori judicio.
April 4. Holy Thursday SP -- Day dawned right fair, but with a very strong northwest wind which began about midnight and continued all day until sunset, greatly molesting us. Before midnight the lieutenant went to observe the water and found that it had so receded that, from the measurement which he made, we estimated that some sixteen varas of beach, which here was very wide, had been uncovered. Before dawn the servant went and saw that the water had risen so high that it raised the dry tule which it had east on the shore. At sunrise the commander and I went, and we saw that the tide was already beginning to fall, and that with the northwest wind, which blew very hard today, the water showed some disturbance, and was becoming white with little waves, as happens on the sea with the breezes, as they call them, and that the waves of the beach were rather large. With an instrument I took the level of the water (for I carried a level for whatever occasion might arise), and concluded that between high and low tide, judging from the beach uncovered, it had fallen some three varas. I may note, too, that here the water was confined in a narrow channel of about the same width as at the mouth, more or less. The beach did not have cliffs here as in other places, but was very wide, and on it we saw some little shells, almost flat, and translucent like mother of pearl but thin and in fragments.
The method by which I took the level of the water was as follows: I measured two varas of beach from the highest place on it reached by the water at high tide, and, taking the level at this place, it gave me at the other side of this stretch a fall of a span and a fourth. Therefore, comparing this area with the sixteen varas of smooth beach which were uncovered at low tide, I computed by the triangle that the water had fallen some three varas, which is a very considerable fall.
From all the foregoing, and from these experiments, we concluded and were finally convinced that this mass of water might better be called a fresh water sea than a river, for it has no floods or currents like a river, and like the sea its water is clear and verging on blue, and it has an ebb and flow and little waves on the beach. Finally, if after all this someone wishes to say that it might be called a river since the water is fresh, merely because it has some movement with the ebb and flow, then with the same reason we might call the sea a river.
Although now, from all that has been said, we were certain that hereabout there was no large river, as had been asserted, or even a small one, for in all the road we had encountered nothing but arroyos, nevertheless the commander remained firm in the decision which he made yesterday to follow the course of the water, cross the plain, and continue this exploration for several days toward the Sierra Nevada. Therefore, we set out from the site of the abandoned village at a quarter past seven in the morning, and at half past five in the afternoon halted at some hills at the beginning of the sierra which I shall mention later, having traveled some fifteen long leagues in a direction so changed that it was quite contrary to our first intention, as I shall proceed to say. -- Fifteen leagues.
We traveled a short distance to the east, intending to follow the water, either along its banks, or in sight of it. But very soon our way was cut off by the tulares and mires, which forced us to change our direction, and separated us from the water so far that we did not see it again except from a distance and from the top of the sierra. We turned to the east-southeast and traveled this way some three leagues, having on our right a grove of oaks which runs for about six leagues along the foot of the sierra to the south. With the intention of seeing if the tulares would afford us a free passage we turned northeast and traveled this way for about another league, but shortly the tulares prevented us from continuing in that direction. Then we began to wind about, now to the southeast and now to the east-southeast, now to the south, and finally to the south-southeast, without being able to make any headway toward the Sierra Nevada, but rather getting farther away from it.
We saw some of the many and well beaten trails which the large deer make through that plain when they go down to the water, and we followed them, but very soon we found ourselves bogged down and forced to go back. Once we came to a path with the tracks of a man, which seemed to lead toward a small village which we saw within the tules. But, although an effort was made to follow it, we soon came to a mire through which the animals could not pass, and even on foot one would have trouble in crossing it. In the first bad place two soldiers went on foot, and their animals traveled with some difficulty. Since we so greatly desired to follow this trail, the commander said that we would pursue it as far as possible, even though it should be on foot. So he ordered a soldier to go ahead and see if there was any other bad place farther on. He had gone but a short distance when we saw that he had not only halted, but that suddenly he fell, and likewise the mule on which he was riding. We now realized the difficulty and saw that it was impossible to penetrate the tule marsh. The soldiers here told us that it was so dangerous to travel in the tulares that when they went to catch the deserters among them, one deserter who saw himself about to be captured, in order to get away jumped precipitately into one of those mires, trusting perhaps that he might be able to swim, but was swallowed up and unable to get out, and as it was impossible to aid him, he remained there drowned and buried in the mud.
And so we traveled more than three leagues, which in general may be estimated as to the southeast, going with some difficulty in the midst of the tulares, which for a good stretch were dry, soft, mellow ground, covered with dry slime and with a dust which the wind raised from the ashes of the burned tule, so biting that it made our eyes smart severely and caused tears to flow so that we could hardly see. And thus we had a very hard day, and we got out of there with our eyes red and smarting sharply.
We now saw that the mass of fresh water which extends through those tulares has its floods, and that when it rises it extends far beyond the land we were traversing, which was full of shells of snails and turtles and of silt produced by the water when it extends through there. And that this water should rise it is not difficult to believe. Indeed, it is natural that this should be the case, for, being in sight of the Sierra Nevada, it is natural that various rivers should flow from it and that they should be lost and disappear in those plains, and that thereby this fresh-water sea should get larger (for, being fresh, it may be conceded as an exception to the rule, or if not it might be called a lake), either in winter with the rains and the floods of the rivers or in the summer with the melting of the snows.
We now saw that it was impossible to cross the plain or to approach the Sierra Nevada, and I said to the commander that if he approved it would be better for us to return to Monterey, since the tulares at each step took us farther from the sierra, for it was seen that what was called a river had become to us a lake. Nevertheless, the commander wished to continue a little further in the attempt, to see if farther down we might find higher land which would afford us a passage. And so we traveled some three leagues more, going a little to the south but most of the way to the east and east-southeast.
It was about two o'clock in the afternoon when Corporal Robles, who went ahead as a guide, halted, as if wondering which way to go and where to guide us, and the commander asked him,
How does it look to you? Are there any hopes that we shall be able to reach the sierra today or tomorrow?
Señor, I do not know, the corporal replied. "What I do know is that once upon a time I set out for the point of that sierra (it was the one which yesterday when looking south from the hill we saw running from southeast to northwest) and it took me a day and a half to go around a tule marsh, and I saw that it still ran forward, and on the other side, also, but I did not reach the end of it; nor did I see any more, because from there I turned back." Thereupon I said:
From all accounts it is clear that these tulares are the same as those near the mission of San Luís, and that they continue clear to there. In order to get around them it is necessary to go down to the neighborhood of that mission, and this is also necessary to go to the Sierra Nevada, which, therefore, can be better explored by starting from that mission of San Luís. More than that, Señor, we shall make no progress toward the purpose of our reconnaissance by struggling to go to explore the Sierra Nevada. We are now certain that the river which we came to seek is a lake, and the most we might do is to investigate whether any rivers enter it from the Sierra Nevada, a matter which it is not very important to know for our present purpose. It is natural that this should be the case, but to verify it more time is necessary than we planned. Meanwhile the day is passing, and tonight we shall be stranded in these plains without water, without firewood, and without grass, unless before it is too late we turn to the sierra to seek a camp site. Here, we are without grass or firewood because there is none, and without water because the marshes and the vast mires of the tulares prevent us from reaching it.
Seeing how difficult it would be for us to approach the Sierra Nevada, as he had planned, the commander now decided that we should return to Monterey. But for this the soldiers said that it was necessary to return to the camp whence we had set out, and from there retrace the road by which we had come, because through here they did not know any road, nor had the Spaniards ever traveled through these regions. To the commander and me this seemed too bad. I said that according to the direction which we had traveled Monterey must he south of us, and that if we had the courage to cross the sierra in front of us (the one which I have spoken of several times and the same as that which I mentioned on the 8th of March), I made bold to assure them that by going in that direction we would come out at the valley of San Bernardino, or if not there, then at the valley of Santa Delfina.
So, changing our direction, we traveled toward the sierra, and having gone about a league to the south we came to some bare hills which, because they were mined by ground squirrels we called the Lomas de las Tuzas. From the top of them we saw at our right a spacious valley formed by the hills which we were crossing and those which on going to the mouth of Puerto Dulce we had on our right. This is the valley through which Captain Fages went out from the arroyo of Santa Angela de Fulgino when he returned, and which he called Santa Coleta. In the distance we saw before us the Sierra de Pinabetes, which runs toward the port of San Francisco and ends at the Punta de Almejas. Therefore, having examined the country and seen that we were coming out well, we descended from the top of the hills. We continued through them for about two leagues to the southwest and entered other hills, which are the beginning of the sierra which we afterward crossed, as I shall relate tomorrow; and having traveled through them some two leagues to the south-southwest we halted on a small elevation near a cañada in which a little water was found.
In all the journey today we did not see a single Indian, finding only human tracks stamped in the dry mud. It appeared to me that the country is so bad that it could not easily be inhabited by human beings. At least I was left with no desire to return to travel through it, for besides the smarting of the eyes which I brought from there, and the fever in my mouth which I had corrected but which today returned to assail me, I have never seen an uglier country. 'Tis true, the prospect seen at a distance from a height appears to be somewhat wonderful, with the level country, the vast reach of the eye, and a horizon so expansive that, the sky touching the earth, objects disappear in the distance and one can not distinguish whether beyond it is land or water. Yet in reality it is an arid, salty land, all water and mud flats, without anything which pleased me or appeared to me to be valuable except the large deer which apparently have their haunts there.
April 5, Good Friday SP -- Morning dawned very clear and serene, without any wind, but with some heat which we felt in the course of the day. We set out from the hills at the beginning of the sierra at a quarter to seven in the morning, and at four in the afternoon we halted in the valley of San Vicente, a little before reaching the end of it, having traveled some thirteen leagues over bad and very broken road, the direction being generally to the south, although varied, as I shall now show. -- Thirteen leagues.
We traveled some three leagues southeast to a valley which we saw, but it became so narrow that it prevented us from continuing thus. Therefore, it was necessary to climb to the top of the sierra, and so we traveled about a league to the north, east, and south, and in all directions, and every which way, until we reached the summit. Here we halted for a while to seek a way out, and from this height, which was great, and is indicated on the map by the letter d, we clearly saw the plains, the water, and the tulares through which we came yesterday. And we saw that they continued down below toward the mission of San Luís, through a very wide and level opening like a valley, enclosed on this side by the sierra which we had begun to cross and on the other side by the Sierra Nevada, which looked to be very far away and like wise continued to run down toward the mission of San Gabriel. Therefore I was confirmed in the opinion which I had already formed and which I noted yesterday and day before yesterday.
We descended from the top of the sierra and traveled about two leagues to the south, with numerous turns to the southeast because of the roughness of the hills and the slopes, and came to an arroyo in a canyon. We followed the canyon for about two leagues to the south-southeast, when, on reaching the top of the pass which it formed, we had before us extended and very rough ranges, and all the distance traversed and all that was seen on all sides, thickly grown with oaks, pines, and brush. We continued about a league to the south, with many turns going down the slope, and then the country began to open out so that we had before us a rather wide and very long valley, and having traveled through it some four leagues to the south and south-southwest, a little before it ended we halted at an arroyo with very little water.
At the beginning of this valley, which the soldiers called the Canada de San Vicente, and which is indicated on the map by the letter e, we saw some sierras or hills which attracted the attention of all of us because of their appearance; for while the others are very thickly covered with brush and trees, these have no trees but only a very open, scrubby growth, so that on the ridges and at intervals there are seen some strips and pieces of very white gravel. And that range, along whose base flows an arroyo, not to mention several small ones that run through the valley, is red in color. For this reason all said that it had excellent signs of minerals, and to me it appeared very much like the sierras of the mines of Guanajuato. This valley is in the center of the very broken range which we were crossing. In the course of the valley we saw some ruinous and abandoned little huts, but the only Indian seen was at a distance and running, for as soon as he saw us he fled for the brush of the sierra like a deer.
All this country which we crossed this day and the next is very broken, and is the haunt of many bears, judging from the tracks which we saw. Although seen from the outside this range appears to be bare on all sides and without trees, yet in the center it is very tangled and full of brush, pines, live oaks, oaks, spruce, and other trees. Among them there is a plant like a fig tree, but with smaller leaves, and though on the outside its fruit is like figs, on the inside it is somewhat like a chestnut, more like it in the shell and the color than in the form. The heathen eat it, judging from the piles of its shells which we saw in the abandoned huts. These doubtless must be the chestnuts which in Monterey they told us were found on the road to the port of San Francisco. They had formed this opinion because they had seen some of these shucks; but they made a mistake, because they are not chestnut shucks, for I examined them carefully, nor are there any chestnuts in any place that I saw. The soldiers also said that going from Monterey to San Francisco along the coast, which is the road taken by Señor Portolá on the first expedition, they found many hazelnuts before reaching the Punta de Almejas, which they at that time gave this name because the soldiers stopped there to gather mussels for food, for they now had nothing to eat. But I did not see the hazelnuts, if indeed there are any, because we did not go by that road.
April 6, Holy Saturday SP -- The night was very cold and it froze a little, doubtless because we found ourselves in the middle of the sierra. Morning dawned very fair and somewhat cold, but the cold did not last long, for we experienced considerable heat later in the course of the day. We set out from the valley of San Vicente at a quarter to seven in the morning, and at four in the afternoon halted on a small elevation near the Arroyo del Coyote, which we had followed all the way from its source, having traveled some ten leagues over worse and more broken road than yesterday, the principal direction being to the south, although with some variation. -- Ten leagues.
As soon as we started we found ourselves in the midst of a broken sierra on all sides, and with a narrow and very deep canyon ahead of us. We descended through it and soon found a little water, which is the beginning of the Arroyo del Coyote. We followed it for about three leagues to the south-southeast, some two to the south-southwest, two more to the south-southeast, winding around in order to climb some hills and descending again to the canyon, and finally some three to the south and south-southeast, ascending and descending the sides of the canyon and its very broken hills. In all the journey we did not see a single Indian, although we found some tracks of them, and in places a few signs and traces of ruined huts and small villages; for it is known that at times they go to the sierra and camp, especially during the seasons of the piñon and the acorn.
We were now about to emerge from the sierra, but we halted because the animals were very tired, and we also, after so bad and so rough a road. In the course of this journey, since the time when we went to the mouth of the Puerto Dulce, the ticks, which are small and almost black, had stuck to us, but today they had been worse than ever, so that we were now covered with them. Indeed, in a short time I picked fourteen off myself.
April 7, Easter Sunday SP -- I said Mass. Day dawned very serene and without cold, but rather with considerable heat, which we felt in the course of the day. We set out from the little elevation at a quarter past seven in the morning, and at a quarter past five in the afternoon halted on the banks of the Monterey River, having traveled some fifteen leagues. The first two were to the south, descending through some hills, whereby we emerged from the sierra and went down to the plain of the valley of San Bernardino, which is composed of marshes and lagoons for the most part, but since it had not rained much this year it was quite dry and we were able to cross it without difficulty. When we had finished our descent some ten or twelve Indians came out on the road to salute us, from a village which was near there on the banks of a lagoon. They gave us amole and two fish from the lagoon. They were matalote, of which I have spoken several times. They are the same as those found in the Gila and Colorado rivers, and according to their shape, taste, and bones they appear to me to be the fish which in Spain they call saboga. In return for them the commander gave the Indians some glass beads.
We now entered the valley of San Bernardino, crossing it toward the south-southwest and south-southeast. Having traveled through it some three leagues, on entering some low hills where there is a little well of water, near the Pájaro River, we came to our outgoing road, along which we traveled reversing the direction taken on going to the port of San Francisco. From this camp we heard the sound of the sea, distant some two leagues, for since it is level land all the way to the beach it can easily be heard in the silence of the night -- Fifteen leagues.
Monday, April 8 SP -- I said Mass. Day dawned fair and quite hot. We set out from the Monterey River at a quarter to seven, and at four in the afternoon arrived at the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo, having traveled five leagues in directions opposite to those on going, four to the presidio of Monterey where we stopped for dinner, and one to the mission. We arrived at the presidio at ten o'clock in the morning.
Soon the people brought by the expedition came to welcome us, well pleased with the reports which we gave them of our journey, especially of the beautiful site at the port of San Francisco which we had examined and had selected for the settlement and the presidio. They had been very discontented, because they had been told that, according to the report of Señor Ribera, all that port was a very bad country, but now they were consoled somewhat by what we told them. The lieutenant remaining at the presidio, in the afternoon we went to the mission, accompanied by the commissary, who had come to welcome us. Before reaching the mission we met four fathers who came out on the road to greet us, and together we arrived at the mission, where they welcomed us joyfully with many peals of bells. On the way we ate some strawberries, of which there are many on that road across the Sierra de Pinos.
Tuesday, April 9 SP -- I said Mass. We remained at the mission resting and talking with the fathers about our journey. They were greatly surprised by the report which we gave them, to the effect that there was no such Rio de San Francisco as they had been told of; and as they were biased in its favor we had our friendly arguments over the subject. In the afternoon the commander went with the fathers to walk on the beach, but I did not go because I was not well.
Wednesday, April 10 SP -- I busied myself by drawing a map of this journey which we made from Monterey to San Francisco and the Puerto Dulce, although I did not draw it very well, not being skilled at it, and because of the inconvenience under which I worked. Today there was a great shoal of small sardines on the beach, and they said that they were so abundant that they made the ground black on the edge of the water. The commander went there in the afternoon with the fathers to walk and to see this wonder, but I did not go because I still felt ill from the burning in my mouth. During these days we had very large, tender, and fine lettuce in abundance, with which I improved somewhat.
Thursday, April 11 SP -- I said Mass. In the morning my mouth felt somewhat better. We continued to remain at the mission without anything happening. Seeing the map which I made yesterday the reverend father president asked me to make one for him, and then Señor Anza asked me to make still another one for him; so I was occupied in this work all day today, finishing the one which I made for the father president.
Friday, April 12 SP -- I continued to improve. Before noon I finished the map for Señor Anza, and it turned out better than the two preceding ones, but not yet with all perfection, because of the inconvenience under which I worked. This sketch, drawn more to my satisfaction, is the plan or map which I insert here. It represents the entire journey which we made from Monterey to San Francisco and back, the route being indicated by dots.
Señor Anza, seeing that Señor Ribera had not replied to the message which he dispatched to him on the 17th of March, as he requested him to do, and the time which he had indicated that he would wait for the reply having passed, decided to begin the return journey, not planning now to conduct the people to San Francisco, as he had promised to do in case Señor Ribera should reply agreeing to this plan. Therefore it was decided that we should go in the morning to Monterey and from there return to Sonora. Commander Anza also dispatched a message by Sergeant Góngora of Monterey to Commander Ribera, informing him of his decision to return, so that if he wished to talk with him he might come from San Diego to the mission of San Gabriel, according to the agreement made by them just before we set out from San Diego. The fathers were so generous that they put up many vegetables for us for the journey, such as cauliflower, lettuce, and tender beans, and also a great quantity of dried salmon. But I never tasted of any, nor did I see it again, because Señor Anza kept it all in order to use it for his own satisfaction.
Saturday, April 13 SP -- I said Mass. Afterward with great tenderness we said goodbye to the fathers there. Then, at nine o'clock in the morning, we set out from the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo, and at ten o'clock arrived at the presidio of Monterey, having traveled one league -- One league.
We remained here in order that the affairs of the expedition might be arranged, Lieutenant Moraga being entrusted with everything in the absence of Captain Ribera, who was at San Diego. Before beginning the journey I several times asked Señor Anza to tell me the exact number of people of this expedition, and the number of horses, mules, and cattle, but I was never able to get him to tell me. He excused himself by saying that he did not have the data in his notes, etc., but I suspect that he did not wish me to know, in order not to run the risk that he might say one thing and I another if perchance afterward on adjusting his accounts he should find it necessary to change some figure in order to cover some shortage. For this reason, when in San Miguel, at my request he gave me indefinitely some items. Among them he mentioned twenty muleteers, and afterward, at Tubac, when there should have been more because all the people had assembled, he told me that there were fifteen. In other items, such as the interpreters and servants, I noticed that he counted two for one. Therefore, although at the beginning of this diary I put down the numbers of everything, and it appears to me they are correct, for in case there may be some shortage or excess the error must be very slight, yet I may note that I set them down according to what I saw and learned in the course of the journey, and not because Señor Anza told me; for whenever I asked for information his manner was arbitrary, cocksure, and certain.
Today I again requested that he at least permit me to know the number of persons who had come with the expedition and were remaining at Monterey for the new settlement and fort of the harbor of San Francisco. For although it was only a matter of my curiosity, and I did not really need to know, yet I desired to know, perhaps because I had come with them all. And so he permitted me to see the list, which was not complete, for it lacked a few, including the prisoners who remained at the mission of San Gabriel. But from it I learned that there were remaining at Monterey one hundred and ninety-three souls, whose names are included in the following list which I myself faithfully copied on the spot.
BASIS FOR A LIST OF THE OFFICER, SERGEANT, SOLDIERS AND SETTLERS, WITH THEIR RESPECTIVE FAMILIES, WHO, BY ORDER OF HIS EXCELLENCY THE VICEROY, HAVE BEEN CONDUCTED BY DON JUAN BAUTISTA DE ANZA, LIEUTENANT COLONEL OF CAVALRY AND CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL PRESIDIO OF TUBAC, IN THE PROVINCE OF SONORA, TO THE PRESIDIO OF MONTEREY IN CALIFORNIA SEPTENTRIONAL, TO BE DELIVERED TO ITS COMMANDER, DON FERNANDO DE RIBERA Y MONCADA.
SOLDIERS OF THE PRESIDIOLieutenant Don Joseph Joachín Moraga. He came without his wife and family, which he left at Terrenate, where he lived, because his wife was ill.1.Sergeant Juan Pablo Grijalva; María Dolores Valencia, his wife. Children: María Josepha, María del Carmen, Claudio.5.Domingo Alviso; María Angela Chumasero, his wife. Children: Francisco, Xavier, Juan Ygnacio, María Loreto.-6Valerio Mesa; María Leonor Borboa, his wife. Children: Joseph Joachín, Joseph Ygnacio, Joseph Dolores, Joseph Antonio, Juan, María Manuela.-8Ramón Bojórques; María Francisca Romero, his wife. Children: María Gertrudis, María Michaela.-4Carlos Gallegos; María Josepha Espinosa, his wife. ?2.Juan Antonio Amézquita; Juana Gaona, his wife. Children: Salvador Manuel, María Josepha, María Dolores, María Matilde, María de los Reyes, Rosalia Samora, wife of Salvador Manuel-8.Ygnacio Linares; Gertrudis Rivas, his wife. Children: Joseph Ramón, Salvador Ygnacio, María Gertrudis, María Juliana.-6Justo Roberto; María Loreto Delfín, his wife. Children: Joseph Antonio, Joseph Mathías.-4Gabriel Peralta; Francisca Manuela Valenzuela, his wife. Children: Juan Joseph, Luís María, Pedro, Gertrudis.-6
SOLDIER RECRUITSJuan Athanasio Vázquez; Gertrudis Gastelo, his wife. Children: Joseph Tiburcio, Joseph Antonio, Pedro Joseph, María Antonia Bojórques, wife of Joseph Tiburcio.-6.Joseph Antonio García; Petronila Josepha, his wife. Children: Joseph Vincent, Joseph Francisco, Juan Guillermo, María Graciana, María Josepha. ?7.Antonio Quiterio Aceves; María Feliciana Cortés, his wife. Children: Joseph Cipriano, Juan Gregorio, Juan Pablo, Joseph Antonio, María Petra, María Gertrudis.8.Phelipe Santiago Tapia; Juana María Cárdenas, his wife. Children: Joseph Bartholomé, Juan Joseph, Joseph Christóval, Joseph Francisco, Joseph Victor, María Rosa, María Antonia, María Manuela, María Ysidora.11.Ygnacio María Gutierrez; Ana María Ossuna, his wife. Children: María de los Santos, María Petra, Diego Pasqual.5.Agustín Valenzuela; Petra Ygnacia Ochoa, his wife. Children: María Zeferina.3.Luís Joachín Alvarez de Acevedo; María Nicolosa Ortiz, his wife. Children: Juan Francisco, María Francisca.-4Ygnacio Soto; Bárbara Espinosa, his wife. Children: Joseph Antonio, María Francisca.-4.Pablo Pinto; Francisca Xaviera Ruelas, [his wife]. Children: Juan María, Joseph Marcelo, Juana Santos, Juana.6.Joseph Antonio Sotélo; Gertrudis Peralta, his wife. Children: Ramón.3.Pedro Bojórques; María Francisca de Lara, his wife. Children: María Agustina.3.Santiago de la Cruz Pico; María Jacinta Bastida, his wife. Children: Joseph María, Joseph Dolores, Joseph Patricio, Francisco Xavier, María Antonia Thomasa, María Josepha.8.Joseph Manuel Valencia; María de la Luz Muñoz, his wife. Children: Francisco María, Ygnacio María, María Gertrudis.5.Sebastián Antonio López; Phelipa Neri, his wife. Children: Sebastian, María Thomasa, María Justa.5.Juan Francisco Verual; María Soto, his wife. Children: Joseph Dionisio, Joseph Joachín, Joseph Apolinario, Juan Francisco, Thomás Januario, Ana María, María Theresa.9.Joseph Antonio Sánchez: María Dolores Morales, his wife. Children: Joseph Antonio, María Josepha, Ygnacio Cardenas, his adopted son.5.Joachín Ysidro Castro; María Martina Botiller, his wife. Children: Ygnacio Clemente, Joseph Mariano, Joseph Joachin, Francisco, Francisco Antonio, Carlos Antonio, Ana Josepha, María Encarnación, María Martina.11.Vicente Felix, widower; his wife died on the road on the morning of November 24. Children: Joseph Francisco, Joseph Dorotheo, Joseph de Jesús, Joseph Antonio Capistrano, María Loreto, María Antonia, María Manuela.-8.Juan Salvio Pacheco; María Carmen del Valle, his wife. Children: Miguel, Francisco, Bartholomé, María Gertrudis, Bárbara.7.Manuel Ramírez Arellano; María Agueda López de Aro, his wife. Children: Mariano, Mathías Vega, his adopted son.-4.
SETTLERS WHO ARE NOT SOLDIERSJoseph Manuel González; María Michaela Ruiz, his wife. Children: Juan Joseph, Ramón, Francisco, María Gregoria.6.Nicolás Galindo; Theresa Pinto, his wife. Children: Juan Venancio.3.Casimiro Varela, husband of Juana Santos Pinto. 1.Ygnasio Anastasio Higuera, husband of Michaela Bojórques.1.Christóval Sandoval; María Dolores Ontiveros, his wife.2.Nicolás Antonio Berrelleza; María Ysabel Berrelleza. These two are brother and sister and are unmarried.2.Pedro Pérez de la Fuente; Marcos Villela, Don Francisco Muñoz. These three are bachelors. 3.Feliciana Arballo, widow; María Thomasa Gutiérrez; María Eustaquia. These three are without husbands.
From this list it appears that one hundred ninety-three persons remained. I did not learn whether the list is complete or lacks somebody, for I could not succeed in ascertaining this; for Anza even indicated that he had done me a favor by permitting me to see the list which I copied. What I do know is that from it two persons are to be subtracted, namely, Carlos Gallegos and his wife, María Josepha Espinosa, who obtained permission to return to their country of Sonora and came with us. Likewise, there are to be added to it the four deserters and two servants who remained at San Gabriel. I conclude that a few others remained also, because by subtracting from the two hundred and forty of us who went, the one hundred and ninety-two who remained at Monterey, nine who remained at the Colorado River, and the twenty-nine of us who returned, eleven are left. These are the four deserters, two servants, and some others who besides these were not included in the list which I saw. And so by this computation of mine it turns out that of the company taken on this expedition some two hundred persons remained.
Sunday, April 14 SP -- I said Mass for the people of the presidio. Before saying it I noticed and experienced the slight appreciation, or the want of it, which they show at the presidio for the Mass and for the fathers, and the slights which the fathers suffer and of which I heard them complain, not even being given shelter or food when they go there to say Mass. It happened that I asked for water with which to wash my hands before Mass. The storekeeper replied that if my servants did not bring me water he could not help it, because there was nobody in the presidio to bring it to me. He left me thus, and the outcome was that a servant of Señor Anza had to bring me the water which I requested. All this comes from Señor Ribera's dislike for the fathers. The example of the chief is followed by the crowd, who pay no attention to the bell and do not go to Mass, as I saw, although the precept commands it. And the fathers cannot remedy it, for they are not authorized to reprimand the soldiers for anything.
After Mass the reverend father president came from the mission of San Carlos del Carmelo with other fathers, namely: Father Palóu, Father Cambón, Father Peña, and also Father Fray Miguel Prieras, minister of the mission of San Antonio, who was now much improved in health. The rest came to bid us goodbye and give us the last embrace, and then returned; but the father minister of the mission of San Antonio remained at Monterey in order to go in our company to that mission. Señor Anza finished arranging matters relating to the delivery and the accounts of his expedition, and after dinner most of the people whom we had brought came to say goodbye, with not a few tears on account of the love which they had come to feel for us.
Before mounting my horse I wished to take a look at the room or hogsty where I had been lodged, to see if anything had been left in it, but the corporal had already locked it. Seeing this I opened the window and told a servant to enter. The corporal saw this and came on the run to see what was up, and I said to him:
What is all this about? You certainly put us out in a hurry, for before we start you have already locked the room.
Father, he replied, "I locked it because it was necessary to guard it, for it belongs to my captain."
I said to him: "Pray, what is there to guard in it, the droppings of the hens?" And I added, "Señor Ribera was so impolite that he left his room locked, although it is the only one in the presidio where we might have been lodged."
This compartment had an anteroom like a little hall, in which he lodged me, although it was full of lime and had been turned into a hen-house. I understood that this was his scheme to avoid entertaining anyone, on the pretext of having no place, the room being thus occupied. And in order that the marine officers might not come to the presidio to get lodging when the bark arrives, and to relieve him of entertaining them, he had a large shack built outside, at the harbor on the shore of the sea, in order that they might lodge there when they landed.
Finally we said goodbye to everybody except Lieutenant Moraga, who wished to accompany us to the first camp. We set out from the presidio of Monterey at two o'clock in the afternoon, and at six o'clock halted on the banks of the Monterey River at the place called Buenavista, having traveled some six leagues -- Six leagues.
The directions of this return journey are the opposite of those traveled in going, for we returned by the same route. The number of persons in our party was twenty-nine, not counting the lieutenant, who accompanied us to this place, nor Father Prieras, who remained at San Antonio, nor a servant who remained at San Gabriel. They were those contained in the following list:
| Lieutenant-colonel and Captain Don Juan Bautista de Anza | 1 |
| The father preacher Fray Pedro Font | 1 |
| The commissary, Don Mariano Vidal | 1 |
| Carlos Gallegos and his wife | 2 |
| Ten soldiers as an escort, from the presidio of Tubac | 10 |
| Muleteers, helpers, and servants | 11 |
| The three cowboys | 3 |
| Total | 29 |
The pack train consisted of nineteen loads, three of which were for the mission of San Antonio. And in a cage we carried from the mission of Carmelo four cats, two for San Gabriel and two for San Diego, at the request of the fathers, who urgent]y asked us for them, since they are very welcome there on account of the great abundance of mice in that region and its missions.
Monday, April 15 SP -- We set out from Buenavista at a quarter past six o'clock in the morning, and at a quarter to six in the afternoon halted at the place which they call the valley of San Bernabé having traveled some eighteen short leagues -- Eighteen leagues.
When we started Lieutenant Moraga said goodbye to us with not a little sadness, and went back to Monterey. Because I knew what was ahead of him my last words to him were:
May God give you much consolation, and spare you from irritations and difficulties with Captain Ribera.
About two leagues after leaving camp we met Sergeant Góngora and the soldiers whom the commander had sent as messengers to Captain Ribera on the 12th of the month, and who were now returning. They told us that they had met Captain Ribera on the road, and that he was now near at hand. The sergeant said that he had met the captain near the mission of San Antonio, and, having delivered to him the letter which he carried from Señor Anza, Captain Ribera put it in his pocket without reading it, and afterward gave the sergeant a package, saying to him:
You go ahead, and when you meet Captain Anza give him this package.
And so the sergeant delivered the letters to Señor Anza, but he was so irritated that he said:
Señor, here comes my Captain Ribera so furious that I do not recognize him. and I am sorry that I met you on the way, because I plan when I reach Monterey to request my discharge immediately and go with you.
Señor Anza replied to him in terms designed to quiet him, and we continued on the way, surprised that Señor Ribera should come so unexpectedly and so angry that his chief confidante and friend, the sergeant, could not bear it, as he insinuated. Señor Anza read the dispatch and saw that it was a reply to the letter which he had written to Señor Ribera on the 17th of March. In it he showed himself to be very much heated, and charged Señor Anza with being inconsistent for having proposed to him that he take the people to the port of San Francisco after returning from his exploration, in case he should find there a good site in which to establish the settlement. Concerning this we had plenty to say and to be surprised at.
What we learned here appeared to us very ridiculous and to proceed from very extravagant conduct. Señor Ribera having written his reply, and the soldiers who were to carry it being about to set out from San Diego, he took back his reply and ordered them to wait. Then, pretending that he was going out on a campaign against the rebellious Indians of that mission, he set out from the presidio, but as soon as he was out of sight changed his direction and hurried to undertake this journey to Monterey, making himself his own messenger. So greatly was he upset because Señor Anza had declared in favor of the fathers and of the founding of the presidio of San Francisco, to which he was so much opposed.
We concluded that he came in such haste in order to talk with Captain Anza before he should leave the country, and to discuss with him the affairs of the expedition; and we therefore assumed that it would perhaps be necessary for us to return to Monterey, or at least to stop where we were. But we very soon saw that his coming would not cause us any delay, for after going a short distance we met Captain Ribera himself. The two captains having formally saluted each other, according to the custom of the road, without stopping to say a word Captain Ribera at once continued his way to Monterey, while we continued ours to Sonora.
This incident was even more ridiculous than his coming, and farther from anything we had imagined. Captain Ribera came bundled up in some blue serapes and with a striped cap which half covered his face, leaving visible only his left eye and a little of the very long beard which he wore. He and I embraced, but the two captains saluted each other very stiffly, for the venomous spirit in which Señor Ribera came was patent at once. They spoke very few words and these impulsively, and then, leaving Señor Anza with his words in his mouth, as they say, Señor Ribera said to him, "Goodbye, Goodbye." Then, spurring his mule, he hurried on his way, so red in the face, so choleric, and so irritated with everybody that he did not say goodbye to me or anybody else except Señor Anza, and in the way that I have related.
This occurrence gave us not a little to talk about. I discussed it with everybody, and I inferred from it that not a few quarrels and troubles for the fathers must follow, and especially for the father president, as indeed happened. Señor Anza, seeing himself thus dismissed and even insulted by Señor Ribera, who had continued on his way without speaking a word to him concerning the sole matter of his coming (which was that of the expedition), without giving him any letter for the viceroy, and without answering the second one which Señor Anza had written him on the 12th, said right there, before everybody, that they must be witnesses of what had just happened. And he forthwith asked me to give him a certificate of the whole incident, requesting the same of Father Fray Miguel Prieras. The father gave it to him at San Antonio, and I, too, consented without opposition, because it seemed to me a very just thing to do. The certificate of this incident which I gave to Señor Anza on the same day was of the following tenor:
I certify that the Lieutenant-colonel of Cavalry and Captain of the Presidio of Tubac, Don Juan Bautista de Anza, sent a second courier to the captain commander of Monterey, Don Fernando de Ribera y Moncada, informing him that he had decided to begin his return journey without waiting any longer, because the time specified in the first message had passed without his having received any reply. On the second day's march, having traveled about two leagues, we met on the road the sergeant of Monterey, who had come as the second messenger to deliver to Captain Anza some papers from Captain Ribera in reply to the first message, saying that Captain Ribera was coming and was already close at hand. We continued on our way, and having traveled a short distance we met Captain Ribera. Just when we were all thinking that his arrival would detain us, we at once saw that the contrary was the case, because he said very little.
The two captains saluted each other, and Señor Anza asked him how he was and to this Señor Ribera replied:
?I am ill,'and then, turning toward the soldiers, he called to one of them, 'Alexandro, bring those letters!'
Taking them, Alexandro gave them to Señor Anza, saying, 'Those letters are for you and for Father Garcés of San Gabriel.' At this I said:
'Is Father Garcés at San Gabriel?' And he replied:
'Yes, he is.'
Then Señor Anza said, 'I am sorry that you are not feeling well.'
Señor Ribera replied, 'At San Gabriel I was taken with a pain in this thigh,' pointing to his right thigh and saying no more. Then quickly reaching out his left hand to Don Juan, and putting it on his right arm, he said to him:
'Goodbye, Don Juan,' and spurred his mule. Don Juan, seeing himself dismissed, replied:
Goodbye, Don Fernando. I hope that from Monterey you will send to Mexico a reply to what I have written to you and you have not answered,' alluding to the letter sent by the second courier.
'All right,' Señor Ribera replied, and went on his way. And then Don Juan right there in the presence of us all, said in a loud voice:
'I want you all to witness how Don Fernando passed by without having said a word to me.'
Of all the foregoing I give this certificate at the request of Don Juan in order that all this incident may be on record whenever it may be needed, and I sign it this same day, April 15, 1776.
FRAY PEDRO FONT (Rubric)
The soldiers told us that Captain Ribera had been excommunicated. They said that the fathers of San Diego had excommunicated him because he had taken from the church by force the Indian Carlos, headman of the rebels, who had been imprisoned and had taken refuge there. But since they stopped so short a time they did not explain the case, or say anything more; and so we did not know until afterward what had taken place.
The facts were that Captain Ribera remained at San Diego, as I said on the 3d and the 9th of February, to capture the offenders and to pacify that country, although he did not arrest anybody, and all the expeditions and captures made were effected by the sergeant of the place, while Señor Ribera was at the presidio eating the little food which the fathers had, and wearying them by the disrespect with which he treated them. One day, then, he decided to go out on a campaign, which reduced itself to reaching a village. As soon as he saw that the Indians put themselves at arms, trembling and frightened, he tried to pacify them by telling them to be quiet, as he did not come for them, but for a Christian Indian headman who, they had said, was there. And when they told him that he was not there he returned to the presidio without doing another thing.
During the time occupied by this expedition, which lasted three days going and coming, it happened that the Indian Carlos fled from the prison and went to the church to take refuge. As soon as Señor Ribera arrived and learned what had happened he was very angry because the fathers had protected Carlos in the church, and he was confirmed in the opinion which he held of the necessity of his presence at the presidio, for just as soon as he was absent this thing had happened. And then, without saying a word to the fathers, he went to his room, and from there wrote them a note in which he told them that they must deliver up the offender. Since this note was written without any legal right and without the formality of the juratory security concerning immunity, the fathers replied to him by another note, refusing to deliver the criminal. At the same time they remarked to him that if he intended to take him from their proper custody, as he said in his note he would do if they did not deliver him, he might understand that he was excommunicated.
On receipt of this reply Señor Ribera flew into a rage, and in the afternoon, assembling all the soldiers, including the lieutenant, whom he had prevented from exercising his office and only this once restored to his command and authority, he went with them to the large shack which served as a church. On the ground that it was not really a church, since it formerly had been a storehouse and not a sacred place, accompanied by some of the soldiers and with his naked sword in his hand, he went inside to arrest the criminal. Seeing this, the fathers told him that he had better take care what he was doing, and that his conduct was very rude and scandalous. As he paid no attention to them, Father Vicente Fuster, minister there, seeing that he could not restrain him, said to him in a loud voice:
Don Fernando, remember that if you take the criminal you are excommunicated, and from this moment I declare you so to be.
Señor Ribera, now turning his back to enter the church, and waving his hand behind him, replied:
All right, Father Vicente, pronounce your excommunications, pronounce them, but I shall arrest this rogue just the same.
Going inside now, he seized the criminal, and the fathers returned to their room and began to weep, much afflicted at seeing themselves so insulted and despised.
Such is the absolutism with which these chiefs are accustomed to rule in such remote lands, where they recognize no superior who may restrain or subject them, and where recourse is difficult. And such are examples of the bitterness which is suffered by the ministers of the missions.
Tuesday, April 16 SP -- We set out from the Cañada de San Bernabé at a quarter to seven in the morning, and at a quarter past ten arrived at the mission of San Antonio, having traveled some five leagues. The fathers gave us a glad welcome, surprised at our arrival, since Captain Ribera had come. But they were more surprised afterward when they learned of the incident which I related yesterday. Father Dumets remarked that something would happen when the excommunication was reported, because Captain Ribera had interfered in a matter of ecclesiastical jurisdiction; but he did not say any more to us because the details of the story were not well known as yet. He also remarked to us that perhaps we should find Father Garcés at San Luís, for he knew that he had wished to come there -- Five leagues.
Wednesday, April, 17 SP -- I said Mass. Father Fray Francisco Dumets decided to accompany us as far as San Luís, since Father Fray Miguel Prieras, who came with us from Monterey, was remaining in good health at San Antonio. And so we started after dinner, the father having set us a very good table, with puddings which he had ordered made that very day, and having given us a roasted pig for the journey. 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 Cañada de los Robles on the banks of the river, after having crossed it once and traveled some seven leagues. -- Seven leagues.
Thursday, April 18 SP -- We set out from the banks of the river at six o'clock in the morning and at a quarter past five in the afternoon halted at a little watering place about three leagues after crossing the Monterey River, having traveled some sixteen leagues. On the way we crossed the San Antonio, Nacimiento, and Santa Margarita rivers, all of which are small but join and enlarge the Monterey River, as I said on going -- Sixteen leagues.
Friday, April 19 SP -- We set out from the little watering place at a quarter past six in the morning and at half past ten arrived at the mission of San Luís Obispo, after traveling some seven leagues. ?Seven leagues.
Father Garcés was not here as we had expected, having failed to come for the reason which I shall state later on. The fathers welcomed us with great joy, but were not a little surprised at our arrival, having assumed that we would be detained because of the coming of Captain Ribera; and they were much more surprised at our experiences with him on the road. On this account, and alluding to other experiences with this captain, Father Mugártegui remarked,
As between Captain Fages and Señor Ribera, Fages was the better, and we should now be glad to have him back. The friars requested that he be removed and we are now paying for it. After all, the refrain of the old woman is always in point, 'God deliver us from a worse one.'
In the afternoon we went walking through the fields of the mission which were near by and were very beautiful. While we were there we heard the ringing of bells and musket shots, as if some one had come from Monterey. We began to conjecture as to who it might be that had arrived, and we went back to the mission. Most of them were inclined to think that it must be Señor Ribera, but I could not believe it, because to go to Monterey and then return seemed to me a crazy thing to do. When we reached the mission we found that Father Fray Pedro Cambón had arrived, having come as a messenger for the father president to deliver some papers to Señor Anza, that he might carry them to Mexico. They contained an account of happenings at San Diego; and for this reason the father president did not dare to deliver them to the soldiers, for he ran the risk that they might purposely lose them, or that Señor Ribera might keep them, so delicate were affairs as all this.
This fear was well founded, judging from what now took place with Señor Ribera and was related to us by Father Cambón. It happened that Señor Ribera arrived at Monterey early on the 15th, and then in the afternoon he went with Father Fray Thomás Peña to visit the father president. He was with him for a while, but said very little, because the man was so beside himself that he was in no condition to talk with anybody. The father president, seeing that he gave him no letter, said to him:
Well, have you just come from San Diego and brought no letter for me from the fathers there?
Señor Ribera answered him as if he had forgotten it: "Aye, yes, Father, but I had forgotten, because I am sick. In the pocket of that jacket I think I must have brought one."
He began to ponder, as if he could find nothing, but finally he pulled out some letters and gave them to the father president. Among them was the one written to him by Father Fray Vicente Fuster, containing the account of the excommunication of Captain Ribera, and also of the affliction in which they found themselves. Because, the rebellious Indians of that place having confessed and wishing to come to give themselves up in peace, the captain was so inexorable that he refused to pardon anybody, even though they might humble themselves, saying:
Let them come, let them come, and I will receive them with grapeshot, etc.
Although the letter had been delivered to him at San Diego sealed, with two covers, he delivered it to the father president open and with the cover slit on the sides. From this the father president inferred that he had wished to conceal the letter, and even that he must have read it, for when he delivered it to him, without being asked and even without the father president having remarked on the slits, Captain Ribera said to him, much perturbed:
This letter comes this way, but I would swear to you that it is the truth that I do not know a thing that is in it.
For this reason the father president afterward wished to take oath and testimony to the effect that he had delivered the letter to him open and slit, whereas the others had come in good condition; but Father Peña persuaded him to let the matter drop, for the man was as disturbed as if he were out of his mind.
So the father president decided to write at once to Mexico and that Señor Anza should carry the letter. Accordingly, next day, the 16th, he asked Señor Ribera for four soldiers to go to overtake Señor Anza and deliver the letter to him, and this was granted. At the same time he told him that he desired to go to San Diego to see if he could compose the troubles that had arisen there, and for this purpose he asked him to furnish him an escort. To this Señor Ribera replied that he was about to return there and would set out on Friday, the 19th (which is today); and so, if he wished to go in his company, the two might travel together. The father president accepted the proposal, and thereupon he decided that for the greater security of the letter Father Cambón should go with the four soldiers to carry it, giving him an order to await him at San Antonio or at San Luís, in one or the other of which he would find Señor Anza, so that afterward he might go with him to San Diego as a companion.
And so Father Cambón set out from Monterey in the afternoon, on Wednesday, the 17th. This afternoon he arrived at this mission of San Luís, and told us all the foregoing, and that Señor Ribera and the father president were coming, although it did not turn out thus, as I shall state. Father Cambón also said that at the presidio there was much murmuring and talk about the captain and his tempestuous arrival, and that the people were very discontented, and that the captain had already had an encounter with Moraga, the lieutenant of the expedition. When he asked the latter if some of the new soldiers had gone with us on the exploration of the port of San Francisco, he replied, "No." Then he said to him:
It would have been well if some of them had gone, in order that they might see if that port is as good as you men say.
To this the lieutenant replied that he had seen it and that he could assure him that it was good for the settlement. Señor Ribera replied that it would be better if the soldiers had seen it, in order that it might be certain, and in order that they might see if it pleased them. Angrily the lieutenant then replied:
I saw it, and if I say that it is good that is enough, and ought to settle it. Banging his hand on the table, he continued, "My word is better than that of the entire company. In short, we do not have to find out whether the soldiers like it or not, for the soldiers will go wherever they are ordered, be it good or be it bad, for this is what the king pays them for."
This reply bowled Señor Ribera completely over, and after that he did not say another word to him. But he remained the lieutenant's avowed enemy, because anyone who talked in favor of this foundation and establishment was his foe.
Saturday, April 20 SP -- I said Mass. We remained at this mission because its minister, Father Cavaller, desired us to stay here a while, and since he was my fellow countryman I requested Señor Anza that we might stop for at least three days. After what had happened we had plenty to talk about, and we passed the day very pleasantly, for we six fathers here assembled were men of good cheer.
Sunday, April 21 SP -- I said the last Mass, and afterward I baptized five adult heathen, two men and three women, Captain Anza being godfather to all of them. And as soon as they were baptized I married the two men, one with an Indian woman already baptized and the other with an Indian baptized at this time. In the afternoon some soldiers came and said that Captain Ribera was coming from Monterey and that he had stopped at the little pass distant from the mission somewhat more than a league, where he had camped without coming to the mission, saying that he was tired and the weather was not very good. This of course was a frivolous excuse, the fact being that he did not come to the mission because he did not want to see Captain Anza.
The soldiers gave a message to Captain Anza from Señor Ribera, saying that he was sending them to salute him and to say that he would not go to the mission for the reason stated, namely, that he was tired. But afterward we learned that this was a lie of the soldiers (this matter of lying is common among them), for Señor Ribera neither gave them a letter nor any such message, nor did he send them for that purpose. On the contrary, the soldiers, seeing that their captain was stopping on the road, asked his consent to go to the mission, in order to see their friends, but under pretext of getting some supplies. We asked them if the father president was coming also. They replied that he was not, for although they had agreed that the two should come on Friday the 19th, as I said yesterday, Señor Ribera immediately changed his mind, and on Thursday the 18th, in the afternoon, he ordered the horses rounded up in a hurry and prepared for his march, taking with him Sergeant Gongora and a few soldiers. On mounting his horse he sent a message to the father president, saying that he was not waiting for him because he desired to set out in a hurry for the sole purpose of overtaking Captain Anza in order to talk with him before he should leave. But this was not the real reason. On the contrary, the real reason was that he did not wish the father president to go to San Diego. And, according to what we understood, it appears that he even left orders with Lieutenant Moraga, to whom he entrusted the care of the presidio, not to furnish the father president an escort in case he should ask for one.
For this reason Father Cambón urged Señor Anza to read a letter which he had brought from Señor Ribera. At first he refused to look at or to accept it. Condescending, however, he read it, and at once replied to Señor Ribera, sending him a message telling him that he had decided to continue his journey in the morning, but, since Señor Ribera had come, if he wished to talk with him about pending business of the expedition he would not refuse it, but would wait as long as necessary, since he desired to serve both God and the king in the matter; or, if Señor Ribera wished to do this at San Gabriel as they had agreed at first, he would not refuse this either, if only he would say what he wished; but he must let him know, for since Señor Ribera had traveled such a long distance without stopping to talk, in order to avoid any contention he did not wish to converse with him, and would communicate only officially and in writing, and Señor Ribera must reply in the same way. And to the soldier, one of his men who went as a messenger, he gave orders that if Señor Ribera wished to reply he should await the message in order to bring it, but if not he should return at once. That night we diverted ourselves somewhat with the musical instrument, and permission was given to the converted Indian girls, whom they called nuns, to come out from their seclusion and be there with us for awhile, at which they were very much pleased.
Monday, April 22 SP -- I said Mass. Since Señor Ribera said that he left Monterey in such a hurry solely to talk with Señor Anza wherever he might find him, it seemed natural, and all of us thought, that he would decide to talk with him, since he had overtaken him here. But we were soon undeceived and learned that he had a different idea. Today at noon when we were sitting down to dinner the soldier who went yesterday as a messenger returned with a letter for Señor Anza from Señor Ribera in which, without mentioning the matter of talking with him here, he blamed him for not having talked with him on the road, making the frivolous excuse of his illness, and pretending that on account of it he had not been able to stop. After having detained so long the soldier who went as a messenger, and being so close at hand, such was the reply with which he finally dispatched him!
But what follows is even better. A little past noon, after we had finished eating, Captain Ribera himself arrived at the mission, but he stayed only a short while and without talking with Captain Anza, for within an hour he started for San Gabriel. As soon as he arrived the fathers went out to welcome him, but Señor Anza and I did not care to go out since he had refused to talk with us on the road. And so we went into our own rooms as if we had retired to take our siesta. Señor Ribera said that he wished to talk to Señor Anza, and the commissary went in to convey this message for him. But Señor Anza replied, through the same commissary, that he had just retired to take a nap through his siesta; if after that he wished to talk he would not refuse him; but since the only business they had to talk about was that of the expedition and of his exploration of the Port of San Francisco, he must communicate in writing, as he had already told him, for he did not wish to discuss it with him in any other manner, in order to avoid contentions.
Well, Señor Ribera stayed for about an hour without seeing Señor Anza (he saluted me in passing, for at that time I found it necessary to leave my room and consequently he saw me accidentally) or making any demonstration with which to make amends for the insult which he had offered him on the road. Then, in order to appease his anger (for if Señor Anza was now angry with Señor Ribera, Señor Ribera was even more angry with Señor Anza), within that same hour he decided and resolved to go forward and await Captain Anza at San Gabriel. And so he departed and left us in the air, and with today's journey lost on account of him.
Moreover, he left Father Fray Pedro Cambón unable to return, because the four soldiers who came with him as an escort Señor Ribera ordered to go forward with him to San Gabriel; and so when Father Cambón thought of returning to Monterey, on the supposition that the father president, whom he was to await here, would not come, as had been expected, it resulted from this new order that he was left here without an escort to go either back or forward. Besides all this, Señor Ribera took from the mission all the saddle animals that he could, and left the mission guard almost without mounts and on foot, making it impossible for these soldiers to escort Father Cambón in case he might wish to return.
From all this we inferred what we had already surmised when we witnessed his tempestuous arrival, namely, that he aimed to leave Monterey with few soldiers, in order that with the pretext of San Diego they might not go to the establishment of the Port of San Francisco, to which he was violently opposed; and in order that the father president might not go to San Diego. We did not learn whether or not he went afterward, because since we were on our way to Sonora we have not learned any more from those fathers, nor how those matters there may have come out.
It was decided that six Indians of this mission should come with us as far as the Channel to buy two launches with which to fish; and in fact they did come, Señor Anza giving them glass beads with which to buy them, and afterward they returned with them by sea. Moreover, Señor Anza offered to take with him to Mexico, and in fact he did take, an Indian boy some ten years old, a very lively fellow called Pedro, son of the famous Captain Buchón and of an Indian woman, his concubine, now a Christian and married to a soldier of that place. He promised to take good care of him, and that within two years he himself would bring him back and restore him to that mission, although I do not know on what this promise was founded. The fathers agreed to it, depriving themselves of the boy, the best interpreter they had, in order that the viceroy might see a Christian of this mission, and one who already was well versed in Castilian and knew how to read. The boy gladly agreed to come, and therefore, in the church, after I said Mass, he said goodbye to the people and his relatives with much jauntiness and grace, due to the influence of Father Cavaller. In the evening we made merry for a while.
Tuesday, April 23 SP -- Father Cavaller had offered me some baskets, but since I had no place or means to carry them, I told him that he ought to try to get on good terms with Señor Anza, who was now always friendly with me; for I knew that he greatly desired to take some of these things to Mexico to give them as presents there. And besides, I hoped that I should get some of them, for, as I said on the 25th of February, he had told me that when we reached San Miguel on the return from our journey he would let me choose anything that I might wish. Thereupon Father Cavaller gave Señor Anza many baskets, some bear skins, some eight I think, and thirty-odd beaver skins, and other things. Nevertheless, this morning he gave me personally two choice beaver skins, saying before everybody that he had reserved those for me. On this account, knowing what would happen to me afterward, and in order that Señor Anza might know that Father Cavaller had given him everything through my influence, I said to Señor Anza,
See these things which Father Cavaller has. I told him to deal generously with you and give you everything that he wished to give to me, for you have already told me that later on you will give them to me; but now he has decided that I am to take these two skins.
Well, your Reverence, take them, Señor Anza replied.
And this is all that I got, for afterward he did not give me even a common basket. And so it was that in San Miguel he distributed many articles, and there were presents for numerous persons, but not even for politeness sake did he ask me if I wished any of the many things which he brought.
Having with special demonstrations of tenderness and love said goodbye to the fathers, three of whom accompanied us for a short distance, we set out from the mission of San Luís Obispo at seven in the morning, and at half past six in the afternoon we halted at Laguna Graciosa, having traveled some seventeen leagues on the same road that we took on going. When we left the beach and entered the sand dunes we lost our way in them for a while, because no trace or road is ever to be seen there. And we made a mistake in the signs which we ought to have followed, which were some whalebones, because we confused them with others which we came upon before. Today we gathered some very rare shells, although few, because all that coast is very short of them and one finds one only now and then -- Seventeen leagues.
Wednesday, April 24 SP -- We set out from Laguna Graciosa at half past six in the morning and, having traveled some sixteen leagues, at a quarter to five in the afternoon halted at a small arroyo on the beach of the Channel near the Ranchería del Coxo, where we halted on February 27th. We crossed the Santa Rosa River without delay because it was now low tide. At Point Concepción, where all the country was thickly strewn with flowers, I saw many larkspurs, and some little red and very pretty marigolds -- Sixteen leagues.
Thursday, April 25 SP -- I said Mass. We set out from camp near the Rancheria del Coxo at six o'clock in the morning and at half past five in the afternoon halted just before coming to the Rancherìas de Mescaltitán, having traveled some eighteen leagues, most of the way on the beach, where the traveling is better because the footing is level and firm. We passed through the same villages as on going; but in them we were unable to obtain any baskets or other things of importance, because it seems that when the expedition came the Indians were left without baskets, having sold everything then. Some Indians came to the Ranchería de Mescaltitán, and immediately gave proof of their dexterity in stealing, for right in front of everybody and without anybody noticing it, they stole the large iron spoon of the kitchen, which was missed after we left. Although next morning efforts were made to recover it, they did not succeed. because they said it had been carried away by the people of another village, on the other side of the estuary. That night the Indians were very happy, singing until very late. Perhaps they were celebrating the theft of the spoon with a fandango -- Eighteen leagues.
Friday, April 26 SP -- We set out from camp near the Rancherías de Mescaltitán at a quarter past six in the morning and at five in the afternoon halted at the Rio de la Assumpta, having traveled some seventeen leagues, most of the way along the beach and passing through the same villages as on going-- Seventeen leagues.
In one of the villages I saw that the Indians were roasting a number of locusts and some large crabs which they had caught among some large rocks on the beach. They gave me one and I gave it to the cook that he might prepare it. On the road Señor Anza had told me that for him crab was a very delectable dish and that he greatly liked it, but now he refused to eat it, or even taste it, no matter how much I urged him, excusing himself by saying that it was not a food that he would like, and that he feared that it would make him sick. But the real reason was that he did not wish to taste it because they had given it to me. In fact it was his custom to despise and belittle anything of mine or which they might give me, and would rather see it lost, as happened to me with a bag of prepared mincemeat which I was carrying and out of respect to him did not eat; with a quail and a duck which the soldiers gave to me; with a piece of spotted dog-fish which they gave me at Puerto Dulce; and with some cheese which they gave me at San Gabriel.
Today after halting we were able to see the islands of the Channel, which hitherto, neither going nor returning, had we been able to see clearly, but only very confusedly and indistinctly, because of the fogs which are almost continuous in this sea. With this opportunity I sketched them according to the front view which they presented from this place of La Assumpta, and it is as shown in the sketch which I insert here. I noted that, looking southward from (insert sketch here) this place, the largest island, which is that of Santa Cruz, lies to the southwest, and the rest follow after it toward the south. And I may remark that all these islands are some six or eight leagues out at sea and are the ones which form the Channel.
Saturday, April 27 SP -- We set out from the Rio de la Assumpta at a quarter past six in the morning and, having traveled some eighteen leagues, at half past five in the afternoon halted at Agua Escondida, where on going we camped on February 22. At the beginning of the Journey today we left the Channel, and before climbing La Cuesta we halted for a while at a little spring of water which is at the foot of it, and near which there is a spring of tar, as I said on February 23. In the sierra we found abandoned the villages which we saw on going, their Indians having moved, because, since it did not rain much this year their watering places gave out and the country was very dry and cracked. From the time when we entered those regions we were troubled with fleas, but during these days they were so bad that wherever we halted everything was alive with them, and very hungry ones. No country is without its plague, and that one has the plague of fleas -- Eighteen leagues.
Sunday, April 28 SP -- I said Mass. We left Agua Escondida at seven o'clock in the morning and at five in the afternoon halted at the Porcinucula River, having traveled some fourteen leagues-Fourteen leagues.
The four soldiers who had come from Monterey with Father Cambón and had accompanied us because Señor Ribera ordered them to go forward, were ordered by Señor Anza as soon as we halted to go on to San Gabriel and give his greetings to Señor Ribera, who had reached that mission the day before, Saturday at noon, and to take him a friendly message, informing him that he would arrive there tomorrow. Afterward Señor Anza said to me that he intended to remain in his tent outside the mission because, since Señor Ribera was lodging there he did not wish to expose himself to being insulted by him again; that he was not doing this on account of the fathers, but to avoid any trouble, perhaps scandalous, which might arise, with Señor Ribera there at the same time. I tried to dissuade him because of the talk which this might cause, but I could not induce him to change his mind; and afterward I saw that he was right, and that it was better that he should do this, because otherwise doubtless something, perhaps even worse, would have happened. Indeed, according to what we saw later and what happened next day, as I shall relate, they might have come to blows, because of the hostility that existed between them.
Monday, April 29 SP -- We set out from Porciúncula River at a quarter past six in the morning and at eight arrived at the mission of San Gabriel, having traveled two leagues -- Two leagues.
Commander Ribera was at the mission, but he did not come out to greet us when we arrived, nor did he talk with Commander Anza during all the days while we remained here. On the way I began to urge Señor Anza to go to lodge at the mission, or at least that he should go there to dismount. Finally we agreed that we should dismount at the mission, and if Señor Ribera came out to welcome us and showed himself to be somewhat humble and human, Señor Anza would overlook everything that had happened, and lodge at the mission, and likewise talk with Señor Ribera.
But if Señor Anza is stubborn, on this occasion Señor Ribera showed himself to be even more so. We arrived at the mission and dismounted there; but, although Señor Ribera ordered the soldiers to form in line and fire their muskets on our arrival, as is customary there, he remained in his room listening to the shots and the peal of bells without coming out. Señor Anza in spite of this remained at the mission about half an hour, giving Señor Ribera this much time, to see if he would make any demonstration. Seeing that he did not come out of his room nor permit himself to be seen, Señor Anza said to me,
Father, I am going to do what I have told you I would do, for your Reverence now sees the conduct of this man and to what I expose myself if I remain here.
I told him that he was quite right, and that I now shared his opinion. Thereupon he ordered his tent set up some distance from the mission and went to live in it.
After he left I saw even more clearly that the decision of Señor Anza was very wise, for because of it some greater scandal which might have happened was avoided. Father Paterna, as a warm friend of Señor Ribera, tried to explain away the matter, saying that Señor Ribera must not have come out because he was very busy writing, and attempted to hide from me what he had told him, and his intentions. Nevertheless, I know for certain that Señor Ribera had told him that when Señor Anza arrived at the mission he would not leave his room even to eat, in order not to be with him. This is not only very plausible, but I was convinced of it by the evidence which he gave of his intention. For when Father Cruzado told him that we were coming, so that he might come out, he did not say a word to him in reply and did not move, and consequently did not come out to see us when we arrived. Nor did I, who lived at the mission, see his face until noon when we sat down at the table, and then he saluted me very haughtily without saying anything to me except, "May God be with you." And so we passed no other words, and his choleric heart was very evident from his taciturn and angry mood. I may add that when they went to call him to dinner he asked if Captain Anza was there, and when they told him that he was not, and that he had gone to stay at his tent, he then left his room and came to eat, very well satisfied with his own conduct.
Tuesday, April 30 SP -- We remained at this mission and the two commanders communicated in writing, discussing their affairs officially and wasting paper, one from his room and the other from his tent, each one with a soldier postman, maintaining themselves thus without showing their faces. Señor Ribera was very well satisfied with himself, and was so haughty with me that when I saluted him this morning when I passed by the door of the room where he was. he allowed me to pass without replying or looking at me.