A short council at which Captain Sutter was present determined upon the route home.
“It would be folly to recross the Sierras, here,” stated the lieutenant. “I suppose the snow lies on them away into the summer.”
“Yes, sir,” assured the captain.
“I was thinking, then,” continued the lieutenant, “of travelling south, down the Valley of the Sacramento and up the Valley of the San Joachin, that Kit has talked so much about, for the Joe Walker Pass at the lower end of the ranges. And then to strike the Spanish Trail that runs from the Pueblo of Los Angeles to Santa Fé.”
“Very good,” approved the captain. “It’s a fine, well-watered country, with plenty of game, all the way to the southern passes.”
“We’re not liable to be interfered with, by the authorities, are we?” queried the lieutenant. “This is Mexican territory, and we came in without leave.”
“Not so far back from the coast,” answered Captain Sutter. “But you’ll have to watch sharp, or the Indians, particularly the mansitos, or tamed Indians, as we call the Indians educated by the missions, who have returned to wild life, will steal your animals. They are very bold and clever. They even come down and try to steal our horses at New Helvetia.”
“We’ll watch,” promised the lieutenant.
“No white settlements, captain?” asked Kit.