We made a large fire hoping he might see it, fired guns and shouted, and early today he was found by a Mexican scout; he had wandered about for thirty hours between leaving the party and returning to it. He had been greatly frightened, and looked wild, when the Mexican brought him in. He said he kept getting almost within range of the wounded animal when it disappeared, and heavy rain began falling which washed out the blood of the trail which would have showed him the way back. He thought his heart would burst when he realized he was lost in an Indian country; he had no idea where he was; everything was mist and greyness; he was cold, hungry, and soaked through, and worst of all his gun and ammunition were wet; he was so eager not to lose sight of the deer that he had forgotten the rule always to reload as soon as a charge is fired, when in an enemy's country, as the report of the gun will inform the Indian of your proximity. He never heard one of the guns that were fired every fifteen minutes from our camp, and as soon as dawn came searching parties started in every direction, little knowing that Walsh was trotting towards us, behind a Mexican, in the peculiar half run of that grade of native, when in haste.
David Hudson and I had struck far off to the north, and had traversed table lands and mountain paths for some miles, when just as we emerged from a patch of oaks and undergrowth, all dead, thin, dried, brown leaves in contrast with the full summer bloom of everything outside this blighted spot, we heard the tread of men, and quietly moving behind two large trees near us, waited to see who the newcomers were. We knew we had heard the footsteps of more than one man, but only the Mexican appeared at first; in a few seconds with eyes like owls in daylight, mouth open, hair streaming in every direction, and looking like an escaped Bedlamite, came Walsh. He gripped my hand so that it feels bruised yet; his first words were: "Good fellow if he is a Greaser, have you two dollars?" The Mexican told us he had left the mine where he worked, to go to the rancho where his sweetheart lived, and knowing the country well, took a cross trail for speed and heard a man making a great noise who seemed to want something; he soon found him and knew at once he belonged to our company whom he had seen at Jesus Maria.
July 27th. We parted today with Joseph Stevenson, one of our blacksmiths, to my great regret. He returned to Jesus Maria where he is going into partnership with a Mr. Williams, a carpenter, and will no doubt make a good living for he is a very excellent workman. I passed today a large pine tree with the most curious display of the sagacity, instinct, or whatever it may be called, of some insectivorous bird, I think a red-headed woodpecker; for I saw one a few minutes afterwards, and he may be the workman. The bark of the tree was perforated with holes just large enough in diameter to hold the small acorn of this country, say half an inch, and about as deep; the holes were from a quarter of an inch to an inch and a half apart; the acorns seemed all to be put in butt end foremost, I suppose because the cone end would turn the rain better. Should instinct tell all this to the beautiful bird who lays up his store in this manner so that he may go in the winter to eat the grub that is sure to be in every acorn, how wonderful are the provisions of Nature for her children.
This high ridge gives a complete change of birds; Steller's jay, so common a few days' journey from here, is rare—indeed, I have only seen one; the Ultramarine takes its place, and I hope in a few days to see the Columbian; a few ravens are to be seen, and one hawk, like our red-tailed, but I am not sure of him. The lightning here is most vivid, and on the sides of some of the mountains of medium height, I found seared and scathed patches of timber and undergrowth, as if ignition of the electric fluid had taken place at those spots, possibly attracted to them by the presence of iron; if this is so, how terrific would be the destruction to our company if such an event occurred where we were encamped.
July 28th. Paragarto. We did not leave camp until nearly noon, waiting for a train of one hundred and eighty-two mules packed with nothing but flasks of quicksilver; the usual length of trains is about forty to fifty, with six or eight men. Our road was the usual ascent and descent, and on the second descent I saw fifteen or twenty swifts, about double the size of our common chimney swift at home. They appeared to nest on the cliffs opposite to the trail, a location similar to that of the first Republican swallow my father[18] found near Cincinnati.
Sundown found us in a beautiful little valley, setting up our tents in the usual rain, and trying to dry ourselves by the fires of those who had come in ahead. We have now become so accustomed to daily rains that it is a matter of course to encounter them. There is a rancho here with peaches and figs in abundance. In this valley we went again to shoeing horses; never were shoes lost in so short a time as on these cruel trails, sometimes they are wrenched off in a few hours, and they commonly get loose and require nails every three or four days. Layton and I ascended one of the highest peaks in the neighborhood; like all other mountain regions when one peak, seemingly the highest, is reached, others still higher appear between us and the desired view. Out of breath, shoes cut, and clothes torn, we reached the foot of the highest elevation like the cone of Vesuvius, and found it an arduous climb; broken, reddish traprock of all sizes made the mass, and a straggling pine from time to time added to the solemnity of this desolate place, which filled me with awe and reverence, which was not decreased as muttering thunder gave us warning that our turn would be next, if the attractions of the mountains the storm was already besieging, did not exhaust the clouds. Silently, however, we struggled upwards, and another half hour enabled us to look to the east, south, and west as far as eye could reach; the north was left to our imaginations, being hid by a veil of clouds which sent flash after flash, peal after peal, to tell us of the storm which held sway there. Distance lent such enchantment to all that the valleys and slopes looked as velvety as an English lawn.
Twenty-five Miles West of Jesus Maria
July 29, 1849
Our descent was very rapid, but giving the usual fatigue of a downhill march. I saw many runs of deer, no doubt made by the bucks following the doe, though they are still in velvet. I saw some squirrels but could not get at them, as the stones on which we were walking were so loose that they would sometimes roll two hundred feet (I might almost say yards), and made so much noise that they startled not only them, but the deer.