As we stood looking at all this, from a hill higher than the one on which we were, swooped a California vulture, coming towards us until, at about fifty yards, having satisfied his curiosity, though not mine, he rose in majestic circles high above us, and with a sudden dash took a straight line, somewhat inclining downwards, towards the mountains across the valley and was lost to sight, from actual distance.
The garden of the Mission has been beautiful, and we found it still well stocked with vines, olives, figs, etc., but the same desolation is visible everywhere through this country of splendid soil, which here is rather sandy. There is still lack of wood and water, irrigation has been universal.
The Missions seem to have been divided into the residence, with beautiful gardens, the church, the stock farm and the grain-growing lands, and all have possessed much comfort if not considerable wealth. Naturally those who lived in them wished to isolate themselves from the world, and to surrender the pleasures and ambitions found there, for the advancement of their religion, or, at least, were willing to do so.
November 9th. I have already seen the nucleus of an American rancho, in this country, which is lonely rather than desolate. We have passed many fine old Missions, at least six or seven, but though in the midst of beautiful land, with hundreds of horses and cattle, and many herds of sheep and goats, the indolence of the people has left all decaying, and they live in dirt and ignorance, and merely vegetate away this life in listlessness, except for the occasional excitement of a trade in horses, or a game of monte. We have had many melons, late in the season as we are; they are pulled and put up as the French do pears, and keep fresh for many weeks.
All the people here ride well, and fast, many without saddles; these latter tie a rope, or if they have it, a surcingle, buckle that around the body of the horse, and stick both knees under it, so that it is a great assistance to them. The gallop is the usual gait at which they travel. The continual absence of wood gives an appearance to all the hills, of old fields, but many of the valleys are truly beautiful; fine sycamores, oaks and cottonwoods along the water making everything look refreshing to a degree that none can realize but those who have been for weeks exposed to sun and rain, keen winds and cold nights, without woods for shelter or fire; in cooking we have often had to keep up a fire with weeds, some men attending to this, while the others fried our meat, made coffee, and what we called bread.
Los Angeles. This "city of the angels" is anything else, unless the angels are fallen ones. An antiquated, dilapidated air pervades all, but Americans are pouring in, and in a few years will make a beautiful place of it. It is well watered by a pretty little river, led off in irrigating ditches like those at San Antonio de Bexar. The whole town is surrounded to the south with very luxuriant vines, and the grapes are quite delightful; we parted from them with great regret, as fruit is such a luxury to us. Many of the men took bushels, and only paid small sums for them.
The hills to the north command the whole town, and will be the place for the garrison.
San Pedro, twenty-seven miles south-west, is the port, and is said to have a good harbor. All the country round is rolling, and in many places almost mountainous. Before you get to the Coast Range the soil is most of it very good, and the cattle are fine; wild mustard grows everywhere, to the height of five feet or more; in the richest soil attaining seven and eight feet, and we have twice cooked our meal with no fuel but the stalks of this weed.
We have had great trouble with our mules for want of grass, and the poor things wandered miles, and we lost some few, and had difficulty in getting the others. After long consultations we decided to divide, eleven of us to bring on the mules and take the valley of the Tulare for our route; the rest of the company under Henry Mallory going up in the barque Hector for thirty dollars each, as our mules are utterly broken down, and we want to get them through to San Francisco if we can. So much for our splendid outfit, so much for the plans of our Military Commander. But let it pass, and I will try to describe our route.
[No date.] Leaving Los Angeles at one o'clock, with forty-six mules and ten men, I making the eleventh, and two of the number being my true friends Browning and Simson, we passed eastward of the town, and followed the little river of the same name, and camped on the best grass we had had, and with so good a beginning, expected to have the same for our poor animals for the rest of our journey, and in some degree recruit them and heal their sore backs.