Audubon's Western Journal: 1849-1850 — Across The Mexican Mountains To Altar Part 1

ACROSS THE MEXICAN MOUNTAINS TO ALTAR

_June 28th.

_ Left Parral at noon, leaving Carroll, E. A.

Lambert, J. S.

Lambert, J. Black, Pennypacker and Joseph Lambert to follow after burying poor Teller.

Before this we had sold our Jersey wagon for . 00 and I refused . 00 for two mules, as I did not dare to start short handed in animals, their lives here are so uncertain.

Our start was late, not only owing to the loss of our companion, but because the night previous we had a severe storm with thunder and lightning, which had drenched tents, blankets and men; many of the men were stiff and cold, and we had to dry the tents and blankets to save weight on our mules, but when we did start, we wound along a glen that led to our first view of the spurs of the eastern chain of the Rocky mountains, and exclamations of delight burst forth from all.

We rode until six this evening, twenty miles, when another terrific storm coming on, we camped on a grassy flat, among musquit and scrub oaks, with good feeding for horses, but bad water.

It rained too hard to make a fire, so we dined on bread and Parral cheese, not bad I assure you.

Each man was served with a tin cup of brandy and water.

The question was brought up as to whether or not brandy was essential, except in real illness.

As we sat in the dim light of our lantern, drenched and cold, we decided in the affirmative, and if our friends could have seen us, they would, I think, have sanctioned the vote.

At ten o'clock I turned myself and my guard out, and Henry Mallory and his twelve men were my relief; the guard being unusually large, thieves here being so numerous that guards must be close enough to see each other, even on a dark night.

_June 29th.

_ We passed through patches of beautiful scarlet lilies, that sometimes were an acre in extent, gorgeous and splendid, and contrasting with an equally abundant blue-flowering plant like larkspur, but alas, I am no botanist.

We here came to the first great ascent we had made for some time.

Had we not been told that La Zarca was the highest point in central Mexico, we should have thought ourselves a thousand feet higher than at any previous time on our trip.

Up we went through scrub, post and live-oaks filled with mistletoe, and a most beautiful laurel, with the stems and branches bright cinnamon orange.

At last we arrived at the top of the ridge, and came to a jutting point giving a view of the most magnificent mountain pass that can be imagined.

Our men gave a shout for mere exultation, and I partook of their buoyant spirits, and cried out: "Three cheers for these glorious hills," and such cheers!!

Echo after echo responded, and we gazed then in silence at the superb cliffs, volcanic, basaltic, and sandstone, all discolored with the iron prominent on the surface, and below us the beauties of a little torrent that dashed on to the west as fast as I could have wished to go.

Our course was downward now, and as we descended the forest grew taller;

laurel, pine, oak, a wild cherry, a cedar, new to me, two feet six inches in diameter, with balls and foliage like arbor vitae, and bark furrowed like an ash, ornamented the beautiful gorge; besides there were the common cedar and many splendid walnut trees.

To describe the road would be rather difficult; it was just passable, that is to say _could_ be passed; in many places not easy work for our packs.

Most of us led our horses, either to save them or ourselves, for a stumble might send us two or three hundred feet down, and was not to be risked.

Just as we reached the valley Maybury was taken ill with what resembled cholera, and could not ride on in the heat of the day, so Dr. Trask, Simson, Mallory and Pennypacker remained behind with him.

The rest of us went on for ten miles, and encamped on a beautiful, rolling prairie under some post and narrow-leaved swamp oaks.

It rained most violently as usual, as it has done every evening since we entered the mountains.

Fortunately, before it began Maybury and the men left to care for him reached camp.

_June 30th.

_ A fine morning.

As we had no fresh meat we took a little bacon, our never failing standby, and going on came to Huajatita, and camped two miles beyond.

Here we bought a six-months-old calf for five dollars, and abundance of corn for two dollars and fifty cents per cargo (six bushels).

I am so enchanted with the wild beauty all about us, that I could almost stay months to enjoy it.

It is all new to me; the hills and mountains are different in shape from any I have seen; the plants, trees, rock, all strange, and as we take our horses to the beautiful creek to drink, curious fish come to look at their noses.

_July 1st.

_ Again our road was up hill, and most dangerous, so most of us walked, but with all our care nearly lost two mules, by mis-steps.

The narrow passes are so worn by the trains of pack mules, that, to insure safe footing, each mule puts his foot in the same worn hole that other mules have trod, for, perhaps, fifty years previously.

Two of our train failing to do this rolled over four or five times, and how they ever recovered their footing is a mystery; a horse under similar conditions would have gone to the bottom.

To us, so long suffering from drought and bad water, the showers that come daily in the afternoon about three o'clock, and the little streams we cross, are most enchanting.

The ride today was very interesting.

_July 2d.

_ We are leaving the mountains and I dread the plains again, they are so monotonous.

We found some wild grapes, and, to _us_, the most matured were not sour.

Liscomb was taken ill today with dysentery, and we feared we should lose him.

Tone put him on his horse, the easiest we had, and Carroll was most kind to him; we were compelled to go on, but we gave him short rests as frequently as we could.

Gradually the plain narrowed, and as we neared the ridge of mountains which bounds one side of the valley of Santa Cruz, we passed the ruins of a once beautiful Mission.

It was a low, Gothic style of architecture, built of yellowish white sandstone.

We waited in the shade of the walls of Santa Cruz to rest young Liscomb, and the main company wound its way along to a rancho a few miles distant where we could get corn for the horses and mules.

I did not have time to see enough of Santa Cruz to describe it.

Like all the towns of this part of the country, it has the remains of strong walls, that fifty years ago gave safety from the incursions of the Indians.

As the day cooled we took Liscomb on, and crossed the Conchos River, called by the natives, of course, "Rio Grande," as they call every river in Mexico.

On reaching camp I found Langdon Havens had killed three glossy ibises at one shot; they are most abundant here, also white egrets and green herons, and I was delighted to see buff-necked Cormorants of California, and many other birds strange and new, but no time have I to study them, or even to secure and prepare specimens, and how could I carry them if I had them?

I was called here to see Carroll, who while measuring corn was taken with a violent fit, after which he was so exhausted we had to leave him behind with four men, and we rode ten miles further on, and at the setting of the sun came to a little river, with high bluffs, and most beautiful in the light and shade given by the clouds.

Our path has been most precipitous, alternately descending and ascending, to and from the river.

Never in any country have I seen more beautiful lands; we rode through groves of water-oak, and what I should call willow-oaks, with a sweet little acorn, almost as good as a nut, occasionally pines and cedars; and there are many little brooks, in nearly all of which are fish, so I presume there must be water holes all the year round.

Antelopes are seen from time to time, but only one or two a day, wonderfully scarce for a country apparently so well adapted for both deer and antelopes.

The black-tailed hare is seen too, but scarce, compared to the numbers we saw after leaving Parras.

Leaving this place we rode along a sandy bottom, which in the rainy season is the bed of a torrent.

We left just before sunrise, and the heavy dew of this country gave such a freshness to all vegetation that nature seemed more luxuriant than ever.

The prairies at this season present to our view many beautiful flowers, nearly all of a most delicate character, like primroses, larkspurs, sweet williams.

Nettles six feet high, their blue flowers almost hiding the rich green of their stinging leaves, extend, sometimes, for miles along the sand bars.

The cactus seems to have been left behind.

We now found quantities of mushrooms, looking like the same species at home, and having the same flavor both raw and cooked.

The minerals I cannot speak of, but Dr. Trask tells me that there is a good deal of silver, and some gold in the earth mixed with quantities of lead.

The stone is sandstone, and now and then we see most beautiful marbles, black and white, in strata, as if laid by hand.

We killed three pigeons today, and have seen many, of what I take to be either Steller's Jay or the ultramarine, but they are so shy, we cannot get at them.

One of "the boys" gave me two young marmots, but I cannot place them, though the spots are a good deal like the Mexican, but not regular enough for that species.

The land snail, which as far as Monterey was abundant, has gradually disappeared, and we are now free from it.

The eatables in this country are scarce, no vegetables except beans, onions, and a very small pea.

Beans are seventy-five cents an "Almud."

Corn one and one half to three dollars a "fanega" (nearly three bushels).

Cattle, half grown, three to twelve dollars.

Sheep from a dollar and a half to two dollars.

Hogs, strange to say, run up to eighteen and twenty dollars, and are fattened expressly for the lard, which is as high as eight dollars for twenty-five pounds, and a very large, fat animal has sold for fifty dollars.

Concepcion, about the twentieth town of the name we have passed, is a dirty little place, with a church and nunnery.

The inhabitants are like all other Mexicans, and are in eternal dread of the Apaches.

So far we have not seen a hostile Indian, and only once a trail, which was that of the "Taromari" [Taraumara][17] tribe, and our guide said were not Bravos.

Many of the people take advantage of us as an escort, and run along either before or behind, and at night camp near us.

_July 2d.

_ We wound along the meanderings of the river "Verde," sometimes smooth and again a dashing torrent, and reached "El Rancho Arisachi," deserted by its original owners.

It is worked by Tarimari Indians and owned now by some one whose name we could not find out.

We tried to buy cattle, for we had had no fresh meat for several days;

but any we pointed out could not be bought, no owner could be found.

I

told Van Horn, our best shot, to pick out the fattest yearling he could find, and we would pay the owner if he came forward.

The beast was no sooner shot than a man claimed the price.

By the time we had dressed the animal, and packed the four quarters on our meat mules, no vestige was seen of the dead animal—entrails, head, etc. , being carried off by the Indians.

From this rancho we had to leave our beautiful stream for a mountain pass, and the first precipice we ascended cost Watkinson his horse;

the poor brute had no bones broken, but was so lame from his fall, that we had to leave him behind.

There was plenty of grass and water in the valley near which he fell and we hoped he would be found and cared for, not eaten, as among these Indians is the rule when horses or mules are broken down or injured.

In places our road was almost impassable, but we reached the top of the first hill and had a view of the next, about three times higher.

We could see very distinctly the zig-zag line of our road, in the red clay between the rocks and stones, and foresaw hard work for ourselves and our animals.

Down we went, and in half an hour after began the new ascent.

We were compelled to leave a mule here, and to divide his pack between two or three other animals.

Soon after, we made the last ascent, most abrupt and trying of all, but from the summit had a magnificent view of a broad plain such as I have never seen surpassed.

On either hand mountain after mountain covered with oak and pine, and contrasts of sun and shade were before us, and the velvety distance ended in a rainbow.

After a heavy descent we encamped on the brink of a little creek, overhung by tall pines.

Here we saw two elks, and Jack Black, mounted on a tired mule thought he could get near enough to have a shot, but after going about two miles, changed his mind.

_July 3d.

_ This morning we started early, and our road along this little stream was beautiful and so quiet that I lagged behind to enjoy it as much as possible, but in a short time we began a stony ascent of two miles, after which came an uncomfortable descent into another beautiful valley, but with poor grass; here we took a short rest, and then continued, reaching, at noon, Tomochic, on a little river of the same name.

The old Mission had only the original tower; the rest of the building is now adobe.

The river here makes a sudden turn from southeast to northwest, and we took it up-stream; it runs through miles of sandstone worn into cliffs and fissures, presenting the most fantastic shapes imaginable, delighting us at every turn.

We looked in vain for fish in the most tempting of eddies and holes, but saw very few; little trout about five inches long were all that rewarded our search.

We crossed and re-crossed this stream twenty-two times in about seven miles, and encamped on a sandy bottom covered with fine pines.

Here I saw Steller's jays and Clement shot one for me; I also saw a fox squirrel, but I could not get it, and do not know its species.

A magnificent hawk flew over us; he had two white bands on his tail—could it be _Falco lagopus_?

_Fourth of July.

Paso Chapadaro.

_ Calm, misty, silent.

The sun soon threw its red light over all we saw to the west, but was hidden by the range of mountains to the east which we had passed, till mastering at an effort, as it seemed, the highest ridge, it burst forth in all its splendor.

In the bottom of my saddle-bags, rolled in a handkerchief, was a flag given me by poor Hamilton Boden, and by the time the haze had gone, it floated in the breeze, from the top of the highest tree near our camp; nature was all in a smile, and we prepared to spend the day according to our various inclinations.

Some slept, some basked in indolence, some started off to look for game, some looked to their saddle-bags and blankets; all was rest, at least from travel, and I unpacked my paper and pencils and made a sketch of the "Fourth of July Camp."

Wild cattle were abundant, and noon saw our camp in possession of a fine heifer shot by Rhoades.

Steaks were broiled and fried, ribs roasted, brains stewed in the skull; delicacies under such circumstances unequalled by the cuisine of a palace.

When evening came, Mess No. 4, all good singers, gave us some beautiful choruses from operas, as well as simpler songs, and as night brought the solemn quiet, and the moon glided in its ordained course, "Old Hundred" was sung with the most solemn feelings of reverence and adoration.

_July 5th.

Gabilana.

_ Four o'clock saw us on our way.

We rode some hours along the valley, rich in grass, shade-trees and springs of delicious water; then came a steep ascent, and most of us had to walk.

We lost another mule today, but before leaving it succeeded in getting it to the table-land at the top of the gorge we had just ascended.

It was a beautiful grove of pines and plenty of short green grass was under foot, and, most welcome sight, a log house looking so like home that a dozen of the boys rode off to see "a white woman;" but their disappointment was great—it was simply the house of a Mexican who had been in Texas some years, and had learned how to live in a little comfort.

_July 6th.

Santa Borgia.

_ The woods today were most luxuriant as we wound round the gorge that commenced again our ascent to some still higher mountains.

Our common robin was abundant, and a large green parrot, with a red head, was seen in every clump of pines, but its uncouth squalling was distracting.

Except the cardinal and other gros-beaks how few birds of splendid plumage have sweet voices.

_July 7th.

Pitochi.

_ Today we have followed one of the most extraordinary gorges we have seen, crossing and winding along the banks of a beautiful little stream, till between giant precipices we had almost the sensation that they might tumble in to fill the gap and crush us.

One particularly fine white cliff, we judged nine hundred feet above us; topped off with high towers of nearly white sandstone, its sharp lines broken by a straggling pine or scraggy cedar, growing in some of the many fissures, it was so grand that we left it with regret.

_July 9th.

Cerro Prieto.

_ I saw today the first water-ousel I ever saw alive in America, and was enchanted with his movements, as he jerked his wren-shaped body with sprightly activity, or with whirring flight went from stone to stone, or suddenly plunged, in the most unnatural manner, into the foaming little torrent, and spread his wings half open, the pinions lowest.

He headed up stream, keeping at the bottom, and went about feeding in the crevices of the rocks with as much ease, if not as rapidly, as a bird in the air.

_July 10th.

_ Early as we start, no one murmurs.

I am writing a few yards apart from Mess No. 12, a queer lot.

Rhoades, who has crossed the plains from Fort Independence to Santa Fé eleven times, and Barrat, a wagoner of the Mexican War, are both very original, and perhaps would not get on well with the others but for Dr. Trask, a truly good man, who is their Captain.

It is a misty morning, fire more of smoke than warmth, tent wet, blankets cold and clammy, and we are waiting for them to dry before packing.

The roll has been called, and each mess is preparing breakfast.

I hear Dr. Trask courteously ask: "Are those plates clean?"

and Rhoades's nonchalant answer: "To be sure they are, didn't we eat off 'em last night."

_July 12th.

Concepcion.

_ Yesterday we passed oaks with a heavy leaf, glazed on the top, so as to look as rich as the magnolia grandiflora of Louisiana.

Raspberries are abundant but not ripe, and strawberries plentiful.

We camped on ground covered with dwarf huckleberries, and a species of plantain of which our mules ate freely, but the horses sparsely.

_July 14th.

_ We commenced our day with the ascent of a steep rocky hill, with the trail cut in by the mules much in the manner of those we had seen before, and the road at first was so steep that we had to lead our horses.

One of our mules gave out completely and we had to leave it on the table land which is almost invariably the apex of these mountains.

A

beautiful grove of pines with short but good grass beneath, made a fine contrast of color.

As we camped our usual storm came on more violent than usual, and we were drenched through.

Lieut.

Browning says: "The claps of thunder and flashes of lightning are very well done in this country."

_July 18th.

_ Our road today was by far the most tedious we have had, being up hill nearly all the time, but the view from the top almost repaid us, if not our mules, for the toil.

We arrived at the highest top near Jesus Maria; miles of mountain tops and peaks of rock and woods are far below us.

Through a gap we looked at clouds blending with the mists below them, until the scene was like an ocean view.

Four hours and a half of most precipitous descent brought us to a luxuriant growth of pine and spruce, and passing through one of the wildest and most picturesque gorges I have ever seen, we came to the extraordinary little town of Jesus Maria, situated at the junction of two little torrents of clear, beautiful water, tumbling in noisy, joyous splashing from rock to basin, and carrying away the rubbish from this half-civilized settlement of miners as it passes through the town.

_July 19th.

Jesus Maria.

_ Gold and silver are both found here, and the rock which contains these ores is soft and easily ground; the most common way of grinding seems to be a flutter wheel fastened to a shaft, which turns on another within the inner circle; this inner one is water tight, and two large stones are pulled round by ropes of rawhide fast to the wheel, which is about three feet from the ground.

These are trailed round and smash the ore for two or three days; it is then dried, pulverized and washed.

Sometimes simple washing, and sometimes with amalgam of quicksilver, gives the result of eight to ten marks of silver to the cargo, viz:—three hundred pounds.

Gold is much more variable in its profits.

Everything used here is brought from the Pacific side, quicksilver, irons, wines and liquors; even flour is sometimes brought, but most of that comes from Sonora which is ten days' travel to the east.

_July 20th.

_ There was no open space large enough for us to picket our mules and pitch our tents in this town (said to contain two thousand inhabitants) and eventually we had to hire the only corral in the place, full of fleas and dirt, for which we had to pay twelve dollars per day.

It is only about seventy yards long and perhaps thirty broad, so that we are very crowded.

We find here three Americans, two Swiss and one Italian, who have for many years resided in this country as traders.

There were a number of Englishmen, owners and superintendents of mines, who all treated us most kindly.

I think the view of Jesus Maria which I give, supersedes the necessity of a verbal description of its situation, but not of the town itself, which is the place of all others that would be selected by a man who had left behind him enemies sworn to vengeance, for two minutes' start up any of the mountains would insure a safe retreat.

Yet the place has its charms; superb rocks, wild passes, and withal a vegetation so luxuriant that with the dozens of birds I could have spent weeks of enjoyment, but we leave tomorrow as we have been here two days.

_July 22d.

_ Leaving the public square yesterday we took a winding alley up the precipitous mountain: two of our mules fell off the trail; one rolled over ten or twelve times, pack and all, and then to our utter amazement got up, having come by a series of falls to a small level space, and began to eat.

[Illustration: JESUS MARIA, LOOKING NORTHWEST _July 20, 1849_] We spent four hours going six miles to where the rear of the company encamped; thirty mules and thirteen men went six miles further, and Mr. Browning found himself with three men, four miles ahead of all, with no other assistance, and eighteen mules to care for.

These distances between us are the result of the unequal strength of our mules, and one mule and a horse left behind us.

A drizzling rain came up as night fell, and we had a miserable night.