Audubon's Western Journal: 1849-1850 — Across The Mexican Mountains To Altar Part 2

_July 23d.

_ Limestone, sandstone, and huge masses of amalgam of gravel and sand, with quartz, have been all about us.

The small plants are numerous; ferns everywhere, a beautiful scarlet honeysuckle is very plentiful, spruce, pine, balsam fir, hemlock and pitch-pine are all seen; our swamp alder grows here to great size, looking like black beech.

Raspberries are as good as in Maine, and very abundant in many of the ravines and valleys.

The magnificent oak with glossy leaves is here too, and a new species of reed, a perfect miniature of our large cane of the west.

Steller's jay, a titmouse, and, I think, a crossbill, have been seen, but no parrots such as we saw to the east of Jesus Maria.

Mists and fogs hang over the mountains, and the air is cold and damp unless the sun shines, and then it is very hot.

Deep, indeed, is the solitude of this grand country, for but little animation is seen.

Often as I sit sketching or writing I hear only the chirp of some cricket, or distant scream of a hawk to tell me that living things are about me.

_July 25th.

_ We have been feasting on venison, here very plentiful, and much sought after by the men, to such an extent indeed that Nicholas Walsh having wounded a deer yesterday, which was both misty and cloudy, followed it over hill and dale and lost himself.

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.

[Illustration: 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.

At the bottom of the hill we both bathed in the little torrent that waters the beautiful valley; at times it is two or three hundred yards wide, and again compressed so much as only just to leave room to let the stream through.

Its chilly bracing foam sent a sparkle through us as if bathing in soda water, and we may boast of having had such a bath as few can enjoy, unsurpassed for its freshness, and in the very heart of the southern Rocky mountains, perhaps a spot never seen by any other white men.

_August 6th, Trinidad.

_ The loss of mules, a few terrific passes, and here and there a valley of extreme beauty brought us to the western ridge of the chain of mountains leading down to Trinidad, a little old, worn-out place, having only some few hundred inhabitants, the town itself containing some stores like those we have come across everywhere from Davis's Rancho to Jesus Maria.

At Trinidad there are three Frenchmen, one the Alcalde, the other two traders, dealing in everything from horses to a single tallow candle.

They also sell quantities of muscalle, which is taken mainly for the love of the alcohol, for any dose of medicine would be as palatable, and in this hot country probably more beneficial, certainly less injurious.

I asked one of the Frenchmen, now so long a resident that he had almost forgotten his own language, what induced him to live in such a country.

His answer was short and to the point: "The love of gold."

"Have you found it?"

I asked.

"No," was his reply, "but I cannot return without it."

So it is with many of all nations, who, lured by the stories of fortunes easily made, come to this part of the earth and grow more and more lazy and indolent, until they have become unfit for the active, energetic industry requisite in happier and more enlightened portions of the world.

The people here simply vegetate; many of them drink, and are depraved in many ways.

Some seem happy with their Mexican wives, who, however, are neither as handsome nor as clever as quadroons.

Nature is beautiful at every turn, now in bird and beast, then in tree and flower, then in rock and rill: how pained I am to pass them all by;

but the position into which I have been forced demands every hour, and I am never my own master.

_August 8th.

Santa Rosa.

_ Today I passed three partridges and two doves, warblers and flycatchers without number, all new, and many most beautiful.

Santa Rosa where we are camped is a beautifully situated little village, with a silver mine as its chief interest.

There are some fine horses here, possessing more of the Arabian look than any I have seen before in Mexico.

With great regret, I exchanged my old favorite Monterey for a mare here worth six or eight dollars.

With all my care of Monterey, I could not save his back, and I felt as if parting with a friend, when with his majestic stride, his ears set forward, giving to his small head and curved neck an expression of excitement and fierceness peculiarly his own, he almost sailed through our camp, and winding down a pass leading to the village, left me gazing at the spot where I had seen him last.

There is fine grass and plenty of water, and I was told he had gone to a kind master, an Englishman who had drifted out here.

_August 10th.

_ We left our camp after great difficulty in getting our mules together, and at six camped again, fifteen miles only, on our way, for it has been up and down hill all the time.

The sunny side of the hills is always very hot to us, and trying to our poor mules.

We passed many changes of vegetation but musquit is still the prominent portion.

One tree we saw had a large fruit five or six inches long, hanging like a pear; it contained seed, laid in like those of the milkweed, and we were told the cotton-like substance which enclosed the seeds was used for candlewick.

Here we saw the first large cacti I had seen of the cylindrical form; some of them are apparently forty feet high.

If in a shaded situation, they have only one or two shoots, while others in open ground have perhaps fifty, but smaller and less luxuriant, being only six or eight inches in diameter, instead of four or more.

_August 11th.

_ Coming down the creek our second day's descent we opened into a wide arroyo of sometimes two hundred yards, with water running through it, and again the water disappeared and the dry parched bottom sent up a heat such as I do not recollect having ever felt before.

I saw the men fag, get down and tumble on the grass at the sides, whenever a shady spot could be found, and the poor mules seemed completely exhausted.

Many of us became sick at our stomachs from the effects of the intense contrast in temperature, for we had left an atmosphere like that of Maine, for the tropics.

We saw a storm coming up and for once wished it to hasten; but we had no rain, only a gust of its cooling breeze, and we gladly left our trying surroundings for a delightful shade and green grass.

_August 14th.

_ We have had the same sort of travelling today; we came to the Yaqui River, a muddy stream at this season, about two hundred yards wide and so deep that we had to employ canoes to carry over our cargoes;

the canoes are paddled by Mexicans (no great boatmen, by the way); the mules and horses we swam over, having passed Tomochi [Tonichi]; the little town is said to be four days' travel from Ures; it is about three quarters of a mile from the river, and it is a deserted mining place of a few adobe houses.

Here, as usual, was sold muscalle, a few freholes [frejoles][19] and wheaten tortillas.

Only once have I seen pulque, at a small distillery of muscalle.

_August 15th.

Soyopa.

_ Leaving the Rio Yaqui for its little tributaries, which are sometimes above ground, and sometimes below, running over the sands, or disappearing underneath them, we encamped in a quiet cool spot, to rest after the great heat of the sunny sides of the hills we had left and the arroyos made by mountain torrents where we were nearly suffocated, and we look forward to the plains of the Gulf of California and the sea breeze that sweeps them, with anticipations of delight.

Alas!

an occasional thunderstorm is all that gives coolness to the atmosphere here, for the puffs of land breeze only tantalize and do not cool.

I tried here to buy or trade horses, and regret I did not get one I saw, but the straightened circumstances of the company compelled me to give up the idea.

_August 17th.

_ We passed a large rancho of about a hundred and fifty men and their squaws, for nearly all were Indians, and camped six miles further on; but as night came on thieves came too, whether Mexicans or Apaches I know not, but we have never encountered bolder ones.

Hinckley, Havens, Sloat, Valentine and Boggs were on guard, all good men, but of no avail, four double barrelled guns and two pistols were taken, one from under Boggs' very eyes—how, no one could tell.

We looked for the trail and found it, large feet and small moccasins and barefooted; but the dew was unswept from the grass outside the camp, so the theft must have been earlier in the night: we could recover nothing, though four of our best men went back; so after a fruitless search of some hours we left for Ures, and at three o'clock entered into a series of hills and valleys so beautiful in form and color, so fresh and green that our spring could not equal them.

Many of Cole's[20] pictures were brought to mind.

_August 22d.

Ures.

_ Three days' travel over a prairie sometimes covered with chaparral, and sometimes with grass brought us here.

We are greatly disappointed; Ures, the capital of Sonora, with its Governor and military, Alcalde and court, is an adobe village of about four thousand Indians, and still they have power, and the Alcalde proved himself a man of considerable ability.

Coming down the mountains to the Rio Yaqui, we left coolness for heat.

First we saw Turkey Buzzards, and lower down the Carrion Crow; still farther down we came to the table prairies and there were the Carra Carra Eagles[21] in great numbers; sometimes we saw fifty in a day, so that birds mark the altitude.

The mocking-bird, raven and jay of the mountains are with us no more.

I have found the plumed partridge plentiful, one with a black breast and guinea-fowl spots; but they are less numerous here and I fear will soon be seen no more.

We are told gold abounds in the surrounding mountains, but the Apaches are so bad that it cannot be secured; however, the exaggerations of these people are so amazing, that we do not believe their tales; if we did it would be useless to leave here, as we could never live to reach our destination, there are so many difficulties; one great one is always with us, that is our poor mules, which fail daily.

_August 28th.

_ Some gentlemen today presented me with a large glass jar of peaches, beautifully preserved; there must have been at least a gallon, and we were so very grateful, for we become very weary of our monotonous fare of coarse bread made from unbolted flour, beef or game, half cooked often, and eaten from tin plates or the frying pan, and tin cups for coffee, if we have it.

We heard here one piano, but the same peculiar nasal twang pervades the singing of the whole of Northern Mexico.

On the journey here we lost eight mules and horses, and but for Clement I should have been hard pressed for the latter for Barratt.

Clement exchanged his horse for two Mexican ones, which he procured from Mr. Gabilondo.

The very next day I heard Clement's horse was dead, so I went at once to see Mr. Gabilondo.

He said he had sold the horse and a bargain was a bargain, and that probably the animal had eaten something poisonous; however, revenge was talked of by all the men, and I found a fine looking mule in our train very mysteriously.

To my question as to where the mule came from, I was told he had been "traded for;" I told the man who was riding him that he would have to bear all risks, and he cheerfully said he would; and so he did, for when the owner came forward, with his brand in hand—the voucher, in this country, of ownership—he was told very politely that the trade had been made for a pair of pistols (a pair that had been stolen four days previously), and he could not return the mule unless the pistols were forthcoming.

There was a good deal of "Carambo,"[22] etc. , but the train moved on through half the rabble of Ures, some of whom laughed, some swore.

_August 30th.

_ Leaving Ures the country is more level; to the southeast is a large plain covered with musquit of a different species from that on the eastern side, and not quite so thorny; the large cactus of the mountains is not found here, two smaller species taking its place.

I did not leave Ures until five p. m.

, when the train was five or six miles ahead of me.

I rode slowly along the swampy lane leading north from the town, bordered with heavy hedges of reeds and chaparral, with, from time to time, a cactus, a palm, or a cabbage tree breaking the line of the horizon.

One tall palm, stiff and formal, was standing out very distinctly in the soft light between moonrise and sunset.

Large flocks of the yellow troupial in noisy bustle settling themselves in the rushes and willows bordering the little stream we are now fording, brought to my mind many an evening return home.

Two or three miles of this travelling brought me to the first sandy tableland, and the dull monotony of a road shut in by chaparral continued until I came to the camp, low-spirited and tired, and longing for the end of this toilsome journey; perhaps the fact that Osgood, Plumb and Brown having left us at Ures to go by way of Mazatlan with another company, may have had more to do with my depression than other circumstances.

Here, in the heart of the Indian country, with the watchword "Apache," in the mouth of every Mexican, and our guard rigid, we are toiling on through an interesting country.

The large cactus, given by Fremont or Abert,[23] we met here in great luxuriance, having a centre of pulpy pith surrounded by a number of long hearts, one for each ridge of the meat, or pulp, of the plant.

If I only had time, how I should enjoy making drawings of all this, but I cannot.

_September 2d.

_ Two days out from Ures we came to some Pimos Indians washing gold from black ore, which they said produced well; we found some lumps of ore in the dust, all of irregular shapes.

The value is only about one real (about ten cents) for each bushel of dirt.

Each man made about two dollars a day.

We had fine grass and pond water here, and are off for Altar.

_September 9th.

Altar.

_ We reached this place yesterday after eight days journey over barren, sandy hills exactly like these which surround this town.

What an eight days it has been, I hate to recall to my mind even by writing these brief notes.

Half of us are on foot, our clothes are ragged and torn, and we have lived on half rations, often less, of beans, and what we _call_ bread.

Several days we were twenty and twenty-four hours without water, no grass for our horses, and inexpressibly weary _always_.

Yet we are well and not as much depressed as might be supposed, and while we are short of nearly everything, money included, our courage is in no degree lessened.

Altar is a miserable collection of adobe houses, with perhaps a thousand inhabitants; there are only one or two grandees here, but nearly all are of Indian mixture.

At one of the little villages through which we passed, La Nada, we had all the town about us, admiring our white (?

) faces, and asking hundreds of questions, many of the girls had pretty Indian faces, and beautiful teeth and hair.

Great quantities of peaches grow in the valleys and irrigated gardens, but what comfort there is is very primitive.

Plenty of the California partridge are here, but the black-breasted is nowhere to be seen; the California quail is found, and Gamble's blue partridge.

I saw yesterday the most wonderful rainbow, or rather mass of prismatic mist; a heavy thunderstorm, one of the most furious we have encountered, took us just as we had left a rancho, formerly an old Mission, with a very fine reservoir two hundred yards square, built of stone and the exhaust arch of brick, and we rode on in drenching rain for nearly an hour.

The storm abated just before sunset, leaving all of the west, below the lifting clouds, of that indescribable, furious red, which follows such blows, and the receding storm receiving the light and blending into an immense mass of rainbow haze.

The people here are not at all friendly to us, and instead of having them come out to see us at our camp, as at other places, often in such numbers as to be a nuisance, we find them cold, and almost uncivil.

We are not looked upon with the same interest as heretofore, and could neither buy nor beg what we required for our use.

We, however, succeeded with some difficulty in getting good flour and pinole, at eight and ten dollars per cargo.

We had to make a kiln and burn the wood for charcoal, which we needed to make horseshoes, and we paid sixty-two and a half cents a pound for the only bar of iron we could find.