Chapter 3 of Audubon's Western Journal, 1849-1850, by John Woodhouse Audubon. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 3 Mexico from the Rio Grande to the Mountains April 28, 1849. The company started today, and I expect to follow early tomorrow, and join the men who are now fifteen miles ahead of me. I am compelled to remain to attend to the property of the ten men who have died of cholera in this accursed place. It goes to New Orleans by boat in the morning. Why Colonel Webb, who had been in this country before, selected this route instead of a more northerly one, I cannot understand, but it is now too late to change, and we must go forward with courage. April 29, Canales Run We are on our way, having come to Taravo, beautiful for its old mission, and curious in its irrigating canals, bridges, and old church. Still, it has the apathetic lassitude of everything Mexican. We rode on to Robert's Rancho over underlating waste of hard, unprofitable soil. The palmettoes are here by the Thousand, and their fantastic shapes give the appearance of horsemen of gigantic size, riding through grass almost as tall. May 1, Robert's Rancho, once a fine hacienda, was burned by the Americans in the last war for the rascality of its owners. It is on a beautiful plain, but brush has grown up in the now neglected fields and always in ruins. Here we came near losing Lieutenant Browning from cholera, but he was saved by Dr. Trast's indefatigable exertions. May 12, near Monterey. We have been here four days, having horses and mules shod, and I will take my pencil notes and write up my journal to date. We were at Robert's Rancho a week, waiting for Bachman, Emsley, and Carroll, who had been left with Doubleday. As soon as they rejoined us, we moved on to Papagallos, then to Ramos, where we met some French traders with a long grain of mules and their cargos. Ramos was followed by Marin and Aquafrio, all present at a dilapidated appearance, very different from what was seen when the country was under the fine system of irrigation, and the remains of past opulence everywhere saddened the traveler. We reached Walnut Springs, five miles from Monterey, on the 8th of May, and are taking needed rest in the shade of the Spanish Walnuts and enjoying the delightful water, which bursts out in a fountain of six to eight feet wide and about a foot deep, clear but not cool, yet pleasant to drink. Monterey is at the base of a range of mountains which surrounded on all sides except to the north. Its entrance over bridges, many of them very picturesque, shows abundance of water which irrigates the beautiful valley for miles beyond Molino. Where did I hope to be at this date? Yet here we are scarcely started, one month lost in sickness and sorrow, and one in the reorganization of our company. We are full two months behind our reckoning and on a route of which I never approved, but which, when I took command, we were already compelled to pursue. We are having the horses and mules shod for their feet are so tender we cannot continue without. We travel, usually 20 or 25 miles a day, as the chance for water and forage for our horses occurs. The uncertainty of provisions is such that we have to carry corn for one or two feeds ahead which adds considerably to the weight of our packs and gives us a good deal of trouble. As I sit here I hear the notes of many new birds as well as those well known, and the sky overhead is bluer than any Italy ever presented to me. Monterey, where I have been several times, is an improvement on the other Mexican towns we visited, but full of foreigners of all nations come to prey on the ignorance of the poor inhabitants. All now seems well regulated, but I dread shortness of provisions, and we have to be very careful. I have not heard from home since the date of February 19, and now must wait, I fear, until we reach, if we ever do reach, the Pacific coast. The company are all tired, the work is new, and it takes time to become accustomed to the broken night's rest. At midnight I take the rounds of our camp in moonlight, starlight, or darkness, to see that all is well, and that none relax in vigilance, so requisite to safety in this country of thieves. This gives me only six hours of sleep, for after we have had supper it is eight o'clock, and we get up at four a.m., so that taking out the two hours nightly reduces me to that amount. But habit is second nature. If you hear of any more men coming to California overland, tell them three shirts, six pairs of socks, one coat, one great coat, two pairs of trousers, and two pairs of boots should be all the personal luggage. No man should bring more than he can carry. I have had quite a scene with the alcohol to hear. Our camp was infested with pigs, which came from every direction, every morning and evening, when we fed our horses and mules. Of course we could not see them robbed, stones and hatchets were abundant, and some pistols went off, which the boys declared did so accidentally. We could not find the owners, so I went to the Alcalda to pay for them, taking an Italian boy as interpreter. The boy, instead of saying what I told him, which was simply to ask the value and pay it, added, on his own account, that if his honor was not satisfied with what we gave, we would come in and take the town. Naturally, the Alcalda resented this, and I found my little bag of bond had been telling his own story, not mine. Upon matters being explained by a more trustworthy source, the Alcalda was perfectly content and bowed me out with much courtesy. The adroitness of the Mexicans in thieving equals that of the rascals at Naples. In two instances pistols have been taken from the holsters, whilst the owners held the bridles of their horses. All this has tended to excite revenge, and without good discipline outbreaks of temper might have occurred, which would undoubtedly have brought us into trouble, as happened with several other companies on the road to Mazatlán. Satiyo, May 20. Here we are, thank God, fairly on our way, and at present, in good health and spirits. We travel about twenty-five miles a day, but have great difficulty in keeping our horses and mules in good order, as there is no grass for grazing purposes, and corn varying in quality, but always high in price, from one dollar to fifty cents per bushel. When we left Monterey, we followed the road to Rencanada, which is a beautifully located rancho well-watered and with a long avenue of pollard poplars or cottonwoods, the bulls not more than ten or fifteen feet high, so that the flowery gusts are like little hurricanes for a few seconds, and which come from the mountains which surround the place in every direction, cannot blow them down. Here we saw the first magua plants, from the juice of which pulque is made, and afterwards, mescal distilled. Mescal in taste is more like creosote and water, slightly sweetened, than anything I could compare it to, and I suppose it is about as wholesome. The peons who do the work of the hacienda are completely Indian in character, appearance, and habits, sometimes marvelous in their strength and activity, and sometimes surprising us with their unsurpassed laziness. The women, patient things like all squaws, carry wood, water, and do all the household labor. From this beautiful little amphitheater among the hills, we wound along parched arroyos and valleys, and I could not but be struck with the wise provision of nature for the protection of its creations. Almost all the trees have tap roots, or if fibrous, they run so deep in search of moisture that they are often longer than the tree is high. In the arroyos, where the earth was often washed from the roots, I had a good opportunity of confirming my conclusions. We proceeded up a deep ravine until we began the ascent of the famed Pass of Rencanada, intended to be defended by Santa Anna, but abandoned when our troops approached. How any force of military could have deserted such a position, I cannot conceive, for the unfinished fort commands the road for two miles, at least. The view from the fort was most superb, but we were tired of mountains and long for shade and woods. Crossing this pass we had our first indication of increasing altitude, and above us on the rocks were pines and cedars. They had the showers we longed for and saw passing while almost smothered in dust, our hair and whiskers white with it, and we looked like a troop of grey veterans. We approached Satio over a broad plain, dotted with ranchos for some miles before we reached the town, which we entered through lanes of adobe walls, and finally came to the principal street, and commenced the ascent of the hill on which the town proper stands. It is all Mexican in its character, one-story houses, flat roofed, and having a fortified look as if no one trusted his neighbor. The public square is a fine one, and the cathedral front, the most beautiful I have seen, on this side of the Atlantic. The workmen who did the carving came from Spain, and the stone from the Rocky Mountains, so goes the story. Satio has many good points, it is clean, well-regulated, and has better buildings than any I have seen except in Monterey. Yet we pushed on and have made our camp at Buena Vista, six miles further on. My mountains bound our view on every side. Buena Vista had its battle, and few of us but have had some friend or acquaintance sleeping there. Paras, May 28. I shall never forget the Buena Vista camp the night of the 23rd and 24th. It was the night previous to our departure for this place. The guard was slow in coming out. Montrose Graham was guard over my tent, that watch, and as Simpson called his guard to order and faced me, where I had risen up to see who were changing, George Weed let his rifle fall.  In falling the head of the hammer struck the ground first, and as if the trigger had been pulled it went off. An exclamation came from either side, one, Mr. Ottomans killed, the other from me, who's hurt. A groan from poor Graham was the answer. We were all hurry for lights and water and the doctor. All loved Graham. He was the handsome man of the original party of 98, just 22, and the captain of his tent, the hailstorm mess, so-called by Lieutenant Browning, from its go-ahead principles. The ball had passed through his ankle, and both doctors Perry and Tras said he could not go on for some weeks. So it was decided to leave his cousin to mullineer with him, a more practical physician than most of his age, and as much money as we could spare that they could follow us or return home, as seemed most judicious. Frank Carroll, as good a man as I ever wish on such an expedition, found accommodations for Graham and remained with him at Satio. How we parted from them only those can know who have been compelled to leave friends in a strange land. For several days our road continued over long hills and parched valleys, and on the last day of this travel we had a most extraordinary view. We had climbed a hill not more than 300 feet high, but very steep, and reached a broad plain, five or six miles wide, but much longer. On every side was a chain of sterile volcanic mountains. It was, for one view, most wonderful. It looked as if an immense lake that threatened to cover the mountains had suddenly been changed to earth. Crossing this plain and rounding one of the desolate peaks, we came to the Hacienda of Don Immanuel Iavarez, who has five hundred pions at work. The water used for irrigation, without which nothing could be grown, is brought in an adobe aqueduct for several miles. It is an old settlement, and very dirty, abounding in fleas and vermin of all descriptions. Yet when one comes to a Hacienda with water all around, brought from some mountain stream, the contrast between the desolate land we have traveled and the exuberant luxuriance of vines, figs, and magua gives a beauty which almost makes me, with my hatred of everything Mexican, admire our surroundings. Mockingbirds are all around us, and could I linger to explore? I have no doubt I could have added many new birds to my list, but with cholera hanging round, breaking out in a mild form it is true, at every place we stop at, we must push on. We daily pass cacti of three species, as well as miles of aloes, yet not enough nourishment to feed a horse in the whole of them, and through this country we start tomorrow for Chihuahua. We have 157 mules and horses and 57 men, and are in good spirits. We hear Chihuahua is our best route, but we may have different information at Paral and go through Sonora. May 29th Paras is, like all Mexican towns, I have seen a few French and Americans, some with a Mexican wife, others with a housekeeper, but all indolent, keeping little stores and warehouses, and making immense profits. It is celebrated, for wines and brandy, made principally by foreigners. May 30th At three o'clock this morning I was taken with sharp pains, nausea, and other symptoms of cholera, and for the first time was obliged to ride in the ambulance, but towards evening was able to be up again, though very much debilitated. June 2nd We left Paras at five this morning, and at dusk reached El Paso, and camped on a gravelly hill. For miles a barren desert lined both sides of our road, until we came to a swamp-tracked, with extraordinary luxuriance of rank weeds, no grass, and passing this entered a dismal thicket of chaperon. June 3rd Sunday We left El Paso at eight this morning, and rode until ten, when we reached a deserted rancho, and with some trouble encamped near a river-bed with waterholes along it. A beautiful lagoon with waterholes a hundred yards long enabled us all to take refreshing baths, and I watched with pleasure the languid flight of the great blue heron, changing his position as he was approached. Two Mexicans, hunting cattle, came to us here, and Lieutenant Browning bought a wild mule, for which he gave a few dollars and a broken-down mule. June 2nd, question mark, again we have been through swamp-like country, crossed the dry bed of a river with white sand glaring painfully in our faces, and found acres of wild sunflowers and patches of what looked like whorehound. Then we came to a cotton-wood bottom, gradually changing to a golden willow, which grew so luxuriously on both sides of the road that I was reminded of the rich bottomlands of Ohio. At noon we came to Alamito, a large rancho, or small village of scoundrels. In bargaining for water, which is only to be had from wells, we found the men who had it for sale were making their own terms with our rascally guide, and Simpson stepped up and began talking to them. They pretended they could not understand, but on my tapping my revolver they instantly became most intelligent. Here we had the first attempt at a stampede made upon us.  Horses and mules, keen of scent and hearing, receive warnings of danger through both faculties, and are so frightened they will break any ordinary fastening. No matter which way they go the vagabonds are such beautiful riders they soon turn the herd to any course they like and make their escape. For those robbed have nothing to follow on. For even if a few animals are left the speed of the thieves can never be equaled. In this instant our vigilant guard saved us. What would have become of us if they had not, I dare not think. June 7th, Mapimi. After a ride of twenty leagues we reached this place last night, just before twelve, and lay down without food for either ourselves or our horses, and the poor animals had only had water once that day. The journey had been well enough, from time to time we enjoyed a pleasant shade through a larger grove of mesquite than common, and again the country was bare of all vegetation.  This is a mining-town and has several smelting furnaces where charcoal is used, lead and about an ounce of silver to every hundred pounds of ore is produced, so the silver pays for the smelting and in some of the mines a copper is found. The furnaces externally are picturesque, not high, but with eccentric peaks, mitre-shaped and harmonizing well with the rugged mountains which surround this dirty little town, where eagerness and dirt, dogs and fleas abound. June 9. We rested a day at Mapime and reached La Cadena this evening, having come nine leagues. We shall stay here tomorrow to have the tires of our wagons set and to rest. This rancho has a fortified appearance and mounts one small cannon. It looks able to resist a heavy attack from the Indians. The road to this place is almost level for twenty miles. When entering a gorge with abundant grass it winds up a gradual ascent for two or three miles and to the west we had a grand view in the middle of which stood the hacienda. A long front of white wall, a tower at each end, with the usual archway in the center over which was mounted a small brass piece, made the whole show of the establishment and though formidable to the Apaches, who are about here in numbers, to us was only picturesque. Today we lost two of our best horses with cholera, the poor beast suffering so much in the manner that men do, that it was painful to have our own troubles brought back so forcibly to our minds. June 10. We left for Pantia at eight last night. It was eleven leagues distant and being a deserted rancho no food could be had there, so we intended watering at the place, taking a short rest, then going seven leagues farther to Las Acas. Two hours after we started the moon rose behind us and truly we presented a most picturesque appearance. Some in coats, some in blankets, Mexican fashion, others in shooting jackets. We grew very tired and longed for sleep, but it was not to be taken except on horseback. We stopped for an hour to graze our horses and mules and rode past the deserted rancho without stopping to water and came to Las Acas having had our poor animals under the saddle for twenty hours, during which we made sixty-four miles, ourselves only having to eat what we had expected for one meal. As we came up the mountains that overlooked this plane we saw the first antelopes, and I was at one time within two hundred yards of three, but I did not shoot and was never so near again. Many black-tailed hare have been seen and shot and their variety of pelage would make twenty species. June 12. Today, Sunday, we are resting men and animals and tranquility is all about us. These long journeys are very injurious to our horses. One such long trip leaves them much more jaded and impoverished than two shorter trips, even though as now we always take a day's rest. Las Acas is beautiful to look at, the center of attraction being a fine clump of cotton-woods letting the white walls of the hacienda shine through them. We bought a beef, gilded, and our meal was speedily cooked and eaten. Ranging day after day on the same desolate scene rendered so only by the want of rain rarely camped in shade, this journey became wearisome beyond belief. The broad plane on which this rancho is situated once grazed six thousand head of horse, all owned by one person, but when the Spanish government was given up for no government, which is the case now, Indians and Mexicans supplied themselves with stolen horses in abundance. June 13th. From Las Acas to Cerro Gordo, the country is flat and uninteresting, barren in most places of all but mesquite bushes. Every mile or so for the first few leagues we crossed, a beautiful little brook, which was, however, gradually absorbed by the thirsty sand, a water-hole and bed of sand appearing alternately until the water wholly disappeared. We made two days' journey of it, going the first day, eighteen miles, where we found good grazing on partially dry grass, better for horses and mules than corn alone, which half the time has been all we could get for them. Our most serious trouble now is the sore backs of our mules produced by the pack-saddles, which were made in our own country and are too broad for the backs of the Mexican mules. Cerro Gordo is a miserable den of vagabonds with nothing to support it but its petty garrison of a hundred and fifty cavalry mounted on mules. We were hooted and shouted at as we passed through and called gringos, etc., but that did not prevent us from enjoying their delicious spring water. It was cool and delightful. Our men rushed to it and drank two pint-cups full each, hardly breathing, between times. It was the first good water we had had since leaving the Mississippi. Here we were visited by a member of a Mexican traveling circus who asked our protection as far as El Valle, which we promised them. The party consisted of five, one woman and four men. The lady rode, as we used to say in Louisiana, leg of a side on a small pacing pony. The two horses of the ring carried only their saddles, two pack mules, four small trunks, and four jaded horses the rest of the plunder. The four men went, one on foot, driving the packs and continually refitting and repacking, the other three riding. One man had two Chihuahua dogs about six inches long stuffed in his shirt bosom, another a size larger on the pommel of his saddle. The second man was in a grand Spanish costume on a small but blooded gray horse with a large Dragoon sword on his left, and a Mexican musket made about seventeen hundred would have added to an antiquary's armory. They told us they had everything they owned with them, so that if alone and attacked by the Apaches, whom we hear of continually, but never see, their loss would be a very serious one to them. We left Cerro Gordo at eight a.m. and ascended steadily uphill for about two miles. The country poor and uninteresting, and the miles seemed to stretch out interminably. We are now camped at El Noria. June 15th, Rio Forita. We are repaid for our tiresome journey by the shade and refreshment we find here. The old mission is the most commodious we have seen, built of nearly white marble, the four pillars next to the church richly carved, and almost perfect. When the old priests had this broad valley tilled and irrigated by the convert Indians, it must have indeed been a scene of luxurious growth, and they no doubt lived in great comfort, if isolation. Still the place is inland, and indolence there as everywhere in Mexico reigns supreme. So fell Rio Forita. June 17th. From Rio Forita to El Valle, ten leagues, our road in places has been most beautiful, undulating plains like those of Texas, and we saw the first streaks of iron mixed with the limestone which for weeks we have been traveling through. We shall be glad of any change, for our lips are cracked and so sore as to give pain and discomfort all the time, while our hands are cracked and split as in midwinter. Here at El Valle, sometimes called Bia Valle, we are encamped in a grove of cotton woods which I should say had been planted forty or fifty years ago, and the gardens when irrigated must have been most luxuriant. We are now in an iron district and the walls of the Jacals have changed from white to red. The hillsides too have changed in color. Some are reddish and bare, others gray, from dead grass and lime underneath. Bia, or El Valle, is situated on another of those beautiful creeks that from time to time occur in this part of Mexico. It contains a motley crowd, doubtful of face and of character, largely half-breeds and speaking Spanish, so murdered into patois that Lieutenant Browning, a fluent Spanish scholar, was some time learning to understand their language. Our circus party left us here. The woman, who was really the queen of the show, came to thank us for our protection, which she did most gracefully and gave us a courteous invitation to her show and Fandango, the termination to every Mexican entertainment, wedding, christening, and even battle. I could not go, but several of the party did, and pronounced the signeritas quite good-looking. June 18, Paral. Halfway between El Valle and Paral, at a rancho on one of the bends of the Rio Florida, is a most splendid specimen of meteoric iron, almost pure in quality. It is, at its highest point, four feet above the ground, and from two to five feet one way, by two to three the other, very irregular. Where it is worn by the passers-by, rubbing their hands, it is bright, and looks like a lump of pure ore. A long, steep zigzag descent, rocky beyond belief, and painful to our poor mules, many of which had lost shoes, brought us into Paral, which is wild and picturesque in situation, as well as in buildings, but yet desolate. The balcony, so to speak, built in front of the silver mines, high on the sides of the mountains, which entirely surround the town, give it a fortified appearance and convey the idea of a respectability which we have not seen since we left Satio. We skirted the town and our encamped on the banks of the river or creek that runs through the center. Our tents were soon in place and guard set, for we were immediately surrounded by at least a hundred idlers. While talking to some Americans, Lieutenant Browning had his pistol stolen from his holster, while standing within three feet of his mule. This makes the fifth lost in this way. He drew his revolver and ordered the crowd off, and in an instant the ground was clear, and the fear that characterizes these miserable creatures was shown as they hurried off, holding their hats to shield the back of their heads. We are comparatively speaking camped in a paradise, for we have polluted cotton-woods to give a shade, a dashing little brook, and an aviary of birds to enliven or calm, to cheer and encourage us, and are in real enjoyment of rest from fatigue and pain, all but my thigh which is very painful from the presence of a large boil. June 20th, Peral So far our prospects ahead are good, and we have determined not to take the Chihuahua route, but the mountain one, from this to Jesus Maria, and so on, as we are informed from the best authorities, that we can go that way without suffering from want of water or food, and arrive at the mouth of the Gila, not three hundred miles upstream. We are told of both routes by those who have personally traveled them, and learned that by taking to the mountains we shall be in pine forests, and that deer and bear are frequently found, so that we shall be able to have some variety from the monotonous fare of no meat or only tough beef, which we have had for three months. It would have been well had we not encountered cholera, and lost that never to be caught up with time at Davis's rancho, and no party would have beaten us over. We have passed the Comanche Country, and now have to be on our guard against the Apaches. No one knows how constantly I miss my dear friend Dr. Garny, in times like these, especially when a deviation from our contemplated route is in question. The country we have passed through is desolate in the extreme, parched, arid, barren, except where irrigated. Peral is a mining town where silver is found, but there is no proper machinery for satisfactory work. There are about seven thousand inhabitants of the usual mixed variety. June 27th, 1849. Here at Peral we have found some Americans, and, as ever, friends among them, Mr. Hicks and Mr. Miller in particular. But here, unfortunately, Hinkley, Liskam, and Teller were taken ill, and our departure was delayed. Teller was very ill from the first with a sort of cholera. We took him into the town for better accommodation and rest, but he sank rapidly. We were unable to save him and could only alleviate his sufferings. His cousin and myself watched over him with heavy hearts, and depression again settled heavily on our camp. End of Chapter 3 Chapter 4 of Audubon's Western Journal, 1849-1850, by John Woodhouse Audubon. This Libervox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 4 Across the Mexican Mountains to Altar. Part 1 June 28th, left Peral at noon, leaving Carol, E. A. Lambert, J. S. Lambert, J. Black, Penny Packer, and Joseph Lambert to follow after burying poor Teller. Before this we had sold our Jersey wagon for two hundred and seventy-five dollars, and I refused two hundred and fifty dollars for two mules, as I did not dare to start shorthanded 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 from all. We rode until six this evening, at twenty miles, when another terrific storm coming on, we camped on a grassy flat among mesquite 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 parle 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 twenty-ninth, 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 assent we had made for some time. Had we not been told that Lasarca 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 discoloured 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 Arvavite, 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, Simpson, Mallory, and Penny Packer 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 thirtieth, a fine morning, as we had no fresh meat, we took a little bacon, our never-failing standby, and going on came to and camped two miles beyond. Here we bought a six-month-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 first. Again our road was uphill and most dangerous, so most of us walked, but with all our care nearly lost two mules by missteps. The narrow passes are so worn by the trains of packed mules that, to secure 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 second. 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. Liskum was taken ill today with dysentery, and we feared we should lose him. Tone put him on his horse, the easiest we had, and Carol 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 a 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 Liskum, 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 Liskum on and crossed the conscious river, called by the natives of course, the 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 Carol, 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 Paras. 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 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, larksfers, sweet Williams. Nettles six feet high, their blue flowers almost hiding the rich green of their stinging leaves, extend sometimes for miles along the sandbars. 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 Stellar'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 and all mood. Corn, one and a half to three dollars of Feneja, 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.  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 Taramari tribe and our guide said we're 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 2nd. We wound along the meanderings of the River Verde, sometimes smooth and again a dashing torrent, and reached El Rancho Arishi, deserted by its original owners. It is worked by Taramari Indians and owned now by someone 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 zigzag 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 elk 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 3rd. 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 to Mochik 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 upstream. It runs through miles of sandstone worn into cliffs and fishers, 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 recrossed this stream twenty-two times in about seven miles and encamped on a sandy bottom covered with fine pines. Here I saw Stellar's Jays and the Clement shop 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 Lagopis? 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 Bowden, 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 bathed in indolence, some started off to look for game, some looked to their saddlebags 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 roads. Stakes were broiled and fried, ribs roasted, brains stewed in the skull, delicacies under such circumstances, unequaled by the cuisine of a palace. When evening came, mess number four, 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 fifth, cabalana. 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 underfoot, 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 sixth, santa borschia. 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 growth beaks, how few birds of splendid plumage have sweet voices. July seventh, pitocchi. 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 900 feet above us, topped off with high towers of nearly white sandstone, its sharp lines broken by a straggling pine or scraggie cedar, growing in some of the many fissures, it was so grand that we left it with regret. July ninth, Cerro Pietto. I saw today the first water-ausel I ever saw alive in America and was enchanted with his movements as he jerked his wren-shaped body with sprightly activity or with wearing 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 upstream, 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 of the air. July tenth. Early as we start, no one murmurs, I am riding a few yards apart from mess number twelve, a queer lot, roads who has crossed the plains from Fort Independence to Santa Fe, eleven times, and Barrett, 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 roads as nonchalant answer, to be sure they are, didn't we eat off of them last night? July twelfth. Conception. Yesterday we passed oaks with a heavy leaf glazed on the top, so as to look as rich as the magnolia grande flora of Louisiana. Razberries 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 fourteenth. 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. Lieutenant Browning says the claps of thunder and flashes of lightning are very well done in this country. July eighteenth. Our road today was by far the most tedious we have had, being uphill 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 and 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 oars 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 watertight, and the two large stones are pulled round by ropes of raw hide 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 quick silver, gives the result of eight to ten marks of silver to the cargo. This 300 pounds. Gold is much more variable in its profits. Everything used here is brought from the Pacific side, quick silver, 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 pick at our mules and pitch our tents in this town, said to contain 2,000 inhabitants, and eventually we had to hire the only corral in the place, full of fleas and dirt, for which we had to pay $12 per day. It is only about 70 yards long, and perhaps 30 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 minds who all treated us most kindly. I think at the view of Jesus Maria, which I have supersedes the necessity of a verbal description of its situation, but not 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 mountains would ensure a safe retreat. Yet the place has its charms, superb rocks, wild passes, and with all 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 22nd. Leaving the public square yesterday, we took a winding alley up the precipitous mountain. Two of our mules fell off the trail.  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 as night fell, and we had a miserable night. End of Chapter 4, Part 1. Chapter 4 of Audubon's Western Journal, 1849-1850, by John Woodhouse Audubon. This LiberVox recording is in the public domain. Chapter 4, Across the Mexican Mountains to Altar. Part 2. July 23rd. 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 Beach. 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. Stellar's Jay, a titmus, 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 30 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 15 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 struck off to the north and had traversed tablelands 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 the 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, but 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. Stellar'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 in camped. July 28th, Paraguato. We did not leave camp until nearly noon, waiting for a train of 182 mules packed with nothing but flasks of quicksilver. The usual length of trains is about 40 to 50, with six or eight men. Our road was the usual ascent and descent, and on the second descent we saw 15 or 20 swifts, about double the size of our common chimney swift at home. They appeared to nest on the cliff's opposite to the trail, a location similar to that of the first Republican swallow my father 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 Bessuvius, and found it an arduous climb. Broken reddish trap rock 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 I could reach. The north was left to our imaginations being hid by a veil of clouds, which sent flash after flash, peel after peel, to tell us of the storm which held sway there. Distance let such enchantment to all that the valleys and slopes looked as velvety as an English lawn. Our descent was very rapid, but giving the usual fatigue of 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 bathe 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 streams through. It's 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 man. August 6, 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' Rancho to Jesus Maria. At Trinidad there are three Frenchmen, one the Alcalda, the other two traders dealing in everything from horses to a single tallow candle. They also sell quantities of muskal, 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 and 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 quadrunes. Nature is beautiful at a return, now in bird and beast, then in tree and flower, then in rock and rill. How pained I am to pass them all. But the position into which I have been forced demands every hour, and I am never my own master. August 8, 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 10, 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 downhill 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 Mesquite 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 milk weed, and we were told the cotton-like substance which enclosed the seeds was used for candle-wick. 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 in our stomachs from the effects of the intense contrast and 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 asen, 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 traveling 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 cargos. The canoes are paddled by Mexicans, no great boatmen by the way. The mules and horses we swam over, having passed Domochi, the little town is said to be four days' travel from Euras. 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 mescal, a few freoles, and wheat and tortillas. Only once have I seen pulque at a small distillery of mescal. August 15th. Sojopa. 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 looked 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 150 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. Hinkley, Havens, Sloth, Valentine and Boggs were on guard, all good men, but of no avail, for double-barreled guns and two pistols were taken, one from under Boggs's 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 Ulysses, 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 Kohl's pictures were brought to mind. August 22, Urys. Three days' travel over a prairie, sometimes covered with chaperon and sometimes with grass, brought us here. We are greatly disappointed. Urys, the capital of Sonora, with its governor and military, Alcalda and court, is an Ibobe village of about 4,000 Indians, and still they have power, and the Alcalda proved himself a man of considerable ability. Coming down the mountains to the Ryoyaki, 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 karakara eagles in great numbers. Sometimes we saw fifty in a day so that birds mark the altitude. The mockingbird, raven, and a jay of the mountains are with us no more. We have found the plume to partridge plentiful, one with a black breast and a 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 destinations. 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 course bread made from unbolted flour, beef, or game, half cooked often, and eaten from ten plates or the frying pan and ten 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 Barrett. Clement exchanged his horse for two Mexican ones, which he procured from Mr. Gabelondo. The very next day I heard Clement's horse was dead, so I went at once to see Mr. Gabelondo. 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 treated for. I told the man who was writing 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, etc., but the train moved on through half the rabble of Yures, some of whom laughed, some swore. August 30th. Leaving Yures, the country is more level. To the southeast is a large plain covered with mesquite 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, too smaller species taking its place. I did not leave Yures 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 tropial 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 traveling brought me to the first sandy table-land 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 Osgoode, plum and brown, having left us at Yures to go by way of Mazatlán 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, we met here in great luxuriance having a center of pulpy pith surrounded by a number of long hearts, one for each ridge of the mead or pulp of the plant. If I only had time, how I would enjoy making drawings of all this, but I cannot. September 2nd. Two days out from Yures 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 realve, 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, Lanada, we had all the town about us admiring our white, question mark, 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 partridges are here, but the black breasted is nowhere to be seen. The California quail is found and gambles 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 left the rancho, formerly an old mission, with a very fine reservoir, 200 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 found them cold and almost uncivil. We are not looked upon with the same interest as here to for and could neither buy nor beg what we required for our use. We however succeeded with some difficulty in getting good flour and pineal 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.


Okay, we're back inside theCUBE here at EMC World 2012. We are doing a spotlight on cloud services, cloud applications, cloud deployments, hybrid cloud. I'm John Furrier, the founder of SiliconANGLE.com. I'm joined with my co-host. I'm Dave Vellante of Wikibon.org, and we're here with Toby Owen of Rackspace. Toby's involved in the hybrid cloud solutions part of the business. Welcome to theCUBE. Thank you. First time on. Yeah, it is. Quite a show. Have you typically frequented EMC worlds? No, this is our first time. Yeah, what do you think? It's impressive. It's a big show. Lots of good technology going on. Yeah, a lot of customers here. A lot of action going on, right? Absolutely. So tell us what's happening with Rackspace. The hybrid cloud, hybrid cloud's hot. We're going to share some data with you, and what are you guys seeing out there? Well, we initially launched a hybrid cloud offering called RackConnect about a year and a half ago. Right. And we've really seen kind of tremendous pickup from our customers over the last year and a half. Yeah, at the time of the announcement, hybrid cloud was sort of new, right? And the reaction was sort of tepid. People were sort of, I mean, we did some surveys at the time, single digits in terms of people said, oh yeah, hybrid cloud, that's my primary strategy. That's really changed in the past 12, 13 months, hasn't it? Yeah, it has. I remember attending some cloud shows a year, a year and a half ago, and hybrid cloud might have been on a bullet point on the slide, and now there's entire segments dedicated to it. So it's definitely- Why do you think that is? It's just the industry's got a better job of sort of proving it out or? Well, I think a couple of things. I think that as we sort of peeled back the marketing shine on cloud and customers are starting to really dive in, particularly enterprises, around how we're going to use this for production applications, they've realized that moving everything to the cloud all at once represents sometimes a pretty major project. And so hybrid is really a way to help customers start to use the cloud as a part of their application so they can start that migration a little bit quicker. And I think another reason it's important is that it allows existing kind of traditional IT, dedicated servers, dedicated storage to be paired up with cloud. And so it can help overcome some of the shortcomings that cloud that's still really in its infancy may have today. But I infer from what you just said that there's a direction that people want to get there eventually. So you see that as the end state is a predominantly public cloud strategy. Is that right? We do, I think cloud today, we're seeing more and more adoption but I think the bulk of all the workloads are still running kind of in traditional formats whether that's hosted or do it yourself in your own data center. And I think over time we're going to see that change where most applications are going to be running in the cloud but there's still going to be a need for dedicated infrastructure to kind of fill some of the gaps. I think hybrid is not a short term transition as a way to get to cloud. I think hybrid is going to be the reality for the next 10 or 15 years. So it's a business model you're saying? Absolutely. So how are customers dealing with to the consistency and policies and procedures and things like security? What's an incident? What should be reported? What can I audit? Is the industry stepping up to provide that level of visibility and consistency that is satisfying the enterprise? Is that a part of this sort of adoption? Kurt? Well I think the industry is responding to those needs. I think it takes time. Any new technology, any new platform takes time to develop those things and kind of the higher level requirements are definitely being driven by the enterprise today. We're involved in a project called OpenStack which is seeking to define kind of an open standard for cloud computing. Yeah we know it well, we've been following it. We're excited about it. We've put forth some caveats to our customers but still it's a lot of momentum behind the developer community. Yeah the networking side seems to be dynamic. I was talking to Nisiera. They're doing a lot of software defined networking as well. A lot of the network guys are coming into OpenStack so we were kind of commenting like OpenStack is getting traction down at the network layer kind of quietly. We're kind of talking about that. How does that affect your architecture? Because you want OpenStack to be open. You want the ecosystem to develop but you guys got a business to run service customers. That's right. So you can be open and grow in the ecosystem same time you got to deliver operations. So it's ops dev in this case, right? Dev ops dev. So how do you guys handle that challenge and talk about the balance of the networking component? Well I think networking is really key to building a cloud at scale. I think some of the earlier cloud platforms including our own really ran into challenges when we got to a certain size. And I think software defined networking is a big key to kind of unlock the next level of scale. And so implementing things like isolation within a multi-tenant environment are really going to help overcome, like you mentioned, some of the security problems or concerns around cloud today. From Rackspace's perspective, there's a lot of talk about convergence and you're bringing compute and storage and networking together. From your perspective, what does that all mean and we hear a lot about the good. What are some of the nuances and gotchas that you have to worry about with regard to that? Whether they're organizational, is it sort of new process models you have to put in place? How's that all sorting out for you? Well I think that's an important message to deliver that there are things that customers need to think about as they're planning kind of that journey into the cloud that it's not take my application and forklift it into the cloud and everything's going to work the same. And so I think one of our approaches and how Rackspace really are kind of key strategy and vision is to be one of the world's greatest service companies. And so our cloud strategy plays into that pretty well where we want not only great technical support but also great user experience. And so all of our design principles are geared around making cloud easy to use, intuitive, hybrid is another example there where we've really gotten down into the weeds and make that infrastructure easier to provision so that customers don't need to think as much about all the ins and outs of how the network works between two different environments. So what is a hybrid Metro? Tell us a little bit about that. Hybrid Metro is really a proof of concept that we've started in conjunction with Brocade and EMC as well as Masergy communications and it's based on a technology stack to do synchronous replication within a metro area so that workloads can be more easily migrated from a customer data center to a cloud provider. And we really feel like the next frontier for hybrid is moving outside of a single data center, a Rackspace data center where we've got dedicated in cloud sort of under the same roof and connecting up in an easy way and an integrated way to a customer environment. So hybrid Metro is the result of some testing of this use case, this technology stack and it's really a way for us to engage with customers and explore with them, is this a use case that meets some needs that you have today? Are there other use cases that are similar? Because we really feel like if we can do a good job enabling that connection to happen then we can start to build clouds that span distance and really start to see kind of a larger adoption of cloud. The objective is a zero data loss synchronous capability for disaster recovery? Yeah, I think there's a number of use cases. I think that zero RTO business continuity is certainly one of them. But it doesn't necessarily need to be that. The ability to easily move data through replication between sites makes things like live virtual machine migration much easier to do. The idea of I need to take a bunch of capacity and move it somewhere else because I've got some maintenance to do. Might be a great use case for that by shipping a large test of development environment out to a service provider so I can do this maintenance without impacting customers is another great use case. And then when you talk about doing it at a distance do you mean at asynchronous distance? Is that the next step? Or potentially, yeah. Right, I think we're really trying to get close to our customers on this to understand what are the needs they have today that are going to, or the pain they have around moving to the cloud and how will this solve that problem, right? So it's essentially putting the cloud into a remote replication environment. Utilizing the cloud, utilizing outsourced resources as opposed to building your own data centers. Exactly, so as enterprise IT shops are running out of space in their data centers they've got a couple of choices. One, sign another big 20 year lease and do construction and add capacity. Or two, might be to take those new workloads or additional workloads and move those to a service provider. So it's really, it's a different model for us in that we are now an extension of a customer's existing IT infrastructure. Chance to get out of the real estate business. That's right, that's right. So Rokey was just on talking about simplicity. What were they saying? Simplicity low cost, which is networking parlance for low cost, high performance solutions. But simplicity is a hard thing to crack in the cloud because it's not that simple. But as you move up the stack, the middle ground, middle layer is kind of complex. You guys doing that with multi-tenancies of the stuff. So what is your relationship with Rokey to talk about? Are they achieving that simplicity? I mean, it sounds good, but give us the scoop.  Well, I think simplicity for the customer is what's important. I think under the covers, there's a lot of technology and development that needs to go into making a good customer experience. I think Rokey has been a great partner with us and really helped us kind of solve some key infrastructure areas. They've been involved in our IPv6 readiness. Some of the scale issues as we continue to grow are user base around really large networks helping us solve some of those problems. And I think in terms of hybrid, we've been actively engaged with Rokey as well in creating automation and integration. What does cloud-optimized networks mean? Because that's kind of a buzzword. It's kind of a fuzzy term. They kick that around. What does that really mean? Well, I think cloud-optimized network means that it's easy, it's provisioned in the same way that cloud is. Either through a user interface or through a programmatic interface and API. So that it can really be provisioned and configured on demand. I think if you contrast that with sort of the traditional model of let's stand everything up, spend a couple of weeks or a couple of months getting all the equipment online configured. It's a very different model, right? I want my cloud servers on demand at the push of a button. I want my network to respond the same way. Awesome, awesome. So DevOps, talk about Rackspace's vision around DevOps. I know you guys are very pro developer in this area. And it's not a surprise to go back to Lou Mormons conversations that we had in 2008 and Brett and those guys. So you guys are really ahead of the curve on this area. But now the EMC culture or the big guys are kind of getting a whiff of the DevOps. And I think next year will be the year of DevOps. That's our prediction, we believe that. To be true, what's your take on that now? Give a perspective on, from Rackspace's view and your experience at Rackspace, what's going on in the DevOps world and how's this crossing the chasm to the mainstream? Right, well I think, first off, we're following that DevOps model in our product development. So we've got developers and operations guys sitting together doing continuous testing. Allows us faster cycle times on development. And it really allows the production of better code in the end, right? Because you catch your problems earlier, you're able to address them kind of in line. I think from a cloud consumer point of view, it's, go back to what we talked about cloud optimized networks. It's really about having a programmatic interface to all of your infrastructure, right? And so you start to tear down those silos of system administrator, network administrator, developer because coding to an API.  In other words, developers aren't usually network guys and network guys aren't developers. So DevOps is really like saying, hey, there's no distinction, you're all one. Well, I think there's nuance in that. I don't think that the developers are going to, Not that easy. They're not going to come in and be a network architect, right? But the ability to start to provision infrastructure. Push buttons. Yeah. Well, coding and application looks a lot like coding to an API, right? So it allows some of that cross training and cross pollination to happen. I think it gives enterprises a lot more flexibility on how to deploy their internal technical resources. That's a good way to look at it. Dave, that's an interesting comment because what that does is that kind of gives us a frame because what DevOps really is this program to an API for a developer. Knowing that there's trust and then network guys giving an API, knowing there's trust because in the old model, it's like shadow IT exists because ops won't let the developers do their thing and vice versa. So DevOps right now is such a fun area to watch because depending on who you talk to is a different definition. But you guys are actually executing this in market with Rackspace, with OpenStack and then your product development. So DevOps, so we just did a survey in the Wikibon community. 40% of the respondents said DevOps term is new to me. You don't know what that is and then about 16% said we're just going to have to speed with Agile. Give me a break on DevOps. But at the same time, about 12% said we're doing DevOps and we're seeing hyper-productivity as a result. So it's new. It's a very exciting area for us. I think that's really the goal is similar to cloud. It's about agility and how quickly can you move through getting the next thing done in IT. We had a conversation with a customer recently that he actually took his systems administrators and sat them next to the developers to sort of force that model because they're doing more and more of their production applications in the cloud. And that's really helping them. A little empathy training? Yeah, that's right. So in one minute we have left. I want to just get your quick perspective. Really appreciate the time coming on. Rackspace, you guys doing some great work. We're big fans of Rackspace. We're a customer actually on one of our sites. Talk about security. Obviously it's a moving train right now. Securing the apps, securing the data. I just put some stuff out on Twitter just before you came on about the bring your own device to work is really kind of fueling the debate on how the interaction at the hybrid is. And so that's one factor. So talk about security from the edge. Bring your own device, securing the device which we don't think I'm not for that. Secure the app and the data and how does that affect the hybrid cloud? So the general tech consensus is secure the app and the data and you're good. And we've got virtualization to help there. How does that affect some of the cloud optimized networks? Yeah, well a couple of things there. I think as you move to a more distributed model which cloud really is, security needs to move down closer to the data. Right, you no longer have this perimeter network that you can define and then everything in the middle sort of that squishy middle with no security, right? So having kind of defense in depth and pushing that security closer to the data is definitely a good strategy. I think hybrid is a good way to improve security over potentially just a pure cloud environment because you can bring some of the traditional more mature security products to bear on a cloud environment, right? Having a dedicated firewall sit in front of your cloud servers or having DDoS mitigation or intrusion detection take part in securing your dedicated and cloud infrastructure together really helps kind of raise the possibility. Just the enablement of the brocade piece of that help you, they have good policy. I mean, how do they thread through that next layer? Because you know, that's essentially they got to have the policy. Do they have that there? Yeah, I mean, we support a couple of network platforms in our Rack Connect hybrid offering. And all of those devices are network devices, right? And so those devices aren't single purpose anymore. There's a lot of security built into them. And so that we're creating kind of that layered approach. We've got a firewall, maybe a load balancer applying security policies throughout those in an automated way through APIs through those network devices and brocades definitely helping us out with that. Okay, I think we're good. Dave, this is good for good segment. Yeah, so we really appreciate you coming on and sharing Rack Spaces, you know, thoughts and opinions and we're watching this space. You guys are in the heart of it, doing some really innovative things with OpenStack. So congratulations with that. DevOps, great success story. Thank you very much. Well thanks, I appreciate your time. We appreciate it. Rack Space, great success story in the DevOps movement. I think this is the year we're going to be, I'll predict right now, go out on a limb. This is the year of DevOps and it's going to be really about operational efficiency with developers really adding a lot to the table, tools and hybrid cloud. So we'll be right back with more spotlight on cloud applications, cloud services. We'll be right after this break.