Chapter IV: Introduction (3)

On the 25th [of October][1] I left the Presidio with six men, and,
taking another one from San Buenaventura, I went as far as Simi,[2]
where we spent the night. On the following day I went with one
soldier toward San Fernando, leaving the other six at Simi awaiting
further orders. Having arrived at this mission I talked to the
Reverend Fathers and asked them where the fiesta was. They answered
that they did not know and inquired of some Indians who told them
that the fiesta was at a village called Quariniga and that the
dancing had already begun. This being the situation I spent the 26th
and 27th provisioning and on the latter day sent a soldier to Simi
to tell the others to start out in the afternoon and arrive at the
mission in the evening. This they did. At about nine o'clock at
night, taking with me four men from this garrison, I set out with
considerable secrecy for the rancho through which I passed at about
one o'clock in the morning of the 28th. We went as far as a canyon,
at a distance of about five leagues from the said rancho, arriving
at dawn, or about eight o'clock. We had with us a list of the
names of the Indian men and women fugitive from this mission [San
Fernando] and also two interpreters, one Spanish, the other familiar
with the language of all the Valley Indians. He also was well
acquainted with the country. While we were at this place some
Christian Indians arrived, who were on furlough and who had
originated in this village. They told me that the people were
beginning to arrive and that the dance was going to start on the
night of the 29th. For this reason it seemed to me desirable to
remain there till the 30th. The place was well arranged and
isolated, with water and forage for the horses.

At about ten o'clock on the morning of the 30th I set forth through
a very long canyon, and during the day and the following night I
arrived within a league of the village. This was at about twelve
o'clock midnight. At dawn of the 31st I started out and at daybreak
I approached the village with ten men, having left two with the
horses near by. Having got near the village I called to the
chieftains and asked them for the Christians. They told me there
was no more than one. The others, according to what they said, were
ten in number, five men and five women, and were with Quipagui.
Still others were at a village which they called Muscupian and one
called Mavialla, both far to the east.[3]

Thus, finding myself in this place without having accomplished
anything, I was told by a heathen Indian who knew the village of
Quipagui that five heathen were there whom I was seeking. On the way
there I encountered an Indian, named Macal, who was among those who
had killed the soldiers,[4] and whom it had not been possible to
catch. I captured him, and with him the rest of the wild Indians.
Thereafter I took him with me and retired from the village about
two leagues where I remained until two o'clock in the afternoon.
Then I set out, taking the valley of San Gabriel in a northerly
direction.[5] I crossed this valley and crossed the mountains and
at about three o'clock in the morning I came to the Tulare Valley.
Going along the slope of the mountains, I traveled as far as a
protected spot, which was called by the expedition San Jose,
arriving there at dawn. At about three o'clock in the afternoon I
started out again, going along the edge of the mountains, and at
about twelve o'clock midnight I reached a distance of two leagues
from the village mentioned above. At about three o'clock the next
morning, the 2nd of November, I set forth with my whole party, and,
careful to reach the village just as day was breaking, I found it
solitary. From dawn to eleven o'clock in the morning we were rained
on hard. Leaving all the rest of my party together, I went off with
three soldiers from this region, which was rather rocky, scouting
for the Indians, who had concealed all their tracks. I saw an
Indian--Christian or heathen--and noting this I retreated to within
three hundred paces of the rest of the troops. Inasmuch as the
heathen, who were near by on a hill, could have seen no more than
four men they would have thought we were no greater than this in
number. So the afore-mentioned Quipagui with six warriors allowed
himself to approach. As soon as we saw them, I called out in a loud
voice and the other six men joined us. We went out to encounter them
[the Indians] on a small hill. Seeing us and those who were guarding
the prisoners, the chief cried out to the other Indians and they
all simultaneously discharged their arrows and rushed to where the
soldiers held the prisoners.[6] We went and joined the latter,
and after everyone had arrived I accused him[7] of concealing
Christians. To this he replied that on the previous day when the
news arrived [of our coming] he was not at the village but was
hunting deer. In the afternoon when he returned he found only one
Indian. The latter exclaimed that they should leave because the
soldiers were coming against him. According to what the native
Indians told him, the Christians had fled, some to the eastern
mountains, others, with the one who had brought the news, down to
the tule swamps. I pressed him to go with me to search for them but
he replied that under the circumstances he could not because it
was raining. If he could wait till it stopped raining, he would
go to search. I could not remain, first, because I did not have
provisions, and second, because there was no water for the horses.
[I told him that] if he would gather them [the Christians] and take
them to the Mission of San Fernando, the Reverend Fathers would pay
him. I left him a rope with which to tie them up. This he promised
to do at the end of the moon just past. All this he did not perform.

This Indian should be removed from that place with all his
village for many reasons. The first is because he has killed many
unconverted Indians and is still killing them. He is the most feared
Indian in that entire country. The other reason is that he gives
refuge to Christian fugitives, and they know that neither Christian
nor heathen will go to look for them there on account of the terror
which he inspires. I would have brought him back with his people but
the weather did not permit me to do so without running the risk of
injury in capturing and securing them.

The same day at two o'clock I started to retire, and left the Tulare
Valley by a road never before discovered by an expedition. It is
the best way to get out of the valley, with good land, water, and
pasturage.[8] We stopped at two o'clock in the morning of the 3rd in
the midst of this country and camped for the rest of the night. On
the 3rd we set out and arrived at the mouth of the canyon at sunset.
There was some water, left by the rain of the preceding night.
The soldier Miguel Lugo, second in command, allowed the heathen
prisoner, called Macal, whom he had with him, to escape. I think
that if the Christian who was with him, had not cried out, the
sentinel would not have known when he left. At the outcry he [the
sentinel] chased him but could not catch him. We all went out
through the brush surrounding this place but not having found him,
we kept on retreating during the 4th and arrived at San Fernando in
the evening.[9]

V. EXPLORATION OF THE SACRAMENTO-SAN JOAQUIN DELTA, 1810-1813

These four years are notable primarily for the exploration of the Sacramento-San Joaquin delta, which previously had undergone no very intensive examination. We have accounts of the two trips by Father Fray Jose Viader in 1810 and that by Father Fray Ramon Abella in 1811. To these may be added the account of the rather disastrous punitive expedition by Sergeant Francisco Soto in 1813.

FATHER VIADER'S FIRST TRIP

_Viva Jesus._

Report or account of the trip which has just been made by order of the Governor and Father President with the purpose of searching for places or sites where missions might be established, from 15 to 28 August, 1810.

_15 August 1810._ At five-thirty o'clock in the afternoon of this day I departed from Mission San Jose with Second Lieutenant Gabriel Moraga, Cadet Raymundo Estrada, one corporal, three soldiers, and four neophytes of Mission Santa Clara. Having traveled about six leagues to the north we stopped alongside a pool of good water located in the western portion of the valley called San Jose. We did not stop to explore the place because it is so near and so well known to everyone. With no other special incident the next day dawned.

_16 August._ This day, following the same direction, northward, we went about six leagues before noon, and having killed two bears and one very big deer, we stopped for lunch at the source of a stream called Walnut Creek. This stream, although it has good water runs in very small amount. In the afternoon, having gone another six leagues in the same direction, having killed a deer and an antelope, and having seen good lands and groves of trees, all without water, we arrived by nightfall at the end of Walnut Creek and the beginning of some estuaries. These are on the northeast side of a fine plain which is well covered with trees (among others big walnuts).[1]

_17th day [of August]._ This day we spent, without moving our camp, in exploring the plain and surrounding hills. These lands belong to the Tarquines, most, or all, of whom are Christians at San Francisco. We saw the mouth of the rivers, of which there are two, one from the north, the other from the east. When they join, they enter one of the bays which border San Francisco. In all this region so well known for its good air, its fine land, its copious firewood, its walnut trees, the only water we found was two pools, one spoiled, the other good, although the water was stagnant. There is a little spring next to a willow thicket close to an inlet, where, it is said, was situated the village of the Tauquines. Because the area of Walnut Creek has very little water, it does not seem to me suitable for founding a mission. Throughout the day we killed three bears and eleven deer. With no other incident the night passed.

_18th day [of August]._ We left this place early and, going east, crossed the Mother Range. At seven leagues we came to the San Joaquin River, or, as it is called the River of the Tulares.[2] It is about a quarter of a league wide, and apparently very deep. It is reached by the tides of the sea. Here we stopped for lunch between the river and a very large oak forest. It is said that this land belongs to the Tulpunes, whom we did not see. There were no indications of heathen Indians. This place would be good for a mission if there were water, or if water could be taken from the river, for there is good land and much wood from oaks and live oaks. Today in the afternoon we went two more leagues to the east, through the oak forest and over good country. However, there is no water except what is in the above-mentioned river. This place also belongs to the Tulpunes, who did not allow themselves to be seen.

_19th day [of August]._ We set out at dawn in a southeasterly direction and after having gone about ten leagues over bad ground and along the edge of the tule swamps we arrived at a lake in the middle of an oak grove where we could neither get to the river nor turn back. Here, in the village of the Cholvones, or Pescadero, we stayed all the rest of the day, and the night. We sent an interpreter to get in touch with the Cholvones. He returned with a heathen Indian called Guanats, together with a considerable quantity of fish. They say that the Christian fugitives from San Jose are on the opposite shore, between the river and a lake. All this country is good and has firewood, but the floods from the rivers submerge it from the beginning of the warm season until August.[3]

_20th day [of August]._ We started out and traveled south-southeast some distance from the river on account of the swamps. We passed opposite a village of heathen called Aupemis and, without stopping, came to another village, whose chief is called Tomchom, having traveled since morning about three leagues. Here we rested, and no wild Indian showed himself. In the afternoon, and after two and one-half leagues in the same direction we arrived at a village, whose chief is called Cuyens. The latter is well known to, and friendly with, the interpreter, who had gone ahead to call him. We met them, together with fifteen other Indians carrying a great deal of fish to give us. Here we stopped to make camp for the night. Four of the Indians wanted to remain with us while the others went away, saying they would return with more fish for tomorrow. This they did and were accompanied by even more natives. Nothing we have seen today is suitable for a mission, because the land is flooded, in places for more than a league.[4]

_21st day [of August]._ We set out and the Indians followed us as far as another village whose chief is called Maijem.[5] This was at a distance of two and a half or three leagues in the same direction. Just before arriving there we came upon a dry stream bed, but with indications that in the rainy season it carries much water. Furthermore the land, or ground, is higher than anything we have seen thus far. The Indians of this village came [to us], although with great trepidation. After we had given them cigarettes and a few other presents they all disappeared--even those from Cuijens. In the afternoon after two more leagues in the same direction we halted opposite a village whose chief is called Bozenats.[6] These Indians, who let themselves be seen on the other side of the river, refused to come near us, however much we called to them. On the other hand they yelled at us with much vigor, also saying that they had no fugitive Christians and finally that they would come over the next day. If the region traversed today had water, or water could be obtained from the San Joaquin River, it would not be bad for the establishment of a mission, for there is good land and no lack of firewood.

_22nd day [of August]._ The Indians who had said they would come did not come and we went on in the same south-southeasterly direction. After we had gone about two leagues about thirty armed heathen appeared on the opposite bank of the river. Asked by our interpreter, they refused to come across. Furthermore, they said in a very threatening manner that we had better get out quickly and appeared anxious to fight. Here, according to their statements, are the fugitive Christians from Santa Clara and Santa Cruz. These natives are called the Apaglamenes.

Seeing that they refused to cross over, we pursued the same direction and after a league stopped at a village named Tationes.[7] Here also they say there are Christian fugitives. A little while after we arrived for a rest period the heathen Apaglamenes, to whom I referred above, made an appearance, accompanied by the Tationes, all armed, painted, and bedecked with feathers. Some were on the other side of the river and six on our side, a gunshot away. These six were already shooting at the interpreter, who had gone to speak to them and pacify them. Also they fired on Corporal Berreyessa, who went to call back the interpreter. The Lieutenant, seeing this and noting that those on the other side of the river were talking with a great deal of insolence, ordered that they be told to be quiet and to go away. Otherwise they would be fired upon. The Indians having replied with still more insults, we fired in the air in order to make our intentions clear. Thereupon they began to fire at us and the soldiers at them. The fight did not last long, for the soldiers fired no more than twelve shots. According to a later count one Indian was hit, and perhaps more, for the shots went into a little thicket. The soldier Morales came into the skirmish with half his chin shaved and the other half covered with lather. On our part there were no other casualties. The territory covered today is also rather high in some places and has no lack of firewood but has no water.

In the afternoon we continued in the same direction. At the point of departure a few Indians were visible at a distance. After traveling three leagues we stopped near some lakes, apart from the river but near a willow grove.[8] The area we covered in the afternoon has neither firewood nor good land.

_23rd day [of August]._ Today, after three and one-half leagues in the same direction and without being able to get near the river on account of the sloughs, flooded land, and swamps, we had to rest on an open plain without shade near a creek, or arm of the river.[9] The great heat forced us to jump in for a swim. The water of the creek was lukewarm. After we had rested, we started out in the same direction more or less, and after four leagues, already at nightfall, without hope of meeting or reaching the river, we stopped beside a pond.[10] There was no wood or brush to cook supper or even make chocolate. Everything we crossed today is low ground, tule swamps, and ponds and for this reason is not suitable for a mission.

_24th day [of August]._ Very early, before breakfast, thinking that we were opposite Soledad [Mission] and that the tule swamps and low, flooded territory continued as far as the vicinity of San Miguel, we decided to turn back. Taking now a westerly direction, after going four leagues we had chocolate in a patch of brush and then going on in the same direction for another six leagues we arrived at the place called San Luis Gonzaga. Here we halted for the afternoon and also the following morning, with the purpose of exploring this area, which at first sight appears to be a good one.

_25th day [of August]._ As a matter of fact, this place was examined and explored and no more water was found than a few pools and one short creek, all of which together would not be adequate for a mission. The pools are deep but the creek flows very little, although there are indications that in the rainy season it fills up considerably. Moreover, the wood supply is quite far removed and above all there are no heathen Indians in the whole region as far as the rivers.

_26th day [of August]._ We left this place in the morning and took a southwesterly course. After crossing a little plain for about a league we began to climb the mountains, which carried us some six leagues, including the plain just mentioned. We stopped at the foot of the range along a creek which had no more water than a few scattered pools. In just one of these we caught forty fish including six trout or little salmon. After the siesta we kept on in the same direction for three leagues and arrived at the stream called Ausaymas. This is already the plain of San Juan Bautista, and is suitable for at least a rancho because it has water, wood, and good land.

_27th day [of August]._ From here we set forth and, crossing the plain in the same southwesterly direction for five leagues, we arrived at Mission San Juan Bautista without difficulty, thank God, at about nine o'clock of the same day. Here with a good breakfast we brought the expedition to an end.

San Juan Bautista, Fr. Jose Viader
August 28, 1810

FATHER VIADER'S SECOND TRIP

_Report of Father Jose Viader_
From 19 to 27 October, 1810
Mission San Jose, October 19, 1810

_Viva Jesus._

My esteemed Father President, I inform you that at about two o'clock this afternoon I left this mission in the company of Lieutenant Gabriel Moraga, 23 other soldiers, and about 50 armed Christian Indians. After going some six leagues to the northeast we halted to pass the night in the valley of San Jose near a willow grove which contains good water.

_20th day._ From the valley to Pescadero, or Cholvones, we traveled about nine leagues to the east-northeast[11] and arrived very late so as not to be seen or heard. Soon we placed our people in position to attack a dance [being carried on] by heathen Indians and fugitive Christians.

_21st day._ Before dawn we assaulted a village on this side of the river and only one person escaped, a San Jose Christian named Bernardo. He, having gone to sleep at a distance from the village, jumped into the water and swam in great haste to warn those at the dance. For this reason we immediately fell upon the other village, which was on the opposite side of the river, and took it entire. The prisoners in all included 15 San Jose Christians, 18 heathen men, and 51 heathen women. The latter were released by the lieutenant and went away very happy.[12]

The remainder of the day we rested here and passed the time well with fresh salmon and wild grapes. Two of the Christian prisoners escaped, on the pretext of having to attend to a necessity, and also because of the negligence or overconfidence of the sentinel. All this place and its surroundings are inundated during the high water of the rivers, which is in the summer. At that time the wild Indians live on a few small elevations.[13] For this reason there is no way to establish a mission here.

_22nd day._ This morning Corporal Pico, with seven soldiers and the neophytes, went with the Christian and heathen prisoners toward San Jose. The rest of us, with a heathen Indian called Guanats, went up the river, southeasterly through oak groves, willow thickets, ponds, and lands flooded during the freshets. We also met four wild Indians gathering seeds, who were extremely glad to meet honest people. After having gone about two and one-half leagues we stopped to eat between two ponds, in front of the [village of] the Jusmites[14] Indians. In the afternoon, having gone another two and one-half leagues we spent the night near the [village of] the Tugites Indians. All the country seen thus far has wood, with water in the river and lakes, but the land is low, flooded, and without stone.

_23rd day._ In the morning we resumed our march in the same direction, always upstream with the intention of crossing it. On the way, Indians whom we knew and who were friendly, from the village of Cuyens, came out to meet us, bearing as a gift three very big, red, salmon. They also have accompanied us to the village of Mayem, where we halted to eat, having gone four leagues since early morning. Having rewarded well our Indian benefactors and companions, we also gave something to those of Mayem. The latter people have just approached us with much fear and with a tendency to prevaricate. Although they know that they have in their village Christians from Santa Clara, they deny it and furthermore declare that they will never again admit any [Christian fugitives]. If it were not for the nuisance it would cause us, the Lieutenant says he would flog them, but on the return trip he will do so if things go as they have this time. In the afternoon, after having dismissed all the wild Indians, we set forth in the same direction, and traveled two leagues. At this point, opposite the village called or designated Taualames, we found a ford across the river. However it was very bad, being wide and deep and with poor approaches. We crossed it without untoward incident, thanks be to God, and soon halted for the night. I sent a boy to the village to carry a statement to the natives here of our purpose to call for Christian fugitives and offer them pardon. Six heathen Indians returned who, filled with apprehension, said that all the Christians had gone to the mission and would not be allowed to come back, but they were lying. Finally they said they would take us to their village and would come back in the morning to do this. So we sent them away. In all we have covered today we have not found any place suitable for establishing a mission.

_24th day._ We got up early and without moving camp I went out with the Lieutenant and four soldiers to the north, with the intention of getting to the Rio de Dolores [Tuolumne River] two or three leagues away. However on account of so many sloughs, swamps, and ponds we turned back. We could see only some high ground, not reached by the floods, which are as bad as, or worse than, those on this side, or the west side. We also went into the village and found only a dog and a tame deer. The boy went into the brush [to get the people] but they did not want to come out, so we went to eat lunch. In the afternoon we went ahead in the same south-southeasterly direction up the river. We passed in front of the Apelamenes and Tatives Indians, who had fought us on the former occasion, but did not enter the villages for we anticipated that we would find the houses empty and because of the extensive swamp and lake. After having gone six leagues and having noted that the high ground not covered by the river is very poor, is a long distance from the river and from a wood supply, and is useful for nothing, we arrived at another river, the Merced, which comes from the east and joins the San Joaquin.[15] We crossed it, almost swimming the horses. Here is much wood on both banks of the river: oak, live oak, cottonwood, cypress, willow, etc. Nevertheless it was clear that the spring floods cover a great deal of these lands and that only the latter seem to be of value.

_25th day._ In the morning we left here going southwest with the intention of crossing the San Joaquin River, which was still to the west of where we slept. Shortly after our departure we came upon an old village on a height whose lands have a little grass but no rock, and moreover this place is between two large rivers. We reached the San Joaquin after one long league and crossed it. Thereafter we crossed several other swampy sloughs. From here southward there are no more trees, only tules and more tules.

The Merced River, it seems to me, cannot be dammed, not only because the soil is pure sand, but because it is now confined between very close banks. I can say the same of the other stream, the San Joaquin, and furthermore the bottom is so level that the current is very slow, even though the water is deep.

From here we turned back down the San Joaquin River and in two and one-half leagues we reached the scene of the battle, or shaving place, for at this point now, as previously, the soldiers shave themselves. Only one wild Indian was seen in the distance when we arrived. We left here a sick horse. This place is a little elevated, but only the flooded areas have grass and are without rocks in the entire three leagues to the western hills. In the afternoon we went forward in the same direction, downstream, and after a league we got to the arroyo of Orestimac [Orestimba Cr.], opposite the Apalamenes, the allies of the Tatives when the latter fought us. This creek, which comes from the hills, is not flowing nor does it contain water, but it is known that in the rainy season it fills up and even overflows. This spot is the least bad on this whole side of the river but even so it would not be suitable for a mission. It has only firewood, river water, and much good fish.

We kept on and in two more leagues we came to a point opposite the Taualames Indians. When called by the boy, their kinsman, they refused to come out, saying that they were afraid. They guessed right for they would have been taken captive. From this point, considering that the people of Mayem would also refuse to come out, and that it was not yet late, we turned west and after crossing three leagues of plain reached the arroyo of Corpus Christi, where we spent the night[16] without water for the horses. We had to dig a well in the sand.

_26th day._ We started early toward the west and after six leagues of mountains and bad trails we reached a place formerly called El Toro, where we ate lunch, and we, with the horses, drank. In the afternoon, going in the same direction more or less for another six leagues of extremely bad trail, we arrived at dark at a little flat with some pools of good water. This place we called San Guillermo.

_27th day._ From San Guillermo we went six leagues in the same direction to stop for lunch at the old village of the Patenos. From here in the afternoon after five leagues to the northwest we reached this mission, in good condition, thanks be to God.

Santa Clara Mission, Fr. Jose Viader
October 28, 1810

FATHER RAMON ABELLA'S EXPEDITION, 1811

This manuscript of twenty-seven pages is entitled: "Diario de un registro de los rios grandes, October 15-31, 1811." The title page bears the note:

A copy in the handwriting of and signed by Gervasio Arguello.

Exploration of the Eastern Shores of upper San Francisco Bay, San
Pablo and Suisun Bays and of the lower Sacramento and San Joaquin
Rivers.

The authorship of this document is something of a mystery. The copy in the Bancroft Library has the title given above but is in the handwriting of, and signed by, Gervasio Arguello, who was not a member of the expedition. If it is Father Abella's actual diary, then how may one explain the references to "Father Ramon," "the two priests," etc.? Furthermore, the diction is confused and ungrammatical, unlike what one would expect of a literate priest. Certain passages give the impression of a third person who is involved. My own feeling is that Father Abella kept some sort of record but that these notes, plus a verbal account by Sergeant Jose Sanchez, the military commander of the expedition were worked over by Gervasio Arguello into a day-by-day account which has the semblance of a diary. Credit for the leadership of the expedition, of course, remains with Father Abella.

Exploration of the Eastern Shores of upper San Francisco Bay, San
Pablo and Suisun Bays and of the lower Sacramento and San Joaquin
Rivers.

_15th day._ At ten o'clock in the morning we set out from the wharf at the port and stopped at Angel Island because the tide was running out.[17] At about four in the afternoon the tide turned and was favorable. We set out, arrived at the Point of the Huchiunes, and stopped on the south side of that point. We went during the entire day about five hours, all at the oar in a calm sea. Angel Island, the Point of the Huchiunes, and that of the Abastos form a bay equal in size to that of the Port.[18] It contains eight islands, most of which are small. One of them, which has to be passed in navigating to the Point of the Huchiunes, has a sand bar, and it is necessary to pass a little away from it to the west. It is recognizable only when a bearing is taken. The west side [of the island] is covered with trees.

_16th day._ We set out from the above-mentioned Point of the Huchiunes, which we called Point San Pablo. Where we slept is a fairly good beach with water and firewood where one may stop. This Point San Pablo has opposite to it another point which we called San Pedro and halfway between are two little islands. From one point to the other will be about twice the distance as from the fort to the other shore.[19] These two points enclose the bay which we have mentioned, and form another, much larger, which we estimated to extend four leagues. From the center to the periphery this bay is square. On the northern side and the western it has five villages, which are still heathen. On the western side is a cove, according to the Indians quite large, but Ensign Gabriel Moraga has twice reached its head in the expeditions he has carried out in these parts.

At one and a half leagues we encountered another point which we called San Andres.[20] Between the latter and Point San Pablo, all of which is the mainland of San Jose,[21] there is a cove which ends in a creek. The latter, according to those who have traveled past it, and according to the Indians, is like that of the town [San Jose] but runs very deep, and has a fair amount of trees. Between the points there are 4 varas of water, which drops to 2. This is while cruising some distance from the shore; farther in it deepens, the same as at the port [of San Francisco], because there is a channel which carries a considerable current. All the land of the Huchiunes is quite bare, although there are some oaks.

As far as Carquinez Strait, with what we covered yesterday and today, we will have consumed some eight hours all to the northeast, one-quarter north from the mission. Here, within the eight leagues,[22] the bay proper ends. The strait is formed by an island[23] and the mainland of San Jose. The island soon ends and mainland remains on each side. The strait runs southeast and makes a half-turn to the south and has a strong current, according to the rise and fall of the tide. This strait is about two and one-half leagues long and one-quarter of a league wide, although in some places rather wider, and ends in the land of the Chupunes, for there it opens out. At this place we stopped at eleven-thirty o'clock on a little beach, which at low tide remains dry and where the boats have to pull back about 200 varas so as not to run aground. At low tide there is visible a rock, which is covered by the water and could damage boats approaching the shore. However, a little farther down, toward the mountain, there is a kind of small stream which is good [for anchorage]. To this place we gave the name "La Division." It has a large pool of water and considerable firewood. Here we stopped for the night uneventfully. The shore opposite the mainland of San Jose on the strait called Carquinez is very bare country.[24]

_17th day._[25] We set forth at nine o'clock in the morning, and as soon as we emerged from the strait at the point which, as I have said, we called "La Division," we entered a large bay four or five leagues wide. Gradually from here the water becomes sweet. We cruised close to the coast of San Jose, and at five leagues[26] the estuary begins to develop. We traveled the whole day as close as possible to the coast of San Jose. There are various islands covered with tule rushes and thickets. At fourteen leagues[27] the rivers begin to form, with tule on the banks. It is sheer swamp, which prevents any landing on firm ground.

In this branch of the river, as in all the others which we have seen, we observed that when the tide rises, the water in some places comes up to a height of a vara and a half, and this is quite to be expected on account of the flatness of the land and the thrust of the sea through the Carquinez Strait. The channel of the river over which we traveled today has a width of a quarter of a league and in places somewhat more.

We cruised today somewhere near eight hours, four of them with a fresh breeze, and we measured about eighteen leagues, all to the east, with the river turning now and again to the northeast. We stopped at an island which has trees of some thickness but which is choked with underbrush, and it is evidently submerged during floods.

A little before reaching this island the river divides into two branches. From the mouth some alders are visible at half a league distance to the left. This is the entrance which should be taken at this island. The place where we stopped was recognized as a fishing location of the Ompines, for there were signs of campfires.[28]

_18th day._ We set out from this island at seven o'clock in the morning, and went back half a league so as to enter the previously mentioned river mouth (although it seems to me that it is not necessary to go back, but rather to follow the same entrance for we afterwards saw that they [the two river mouths] joined each other, a thing which even the guide had not yet noticed). We traveled about seven leagues to the east, with a fresh north wind. The river makes some turns at about one-quarter of the seven-league distance and forms another island with the opening[29] where we slept. This is why I said that it is not necessary to turn back. Everything is tule swamp on each side, with an occasional bush. The channel, as has been stated, is about a quarter of a league wide. At noon we [stopped and] landed in a swamp. Here the river widens considerably and there is another opening, which, although somewhat concealed, communicates with the River of the North.[30] The latter goes up to the left and is the one we took on the 24th on the down trip.

We set out at two o'clock in the afternoon. At about half a league we took the opening to the right, which is the one carrying less water and with some small trees, leaving the one on the left, which is the main stream, for we always tried to stay as close as we could to the mainland of San Jose. But if others come after us, they should follow the main river, because all the other openings lead to branches which leave it [the main river] and return to it, forming an infinity of islands.[31] We cruised to the south, but there are so many twists and windings that at times we circled the compass. The principal turns are south and southwest, and the course follows this way twice, but the banks are covered with nothing but tule, and so high that one sees nothing but sky, water, and tule. We kept on till eleven o'clock in the evening because there was no place to stop, and slept in the boats. There is land but it is flooded. [The stream] has a depth of 8 to 14 varas and a width of 80 varas, although in some places it widens, as at the turns and bends. At about nine o'clock at night the river divided into two parts, and that which we left goes on to join the big river [Rio Grande] which we encountered on the 22nd. It carries more water than the one we followed, and the two join a little before the place where we set up the cross. We did not measure the distance we traveled on account of the bends and turns made by the river.[32]

_19th day._ We set forth at five o'clock in the morning and traveled until twelve o'clock noon. The river keeps on in the same way with its windings, covered with tules, but now one meets land that is a little higher but still bare of trees. We ran upon two or three village sites, the people from which have already been made Christians at the mission of San Jose.[33] We set out again at two o'clock in the afternoon, and after a league's travel found three heathen women seventy years of age, with one husband and one boy, who were San Jose Christians. They had quite a few fish. This place is known as being good for fishing, and here, as along all the river, are many signs of beaver, although I have never seen more than the signs. This afternoon, already, the river has turned to the east, with an occasional bend to the southwest. We went about three leagues and slept in the land of the Bolbones. Still there are ponds and tule swamps, although it is said that white men have pastured horses only about half a league away.[34]

_20th day._ We set out at sunrise with the intention of saying Mass at Pescadero in order to have dry land [for the service]. However after a mile from the start the boats ran aground. Here we sounded the river, which is seen clearly to be running and which appears to me to carry about as much water as the river at the ranch at Monterey.[35] The depth which it had [i.e., we had observed] on the two preceding days was due to the low level of the land. From here to the mouth found on the 22nd, which will be about nine or ten leagues, can be traversed by boats only with much difficulty.

We turned back to the place from which we had set out, where we celebrated Mass. After four hours, when the water had risen due to the backing up caused by the reversal of the tide, we again undertook the same course. As I have said, the river contains very little water and there are numerous trees. We were desirous of following this pathway because the Indians said this river had two arms, one of which went on to join the Rio Grande, which we left on the 18th. As has been said we did reach it on the 22nd.

We went about two leagues with some effort and halted at the village of Pescadero, called also of the Bolbones. The San Jose Christians who were there on a visit presented themselves. From the villages of the vicinity Father Fray Buenaventura[36] baptized six ill and decrepit heathen women and the baby boy of a neophyte. In this spot, which is also an island, the day was passed. On the shore where we landed there are several oak trees on each side, and the land promises well for wheat, pasturage, or even corn by dry farming.[37] There are certain trees which are said to be mangroves, but in time of high water the area will be impassable.[38]

_21st day._ We sent four guides on tule rafts to see whether the boats could get through. They encountered some difficulty, although they were optimistic that it was possible [to pass]. We set out at one o'clock at noon and cruised until nightfall in a direction northeast, one-quarter east. The stream bed is full of logs and the boats grounded two or three times. The stream is inadequate for travel by boat. We journeyed about three or four leagues and stopped at a high spot which had a number of oak trees but was entirely surrounded by tule swamps. A league from the starting point we passed out of the slough called Pescadero. We left it on the right hand and took the [channel] on the left hand, which trends to the northeast and [with] the opening which we left behind forms an island. For an Indian went past with a boat and turned off and met us in the big river [Braso Grande], he going upward and we downward. Although some of the soldiers said that it [the channel] emptied into White Lake [Laguna del Blanco][39] I conclude that this is not true, but that White Lake discharges into the Rio Grande. Furthermore, from horseback, in the tules, one cannot see well, so I base my opinion on what an Indian said. The matter could not be settled because the boats ran aground.[40]

_22nd day._ We set out from the place of the oak trees at about seven o'clock in the evening. We went to the southeast with some turns to the east. We traveled four or five leagues, two of them still in low water. The river bank was populated with oaks and other trees, and once the boats ran aground. At the end of the two leagues the water increases threefold in volume and the river divides into two channels. One of these is that which we left behind in the evening of the 18th. [The other] is better because it carries much more water. [Both branches] go to unite with each other in the middle of the tule swamps, where we slept on the day mentioned.[41] We kept on cruising up the river with the tripled volume of water. The water is clear and both banks are covered with oak trees. At three leagues we encountered the Rio Grande. Here we observed the junction of the rivers; it has about 5 varas depth in the center and a width of about 100. The river water is pure, because it was low tide and it is known that the tide exercises little influence because the land is already high. This place lies about on the parallel of the Pueblo [San Jose], according to those who have come by land, and is distant from the Pueblo some 25 or 26 leagues from east to west, although it may be a little below this latitude. Here it is evident from the quantity of water that several rivers have united, for there is no ford and there would always be required a pontoon or boat to cross the stream. At this place there are many oak trees on the opposite, or eastern, shore. There is no tule, and only in great floods does the river overflow, for the western bank is the lower. Here it is necessary to take soundings in order to cross from one side to the other.

Four or five leagues higher up, where there is the village of Christians, the river unites with the watercourse which we left behind yesterday.[42] It seems to me that in this plain there are islands and that it would not be difficult to have the horses and cattle cross by swimming and the people by boats, because the river falls very gently. This would be much easier than at the Strait of Carquinez, which is the only other possible place we have seen. All the tule swamp is impassable.

Just here the river separates by way of two openings: one is that which we followed this morning; the other is closer to the mainland of the opposite shore. We are going to follow down the latter because it is the most direct. Here a cross was made with a chisel in an oak tree, about four inches wide and correspondingly long, about four varas high and in the point between the openings. Father Fray Ramon named the river San Juan Capistrano.[43] If anyone comes back to explore, he should follow upstream. On the return trip he should not take the entrance to the left, which is the one we have just come from, because the river is full of logs. The other one, even if it contains no logs, runs in the middle of the tule swamps, and in that region nothing can be accomplished[44] unless it be salmon fishing and beaver [trapping], although I have already said elsewhere that I saw only their traces.

Here we stopped to eat, and at one o'clock in the afternoon we turned back and went around the entrance which, as has been said, leads, isolated, through numerous islands, all of which we have traversed since the 17th. The largest of these are the most deeply submerged. We cruised to the northwest, one-quarter north, for some five leagues, for downstream the boats travel considerably faster, and came upon a village called "Los Coyboses."[45] Seventy persons of all ages and sexes presented themselves. The village may hold nearly 180 persons but a message had been sent to them that we were coming, and it was evident that the rest had hidden themselves. They seem to be docile people. Father Fray Buenaventura baptized a sick boy and two women, one of them decrepit, the other very ill, for there are already from here a few Christians in the mission of San Jose. The bank of the river still has some oak trees, but from here downward the tule swamps begin again. We halted a league below the village, on a high spot along the river, where we slept.

_23rd day._ We set out at about seven o'clock in the morning and traveled some three leagues to the northwest, ignoring the turns, where we came upon a village, which according to count could contain 900 persons, although they were segregated in three villages, each at some distance from the other.[46] We saw only one of them, where about 150 persons presented themselves, of both sexes and all ages. They showed us their landing place, and the houses made it clear that twice as many people lived there. They had heard [about our arrival] the previous night and the majority fled. We gave them a few little presents and they responded in a like manner. It is an excellent place to fish for salmon.

We started out again about two o'clock in the afternoon and went about five leagues and at the halfway point we found a village which had no more than two persons. They said that the rest of the people had fled because they had heard that we were coming that way. They had taken up the houses, which are of straw, and all their personal belongings. The currents of the river downstream strike sharply against this village. The land is a little higher, the oaks can be seen from the opposite shore, and there is already dry land along the river we are following. So say the Indians. Farther down we came onto another village which had been completely removed at the same time. We even caught them going ashore, whereupon they threw away their possessions, abandoned their boats, and hid in the tule swamps. No matter how hard we tried we could not succeed in finding more than four persons and two dogs. They said they had done this on account of the fear which they had for us. Here again is land under water. On this day the Father from San Jose baptized some sick people and infants who had some connection with the neophytes of San Jose Mission. During the afternoon we cruised to the northwest, with some turns to the north. The river divides into two channels, but soon they join again forming an island.[47]

_24th day._ The previous night we slept in the tule swamp and the water reached our blankets at the turn of the tide. The whole area is this way for several leagues. The water rose about one and one-half varas. We observed that the people who had run away from the rancheria, as I have said, yelled a great deal, obviously to collect together all the inhabitants who had hidden by letting them know that we had already moved on.