But The Tug Is Going Toward Our Steamer, And I Must
Awake And Be Off.
I walked along the shore to the new landing-place,
where were two or three store-houses and other buildings, forming a
small depot; and a stage-coach, I found, went daily between this place
and the Pueblo.
I got a seat on the top of the coach, to which were
tackled six little less than wild California horses. Each horse had
a man at his head, and when the driver had got his reins in hand he
gave the word, all the horses were let go at once, and away they
went on a spring, tearing over the ground, the driver only keeping
them from going the wrong way, for they had a wide, level pampa
to run over the whole thirty miles to the Pueblo. This plain is
almost treeless, with no grass, at least none now in the drought
of mid-summer, and is filled with squirrel-holes, and alive with
squirrels. As we changed horses twice, we did not slacken our
speed until we turned into the streets of the Pueblo.
The Pueblo de los Angeles I found a large and flourishing town of
about twenty thousand inhabitants, with brick sidewalks, and blocks
of stone or brick houses. The three principal traders when we
were here for hides in the Pilgrim and Alert are still among the
chief traders of the place, - Stearns, Temple, and Warner, the two
former being reputed very rich. I dined with Mr. Stearns, now a
very old man, and met there Don Juan Bandini, to whom I had given
a good deal of notice in my book. From him, as indeed from every
one in this town, I met with the kindest attentions. The wife of
Don Juan, who was a beautiful young girl when we were on the coast,
Doña Refugio, daughter of Don Santiago Argüello, the commandante
of San Diego, was with him, and still handsome. This is one of
several instances I have noticed of the preserving quality of the
California climate. Here, too, was Henry Mellus, who came out with
me before the mast in the Pilgrim, and left the brig to be agent's
clerk on shore. He had experienced varying fortunes here, and was
now married to a Mexican lady, and had a family. I dined with
him, and in the afternoon he drove me round to see the vineyards,
the chief objects in this region. The vintage of last year was
estimated at half a million of gallons. Every year new square
miles of ground are laid down to vineyards, and the Pueblo promises
to be the centre of one of the largest wine-producing regions in
the world. Grapes are a drug here, and I found a great abundance
of figs, olives, peaches, pears, and melons. The climate is well
suited to these fruits, but is too hot and dry for successful
wheat crops.
Towards evening, we started off in the stage coach, with again
our relays of six mad horses, and reached the creek before dark,
though it was late at night before we got on board the steamer,
which was slowly moving her wheels, under way for San Diego.
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