“We rode for miles through thickets of the centennial plant, Agave Americana, and found one in full bloom.  The sharp thorns terminating every leaf of this plant were a great annoyance to our dismounted and wearied men, whose legs were now almost bare.  A number of these plants were cut by the soldiers, and the body of them used as food.  The day was intensely hot, and the sand deep; the animals, inflated with water and rushes, gave way by scores; and although we advanced only sixteen miles, many did not arrive at camp until 10 o’clock at night.  It was a feast day for the wolves, which followed in packs close on our track, seizing our deserted brutes, and making the air resound with their howls as they battled for the carcases.

“December 12.—­We followed the Solidad through a deep fertile valley in the shape of a cross.  Here we ascended to the left a steep hill to the table lands, which, keeping for a few miles, we descended into a waterless valley, leading into False Bay at a point distant two or three miles from San Diego.  At this place we were in view of the fort overlooking the town of San Diego and the barren waste which surrounds it.

“The town consists of a few adobe houses, two or three of which only have plank floors.  It is situated at the foot of a high hill on a sand flat, two miles wide, reaching from the head of San Diego Bay to False Bay.  A high promontory, of nearly the same width, runs into the sea four or five miles, and is connected by the flat with the main land.  The road to the hide-houses leads on the east side of this promontory, and abreast of them the frigate Congress and the sloop Portsmouth are at anchor.  The hide-houses are a collection of store-houses where the hides of cattle are packed before being shipped, this article forming the only trade of the little town.

“The bay is a narrow arm of the sea indenting the land some four or five miles, easily defended, and having twenty feet of water at the lowest tide.  The rise is five feet, making the greatest water twenty-five feet.

“Standing on the hill which overlooks the town, and looking to the north-east, I saw the mission of San Diego, a fine large building now deserted.  The Rio San Diego runs under ground in a direct course from the mission to the town, and, sweeping around the hill, discharges itself into the bay.  Its original debouche was into False bay, where, meeting the waters rolling in from the seaward, a bar was formed by the deposit of sand, making the entrance of False Bay impracticable.

“January 2.—­Six and a half miles’ march brought us to the deserted mission of San Luis Rey.  The keys of this mission were in charge of the alcalde of the Indian village, a mile distant.  He was at the door to receive us and deliver up possession.  There we halted for the day, to let the sailors, who suffered dreadfully from sore feet, recruit a little.  This building is one which, for magnitude, convenience, and durability of architecture, would do honour to any country.