so loud that our voices were echoed and re-echoed by the surrounding mountains, hoping, if there were any inhabitants in the valley, that they would respond to us.  There was no response—­all was silent when the sound of our voices died away in the gorges and ravines; and at ten o’clock at night we encamped under the wide-spreading branches of an oak, having travelled about 40 miles.  Striking a fire and heaping upon it a large quantity of wood, which blazed brightly, displaying the Gothic shapes of the surrounding oaks, we picketed our animals, spread our blankets, and slept soundly.

It rained several hours during the night, and in the morning a dense fog filled the valley.  Saddling our animals, we searched along the foot of the next range of mountains for a trail, but could find none.  Returning to our camp, we proceeded up the valley, and struck a trail, by following which two miles, we came to the house (Barnett’s).  The door was ajar, and entering the dwelling we found it tenantless.  The hearth was cold, and the ashes in the jambs of the large fire-place were baked.  In the corners of the building there were some frames, upon which beds had been once spread.  The house evidently had been abandoned by its former occupants for some time.  The prolific mothers of several families of the swinish species, with their squealing progenies, gathered around us, in full expectation, doubtless, of the dispensation of an extra ration, which we had not to give.  Having eaten nothing but a crust of bread for 24 hours, the inclination of our appetites was strong to draw upon them for a ration; but for old acquaintance’ sake, and because they were the foreshadowing of the “manifest destiny,” they were permitted to pass without molestation.  There were two or three small inclosures near the house, where corn and wheat had been planted and harvested this year; but none of the product of the harvest could be found in the empty house, or on the place.  Dismounting from our horses at a limpid spring-branch near the house, we slaked our thirst, and made our hydropathical breakfast from its cool and delicious water.

Although the trail of the valley did not run in our course, still, under the expectation that it would soon take another direction, we followed it, passing over a fertile soil, sufficiently timbered and watered by several small streams.  The quantity of arable land in California, I believe, is much greater than has generally been supposed from the accounts of the country given by travellers who have visited only the parts on the Pacific, and some few of the missions.  Most of the mountain valleys between the Sierra Nevada and the coast are exuberantly fertile, and finely watered, and will produce crops of all kinds, while the hills are covered with oats and grass of the most nutritious qualities, for the sustenance of cattle, horses, and hogs.  The acorns which fall from the oaks are, of themselves, a rich annual product for the fattening of hogs; and during the period of transition (four or five weeks after the rains commence falling) from the dry grass to the fresh growth, horses, mules, and even horned cattle mostly subsist and fatten upon these large and oleaginous nuts.