there a while and getting some information, we again started in the direction of a mountain to the north of the Saunas, called the Gavillano.  It was quite dark when we reached the Saunas River, which we attempted to pass at several points, but found it full of water, and the quicksands were bad.  Hearing the bark of a dog, we changed our course in that direction, and, on hailing, were answered by voices which directed us where to cross.  Our knowledge of the language was limited, but we managed to understand, and to founder through the sand and water, and reached a small adobe-house on the banks of the Salinas, where we spent the night:  The house was a single room, without floor or glass; only a rude door, and window with bars.  Not a particle of food but meat, yet the man and woman entertained us with the language of lords put themselves, their house, and every thing, at our “disposition,” and made little barefoot children dance for our entertainment.  We made our supper of beef, and slept on a bullock’s hide on the dirt-floor.  In the morning we crossed the Salinas Plain, about fifteen miles of level ground, taking a shot occasionally at wild-geese, which abounded there, and entering the well-wooded valley that comes out from the foot of the Gavillano.  We had cruised about all day, and it was almost dark when we reached the house of a Senor Gomez, father of those who at Monterey had performed the parts of Adam and Eve.  His house was a two-story adobe, and had a fence in front.  It was situated well up among the foot-hills of the Gavillano, and could not be seen until within a few yards.  We hitched our horses to the fence and went in just as Gomez was about to sit down to a tempting supper of stewed hare and tortillas.  We were officers and caballeros and could not be ignored.  After turning our horses to grass, at his invitation we joined him at supper.  The allowance, though ample for one, was rather short for three, and I thought the Spanish grandiloquent politeness of Gomez, who was fat and old, was not over-cordial.  However, down we sat, and I was helped to a dish of rabbit, with what I thought to be an abundant sauce of tomato.  Taking a good mouthful, I felt as though I had taken liquid fire; the tomato was chile colorado, or red pepper, of the purest kind.  It nearly killed me, and I saw Gomez’s eyes twinkle, for he saw that his share of supper was increased.—­I contented myself with bits of the meat, and an abundant supply of tortillas.  Ord was better case-hardened, and stood it better.  We staid at Gomez’s that night, sleeping, as all did, on the ground, and the next morning we crossed the hill by the bridle-path to the old Mission of San Juan Bautista.  The Mission was in a beautiful valley, very level, and bounded on all sides by hills.  The plain was covered with wild-grasses and mustard, and had abundant water.  Cattle and horses were seen in all directions, and it was manifest that the priests who first occupied