bluff, he remarked to himself, rather than to me, that it was strange that Fremont did not want to return north by the Lexington on account of sea-sickness, but preferred to go by land over five hundred miles.  The younger officers had been discussing what the general would do with Fremont, who was supposed to be in a state of mutiny.  Some, thought he would be tried and shot, some that he would be carried back in irons; and all agreed that if any one else than Fremont had put on such airs, and had acted as he had done, Kearney would have shown him no mercy, for he was regarded as the strictest sort of a disciplinarian.  We had a pleasant ride across the plain which lies between the seashore and Los Angeles, which we reached in about three hours, the infantry following on foot.  We found Colonel P. St. George Cooke living at the house of a Mr. Pryor, and the company of dragoons, with A. J. Smith, Davidson, Stoneman, and Dr. Griffin, quartered in an adobe-house close by.  Fremont held his court in the only two-story frame-house in the place.  After sometime spent at Pryor’s house, General Kearney ordered me to call on Fremont to notify him of his arrival, and that he desired to see him.  I walked round to the house which had been pointed out to me as his, inquired of a man at the door if the colonel was in, was answered “Yea,” and was conducted to a large room on the second floor, where very soon Fremont came in, and I delivered my message.  As I was on the point of leaving, he inquired where I was going to, and I answered that I was going back to Pryor’s house, where the general was, when he remarked that if I would wait a moment he would go along.  Of course I waited, and he soon joined me, dressed much as a Californian, with the peculiar high, broad-brimmed hat, with a fancy cord, and we walked together back to Pryor’s, where I left him with General Kearney.  We spent several days very pleasantly at Los Angeles, then, as now, the chief pueblo of the south, famous for its grapes, fruits, and wines.  There was a hill close to the town, from which we had a perfect view of the place.  The surrounding country is level, utterly devoid of trees, except the willows and cotton-woods that line the Los Angeles Creek and the acequias, or ditches, which lead from it.  The space of ground cultivated in vineyards seemed about five miles by one, embracing the town.  Every house had its inclosure of vineyard, which resembled a miniature orchard, the vines being very old, ranged in rows, trimmed very close, with irrigating ditches so arranged that a stream of water could be diverted between each row of vines.  The Los Angeles and San Gabriel Rivers are fed by melting snows from a range of mountains to the east, and the quantity of cultivated land depends upon the amount of water.  This did not seem to be very large; but the San Gabriel River, close by, was represented to contain a larger volume of water, affording the means of greatly enlarging the space for cultivation.  The climate was so moderate that oranges, figs, pomegranates, etc.... were generally to be found in every yard or inclosure.