Mr. Larkin and Mr. Hartnell asking to go along, we jumped in and pushed off.  Steering our boat toward the spars, which loomed up above the fog clear and distinct, in about a mile we came to the black hull of the strange monster, the long-expected and most welcome steamer California.  Her wheels were barely moving, for her pilot could not see the shore-line distinctly, though the hills and Point of Pines could be clearly made out over the fog, and occasionally a glimpse of some white walls showed where the town lay.  A “Jacob’s ladder” was lowered for us from the steamer, and in a minute I scrambled up on deck, followed by Larkin and Hartnell, and we found ourselves in the midst of many old friends.  There was Canby, the adjutant-general, who was to take my place; Charley Hoyt, my cousin; General Persifer F. Smith and wife; Gibbs, his aide-de-camp; Major Ogden, of the Engineers, and wife; and, indeed, many old Californians, among them Alfred Robinson, and Frank Ward with his pretty bride.  By the time the ship was fairly at anchor we had answered a million of questions about gold and the state of the country; and, learning that the ship was out of fuel, had informed the captain (Marshall) that there was abundance of pine-wood, but no willing hands to cut it; that no man could be hired at less than an ounce of gold a day, unless the soldiers would volunteer to do it for some agreed-upon price.  As for coal, there was not a pound in Monterey, or anywhere else in California.  Vessels with coal were known to be en route around Cape Horn, but none had yet reached California.

The arrival of this steamer was the beginning of a new epoch on the Pacific coast; yet there she lay, helpless, without coal or fuel.  The native Californians, who had never seen a steamship, stood for days on the beach looking at her, with the universal exclamation, “Tan feo!”—­how ugly!—­and she was truly ugly when compared with the clean, well-sparred frigates and sloops-of-war that had hitherto been seen on the North Pacific coast.  It was first supposed it would take ten days to get wood enough to prosecute her voyage, and therefore all the passengers who could took up their quarters on shore.  Major Canby relieved me, and took the place I had held so long as adjutant-general of the Department of California.  The time seemed most opportune for me to leave the service, as I had several splendid offers of employment and of partnership, and, accordingly, I made my written resignation; but General Smith put his veto upon it, saying that he was to command the Division of the Pacific, while General Riley was to have the Department of California, and Colonel Loring that of Oregon.  He wanted me as his adjutant-general, because of my familiarity with the country, and knowledge of its then condition:  At the time, he had on his staff Gibbs as aide-de-camp, and Fitzgerald as quartermaster.  He also had along with him quite a retinue of servants, hired with a clear contract to serve him for a whole