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Anza's Wild Gosling

CHAPTER 14: ANCIENT RUINS

Thomas had been to this site before, and decided that now was the time for him to return to Tumacacori. He told Sean that he might find ancient pots and jars at the site, made by the ancient ones. He commented that the colorful pottery could not have been of recent origin, because the Gila Pimas do not know how to make the kinds of pots found at Casa Grande de Moctezuma, as he gave its full and proper name.

Sean thanked Thomas for his friendship, and for teaching him much of the Pima language that he knew. Sean concluded the parting, "You have saved my life, I think, by alerting your brothers to Red Band's stalking, and I hope we will meet again when I return." In a rare display of emotion they clasped arms and pounded each other's back. Thomas mounted and rode off with the other Pimas from Tucson.

Colonel Anza, four of his soldiers, the three priests, and a half dozen of the Gila Pimas left camp about nine o'clock. Anza left Lt. Moraga in charge of the expedition's camp. Colonel Anza invited Sean to accompany the adults, partially because he had overheard Thomas' comments about the pottery, and partly as a reward for his work with the Pimas.

The governor of Uturitic provided the riders with the history of the ancient occupants and some of the traditions that had been handed down to present day Pima tribes. The group set out to explore and measure the ancient ruin. After examining the building and the ruins of the surrounding village, Father Font estimated the building must be five hundred years old. He also was convinced that it was not an earlier Gila Pima tribal town, since the pottery skills in evidence were not known to the Pimas of the this time.

Colonel Anza had Sean record the measurements, most of which were made by lance-length. Friar Font used his compass to get the buildings' orientation, which was oriented perfectly east/west for fifty feet, and north/south for seventy feet in length. The rooms were about eleven feet high, and three stories high. The group continued their study of the ancient structure for several hours. At one point, Sean climbed up as high as he could scrabbling over the rubble inside the tower in the southwest corner of the building. From this height he was able to peer out at a distant range and noticed a whitish band of rock near the top of the plateau. His Pima friend called this "espuma", or foam or froth, caused by a mystical event in the area's origins.

The party returned to the Gila River campgrounds in the middle of the afternoon. As they returned the governor recounted the legend of the building of the house, including the fanciful tale of how the heavy pine timber beams were transported. These could only have come from high mountains forests some 70 miles away.

Sean knew the writing and drafting of the buildings dimensions and construction details would occupy several of his evenings around the campfire. He knew Father Font would also be writing down the tales told by the Pima chieftain in his diaries.

 

Photo: The ruins at Casa Grande as they appear now *

 

CHAPTER 15: WINTER STRIKES !

November began before dawn that Wednesday morning for Sean. He always helped care for Colonel Anza's horses, and helped the drover look after the mules which carried their supplies. This particular morning, they curried and brushed the horses, checked their hooves for stones or bruises, and then fed them lightly. Each horse had to be led to the riverbank for water. The cold weather had begun in earnest.

Sean guessed that in a few more mornings, there might be a rime of ice on the edges of the quiet pools along the river's bank. Heavy gray clouds choked the skies above them and to the south the tops of heavy thunderstorms appeared every afternoon.

Next morning they left the Juturitucam village where nearly a thousand Gilas had celebrated the peace that Colonel Anza had commanded on his exploratory visit the year before. He had ordered the Pimas here and the Colorado Indians nearby to live in peace or the Spanish King would send many soldiers to enforce peace upon them. His threat had worked. Tonight they should camp at Sutaquizon, and the leaders here said another large body of grateful Pimas awaited them there.

It was a large crowd, which Anza himself estimated at 800 Pima tribal members that came from their pueblo and celebrated at the expedition's camp in mid-afternoon. Again beads and gifts were given to the Indians as a reminder of the beneficence of the King, and it acknowledged that the Pimas had kept the peace.

A single Opa brave had wandered into camp that afternoon. Sean was cleaning up some of the lunch meal debris. He turned at the sudden silence around him and saw this dark-skinned native, dressed only in a breach cloth and knee high moccasins, and carrying a bow and a few poorly made arrows. His face and upper body was painted red. None of the Pima interpreters were near by, so Sean greeted the brave with hand signals and a few Pima phrases that Thomas had taught him.

The Opa professed peace, and claimed that the Opas were now friendly with the Yuma tribe. The Colonel ordered the cook to give the man some jerky and water, and gave him a few blue beads, as a symbol of friendship.

That night the Opa brave stretched out under the stars some distance from the Colonel's tent. By dawn Sean found the Opa had left. The group did not break camp until ten that morning,

Colonel Anza sat in his tent, studying the maps. He called Sean to him as Sean finished preparing his mount for the morning departure. "Sean," Colonel Anza said quietly, "normally I might not have us advance on such a rainy day, but we have a very long day's travel ahead of us tomorrow, and I want to break up the trip into two segments. We also need to make sure our horses and mules have enough water for a long drive.

The Gila River bends away to the north some eight leagues, and then bends back to the south and southwest. If we follow the river, the leagues will be many and tiring, and as the river is dry here, except for small surface ponds.

We would not have enough water for the herds. Look here," he said, pointing with his knife point, "two leagues away to the west there are some small lagoons. We will travel to those ponds later today and rest our travelers and herd. Tomorrow we will take the long day's march fresh and well watered." Sean acknowledged the Colonel's orders.

Friday noon the skies finally made good on the threat of rain, and down it came as a heavy drenching rain. The cattle herd had left early in the morning the day before, and did so again today.

It turned out that their rest stop was longer than just that one afternoon. One soldier's wife became very ill during the night, and the expedition did not go forward the next day. It was the feast of San Carlos holiday, and the Colonel gave the soldiers a pint of Aguardiente . As a result there was a bit of drunkenness and many headaches the next day.

Sunday also, the group remained at the lagoons, the reason being the need for some of the ill to recover. Two of the women who were pregnant were too sick to travel, and Father Font also complained of a fever.

The drovers became alarmed at the condition of the horses and some of the cattle. The water in the lagoon was obviously making them sick after continued drinking of it. The people in the expedition drank only water drawn from the Gila River several miles away and carried into the camp by mules. Monday, the situation was much the same. Anza decided to call the camp, "The Hospital Lagoons" since it was where the sick women were being treated, and the stock became ill from the pond water. Father Pedro Font's fever turned to chills and he was weaker. He claimed it was because of the heat in Anza's tent where he was asked to work on the drawings of Casa Grande's ruins.

"We will leave in the morning," the Colonel ordered on Monday afternoon. Their way led toward the Pass of the Cocomaricopas in the Sierra de Comars. It was discovered as they packed early next morning that the Opa Indian had stolen Anza's china pot.

"Sean, come into my tent. Because you can read maps I will show you where I want you to return to us after you have found the Opa thief." The trail he marked skirted a low range of mountains running to the north and northwest. "We will go five leagues further on," said Colonel Anza. "It appears that there should be enough pasturage for the herds at this point."

Sean quickly made a sketch map in his journal book. Colonel Anza ordered one of the Pima scouts to accompany Sean as the Pima knew this part of the region.

The two were sent on horseback after the Opa. They overtook him after several hours of tracking him across the desert floor. The pot was sullenly returned, and Sean thought it strange that the Indian did not think taking the pot was a bad act. Sean looked at his sketch map. He and the scout estimated where they were, based on the morning's ride, and Sean's compass bearings to nearby peaks.

He and the scout headed almost due west for some six leagues. The two riders arrived at the Arroyo Seca, the expedition's name for the planned "Dry Wash" campground. Their ride brought them to camp an hour after camp had been set up. Sean returned the china pot to the Colonel's table in his tent. The Colonel had said nothing on his return. It was if nothing had happened. He appeared to Sean to be distracted.

An early start the next morning saw them safely through the Pass de Cocomaricopa after a few miles, and by four that afternoon the main party had reached Opasoitac . The cattle and saddle horse herd, even though they had started two hours ahead of the main party, did not arrive until dusk was turning into darkness.

Sean noticed that several of the men wore blankets in the cool of the evening, and unlike the Pimas of the Gila River community, these blankets were woven of black wool with white stripes. One of the Pima interpreters told Sean that the Opas trade with the Moquinos tribe for these black and white blankets. Some of the women used soft deerskin for their garments. Sean thought these would be very hot to wear on sunny days, but much appreciated on the chilly desert nights. During the day they wore skirts made from the inner bark of the cottonwood and willow trees that grew in profusion along the river. He also noted that it was the men that wore the gifts of glass beads and pendants around their necks, but the women of the Opa nation wore no jewelry that he could see. 'How opposite from most peoples,' he thought.

Sean and the Pima scout strolled through the pueblo after eating and saw that the local Opa Indians were eating rabbit and corn stew, wheat flour tortillas, and calabahses, which were gourds or squash they grew in gardens. These gardens get their water from the large flows of the Gila and the Assumpcíon rivers, which have combined here and spread out over the flat fields that stretched for a mile along the banks.

Sean remembered the irrigation canals that had been dug at Casa Grande to bring river water to the fields there. Here the water delivered itself to the flat lands. The Opa's diet differed from that of the Pimas, even those Gila Pimas from upstream. The farming or crop growing was easier here than where there was little flowing water.

Sean saw that the arrows the warriors carried were not as well made as the Pima shafts. He also noted that like the Pima, the braves did not carry quivers of arrows, but seemed to make do with three or four shafts for their hunting trips. He thought, 'they seem brave enough and must often fight the other tribes, but one would not describe them as warlike?'

The expedition was still losing a horse, mule or cow from the effects of the bad water, or simply from exhaustion. Five of the women were still sick, and while Father Font no longer sweated, he appeared flushed and shook with the chills and he began vomiting. Sean thought he probably still suffered with the fever he since he left Horcasitas.

One of the soldiers was shaking with chills, and was unfit for travel. The condition of the livestock, the illness of the women, the sick soldier and Friar Font's condition caused Colonel Anza to call a day of rest.

While working on his maps, Sean learned from the Opas that three tributaries formed the Assumpción River upstream. The Salado comes from distant Apache lands, and joins the Rio Azul and Rio Verde , which flow into the Gila some twenty or so miles northeast of this campsite. These tributaries often provide more water flow than does the Gila itself, but downstream it is still called the Gila by the local tribes.

Father Font believes the nature of the river volume here would facilitate ditch irrigation, or what he called an "acequia " to bring water directly into a mission should one be built there. He asked Sean to ride out and examine the branch of the Gila that flows away from the main river and carries part of the flow near some bordering hills. Since the party was resting, and this dealt with mapping and the future development of the area here, Colonel Anza agreed to let Sean, and his friendly Pima scout leave camp for several hours.

In the days that followed Sean spent more time with Father Font and with his map-making learning. He still helped the vaqueros tend Colonel Anza's personal riding horses. He was now trying to learn as much of the Yuma dialect as he could.

Father Garcés spoke it well having lived with the tribe for months over the previous four years. It was Father Francisco Garcés that introduced Colonel Anza to the Yuma leader, Salvador Palma on Anza's first exploratory mission in 1774. Father Garcès and Father Thomás were going to stay with the Yumas while the rest of the expedition went on into California and to settle San Francisco. He was pleased with Sean interest in learning the Yuma words and phrases.

The priest and Sean spent several evenings together as they approached the Yuma lands. Father Garcés had explored much of this part of the Sonoran Desert region since early in the 1770's. His maps and diaries were useful to Sean in learning more about this critical tribe to the expedition's success. The good Father also told Sean about other tribes and places he had visited along the Colorado River. He seemed pleased to have a student who could converse about matters other than churchly affairs. And Sean was intensely interested in everything he could learn about the people, their cultures, habits and traits. When asked by Father Garcés why he was so interested, Sean replied, "Father, I am alone in this land, and do not have a family anymore. I may end up living in these mountains and deserts for the rest of my life. I feel I must learn everything that I can to survive. Besides, I have been taught to observe, to watch carefully, to record by map and notes what I see and learn. My Mother was a teacher, and my father a Sergeant in his majesty's Army. They ingrained in me the love of learning and the benefits a learned man can obtain by knowing as much as he can!"

The expedition had finally moved forward on the Sunday past, to a spot called San Diego , a rancheria. Enroute they had forded the Gila, which was running as deep as the horses' shoulders. All made it across safely. Tuesday afternoon they came to Agua Caliente a hot spring set midst some cold water springs. Father Garcés took Sean along when the three friars walked from the springs up into the surrounding hills. At the top of these hills, Father Garcés pointed east and asked Sean if he recognized the peak on the horizon. "That's Baboquivari Peak , I believe. We have seen it from time to time ever since we left Tubac!"

"And do you know the proper name for that peak and it's mountain range?" asked the Friar.

"No father, I just assumed the Indian name was the proper name," said Sean. "Each tribe seems to call it the same, or what sounds like almost the same. I was told in Tubac that the mountain is considered a holy place by the natives. One called it the 'center of the universe' and another, "the gateway to Mother Earth."

"On our maps it is called "Sierra de la Cabeza del Gigante" or mountain of the giant's head. It has quite a distinctive shape, and when I was near to it my guides refused to climb its flanks. And as for me, I could see no way that a man might climb to it's top."

Father Garcés stood quietly looking at the distant peak, his face masked with wonder. He spoke in a subdued voice to Sean, "Perhaps it is a special place for all these tribes because they cannot obtain its crest. But for you and I it is a valued landmark, since it can been seen from the Santa Cruz River to the Colorado River bluffs."

As they returned from the hill tops it became evident that Father Font was becoming chilled and feverish again. "I hope that Colonel Anza will let us rest a day, and not only for Friar Font's health, but so that the saddle animals can graze on good grasses and fill up on good water. But I have learned it is not good to ask the Colonel for rest, especially for Father Font. It seems they do nothing but argue."

Father Garcès started as he spoke, and turned to Sean, "But you're not to tell him I said that, for it would do nothing but bring harm to all of us."

"Father, you are not the first or only one to notice that these two strong men have wills and minds of their own. I guess it is natural that a priest and a soldier not agree on many things. For some reason, the subject of saddle horses irritates my Colonel, ever since the Apache ran off most of the herd that he had collected at Tubac," said Sean.

"I understand that you were instrumental in recovering at least a portion of those stolen mounts," replied Garcés.

"I helped, but it seems to me that sometimes he almost blames me for the Apache raid in the first place. As it was, I had just arrived after the Pima and a renegade Apache had ambushed my father. But, I know the Colonel is determined that our expedition will succeed, and he often ignores anything that doesn't have a direct benefit to the journey."

"Ah yes, for that is his mission, as ours is the souls of these people of the wilderness," answered Father Garcés. "And you appear to be caught in the middle at times," chuckled the Father.

"No sir," answered Sean, "I am a cadet, a very small part of the Colonel's command. I do his bidding, and I try to always understand why he wants certain things done a certain way, but in all cases, he is my commander!" emphatically stated Sean.

"And that is as it should be, Sean," responded the priest.

The nature of Father Font's illness and the condition of some of the women did cause Colonel Anza to call a rest for the full day on Wednesday. Overnight the temperature dropped enough that the hot water drawn from the Aqua Caliente springs froze overnight in the water bags.

Colonel Anza spent a good portion of the day instructing the two local Opa tribesmen in their new duties. One, that the friars named "Carlos" was the new governor. The other, also nominated by the Opas, was called "Francisco", and would serve as "alcalde." Anza had earlier appointed Pimas and Yuma natives as officials for the Spanish King. The Opas wanted the same kind of recognition from the King for their tribe.

 

 

* Map of the area along the Gila River, east of the Colorado River, November, 1775. After map drawn by Patrick Witmer for University of Oregon's CATE from the original maps by Herbert E. Bolton in his "Anza's California Expeditions."

 

CHAPTER 16: IS EVERYONE LOST?

On Thursday morning the journey resumed. Very soon after dawn Anza sent four soldiers ahead to find the camp of Salvador Palma, and inform him that the expedition was approaching. He also wanted these four to then cross the Colorado River and seek out water and grazing for the herd on a new route to the San Sebastian Ciénaga. The route that Anza had used a year earlier was not good for this large group. He hoped to find a better route.

Fathers Font and Thomás left an hour or so later with Font's servant leading the pack animals. Two soldiers were sent to guide and protect the fathers on the march. Anza had agreed to let the two ailing friars leave early in the cooler part of the day. Their ride should have them encamped before noon and thus avoid the worst heat of the day. Thomás was suffering from the quartan ague, and Font still battled the chills and fever that had plagued him since before the expedition began.

The soldier guiding Font's party repeatedly got lost, and would not accept any suggestions from the Fathers on which one of the myriad paths and trails they encounter they should follow. The anticipated ten mile segment of the journey, which should have had them encamped in no more than four hours, lasted over twice as many miles and by 3 o'clock Father Font stopped in a small grove of cottonwoods.

Anza's 1774 expedition had used a little island they called San Bernadine as a camping site. It had excellent water and grazing for the mounts, and included some small Indian gardens or farm plots. Font's party had not encountered the island in their wanderings today, and with the friars' sickness and frustrations at the attitude of the guide, Font had had enough. He told the soldier, "I will go no further and will wait here for Colonel Anza!"

Even his servant and the pack mule had gotten separated and lost. The servant and the bone-weary pack animal wandered into the grove of trees about sunset. As day closed the four soldiers who had gone forward to Chief Palma's camp to give notice of the coming of the settlers rode into camp. They were headed north to find a crossing and find a better route across the dry and dusty terrain. Font's soldier guide left with them rather than stay and face the further anger of Friar Font, and perhaps that of Colonel Anza.

Anza, meantime, left Agua Caliente about nine thirty, and having failed to overtake them after 20 miles, he set up camp in an almeda, or poplar grove near San Bernadino. Concerned at the continued absence of Font's group, he sent Sean and the Sergeant Grijalva to find them. The two located the priests, the servant, and the pack animals, but no soldiers.

"Cadet Monahan, you stay with the Fathers and help set up camp and I will return to the Colonel, and send food and soldiers to spend the night. You will return as soon as they arrive here and things are established. And do what you can to renew their persons."

The Sergeant had only three miles to travel to Anza's camp. Anza detailed two soldiers to take fruit, chocolate bars, and biscuits to the friars. Sean had treated the two exhausted friars to the best of his ability. They were both feverish, and almost unconscious.

Colonel Anza was not happy with the day's activities. Although the land was flat, there were thick groves of bushes and high grasses, in which cattle and soldiers seemed to all-to-easily wander and lose themselves. The year before, very few paths or trails existed. Now, with peace between the tribes, many more trails had developed, and they crissed and crossed each other with no clear direction to follow.

The soldiers leading the settlers, and the drovers herding the horses, mules and cattle repeatedly lost their way. The herds did not arrive at the camp site until late at night. As a result of the extra miles everyone had traveled departure on Friday was delayed until after the noon hour. Every part of the expedition had become lost or seriously misplaced during this single day, and for a military leader, such confusion was intolerable. The march this day was barely a league and a half. They made early camp at a place called El Pescadero. The weather continued very cold during the night.

Colonel Anza called Sean to his tent at dawn the next day. "Cadet Monahan,' he said, 'can I trust you not to get lost if I ask you to scout around today's trail. Look for any sign of good water and feed for the cattle and horses. From what I recall of this area, we have only ditch reeds to feed the livestock, and that just won't do."

The Colonel laid out his probable march route for the day, and instructed Sean to meet him at the foot of the Cerro de San Pasqual , on the other side of the Gila River. He expected to arrive and make camp by the middle of the afternoon. Sean swung onto his horse, and began his scouting expedition on a tangent to their last segment of march toward Agua Caliente.

With the confusion of the previous day's march he thought he might find lost equipment, or a more clearly marked trail. He had not ridden more than few hundred yards when he encountered an extensive salt flat, caked white with mineral salts evaporated from previous river floods. He returned to camp and reported immediately to the Colonel.

"Finally, some good news', exclaimed Anza. "Sergeant, take five men, shovels and bags and a dozen of the settlers, and harvest us some salt. Our supplies are running low and we can always use good salt as Monahan claims this deposit to be. Sean, you resume your mission."

This time Sean rode right down the back trail, moving more rapidly as he waned to make up some of the time lost in finding and reporting the salt flat. He had completed half his northern loop when he saw movement on the back trail. It was a group of Opas Indians.

Leading the party were the recently appointed governor and the alcalde, ten men and four women. Sean intercepted them and by sign language and the few phrases he had learned of the Opas dialect, gathered they wanted to meet with Colonel Anza. The wanted to accompany the expedition to the Yuma village and hold meetings there with the Yuma Chieftain, Palma while they all were under the Colonel's presence. Father Garcés had told Sean that the Opas, or more formally, the Cocomaricopa tribe, occupied an area about 120 miles in diameter centering on the Gila River upstream from this point. Once again, Sean asked the Opas to accompany him and turned his horse toward the expected river crossing to intercept the march route.

Colonel Anza now seemed pleased. He sent some of the Indian scouts to ask the other Opas village leaders to join the expedition within the week for the peace parlay. The settlers and most of the cattle had just completed another fording of the Gila River. Anza decided to camp here, as one of the settler's wives was showing signs that she was going to have a baby immediately.

During the night the lusty cries of newly arrived boy named "Diego Pasqual" were heard in the campground. After naming the child and performing the proper ceremonies, Father Font and his small group rode forward and found good grass and pasturage, and the cattle and horse herd was moved forward. Father Font was still feverish, but Father Thomás was feeling much stronger.

One of the soldiers detailed to protect this forward party discovered a foamy white snow-like deposit of salt, differing from the granulated quality of the salt Sean had found the day before. Again, settlers and soldiers were assigned to recover and pack into the canvas sacks this valuable mineral. The child's mother being unable to travel, the whole group rested here another day.

The bitter cold during late November in this locality had caused the death of six of the saddle animals over the past four days.

On Wednesday the expedition was able to resume its journey. They rode along the river-bottom lands bordering the Gila, through sandy hills they called "médanos. For both cattle and horse, the walking was treacherous and the footing wearing on the strength of everyone. Fifteen miles in five hours was the best the group could manage, even after the few days of rest they had enjoyed. Their camp this night was at Santa Cicilia, a lone hill at whose foot good pasturage was abundant.

Thursday's start was recalled when the drovers and herders reported the cattle had wandered during the night into the brush beside the river banks, and refused to be driven out onto the trail. Those elements of the expedition that had begun the day's journey had to be returned to camp. This day was a no-progress day.

And yet another day was lost with the illness of an expectant mother, and in corralling the cattle. The stubbornness of the cattle and their fondness for the river bank grazing was shown when some of them charged like wild beasts at the drovers and cowboys trying to move them.

The 'day of rest' that had been called on occasions by Colonel Anza did not mean a restful day for Sean. He tended the Colonel's riding horses, checked the gear and packs for the commander, and spent any available time in talks with either Father Font or Father Garcés.

Font continued with Sean's mapping and geographical location instruction, often borrowing Colonel Anza's better quality instruments. Father Garcés taught Sean more native tongues, dialects, and sign-language movements. He also learned more about the customs and habits of the tribes with which the father had lived or visited.

Sean often thought that he could not have had better instruction in a university or college, as his teachers on this expedition were the finest, best qualified and most knowledgeable on the subjects he was needing to learn. The reading, mathematics and writing instruction from his mother, and the military education from his Sergeant father had given Sean Monahan skills and learning far beyond any he could have gotten in the schools of the day.

Now, he was being taught he ways of these Indians from Friars that actually lived among them. Here he could meet the native leaders, and work and visit with them in their villages. It was an opportunity he knew few young men on this continent would ever have the chance to receive.

Saturday's morning departure found the march moving along the brush-choked bottom lands along the river bank. Flood-tossed logs and river debris, and great rubbish heaps of brush and sticks further impaired rapid transit. Anza estimated they had moved about 12 miles in 4 fours . Soon after noon the herd found forage and the halt was called a at spot named Laguna Salada.

A messenger from Yuma Chieftain Palma arrived to inform Anza that Palma had waited at a camp for four days for the expedition to arrive, and had now returned to his home to prepare for the group's actual arrival. He asked to receive word of the delayed arrival so that lodging and food could be prepared. The Yumas had been joined by the Jalchedunes, a tribe located on the Colorado upstream of the Yumas.

Sunday's march route led along the same kind of scrub lands bordering the river, but the movement was slowed as the debris and deep sandy tracks. The river was occasionally seen through the brush, and Father Thomás caught a fairly good sized matalote. Sean had gone along with Father Thomás, and on what was to be their final cast, caught an even larger matalope for their dinner. From their various fishing soirées it was apparent to the two of them that their were few other species of fish in this river in this area.

As the two fishermen turned from the riverbank, Sean noticed on the other side of the river, a range of rocky, rough shaped, and arid mountains and in the distance a square shaped peak, with four points. He pointed at it, and Father Garcés explained, "we call it "El Bonete."

Monday's journey across the sand terrain was done at the slow pace of three miles an hour. The arduous progress through the deep and yielding sandy soil meant another days' shortened trip. After three hours, Anza called a halt to the march at a stretch of good pasture, definitely lacking along the sandy shores of the river, and apparently all the way to the junction of the Gila and the Columbia rivers. His scouts returned to suggest this spot, they called Los Cerritos. .

An event happened a little after three o'clock that gave Sean a further example of the dominance of the Spanish Priests in the lives of the local tribes. The Yuma captain, or chief, Salvadore Palma suddenly appeared with about thirty of his tribesmen. He warmly embraced Colonel Anza, and the three Friars.

Along with Palma was another Yuma chieftain, called by Father Garcés "Captain Feo," from his earlier association with him as leader of the Yumas at the rancherias near the 1774 camp at San Pablo. The 1774 expedition had called him "Captain Feo Pablo, " and this time he simply was called by the Fathers, "Captain Pablo." He was a subordinate chief to Palma, but very influential, and has more tribal followers than Palma. He is an excellent orator, and harangued the people 'to honor the Spaniards, and not to steal from them, because they were friends.'

Sean thought it a bit strange that the Colonel and the Friars did not learn the leaders native names, but assigned each one they met with a Spanish language name, and henceforth used only that name in communications.

That night around the campfire Anza explained to Sean that in the first meeting in 1774, Captain Feo (Pablo) carefully counted Anza's force, and murmured that his men could kill them and steal their weapons. Feo did not realize his comments had been translated to Anza, who informed Feo that he would assemble all of his men, and then Feo would learn of the power and bravery of the Spaniards.

Anza threatened that his entire forces would punish the Yumas, at which point Feo reversed his opposition to the exploratory expedition's crossing of the Colorado River, and became obsequious, professing affection and respect for Anza and his men. Sean realized that with the natives, their professed feelings often masked more malicious intentions.

Cadet Monahan was again alerted to the need for caution and careful dealings with the various individuals. He knew also, that in his own experience that some of the Indians were true to their word and greatly to be trusted.

In this gathering it was Captain Palma who ruled, and he was most anxious to learn if the King of Spain had indeed granted him the wish to have the respected Fathers, and some Spaniards would come and live with him and his people.

Palma reminded Colonel Anza that he had indeed made peace with all his neighboring tribes, except one tribe across the Colorado that refused his overtures. Anza replied, thanking Palma for his allegiance, and assuring him that Father Garcés and Father Thomás would indeed be staying with the Yuma, and that he expected Palma and his people to shelter and protect them, and that the fathers would teach the Yuma the ways that the Spanish King had decreed.

 

* Map of the Arizona portion of the Juan Bautista de Anza National Historic Trail, traveled in November 1775. After map drawn by Patrick Witmer for University of Oregon's CATE from the original maps by Herbert E. Bolton in"Anza's California Expeditions."

CHAPTER 17: ACROSS THE COLORADO

Tuesday, after another four leagues and four hours of travel, the expedition reached the shores of the Colorado at its junction with the Gila River. Colonel Anza estimated their journey from Tubac to be 312 miles, not counting the side trip to Casa Grande. A final fording of the Gila had brought them to the camp prepared by Captain Palma for the expedition. His people had also prepared a feast of beans calabashas, watermelon, wheat and maize. There certainly was an abundance of watermelon, the Sergeant estimating that 3,000 melons were on hand.

The marchers prepared to rest for a few days as they had to prepare a building for the two Franciscan Fathers who be living throughout the winter with the Yuma and their neighbors until Colonel Anza returned on his way back to Tubac.

From across the river that morning came the message that Anza's four soldier scouts had returned from their explorations. The scout's senior reported no success in discovering a new and better route through the upcoming mountains.

The way to the Pacific Ocean would have to follow the same path Anza had used on his first expedition. There were no signs of natives, or of their trails in the immediate vicinity &endash; it was as if no one traveled in the direction Anza wished to go. Colonel Anza studied his maps, held discussions with Captains Palma and Pablo about the river crossing, as their appeared to be no ford available at this location. He knew that expedition would halt here for a short time preparing the Father's home, but he was anxious to make up lost time by getting across the Colorado and once again on his way to the sea.

A matter of politics was settled in the afternoon. The Opas, led by Carlos and Francisco, joined the Yumas assembled and gave strong assurances of their desire for a lasting peace. Captain Palma did not care to be addressed by Carlos from atop his horse, and bade him dismount and talk, face-to-face.

This done, Captain Pablo then assured the Opas that peace was indeed the desire of the Yumas, and called the assembled Opas "Queyé", or fellow citizens. Embraces followed, and feasting began. Anza informed them that this peace was the kind that the King of Spain desired, and if they did not keep the peace, Anza and his troops would avenge any wrong done by one tribe on another. He had said the same thing a year before, and there was evidently an active peaceful effort being made, for Sean noticed that there was evidence of trading between the tribes.

Father Garcés told Sean that whereas last year no Indians here had blankets, now they had blankets made by the Opas, or the Moqui, or the kind made by the Jalchedunes could be seen on various other tribe members. At the feast that evening, gifts were exchanged, and provisions given by the Yumas to the Opas for their return journey.

Father Font took Captain Palma aside and strongly questioned him about the Yuma commitment to safeguard the two Franciscan priests. He told Palma that if all went well, that other priests and teachers would come and live with the Yuma and teach carpentry, masonry, farming skills, and together they would build villages where the people could live close together, and not scattered among the hills and dunes. To all this Palma seemed most agreeable, and that he wished it could happen now and not "soon."

Fording the Colorado was going to be difficult, as it was now much higher and stronger in its water flow than its level of a year ago. Anza's soldier explorer reported he had found no safe way across the river up to now. Anza thought he might build rafts, but the Indians explained the current would most likely sweep them away, and that the cattle and mounts would be certainly drowned if they tried to cross here.

It was also too cold in the river for anyone swept from a raft to survive until rescued. The Colorado's water came from mountain snows and was bitter cold. Anza sent some local Yumas and the Jalchedun guides both up and down stream to see if there were a safe crossing.

He, and Sean with another soldier went with one of the Yuma warriors, north through the heavy thickets bordering the Colorado shores. Crossing the Gila had been child's play compared with attempting to cross the much wider and stronger Colorado River waters. Building rafts, if that were possible, would further delay the crossing and their departure.

Pushing through the heavy underbrush they came to a place where the river split into three channels. The water was deep, but each of the three torrents was shorter than anywhere else they had prospected. Anza also decided that they would have to cut a road through the massed thicket to get to this location. A work team was sent out to the heavy undergrowth, and by full darkness the road had been cut through to the river's bank. Tomorrow they would tackle the three crossing.

On Thursday, the last day of November, the pack animals, saddle horses and mules, were assembled on the near side of a crossing of about two hundred and fifty yards of actual cold flowing waters. Each of the pack animals took half loads over, and returned for the second portion. Each of the women and children were led across on the strongest and largest horses. Stationed downstream guarding these crossings were ten men to help should anyone be dismounted.

Sean was one of the ten, since Sean, although young, was a strong swimmer, and not too many of the expedition's men could swim One man, carrying a child fell off, but was rescued by Sean and another soldier. It seemed providential that when this type of accident occurred again on the second segment of the crossing, Sean alone collected the child and took him to the far shore safely.

It was soon obvious that everyone and all the equipment could not complete all three crossings in a single day, even though they had started at seven in the morning. Anza escorted Father Font to Captain Palma's camp, where he should stay until the next morning.

At nine the following morning Father Font and the remaining baggage and stock completed a safe fording of the Colorado. The water depth was as high as a horse's shoulders on the final ford, but fortunately the river was not at its highest level, or the crossing would not have been possible, in Father Font's opinion. His horse managed the crossing accompanied by one native leading the horse and one wading on each side to stabilize the friar, who was 'ill and dizzy headed,' as he expressed it. He, and his two associates reached the west side of the river, with Father Garcés being lifted and carried bodily by three Yumas on their shoulders.

Father Thomás waded the river with the aid of a strong Yuma on each side. The two priests went to Palma's home near where their cabin would be built for their stay with the Yumas.

 

* Map of the Colorado River and Gila River junction area to San Sebastian. Time: December, 1775. After map drawn by Patrick Witmer for University of Oregon's CATE from the original maps by Herbert E. Bolton in his "Anza's California Expeditions."

 

The next morning the Colonel, his Lieutenant, and several soldiers went to Palma's camp, close by which they began the building the cabin that the two friars would use until Colonel Anza returned from the Pacific Coast. It was expected that it might be four months before Anza's return. Anza commanded the muleteers to aid in the construction, and Sean volunteered to assist in any way that he could. Over the next two days the work on the cabin progressed.

Monday, the expedition began to move again to the southwest, thrashing their way through the thickets and underbrush which was so thick that the long horned cattle could not force their way through. As a result, they were herded into a pasture about two miles from the evening's campsite. They ended the day at the village of San Pablo, 15 miles along the river's banks. This was the end of Captain Palma's tribal territorial jurisdiction.

The bitter cold night had claimed two more of the saddle animals, and the humans who were reported as being sick or ill reached a list of a dozen. Colonel Anza often administered the medicines to the ill. Father Font suffered another bout of tertian fever, which later proved to be the last bout he suffered on the journey.

Tuesday the group covered another nine miles, and stopped at one o'clock, near the village of Laguna de Los Coxas. The settlers and soldiers had to wind their way around the various clumps of brush through which the road could not be forced. It took the cattle herd another four hours to arrive. They dined on one of the beef cattle, which Colonel Anza ordered killed every six days as a source of food for the expedition' s personnel.

Wednesday, three local Cogat fishermen, using their nets, gathered in just over an hour over one thousand good-sized fish, matalotes, curbinas and skates for the party. These were salt water fish that periodically get trapped in the ponds along the Colorado River's flood basin. They made an excellent change to the expedition's diet.

The presence of typical sea fishes here proved the natives statements that the river did not fall much between here and the coast itself. Colonel Anza decided to rest the people and the animals for a several days, especially since his scouts indicated that they would encounter a long stretch of travel without fully adequate supplies of water.

 

* Map of the Arizona portion of the expedition from San Sebastian to San Gabriel, and the detour from there to San Diego and return to quell the rebellion. Time: December 1775 .After map by Patrick Witmer for University of Oregon's CATE from the original maps by Herbert E. Bolton in his "Anza's California Expeditions."

 

 

CHAPTER 18 - DEADLY PASSAGES:

Colonel Anza decided to split the expedition into three groups, sending each section on the trail a day apart. This action would allow the wells and springs on the journey to replenish themselves between the settlers and the saddle and pack animals drinking from them. Forage was also known to be minimal on the next two day's segments. Some forage rations were packed on the mules to supplement poor grazing along this stretch.

Colonel Anza formed his expedition into three divisions. The initial group was led by Anza, Father Font, their servants, 12 soldiers and their families, their pack animals and saddle animals. Sean as included in this group to serve as an additional courier if needed, and to give care to Colonel Anza's mounts.

Sergeant Grijalva led the second group, which also included a dozen soldiers, the pack train, and some saddle animals. Lieutenant Alferez Don Joseph Morega led the third group, again with twelve soldiers, the remainder of the pack animals, and the balance of the saddle horses.

The cattle, their tending cowboys and the remaining soldiers left Sunday and marched hard across the sand dunes straight to San Sebastian's water holes. The cattle would be herded forward for a two day waterless journey from Carrisal to San Sebastian.

A large gathering of both the Yumas and the Cajuenches were there as the various segments departed on the hazardous trek. The Yumas had brought many hundreds of watermelons to provide the various segments with a portable source of moisture and fruit.

Saturday morning the initial team set out, making fifteen miles in the five hours of travel. Their camp was set up at Carrisal, whose wells were also known as "Pozos de la Alegria." The horses and mules could be watered from canvas sacks or bags, but cattle herd had to drink from ponds or pools, and there were none of these before the herd would reach San Sebastian. Each group would pack grain and forage grasses to feed their own animals at the day's camp.

The only good thing about Sunday's travel, by Sean's reckoning, was the abundance of firewood in the dry canyon they chose for camp that evening. The intense cold was not easily offset without fires, and most of this desert did not have trees or brush enough to provide firewood for the travelers.

Anza ordered a pre-dawn departure Monday, and the group made 30 miles over the next ten hours. The Wells of Santa Rosa de Las Lajas had to be strenuously dug out by the soldiers and the settlers. Colonel Anza himself took his turn at opening the wells. These wells had to flow enough to supply a hundred horses and pack animals over each of the next two days of use by the following segments of the expedition.

Tuesday, after a three AM watering of the horses and mules, the wells were again worked on to improve water flow. By late morning they resumed their trip. Now the group traveled north and northwest, going some twelve miles to a spot where firewood and grass provided a reasonable campgrounds. Threatening clouds promised either snow or bitter cold rains that night and into the next morning.

Seventeen miles of hard marching Wednesday brought them to the Marsh of San Sebastian, which was surrounded by snow-clad mountain ranges. By nightfall the snow and bitter winds drove a thick blanket of snow onto the campground. Sean and five of the settlers had walked mules into the nearby hills to gather firewood as soon as the campsite had been selected. They returned with heavy loads of wood lashed to the mule's packframes, and these provided warming fires throughout the night. It was necessary to continue this wood gathering to supply the next two divisions that would begin arriving. Firewood stacks were built for those following.

The scouts reported that these two trailing groups had encountered much worse rain, snow and cold than the initial group had survived.

The second division had several people nearly frozen by their exposure during the march. One had to be bundled in blankets and thawed between four large fires for two hours to restore his health for travel. Five saddle animals died of the severe cold during this stage of the march.

The Indians Sean met here at San Sebastian were called by the priests, "Tomiár," and were a very small group of perhaps twenty to thirty people. They were very poorly clothed, often almost without clothing. They looked ill and poorly fed. The bows were poor and the few arrows Sean saw were barely usable.

He noticed that these men and the older youths had another weapon, or hunting tool. They used it to strike down rabbits, and prairie dogs. It was a thin, flat piece of hard wood, 3 inches in width, formed in the shape of a curve or crescent. They called these throwing sticks "macana." Sean had taken one of the youngsters with him on horseback, and learned how the youth threw the macana to kill a rabbit. On several occasions, the stick, if it missed hitting the rabbit when thrown, would curve back at them. Sean was not quite able to master this strange and innocent looking tool on his attempts to hunt with it.

The leaders waited all day Saturday for the third group to come up and join them, but in the meantime the cold had killed four of the cattle. Some of the natives here tried to steal four of the horses, and the Colonel ordered the Sergeant and four soldiers to go after the Indians and retrieve the mounts. This search took all day and no further progress was made this day. It was after seven in the evening when the four missing mounts were returned. Meanwhile everyone else tried to keep warm and rest.

Sunday dawned with no sign of the third division, and at seven o'clock, the Colonel ordered two soldiers to take twenty of the saddle animals as remounts to find the Lieutenant's group. At the last moment, he called Sean to his side.

"Sean, take my mount, "Bruto" and go with these soldiers, and urge Lt. Morega to make whatever haste he can to return to us. If he is unable to complete the trip today, you ride straight back and inform me of his groups' condition. On second thought, you talk with him, determine what he needs even if he will be here today. Come and tell me what is going on, so we can be ready to assist his party."

Sean saluted, and took the Colonel's mount which he had been grooming and feeding, and galloped after the two soldiers and their trailing string of mounts. He knew that there had to be a good reason for the third division's delay. He knew Lt. Morega was an experienced and capable leader. Sean was shocked by what he found when the relief party rode up to the third division a little after ten o'clock.

While the division had a clear path to follow, and the wells at the stop were flowing, no one had anticipated the effect of extreme cold and the snow had on the group because it caught them in the open and exposed to high winds. Several of the men and two of the women were nearly dead from freezing. Six of the party's original saddle animals had been abandoned because they were unable to walk, and of the six, four died along the trail. Lt. Morega, in his attempts to save his command, continually moved about keeping the fires lit, and checking the men and women. However, his exposure to the cold and wind had frozen his ears, and he was deaf!

Sean rode rapidly back to the main encampment and reported the Lt. and his party's condition to Colonel Anza. Anza immediately sent out a small party of soldiers to further assist the group into main camp. The cold was so bitter that afternoon and evening they lost four more head of cattle.

They delayed their departure the next day until early afternoon. When they rode out from their sheltered canyon they found every mountain range around them bearing heavy blankets of snow. Today's weather was considerably warmer, and spirits rose and bodily ills receded. For the first time in a week, the sun shone. Everyone felt better in the warming sunshine, both the stock and the settlers.

By late afternoon they had gone another ten miles, and camped about four o'clock. The cattle herd, which left three hours before the march began, did not arrive at the campgrounds until well after six o'clock. Another two cows died from injuries or simply from exhaustion heightened by the cold.

Tuesday's westward march brought them to San Gregorio, which had appeared to have good water in its wells. This very quickly played-out, and by nightfall no more water flowed, even thought Colonel Anza ordered the wells dug deeper. The lack of water was becoming a serious problem, especially for the cattle and the riding stock were not accustomed to the extreme cold. That night four more of the cattle died, and three of the mules.

Ahead of them loomed the foothills of the mountain range that stretched southward to the Gulf of California. There appeared to be passes through these ranges, but the cold and the total lack of water supplies sufficient to support the stock forced Anza to command the march to resume early the next morning. They could not remain where they were, for the stock deaths from cold had continued through the night.

During this day's march eleven more cattle died of the freezing cold and total exhaustion, and three of the mounts also collapsed and died along the trail. The cattle herd did not even make the days campsite, called "El Vado," by evening. Anza sent troopers back with fresh mounts for the vaqueros and the soldier guards. They had finally rode out of the sand dunes during the day's ten mile march, and into a well watered, wooded and sheltered valley.

It was Saturday, December 23rd, before Colonel Anza felt that the people and the stock were rested enough to resume the march along the valley at the foot of the Santa Catharina range. A few hours later, and some five miles further to the northwest, they came to the actual village of Santa Catharina. There, Anza called a halt for the day as they had been riding in driving rains since morning. Here at least there was some shelter, wood for fires and a village of some forty natives.

It was hard for Sean to realize that the calendar was saying this was almost the time of Holy Days. The weather was bitter cold, with little relief. Several people on the expedition were ill, and cattle and riding mounts and pack animals were dying from cold and exhaustion. Sean was definitely depressed. Father Font noticed him standing and staring out at the mountains across the valley.

"What troubles you, young Sean?"

"Father, I know that we are just hours from celebrating the Our Dear Lord's birth, and yet I am having trouble relating that to our strained situation. We suffer much, and our animals even more."

"Oh, Sean, this place is perfect for such a celebration. Jesus was born in land much like this. His birth-land was hard, the climate often as rigorous as what we have survived. He, too, was born midst desert sands nestled between mountain heights. December in any desert is likely to be the same, no matter what the century. Be of good cheer, youngster, for we will survive."

Father Font's comments did seem to lessen their plight, and Sean accepted the friar's challenge to look again with different eyes on his situation. "I will try, Father, for I know I am but a young boy, and have not the wisdom that comes with your years and training."

"Ah, my son, and by such a statement I know you are older than your years. You love learning, and care about others. You are not afraid of adversity, but your unusual young life has made you properly cautious. I feel you will go far and under God's care," said Father Font.

"At least to this new village by the ocean shore that is called San Francisco, I hope," replied Sean. They both chuckled at his attempt at humor. Sean's feelings were lifted and he thanked the friar for his words and turned back to his chores.

Sunday morning, the 24th of December, following an all night rain, the expedition marched off to the northwest. The broad path followed was strewn with stones and rocks. The pre-dawn rains quit, but during the morning and into the afternoon, their way was marked with heavy fog, and low clinging clouds. They had gone fifteen miles in slightly over three hours. Most of the walk was up the slope of a wide arroyo, scattered with mescal, hediondilla and galleta grass. The walls of the canyon was formed from boulders of all size, rounded in shape, as if they were rough-polished river rock. Very little water was in evidence, and no woody plants, shrubs or trees. In the thick fog, Sean almost stumbled over a wild sheep's horns beside the path. They emerged from the fog to find a village Colonel Anza recalled from his exploration here a year ago. It was called "Los Danzantes," for the strange behavior of the natives here.

Sean was surprised to see that these "Danzantes" lived in homes half dug into the earth. The walls above the earth were piles of stone and branches, slathered with mud and earth. And he soon learned why Anza's men earlier had named them "Dancers" The men jumped from their earthen holes making wild gestures, gyrating, slapping their thighs, jumping like wild goats, and shouting angrily. Their hand and arm gestures would seem to be telling the expedition not to come their way, or to 'go away', or around their homes.

Late that afternoon another of the expedition's women began childbirth pains. Her son was born at a few minutes before eleven that Christmas Eve night The expedition rested here on Christmas Day. Father Font baptized the boy, "Salvador Ygnacio." The cattle were herded back to some water they passed since there was not enough for the resting settlers due to the minimal amount of water and the poor grasses. Later, a stream of running water was found just a mile off of their journey's pathway. It also had very good forage for a large herd. That was noted on the charts and maps for future traveler's use.

 

CHAPTER 19: THROUGH THE SAN CARLOS PASS!

That next day their valley narrowed, and through the morning's rain they climbed one ridge after another, and soon found themselves in a saddle of the hills called the "Pass of San Carlos." The Sierra Madre range of mountains through which they had just passed runs all the way south to the sea at Baja California.

As he was helping prepare the Colonel's evening meal, and complete tending to the horses, Sean experienced a weird sensation. The ground beneath his feet shook! He looked about thinking they were experiencing a rock slide. But no, the hillside was not shaking from rocks falling and tumbling, but the earth of valley and the hills seemed to heave and roll, like small waves upon the sea! And this heaving motion and terrible grinding sound continued for several minutes.

From all around them was a dominating rumbling roar. Many in the camp were quite alarmed, and Sean admitted that he, too, was on edge. Father Font stepped from his tent and loudly exclaimed, "Do not fear, it is just an earthquake! The earth moves, and make that sound. Do not be surprised if don't have another 'quake in a few more minutes!"

The friar was so calm and matter-of-fact about the earth's movement, and the rumbling sounds, that all of them shrugged, shook their heads as if they had done something foolish, and went about their duties.

As they made camp on this wide plain formed by the saddle between the mountain ranges, they could see deep snows on the Sierra Madre to the northwest, and on the right, the Sierra Nevada range. The most welcome thing about the view was that the valley and mountains beyond were a verdant green. Ahead could be seen lush grasses in the valley, and leafy trees upon the slopes, and glints of running streams. Using the Father's compass, and following his maps, Sean plotted the spur of mountains which ran toward San Diego.

After the bitter cold and barren desert, such a view lifted their hopes and spirits that perhaps the worst part of their journey was over. Here was forage and water in abundance, and wood for fires and cooking. The expedition moved briskly ten miles to the west-northwest, passing at mid-jounery the Laguna del Principe. They made camp at San Patricio, after traversing some boggy ground.

The previous night's cold had claimed two more of their cattle, and one horse. The mountain sides above their route were deeply covered in snow, so much so that few trees could be seen. Some of the people had never seen such snow, and their thoughts were that so much snow meant much more extreme cold, and they feared for their lives. Both Anza and Font explained that the snow was at heights far above them, and that the valleys were protected from extremes of cold such as they earlier encountered.

Wednesday's journey had introduced Sean to a new item for his wilderness diet. As Father Font pointed out, they were now seeing many clumps of roses, which though small and only bearing five petals, were fragrant. They were also dried out due to the lateness of the season. Some had just the red seed pods, and Father Font tasted some of these and offered a handful to Sean. "Here, I think you'll enjoy the change in your diet!"

Sean tentatively bit into and chewed one of the pods, and found their taste to be refreshing. "Do you think the Indians here eat these as well as the live oak's acorns we see hanging on the huts?" They had been riding a bit ahead of the main party, and had noticed three small native huts, which were empty for the moment. However, shucks of acorns were festooned from the sticks thrusting out from the roof line.

"I can think of no other reason to gather and string them as they have, can you, Sean?" It was obvious the Indians had seen the large group coming and run into the woods to hide. "Did you also see the lavender, and they tend herbal gardens as well. With the woods and grasses in abundance, I suspect their hunting is rather easy and their stomachs kept full," continued the friar.

Sean dropped back to see if there were any orders from Colonel Anza. As he did so he noticed three of the more experienced soldiers ride out ahead of the head of the column. He drew up alongside Colonel Anza, and the Colonel chuckled as he said, "I suppose you wonder why I sent those veterans away from the column?"

"I would not presume to question you, my Colonel -- but I admit to an interest as to why they leave just past our noon meal," replied Sean.

"Since thinking about this trip during last year's exploration, I had hoped to be able to go directly to the mission at Monte Rey. It is obvious now that our cattle could not make that journey, and that we would probably lose most of our pack and saddle mounts as well. I must count on the missions along this route to give us help.

The military commander out here in Alta California is Don Fernando Rivera y Moncada. I have sent those messengers to the missions along our route, and to Don Rivera asking for aid and directions to expedite our mission. He should also be able to give us information relating to the best route to the Rio de San Francisco.

There was to be a packet boat standing by for our arrival, and he needs to know when I can expect to arrive, and our expedition's condition. And that, Sean, is why I sent three of my best and experienced cavalrymen on ahead. If this valley is any indication, our journey from here to the coast should not suffer the extremes of cold and lack of water which have plagued us these last six weeks."

Colonel Anza had pointed out on his maps to Sean the locations of the various missions at which he now planned to stop. These maps were mainly drawn from his earlier expedition and the military charts he had been able to gather in Mexico.

He continued, "But tomorrow we must rest again for a day because of the illness of our people. I will send the worst horses on ahead without packs or riders, that they may have an easier and slower passage to our camp on the Señor San Joseph River."

Friday , December 29th, Sean remembered as a day of many stream and river fordings. In almost twenty miles of traveling downstream through the valley of San Patricio, it seemed they were wading or fording the shallow waters all the time. Sean heard Sergeant Grijalva remark he had almost lost count but that he estimated they had crossed running water two hundred times. Sean noted the usually meticulous Colonel had not corrected the Sergeant's number.

Their camp that night was on the shores of the San Joseph River, which falls from the Sierra Nevada range through a broad and lovely valley, but without much wood for fires being found. It was aptly dubbed, "Paradise Valley" by the members of the expedition.

It runs ultimately into a large lake, San Antonio Bucareli, on whose shores the group settled that evening. For the first time in many weeks the day's journey was pleasant, both in the weather, and in the lands through which the expedition passed. The next day was much the same with their journey equaling another twenty miles. The wood they had carried sustained the people throughout the night, but again the freezing cold during the night claimed another two horses and one cow.

Sunday, the 31st, they came to the shores of the River of Señora Santa Anna, a forced march of some 21 miles, the landscape bereft of firewood, which required them to pack the firewood along for their survival. The exhausted cattle, driven separately, arrived at midnight. The herd had lost another cow, and two of the weaker horses which had been herded along with the cattle.

The New Year dawned cold on the near shore of the river, whose current was much stronger than expected. It was not the depth of water that stopped the fording by people and animals, but the speed of the water's flow. The bridge that Colonel Anza had constructed the year before when exploring this route had to be reinforced for the passage of the expedition. It was also necessary to cut a road for the cattle to use in reaching the approach to the bridge.

The people and most of the perishable supplies were carried over, and then the bulk cargo. Even the cattle had difficulty fording the stream above the bridge, and another horse and a cow were lost to the rushing waters. The rest of the stock navigated the river, but all of this special handling and movement took time and it was three in the afternoon before the expedition had crossed over. The Colonel then ordered the cattle and the weakest of the mounts to begin the next leg of the journey, to lessen tomorrow's distance to be covered.

As the Colonel stood on the far shore, pondering his best course of action, terrible news arrived. The three soldiers he had sent to San Diego on the 27th returned, with seventeen horses for Colonel Anza from the mission of San Gabriel. It was their news that was most distressing.

The corporal in charge of the detail reported a revolt at the Mission San Diego. One of the ministering friars, Father Luis Jaume, was killed, as were two of his servants. The small buildings in the pueblo were burned. All the garrison soldiers had been wounded. The corporal was unable to deliver or forward the message the Colonel had intended for thearea's military commander, Don Fernando Rivera y Moncada, who was away from the Presidio at San Diego.

 End of Segment(s) 3-4 (Chapters 14-19)

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