As we drew near
the islands off Santa Barbara, it died away a little but we came-to at
our old anchoring-ground in less than thirty hours from the time of
leaving Monterey.
Here everything was pretty much as we it- left the large bay
without a vessel in it; the surf roaring and rolling in upon the
beach; the white mission; the dark town and the high, treeless
mountains. Here too, we had our south-easter tacks aboard again,-
slip-ropes, buoy-ropes, sails furled with reefs in them, and ropeyarns
for gaskets. We lay here about a fortnight, employed in landing goods
and taking off hides, occasionally, when the surf was not high; but
there did not appear to be one-half the business doing here that there
was in Monterey. In fact, so far as we were concerned, the town
might almost as well have been in the middle of the Cordilleras. We
lay at a distance of three miles from the beach, and the town was
nearly a mile farther; so that we saw little or nothing of it.
Occasionally we landed a few goods, which were taken away by Indians
in large, clumsy ox-carts, with the yoke on the ox's neck instead of
under it, and with small solid wheels.
Pages:
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156