The nearest house,
they told us, was a Rancho, or cattle-farm, about three miles off; and
one of them went up, at the request of our officer, to order a horse
to be sent down, with which the agent, who was on board, might go up
to the Pueblo. From one of them, who was an intelligent English
sailor, I learned a good deal, in a few minutes' conversation, about
the place, its trade, and the news from the southern ports. San Diego,
he said, was about eighty miles to the leeward of San Pedro; that they
had heard from there, by a Mexican who came up on horseback, that
the California had sailed for Boston, and that the Lagoda, which had
been in San Pedro only a few weeks before, was taking in her cargo for
Boston. The Ayacucho was also there, loading for Callao, and the
little Loriotte, which had run directly down from Monterey, where we
left her. San Diego, he told me, was a small, snug place, having
very little trade, but decidedly the best harbor on the coast, being
completely land-locked, and the water as smooth as a duckpond. This
was the depot for all the vessels engaged in the trade; each one
having a large house there, built of rough boards, in which they
stowed their hides, as fast as they collected them in their trips up
and down the coast, and when they had procured ; full cargo, spent a
few weeks there, taking it in, smoking ship, supplying wood and water,
and making other preparations for the voyage home.
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