San Juan is the only romantic spot in California. The country here
for several miles is high table-land, running boldly to the shore, and
breaking off in a steep hill, at the foot of which the waters of the
Pacific are constantly dashing. For several miles the water washes the
very base of the hill, or breaks upon ledges and fragments of rocks
which run out into the sea. Just where we landed was a small cove,
or "bight," which gave us, at high tide, a few square feet of
sand-beach between the sea and the bottom of the hill. This was the
only landing-place. Directly before us, rose the perpendicular
height of four or five hundred feet. How we were to get hides down, or
goods up, upon the table-land on which the mission was situated, was
more than we could tell. The agent had taken a long circuit, and yet
had frequently to jump over breaks, and climb up steep places, in
the ascent. No animal but a man or monkey could get up it. However,
that was not our look-out; and knowing that the agent would be gone an
hour or more, we strolled about, picking up shells, and following
the sea where it tumbled in, roaring and spouting, among the
crevices of the great rocks.
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