e soil. The poor Indians, who were often half
starved upon the plains, found here light employment, shelter and abundant
food. The statistics to which we refer, state that the Mission had seventy
thousand head of cattle, four thousand two hundred horses, four hundred
mules, and two hundred and fifty sheep.

These Missions, several of which were established in a line, within about
fifty miles of the Pacific coast, belonged to the Spanish government, and
were supported by the revenues of the crown. Animals multiplied with great
rapidity upon those luxuriant and almost boundless prairies. They ranged
sometimes, it was said, spreading out over a hundred thousand acres of
wonderfully fertile pastures. There must of course, have been much
guess-work in estimating the numbers of these vast herds, generally
wandering unattended at their pleasure. But with such supplies of animal
and vegetable food there was no fear of want. The indolent Indians
consequently gathered around the Missions in great numbers. They were all
fond of show, and not unwillingly became such Christians as consists in
attending the ceremonies of the church.

The Mission, with its buildings, cultivated fields and vast herds, seemed
like the garden of Eden to our weary travellers. They however, remained
here but one day, as they were not on a tour of pleasure but in pursuit of
furs. A day's travel brought them to another but much smaller Mission,
called San Fernando. Without any delay they pushed on towards the west,
their object being to enter the valley of the Sacramento river, where they
had been told that beavers could be found in great abundance. They
expected to reach the banks of this now renowned, but then scarcely known
river, after a few days' journey in a northeast direction. They were now
in a delightful region. The climate was charming. Brooks of crystal water,
and well filled with fishes, often crossed their path. There was abundant
forage for their cattle; and forest and prairie seemed alive with game.

They soon reached the banks of the San Joaquin, a lovely stream flowing
northerly and emptying into the Sacramento near its mouth. There, finding
a very eligible camping site, and many indications of beaver in the
stream, Mr. Young halted his party, to rest for a few days, and in the
meantime to set their traps. The general character of the scenery around
them may be inferred from Mr. Bryant's description of a similar encampment
in his overland