We remained there the following day, as Padre Marini was anxious to
discover any carvings or hieroglyphics from which he might draw some
conclusions; but our endeavours were not successful, and we could not
tarry longer, as we were afraid that the horse-hunters would break up
their encampments before we arrived. We, therefore, resumed our
journey, and many were the disquisitions and conjectures which passed
between me and the holy father, as to the high degree of civilisation
which must have existed among the lost race who had been the architects
of such graceful buildings.

Four days more brought us to the southern shore of the St. Jago lake.
We arrived in good time, dismissed our Indians, and having purchased two
excellent mules, we proceeded on our journey, in company with the
horse-hunters, surrounded by hundreds of their captives, who were loudly
lamenting their destiny, and shewed their sense of the injustice of the
whole proceeding by kicking and striking with their fore-feet at
whatever might come within the reach of their hoofs. Notwithstanding
the very unruly conduct of the prisoners, we arrived at Monterey on the
sixth evening.

The reader will discover, as he proceeds, that my adventures are about
to commence from this journey to Monterey; I therefore wish to remind
him that I was at this time not eighteen years old. I had a remembrance
of civilisation previous to my arrival among the Indians, and as we
enjoyed every comfort and some luxuries at the settlement, I still had a
remembrance, although vague, of what had passed in Italy and elsewhere.
But I had become an Indian, and until I heard that I was to undertake
this journey, I had recollected the former scenes of my youth only to
despise them.

That this feeling had been much fostered by the idea that I should never
again rejoin them, is more than probable; for from the moment that I
heard that I was to proceed to Monterey, my heart beat tumultuously and
my pulse was doubled in its circulation. I hardly know what it was that
I anticipated, but certainly I had formed the idea of a terrestrial
paradise.

If not exactly a paradise, Monterey is certainly a sweet place; 'tis
even now a fairy spot in my recollection, although sobered down, and, I
trust, a little wiser than I was at that time. There certainly is an
air of happiness spread over this small town. Every one is at their
ease, every body sings and smiles, and every hour is dedicated to
a