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 duck-pond.
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 a full cargo,
spent a few weeks there, taking it in, smoking ship, supplying
wood and water, and making other preparations for the voyage home.
The Lagoda was now about this business. When we should be about it,
was more than I could tell; two years, at least, I thought to myself.
I also learned, to my surprise, that the desolate-looking place we
were in was the best place on the whole coast for hides. It was the
only port for a distance of eighty miles, and about thirty miles in
the interior was a fine plane country, filled with herds of cattle,
in the centre of which was the Pueblo de los Angelos - the largest
town in California - and several of the wealthiest missions; to all
of which San Pedro was the sea-port.
Having made our arrangements for a horse to take the agent to
the Pueblo the next day, we picked our way again over the green,
slippery rocks, and pulled aboard.
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