After A Slow Passage Of Five Days, We Arrived, On Wednesday,
The First Of April, At Our Old Anchoring Ground
At San Pedro.
The bay was as deserted, and looked as dreary, as before, and formed
no pleasing contrast with
The security and snugness of San Diego,
and the activity and interest which the loading and unloading of four
vessels gave to that scene. In a few days the hides began to come
slowly down, and we got into the old business of rolling goods up
the hill, pitching hides down, and pulling our long league off and
on. Nothing of note occurred while we were lying here, except
that an attempt was made to repair the small Mexican brig which
had been cast away in a south-easter, and which now lay up, high
and dry, over one reef of rocks and two sand-banks. Our carpenter
surveyed her, and pronounced her capable of refitting, and in a
few days the owners came down from the Pueblo, and, waiting for
the high spring tides, with the help of our cables, kedges, and crew,
got her off and afloat, after several trials. The three men at the
house on shore, who had formerly been a part of her crew, now
joined her, and seemed glad enough at the prospect of getting off
the coast.
On board our own vessel, things went on in the common monotonous
way. The excitement which immediately followed the flogging scene
had passed off, but the effect of it upon the crew, and especially
upon the two men themselves, remained.
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