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A CALIFORNIA PILGRIMAGE 
 
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A CALIFORNIA 
 PILGRIMAGE 
 
 BEING AN ACCOUNT OF THE OBSERVANCE OF THE 
 
 SIXTY-FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF BISHOP KIP'S FIRST MISSIONARY 
 
 JOURNEY THROUGH THE SAN JOAQUIN VALLEY TOGETHER WITH 
 
 BISHOP kip's own STORY OF THE EVENT COMMEMORATED 
 
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 (jAl..ii-OKi^ii 
 
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 PUBLISHED AT FRESNO, CALIFORNIA, FOR 
 
 PRIVATE SUBSCRIPTION ONLY 
 
 MDCCCCXXI 
 
COPYRIGHT igli by LOUIS C. SANFORD 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 A PILGRIMAGE TO FORT MILLER 5 
 
 A DIGEST OF THE SERMON PREACHED ON THE OCCASION . 13 
 
 LETTERS OF THE RT. REV. W. INGRAHAM KIP, D. D. 
 
 I. LOS ANGELES 20 
 
 II. FORT TEJON 30 
 
 III. THE PLAINS AND FORT MILLER 40 
 
 
 
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 A PILGRIMAGE TO FORT MILLER 
 
 IXTY-FIVE years ago the interior of California yi 
 was an almost unknown desert. Herds of California 
 antelope roamed over its untilled plains. Its Pilgrimage 
 mountain fastnesses had been penetrated by 
 only a few venturesome explorers.The foot- 
 hills, between the plains and the peaks, har- 
 bored a handful of white settlers who had 
 
 been drawn by the lure of gold, or the amazing fertility of the 
 river bottoms, but for the most part remained the hunting 
 ground of bands of redmen, aggregating five thousand souls, 
 perhaps, who gathered acorns and pine nuts and speared the 
 fish in the shallows of the streams. 
 
 Clashes between the savages and the pioneers occasioned 
 the planting of two army posts in this region: Fort Tejon in 
 the pass which afforded exit from the San Joaquin Valley 
 into Southern California and Fort Miller on the San Joaquin 
 River, guarding the approaches to the Southern Mines. Sub- 
 stantial adobe buildings were eredted by the government at 
 each place, and garrisoned with a company of artillery. When 
 the Indians, beaten in a decisive battle, sued for peace, the 
 
 5 
 
i3 *• 
 
 A treaty, to which the Chieftains of the several bands affixed 
 California their mark, was ratified on a plateau just above Fort Miller. 
 Pilgrimage Between Stockton at the mouth of the Valley, and Los 
 Angeles in the South, the only settlements were at these forts. 
 Tejon was a strictly military encampment, but near Fort 
 Miller, a village of about one hundred inhabitants established 
 itself, and taking the name of Millerton, became the county 
 seat of Fresno County. 
 
 In 1855 Major Townsend, of the Arsenal at Benicia, was 
 instrucSbed to inspe(5t these army posts, and Bishop Kip embraced 
 the opportunity to visit this raw country with him. The story 
 of the trip was told in three letters to the Spirit of Missions ^ 
 which are reproduced in the following pages. His journey 
 culminated at Fort Miller where he spent ten days, officiated 
 on Sunday, appointed a lay reader, and left in the conviction 
 that the services of the Church would be continued. Within 
 a few months of the Bishop's visit, however, the troops were 
 withdrawn from the fort and, except for a brief period during 
 the Civil War, it was never occupied again. The infant town 
 of Millerton maintained its miniature but active existence 
 for several years. It was a shanty town to the last, distinguished 
 from others only by a substantial court house, now roofless, 
 whose granite first story with its barred windows was a neces- 
 sary adjunct to the saloons to which the Bishop calls attention. 
 One learns with interest that the mason who built it was the 
 first to enjoy its grim hospitality. When the Southern Pacific 
 Railroad pushed its track through the Valley, the Millerton- 
 ians with one consent picked up their lares and penates and 
 migrated to the railroad, twenty miles away, there to plant 
 another infant town, now grown to astonishing proportions — 
 6 
 
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Fresno. In a short time a concrete dam will be thrown across A 
 
 the river at Millerton, and the remains of town and fort will California 
 
 be buried in the reservoir of a great irrigation projedt. Pilgrimage 
 
 It seemed to the Convention of San Joaquin that before 
 the landmarks should be obliterated some commemoration of 
 Bishop Kip's first missionary journey ought to be made on 
 the spot where he officiated. Accordingly, at the annual meet- 
 ing of Convocation in May, 1920, a committee was appointed, 
 consisting of the Very Rev. G. R. E. Macdonald, the Rev. 
 G. G. Hoisholt, Mr. L. A. Winchell, Mrs. L. L. Cory, Mr. 
 C . H . Miller and Mrs. H . C . Tupper, to arrange for a pilgrim- 
 age commemorating the sixty-fifth anniversary of the coming 
 of the Church to the San Joaquin Valley. The efficient work 
 of the committee was a labor of love. Most of the members 
 were the children of pioneers and took a deep personal interest 
 in the matter. When Fort Miller was abandoned, the land 
 passed into the hands of the Hart family of Fresno, and for 
 several years past has been leased as a cattle ranch. Because of 
 the vandalism of irresponsible parties, the lessee, Mr. C. P. 
 Roche, had been obliged to close his gates to all visitors. But 
 he very cordially entered into the spirit of this occasion and 
 not only threw open his grounds but his own house, which 
 was the identical building in which Bishop Kip officiated ; 
 and to his courtesy much of the success of the pilgrimage 
 was due. 
 
 On the morning of 0(5tober 20th, under a cloudless sky, 
 forty or more cars left St. James Pro-Cathedral, Fresno, with 
 guests and representatives of the clergy and laity from all 
 parts of the diocese. The procession followed back the trail 
 over which fifty years ago the pioneers travelled from the 
 
 9 ' 
 
ji abandoned town. An hour's drive brought the company to the 
 California western opening of tiie quadrangle of the fort where the cars 
 Pilgrimage were parked in a double row, much, perhaps, as the military 
 wagons were parked in earlier days. The clergy vested, and 
 led by a crucifer and followed by a flag bearer who preceded 
 the long line of lay people, more than the former population 
 of town and fort combined, walked in silence to the upper 
 end of the plaza, where, under an old fig tree, facing the adobe 
 in which the First Bishop of California held his service, a 
 chaplain's portable altar, used in the late war, had been set 
 up on a pine table. In the open air, surrounded by a reverent 
 group of clergy and laity, the Bishop of San Joaquin celebrated 
 the Eucharist, and the Second Bishop of California preached 
 from the text of Bishop Kip's first sermon on the coast. The 
 congregation, accompanied by no instrument, sang heartily 
 the familiar hymns: "O God our help in ages past", "Our 
 father's God to Thee", "Jesus shall reign where'er the sun", 
 and "For all the saints who from their labors rest." About 
 one hundred persons received the sacred elements and at the 
 close of the service the procession returned to the cars in the 
 same order as at the beginning. 
 
 A little later, the plaza was covered by groups of people 
 seated on the ground, who shared with each other the lunch- 
 eons they had brought with them, while an energetic com- 
 mittee of ladies provided coffee for all who came. 
 
 The day was concluded with a tour of the fort. Mr. L. A. 
 Winchell, Vice-President of the Fresno Historical Society, 
 whose boyhood had been passed at the fort, led the way from 
 point to point, and interested the visitors with reminiscenses 
 of early days, 
 
 lO 
 
jammtm 
 PROCESSION OF PILGRIMS 
 
 CELEBRATION OF THE EUCHARIST 
 
.-•^,; :* : yt .• ** •• • • • 
 

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 ^^^^g^^^H 
 
 
 M^ijl^^s^m^^fi^l^^ 
 
 "THAT ROCK WAS CHRIST"— i COR. 10-4 
 
 A Digest of the Sermon preached on the occasion of the Pilgrimage 
 to Fort Miller by Rt. Reverend William Ford Nichols, D.D. 
 Bishop of California. 
 
 HIS is the text which Bishop Kip seems to A 
 have chosen to point the purpose of his work California 
 in California. It was the text of his first Pilgrimage 
 sermon, preached a few hours after landing 
 from the steamer, in Trinity Church, San 
 Francisco, January 29, 1854. The sermon 
 itself is probably not preserved. But in his 
 "Early Days of My Episcopate" the Bishop quotes from it 
 that "Commencing now a new era ... it is fitting that these 
 words should be at once my present theme and the type of 
 what should be my message in days that are to come". We may 
 then find in it his message from his pioneering episcopate. 
 
 As we gather here on this pilgrimage, so happily conceived 
 by your Bishop and Convocation, to celebrate the sixty -fifth 
 anniversary of the first trip of the first Bishop of California 
 through the San Joaquin Valley, an almost overwhelming 
 rush of associations with such an event bids for the telling. But 
 
 13 
 
A the time, especially as you are a standing rather than a seated 
 California auditory, dictates rigid compression. Otherwise, we might 
 Pilgrimage dwell upon the whole of his itinerary through the valley 
 after spending Sunday, Odober 7, 1855, in Los Angeles, as 
 he stopped over Sunday, the 14th, at Fort Tejon, near Teha- 
 chapi, and came here to Fort Miller on Sunday the 21st. His 
 chapter about it in his "Early Days" has all the absorption 
 of the adventure for land experience of California that Dana's 
 **Two Years Before the Mast" has for the sea. Indeed a 
 good heading for it might be "A Month Behind Army Mules" . 
 There is much of interest connected with the six members 
 of the party, including a son of John C. Calhoun and Major 
 E. A. Townsend, whose protection on his tour of inspection 
 of the Forts was necessary for the Bishop in those days of 
 bandits and outlaws, and whose hospitality the Bishop accepted 
 as making the visitation possible. 
 
 The customary contrasts between then and now both in 
 conditions of the country and the Church, also inevitably 
 occur to us, such as the range of the lone sheep herder over 
 barren plains then with the happy teeming populations and 
 fields of "Wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranate, 
 oil, olive and honey," now; such as the one Bishop, ten 
 clergy, and less than five hundred communicants then, with 
 six Bishops, two hundred and fifty clergy, and twenty-six 
 thousand communicants in the State now. But we cannot do 
 more than glance along the inviting vistas of such topics, and 
 will only try to note and fix in our minds for wholesome 
 appropriation, as far as we can, some of the genius of Bishop 
 Kip's own theory of service as outlined in the text. 
 
 And for that working theory of his, it will suffice if without 
 
 14 
 
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 ft * • «. ^ A • 
 
entering into any general exposition of the text, we simply ^ 
 interpret its symbolism as meaning to him Christ, the succor ^^^tjornta 
 in the call to service. The rock of difficulty was made to the ^iig^^f^^g^ 
 Israelites of old the well spring of opportunity. The rock that 
 depicted the very desolation of the desert of Zin was made to 
 gush out with the waters for the parched lips of the people 
 that were murmuring. There were signally taught in this two 
 great principles of spiritual force. 
 
 First, spiritual force moves in the diredtion of the greatest 
 resistance. This is a feature distind: from that char ad: eristic 
 of natural force which exhibits it as moving in the dired:ion 
 of least resistance. The windings of a river bed or of a canon 
 have been determined by some antecedent rivulet that turned 
 aside from the obstacle of a twig or a pebble in its first tiny 
 course. The lace work around the circumference of a hot 
 spring is an illustration of a depositing side by side of particles 
 of matter that the gently welling water circles around the 
 rim as it moves where there is the least resistance of previous 
 deposit. And the rock of resistance swerves the tide through 
 a Golden Gate. The contrast of this with spiritual power is a 
 determining of real characfler. The rock of challenge in the 
 difficulties and obstacles of life is one for the smiting in a spirit 
 of moving in that very direction of greatest resistance. Any 
 occupation, and any demonstration of free will power shows 
 that. The one who always tries to do the easiest thing is bound 
 to fail. ** The slothful man saith *Thereisa lionin the way'." 
 And the one worth his salt has many a time in business and 
 inthe home, to attack the problem and the hard proposi- 
 tion with all his might, just because it is hard. That spirit 
 explains one side of Bishop Kip's pioneering. The old Latin 
 
 17 
 
^ maxim is to the effect that "through difficulties we reach the 
 
 California stars". 
 
 Pihrima^e The other great principle of spiritual power that is a veri- 
 table twin principle with this and goes with it in actual 
 experience is this: When spiritual power moves in the direc- 
 tion of the greatest resistance, it also moves in the dire<5tion 
 of its greatest assistance. The smiting of the rock by Moses 
 started the water supply for thirsty Israel. The rock stroke of 
 faith brought the very relief stream for the famished. Face 
 hardship and free help. Strike the Sierras and gurgling water- 
 ways transform the San Joaquin Valley from a desert to an 
 Eden. "Help yourself, and God will help you." That con- 
 sciousness of the "Lo I am with you" of his Master, in a 
 Presence of greatest help just in the time of greatest test of 
 dauntlessness, explains another side of Bishop Kip's pioneer- 
 ing. Much we might say of the scholar and apologist for the 
 Church in his many and much read writings, much of his 
 fine gentleness with his noble bearing, much of notable events 
 in which he shared in his episcopate of two score years. But 
 his example for us as we gather under this glad sunshine today 
 for our Eucharist and recall his visit here in the days of small 
 things and big obstacles, seems winningly to contribute 
 to our own spheres a most grateful and valuable refledtion. 
 Individually and collectively, laymen and clergymen, men 
 and women in church and home and state, in which there 
 are many tendencies to down-grade, easy going ways, it does 
 give us a good deal to think of on the lines of those twin 
 principles of spiritual power. First, that it moves in the 
 direction of greatest resistance, and second, that it at the same 
 time moves in the dirediion of greatest assistance. Can we not 
 
 i8 
 
go away from this memorable scene to attack with fresh inspir- ^ 
 
 ation just the cares and burdens that each heart knows as its ^^^{fornta 
 
 own? Could there be a happier answer to that query which "ilgrtmage 
 
 Bishop Kip put to us as "Children of the next generation?" 
 
 He visualized the California Churchmen that were to come 
 
 and asks, "When they are worshipping in splendid buildings 
 
 and members of powerful parishes, how will they regard our 
 
 early struggles?" 
 
 In speaking heartiest congratulations for myself and I am 
 sure for all our Church people in California, who have inher- 
 ited the fruit of the labors of the first Bishop of California, as 
 I do my dear Bishop, to you and your clergy and laity, on this 
 days' celebration, may we not call it our memorable Fort 
 Miller pilgrimage? And as was the wont of pilgrims of old to 
 choose some symbol as a badge, like the scallop shell or the 
 Jerusalem cross, may we not wear on our hearts the image of 
 a Rock, chiselled with the name Christ; of a smiting the rock; 
 of a gushing stream; all to betoken our fresh devotion in using 
 for character and service those precious principles of the 
 pioneer text, 
 
 **That Rock was Christ.'' 
 
 19 
 
I. LOS ANGELES 
 
 A 
 
 California 
 
 Pilgrimage 
 
 The following letters of Bishop Kip, containing the story of his 
 journey through the San Joaquin Valley in OBober, l8^^, 
 appeared serially in **The Spirit of Missions" in February, 
 March and April, l8^6. They have never been published in 
 any other form and are reprinted here by courtesy of *^The 
 Spirit of Missions.'* 
 
 OR MORE than a year I had been attempting 
 to visit the southern part of the State, but 
 was never able to do so. The unsettled state 
 of the country, infested by the worst class 
 of whites and Mexicans, often robbing in 
 large parties, rendered it unsafe to travel ex- 
 cept with a party thoroughly armed. Such 
 
 a party I could not find until the present time, when Major 
 Townsend, U. S. A., being ordered to inspect Forts Tejon 
 and Miller, had to pass through the country, and I availed 
 myself of the opportunity. Some other friends having offered 
 to join us, for the purpose of seeing the country, we had a 
 sufficient number for security. Besides Major T., my youngest 
 son and myself, the party consisted of Hon. Edward Stanley 
 20 
 
(late of N. C.,), Mr. Jas. E. Calhoun (late of S. C.,), and Mr. ^ 
 
 J. T. Smith of San Francisco. California 
 
 My objects were, to spend a Sunday at Los Angeles, where PUg-rimaze 
 the services of the Church had never been performed; another 
 Sunday at Fort Tejon, where we have a lay-reader; another 
 at Fort Miller, where there has never been a service; and, 
 generally, to see what is the character of the southern half 
 of the State with reference to future prosped:s of the Church. 
 
 I propose, therefore, in these three successive articles, to 
 give an account of our expedition through this section of the 
 country. The first will be our visit to Los Angeles; the second, 
 our journey to Fort Tejon, and Sunday at that place; and the 
 third, our travel over the plains to Fort Miller, and thence 
 home to San Francisco. In doing this, I shall not confine 
 myself to Church matters, but give such other statements with 
 regard to the inhabitants and the physical features of the 
 country, as will be likely to convey information desired by 
 the many readers of this periodical. 
 
 OBoberi, l8^^. 
 
 At 4 p.m., we were on board the steamer Republic for San 
 Diego. The last time the captain and I voyaged together, we 
 were wrecked in the Golden Gate, and I found, therefore, 
 that he looked rather suspiciously at me. The fog was rolling 
 in when we sailed, and no sooner had we passed the Heads, 
 and struck the swell of the ocean, than we plunged into a 
 dense bank, in which it was impossible to see for twenty feet. 
 The captain says, he never went out in so thick a fog. At 
 intervals, all night, the bell was kept ringing, and about three 
 in the morning we were, as the captain supposed, off Mon- 
 terey. We therefore came to, and as the sea was heavy, we 
 
 21 
 
A were left rolling in its trough for the night. At day-break the 
 California fog still continued, and we kept slowly drawing in to land 
 Pilgrimage until about ten o'clock, when it lifted and we saw the coast, 
 so that we could enter the harbor. 
 
 We anchored as usual in the bay, when the boats came off 
 and took us to shore. Monterey is unchanged since I had 
 service here last year, in August. Everything is as quiet and 
 beautiful as ever — a perfect Spanish town — and no apparent 
 accession to the American population. I spent part of the time 
 we were here in visiting the few churchmen. The last half 
 hour on shore was passed with the Hon. Mr. Wall, collector 
 of the port. Three weeks afterwards he was found a few miles 
 from Monterey dead on the road, pierced with seven balls, 
 and the gentleman with him also dead, a short distance off. 
 They had been attacked by a party of five mounted Mexicans, 
 who afterwards effected their escape. Subsequently, in attempt- 
 ing to capture them, Mr. Layton, another of our few church- 
 men here, was killed, with two others. I mention this to show 
 the necessity there was for my being with an armed party in 
 travelling in this southern country. At 3 p. m., we sailed, but 
 the sea proved to be rough, and most of us were soon invisible. 
 The rest of the day, and through the night, we were pitching 
 about in that dreamy, uncomfortable state of being, afraid to 
 move for fear of consequences. 
 
 Wednesday, OB, J. 
 The sea smoother, but the fog still dense. In the morning 
 the captain found he had run too close in shore, and was near 
 the spot where, last year, the unfortunate Yankee Blade was 
 lost with so great destruction of life. During the morning the 
 fog cleared off, and we got on our true course. At i p. m. we 
 22 
 
anchored opposite to Santa Barbara. We went ashore in the A 
 steamer's boat, at most times a difficult business on account of California 
 the heavy surf. As there is no wharf, the boat has to be run up Pilgrimage 
 on shore, while the passengers watch their chance and jump 
 before the wave returns. 
 
 Santa Barbara has entirely its old California population. 
 There seem to be hardly any Americans settled there. Every- 
 thing, therefore, is primitive and quiet. Their houses are all 
 open as if they lived out of doors, and their agricultural imple- 
 ments, ploughs and wagons, scattered about, are of the same 
 clumsy pattern their fathers used in Mexico a century ago. 
 The town is about half a mile from the bay, and may contain 
 about twelve hundred inhabitants. 
 
 A mile and a halfback, on the rising ground, at the base of 
 the hills, stands the old Mission of Santa Barbara. We walked 
 out to it and found the same evidences of decay and delapida- 
 tion which characterize all the California Missions. There is, 
 as usual, an extensive range of buildings, once occupied by the 
 priest, and terminated at one end by the large Church. Around 
 were the remains of their vineyards and gardens with a few 
 slight houses, about which some Indians were lounging in the 
 sun, the relics of their once numerous bands of converts. 
 
 As we found there was a solitary priest still residing here 
 and keeping up the services of the Church, we knocked at his 
 door and brought him out — an old man in the coarse gray 
 Franciscan dress. Calling an Indian boy, he sent him to unlock 
 the church for us. It was like all the other Mission churches, 
 with little to recommend it but its size, and having, at the 
 entrance, the usual horrible pictures of Purgatory and Paradise. 
 In the front of the building was a circular reservoir and a stone 
 
 23 
 
^ fountain, now dry, with considerable carving about it. We 
 Laltjornia found there was a succession of these reservoirs on the moun- 
 rtlgrimage ^^^^ gj^j^^ ^2.q\\ one of a little higher plane than the others, and 
 connected by canals. In this way water was brought fourteen 
 miles from its source in the mountains. Now, however, most 
 of them are dry, their stone ornaments are broken in pieces, 
 and the surrounding country, which the old Padres thus irri- 
 gated and made like a garden, is fast relapsing into former 
 wildness. It is a lovely spot, however, commanding a wide 
 view of the country and bay, and was selected with the usual 
 good taste of the Friars. 
 
 We walked back again to the shore, and at 7 p. m., were 
 again under way. 
 
 Thursday^ OB. ^. 
 
 About 7 a.m. we anchored opposite San Pedro (420 miles 
 Irom San Francisco) and the end of our voyage. At the edge 
 of the water is a high bank, and from this the plain extends 
 far as the eye can reach. There are three adobe houses on the 
 bank, and everything looks just as it did when Dana described 
 it in his "Two Years Before The Mast," more than 20 years 
 ago. We landed in the steamer's boats, and after a breakfast at 
 one of the houses, a wagon was produced, to which four half- 
 broken California horses were harnessed. The men hung on 
 to their heads till the signal for starting was given, when 
 they released them, and away they dashed at full gallop, 
 our driver occasionally looking in to ask us **on which side 
 we wished to fall when we upset." This seemed to be his 
 standing joke, and one which I thought it not improbable 
 might be realized. 
 
 The plains were covered with thousands of cattle and horses, 
 24 
 
quite reminding us of old California times. In the 25 miles of A 
 our journey, there were but two or three shanties, erected by California 
 squatters, who were raising cattle, and not a fence or enclosure. Pilgrimage 
 except the corrals, about them. We reached Los Angeles in 
 less than two hours and a half, having changed horses once on 
 the way. As we approached the town there was a marked 
 change from the treeless sterility of the plains. We found our- 
 selves winding through the midst of vineyards and gardens, 
 and on all sides saw the workmen engaged in the manufacSture 
 of wine. 
 
 Friday, OB. 5. 
 Los Angeles has all the characft eristics of an old Spanish 
 town. It contains about 5,000 inhabitants, 2,000 of whom 
 may be Americans or English. The houses are almost invari- 
 ably one story high — a style of building which an occasional 
 earthquake has rendered advisable. All around it is a perfect 
 garden, luxuriant with every kind of fruit. We visited one vine- 
 yard, which, besides a profusion of other fruits, contained 
 50,000 vines of a large blue grape. Part of these grapes are 
 each week sent to San Francisco by the return steamer from 
 San Diego, and part are manufactured into wine. 
 
 Saturday, OB. 6. 
 We availed ourselves of this day to see something of the 
 surrounding country. We drove out about a dozen miles to the 
 San Gabriel Mission. It stands in a most lovely country, but 
 like all the others I have visited, is now in a state of decay. 
 The single priest remaining here — a Frenchman, speaking no 
 English — took us into the Sacristy and showed us the rich 
 dresses, heavy with gold embroidery — the remnant of their 
 
 25 
 
A former glory, and probably brought originally from Spain. We 
 California entered the large Church once filled with their Indian con- 
 Pilgrimage verts, but now of a size entirely useless. Half a dozen children 
 were on their knees before the chancel, who went on with 
 their devotions without seeming to notice our party. The 
 eldest was reading aloud from some devotional book, while 
 the others at intervals responded. The thick stone walls of the 
 Church were hung with the usual wretched pictures. Around 
 the Mission is a country which, by the richness of its soil, 
 could produce anything. It is well irrigated by little streams 
 from the mountains, led through the fields by the labour of 
 the old Padres. The only settlers, however, are the lowest class 
 of Spanish Californians or Indians, whose little huts are scat- 
 tered about, among which the children were running around 
 in a perfect state of nudity. In the hands of our Eastern farm- 
 ers, this country, with its perpetual summer, would become a 
 per fed: Eden. 
 
 About a mile from the Mission is a rich tract of wooded 
 country, called the Monte, and celebrated for the luxuriance 
 of its crops. Corn grows here to a height which would seem 
 fabulous at the east. It is peopled by a wild class of settlers 
 from our Western States, who have no religious instrudion 
 but what is derived from the excitement of an occasional 
 Methodist camp-meeting. Besides this **no man careth for 
 their souls." 
 
 On our way home we stopped at the vineyard of a gentle- 
 man, who is one of those most interested, in Los Angeles, in 
 the establishment of the Church, and I describe it to show 
 what Providence has done for this country. It is about five 
 miles from town, the house standing on a rising ground, from 
 26 
 
the front of which there is a view of many miles of rich land- A 
 
 scape, much of it dotted with oak trees. His men were all busy California 
 
 in the manufad:ure of wine, and while some of them were Pilgrimage 
 
 bringing in the rich grapes in baskets, others, standing in the 
 
 vats with their naked feet, were literally "treading the wine 
 
 press." The proprietor receives $8,000 a year from the sale of 
 
 his wine alone. 
 
 In his vineyard, besides the grapes, we found a colledtion of 
 fruit which I have never seen equalled in any part of the world. 
 There were melons of all kinds, figs, just bursting, delicious 
 peaches, pomegranates, tuners (the cactus fruit), pears, Madeira 
 nuts, etc., all were about us. Strawberries are raised here 
 through the whole year. 
 
 Sunday y OB. y. 
 
 Until within the last six months, there had been no religious 
 service of any kind in Los Angeles, except those of the old 
 Romish Church. As the preaching there was in Spanish, the 
 Americans never went to it, and were without anything to 
 mark the coming of Sunday. At that time the Presbyterians 
 sent a minister here who officiated in one of the public court- 
 rooms, while the Methodists erected a small building, and 
 commenced their services. The latter place had been offered 
 to us for our service this day. 
 
 We had service morning and evening — the first time our 
 solemn Liturgy was ever heard in this section of the country. 
 At the morning service there were about 8 o present, and a much 
 larger number in the evening. The next day just before leaving 
 the place, I baptized the four children of a gentleman, whose 
 family, at the east, had been attached to our Church. I found 
 several such families in this place, whom I sought out and 
 
 27 
 
A visited. They are literally ** Christ's sheep dispersed abroad in 
 California this naughty world." Before leaving, I had an opportunity of 
 Pilgrimage conferring w^ith a number of the inhabitants. They told me, 
 the persons present had been much impressed with the dignity 
 and solemnity of our service — that neither Presbyterianism 
 or Methodism could produce any influence on this popu- 
 lation — but they had no doubt the Church could be estab- 
 lished under very favorable circumstances. They wanted 
 something that did not preach Nebraska or Kansas, slavery 
 or anti-slavery, and was not identified with any of the isms 
 of the day. 
 
 I have no doubt but that they are right, and that the system 
 of the Church is the only thing which can produce permanent 
 impressions. They professed to be ready to give a support to 
 a clergyman, as soon as the right kind of a man could be sent. 
 It needs a man, however, of zeal and energy, considerable 
 pulpit talents and knowledge of the world. Our Church people 
 at the east, residing all their lives in a settled state of society, 
 have no idea of the difficulty of establishing a congregation 
 from the conflicting elements of a population who have not 
 heard the Gospel preached for years, who are living under 
 no religious restraints, and among whom the religious 
 element is yet to be created. It is a work of faith, of time, 
 and patience. 
 
 Yet how many there are of our energetic young men to 
 whom this would present a noble field! Where they would 
 be the first heralds of the Church, and, instead of wearing out 
 their lives in a severe and changing climate, they might make 
 their home in one of the healthiest places in the world, where 
 they would enjoy the blessings of a perpetual summer. It is 
 28 
 
for this reason, perhaps, that the early Spaniards named it the A 
 
 city of Los Angeles (the city of the Angels); and I certainly California 
 
 have never seen a country which more fully realizes Bishop Pilgrimage 
 Heber's description — 
 
 . . . ^^Every prospeB pleases. 
 And only man is vile'' 
 
 29 
 
II. FORT TEJON 
 
 A 
 
 California 
 
 Pilgrimage 
 
 ^Monday, OB, 8. 
 IE LEFT Los Angeles for Fort Tejon (about 
 loo miles distant), at 1 1 o'clock. Our ve- 
 hicle was a large heavy wagon, for no other 
 is adapted to the mountain passes through 
 which our road leads. It was drawn by four 
 mules, and we had a driver well acquainted 
 with the country. 
 
 Our driver was also well armed, and the gentlemen with 
 me had their rifles and revolvers. It may seem strange to an 
 eastern reader to hear of a visitation being made with such 
 accompaniments, but here there is no help for it. The country 
 through which we are to pass — scarcely settled — is infested 
 with California and Mexican outlaws, whose trade is robbery, 
 and who will often down a traveler for the sake of the horse 
 on which he is mounted. Our friends in Los Angeles warned 
 us, when we got out to walk, as we should often be obliged 
 to do, not to straggle off, but to keep together. Sometimes 
 these banditti attack in groups, as in the murder of Mr. Wall 
 which I mentioned in my last number. At other times a single 
 Mexican dashes on horseback by the unsuspecting traveler. 
 
 30 
 
As he passes within 20 feet, suddenly the lariat, coiled up at A 
 
 his saddle bow, is whirled round his head, and ere the traveler California 
 
 can put himself on his defense, its circle descends with unerring Pilgrimage 
 
 precision, and he is hurled, lifeless, from his horse. Then, too, 
 
 in camping out at night, our rest may be invaded by a grizzly 
 
 bear, as they abound on these mountains. They often exceed 
 
 1,600 pounds in weight, and have such tenacity of life that 
 
 an encounter with them is more dangerous than with an 
 
 African lion. 
 
 We had hardly got out on the plains, a couple of miles from 
 Los Angeles, when, in descending a gulch, part of the harness 
 broke, the mules whirled around, and we were only saved 
 from an overturn by the snapping off of the pole. Nothing 
 could be done but for our driver to take a couple of mules, 
 return to town, and have a new one made. So there we were 
 left for some hours with the wagon and other mules. I read 
 or looked out over the desolate plains, while my companions 
 practiced rifle shooting. About three in the afternoon our 
 driver returned, and we made a new set-off. We shortly passed 
 through a chain of hills, and then again over the plains for 
 seventeen miles. Not a living objed: was seen for hours, till 
 towards evening, the coyote wolves came out, and we saw 
 them loping along with their long gallop, often numbers in 
 a troop. Night closed, and we drove on some time in darkness, 
 till the appearance of a single light, a long distance ahead, 
 showed that we were approaching some habitation. After a 
 time we reached some enclosures — the first we had seen since 
 leaving Los Angeles — and found ourselves at the old Mission 
 of San Fernando. The buildings are the most massive I have 
 seen. Along the whole front runs a corridor, which must be 
 
 31 
 
A three hundred feet in length, supported by heavy square stone 
 California pillars. Some of the apartments are forty feet long, with thick 
 Pilgrimage stone walls and stone floors, reminding me of old castellated 
 mansions iii the south of Europe. We had letters to Don 
 Andreas Pico, the present owner of the mission, and as he was 
 absent, presented them to his Major-Domo. Two or three 
 other travellers arrived late at night from different diredtions. 
 One of them — a specimen of the varied characters to be met 
 with here — was a Scotchman, a graduate of the University 
 of Edinburgh, who had been mining for some years in South 
 America, and was now seeking his fortune in this new land. 
 He arrived almost exhausted, having had no food or water for 
 twenty-four hours. His horse had given out in the mountains, 
 and pursuing his way on foot, he suddenly saw a huge grizzly 
 in the path before him. Afraid to fire at him, he unslung his 
 tin prosped:ing pan, and drawing his ramrod, commenced a 
 clatter on the pan, which soon drove the grizzly off. 
 
 We had a regular Spanish supper, olla podrida (beef with 
 red peppers and onions), frijolas and tortelas, with native wine. 
 At night we were all put in a room 40 feet long, with one bed 
 in the corner. This, two of the party occupied, and the rest 
 wrapped themselves in their blankets on the stone floor. 
 
 Tuesday, OB, g. 
 We were up at dawn, expecting to be off early, but were 
 detained an hour for breakfast. Our morning ablutions were 
 performed at a little stream in front of the door, which the 
 old padres had led there to irrigate the gardens. We availed 
 ourselves of this delay to insped: the buildings. The church is 
 like all other Mission churches, with one peculiarity. One 
 
 32 
 
wall forms one side of a quadrangle, the other three sides of A 
 which are buildings about ten feet high. This space was for- California 
 merly used for bull-fights, and the spectators were accommo- Pilgrimage 
 dated on the roofs of these buildings. There are two very 
 extensive vineyards, abounding also with other kinds of fruit. 
 The grapes here are said to be of a finer flavour than those of 
 Los Angeles. The workmen at the mills were making wine 
 at the time. 
 
 We had a Spanish breakfast exadly similar to our supper 
 the night before. Upon offering to pay the Major Domo, he 
 refused to receive anything. We then urged him to take a 
 present for himself, but he said, "No, when strangers come 
 along, if they make me a present, I receive it, but not from 
 the friends of Don Andreas." And all this was announced with 
 the highest Castilian manner. 
 
 It was seven o'clock before we left the Mission, and after 
 proceeding a few miles, reached the San Fernando Pass, where 
 the road had been cut through a deep defile in the mountains. 
 Here we had to get out and walk, and the scenery was the 
 wildest I have seen since I crossed the Alps. How our heavy 
 wagon was to get over was a marvel to us. At one place was a 
 ledge of rocks almost perpendicular, about four feet high, 
 down which it plunged, as if it would turn over and crush the 
 mules, while we involuntarily held our breath as we looked 
 on. In the pass, a couple of Indians on horseback met us as we 
 were walking, and were loud in their demands for money, till 
 some one of the gentlemen allowed their arms to be seen, 
 when their tone was moderated considerably. Had my com- 
 panions been unarmed, it was evident they would have had 
 no scruples about enforcing their wishes. 
 
 33 
 
A After passing the hills our course for twenty-two miles was 
 California over a level plain, at the termination of which we entered. 
 Pilgrimage what was stated to be the most dangerous part of our journey 
 a canon, or winding defile through the mountains, about 
 seventeen miles long. It is a narrow pass, hemmed in on both 
 sides by the high mountains, often allowing scarcely room for 
 the wagon to pass. A small stream flows through it, which is 
 crossed by the road more than eighty times during the seven- 
 teen miles. In addition to its being the resort of grizzlies, its 
 fastnesses are the hiding-places of the American or Mexican 
 desperadoes who are such a scourge to this part of the country. 
 
 We stopped just at its entrance, near the only house there 
 is for twenty miles in any diredtion, to take lunch and rest 
 our mules. A short time before, this house had become so 
 notorious a resort for robbers, that the people from Los Angeles 
 captured its inmates — two Americans and four Mexicans — 
 and hung them by lynch law. As the spring at which we stopped 
 was only a hundred yards distant, we noticed that the house 
 had a new set of occupants, but did not learn whether its 
 character had improved. 
 
 It was about noon that we entered the defile, the branches 
 of trees often on both sides sweeping against our wagon, and 
 long before sunset involving us in twilight. Many parts of it 
 reminded me of our ride through the mountains on the Isth- 
 mus, from Crucis to Panama. Through the whole day we saw 
 no human being, and did not wish to, as they probably would 
 not be of the class we would like to meet. So on our mules 
 dragged the heavy wagon, over the rocks and through the 
 streams, while most of the way we walked. 
 
 We had intended to extricate ourselves from the canon 
 
 34 
 
before daylight ended, so as to encamp out on the open plain A 
 beyond. But when night came, we were still five miles from California 
 the end, our mules tired out and it rapidly becoming too dark Pilgrimage 
 to thread our way through the ravines. We, therefore, turned 
 aside to a level spot which we reached, with the little stream 
 on one side and high rocks behind us. A fallen tree furnished 
 an abundance of wood for our fire, which was supplied with 
 large logs to last through the night. Here our basket of pro- 
 visions was opened, tea boiled, and reclining about the fire 
 we had our evening meal. Then came the preparations for 
 the night. Two of the party slept in the wagon, while the 
 rest lay around the fire wrapped in their blankets. Rifles were 
 fresh capped, revolvers examined, and each slept with his 
 arms within reach. No regular watch was kept, as some one 
 was up every hour to replenish the fire, and the mules pick- 
 eted around would prove the best sentinels to give notice of 
 the approach of men or wild beasts. 
 
 Wednesday y OB. 10. 
 
 We were up before daybreak, and on our way as soon as it 
 was light enough to see the path. We were obliged to walk 
 the greater part of the five miles through the ravine. At last 
 we emerged into an open valley, covered here and there with 
 oaks. In this we found a company of Californians camping 
 with several hundred cattle, which were scattered over several 
 miles and which they were driving to the upper country to sell. 
 
 Where the valley expands into the wide plains, Elizabeth 
 Lake was pointed out to us at a distance. It is about half a 
 mile long, and lay glittering in the sunlight, exactly like 
 snow of the most dazzling whiteness. On coming near we 
 found it was without a drop of water, but filled with a deposit 
 
 35 
 
A of saleratus. Not far off was the canvas hut of a settler, the 
 California only house we were to pass in our day's journey, near which 
 Pilgrimage lay the remains of three bears he had lassoed and killed. 
 
 The plains here are about fifteen miles in width. As the 
 day advanced it became intensely hot ; yet we were obliged to 
 push on until we could reach some water to prepare our break- 
 fast and refresh our mules. About half past lo o'clock, after 
 traveling five hours, we reached a little spring, at which we 
 were obliged to stop, as there is no water for the next fourteen 
 miles. By damming it up we obtained enough for our wants. 
 There was, however, no shade and no tree within miles of us. 
 We all scattered, therefore, about the plain to pick up sticks, 
 and the wagon was arranged so as to get as much shade as pos- 
 sible on one side of it. Into this we crowded, and our fire was 
 built to prepare for breakfast. Some of our party were almost 
 exhausted, but we found that hot tea, equally with sleep, 
 merited the praise of being 
 
 ** tired nature' s sweet restorer.'* 
 
 It was a long hot drive all day over the plains. There was no 
 timber, except in one place, for a couple of miles; the plain 
 was covered with a kind of palm. We saw numerous bands of 
 antelopes, but, frightened by our wagon, they kept at a dis- 
 tance. There was a dreary uniformity in our prospedt — the same 
 flat, scorched prairie. In one place we descended for a dozen 
 feet, and passed for half a mile over the dry sandy bed of what 
 was once a wide river. We saw no one, except a train of four or 
 five wagons containing a party of Mormons going from Salt 
 Lake to their settlement of San Bernardino, in the southern 
 part of the state. 
 
 36 
 
In the middle of the afternoon we reached the only water to A 
 be found for many miles. It is a small spring of which an Irish- California 
 man has taken possession, as it is the place where travelers are Pilgrimage 
 obliged to stop. He has a canvas house of one room, and sup- 
 ports himself by his gun and by furnishing provisions to parties 
 passing over the plains. A pile of antelope skins lying near the 
 house gave an intimation of what our fare was to be, and we 
 soon had a dinner of the meat cooked for us out in the open 
 air. We camped out near his house. 
 
 In the evening a man arrived on horseback with another led 
 horse. He proved to be a Mormon belonging to a party camped 
 twelve miles distant in the hills, by whom he had been sent 
 down for provisions. He was a perfed: specimen of the wild, 
 reckless, swearing class of men who infest this country, per- 
 fectly careless of his own life and that of every one else. Late 
 at night, to our relief, he took his departure, and we heard him 
 shouting and singing as he went up through the hills, "making 
 night hideous" with his ribaldry. 
 
 Thursday y OB. ii. 
 
 The stars were shining when we arose, and as there is no 
 dressing to be done, it does not take us long to prepare for our 
 journey. Before we set out, "Irish John" cooked a breakfast 
 for us out of doors. In a few miles the plains ended, and we 
 reached the hills, and then wound through valleys dotted with 
 old oak trees, and occasionally a little lake. We saw, as the day 
 before, frequent bands of antelopes. About noon we reached 
 Tejon Pass, a valley hemmed in by mountains, and having at 
 its entrance a large dry lake of saleratus glittering in the sun. 
 The wind wafted up the loose powder from the surface, and it 
 hung over it like a white cloud. The valley here is several miles 
 
 37 
 
A wide, and as we drove up we saw on the soft earth, through the 
 
 California whole length of our way, the tracks of large grizzlies who had 
 
 Pilgrimage preceded us. As we approached the military post our driver 
 
 gave an increased crack to his whip and urged the tired mules 
 
 to a spasmodic effort as we dashed up to Captain G.'s quarters, 
 
 where he was ready to receive us. 
 
 The fort at theTejon is on a little plain, entirely surrounded 
 by high mountains, which give it a confined appearance. It is, 
 however, a beautiful place, surrounded by oak trees. Under 
 one of these, which stands on the parade ground, in 1837, 
 Peter LaBec, an old hunter, was killed by a bear, and his com- 
 panions buried him at its foot. They then stripped the bark for 
 some three feet from the trunk of the tree and carved on it an 
 inscription, surmounted by a cross, which remains to this day, 
 though the bark is beginning to grow over it on all sides. 
 
 The barracks — handsome adobe buildings — are being eredted 
 around the sides of the parade ground. None of them are yet 
 finished, and the soldiers were living in tents. The officers, too, 
 were living in canvas houses, except one who had a small adobe 
 building which is soon to be demolished. There are ordi- 
 narily about six officers and one hundred and twenty dragoons 
 stationed here, besides the numerous civilians who are store- 
 keepers and employees of the post. About a dozen of the 
 dragoons are kept seventeen miles off, on the Reservation, to 
 watch the Indians. 
 
 Sunday, OB, i^. 
 
 There is no service of the Church within two hundred and 
 fifty miles of this place, nor any religious service of any kind 
 nearer than Los Angeles. It happens, however, that all the 
 officers at this post are Churchmen — several are communi- 
 
 38 
 
cants — and two of them have their families here. One of them ^^ 
 was, therefore, some months ago, licensed to adt as lay-reader, California 
 and our service has been regularly performed. My objed: in Pilgrimage 
 spending this Sunday here was, by myself holding service, to 
 give in the minds of the men a sandtion to that of the lay- 
 reader — to administer the Holy Communion, which some of 
 them have had no opportunity of receiving since they left the 
 Eastern States — and also to baptize several children, whose 
 families may remain for several years at this secluded post, with- 
 out the opportunity of seeing a clergyman. 
 
 We had service in a large room of the unfinished barracks. 
 All the officers and quite a number of the men attended. At the 
 Communion there were seven recipients, besides the members 
 of our own party. At noon I baptized at one of the officer's 
 quarters, his child, which could not be brought out to service; 
 and after the second lesson, in the afternoon baptized the child 
 of another officer. In the evening I visited the family of a 
 soldier wfco had died that day. He was buried early the next 
 morning, his comrades firing their volleys over his remains, 
 after I had read the burial service at the grave. 
 
 Thus ended my Sunday at this dragoon station. In addition 
 to the pleasantness of our visit from the warm hospitality we 
 received from the officers, I felt myself compensated for the 
 toil and labor of reaching here, by the opportunity afforded of 
 administering the solemn sacraments of our Church where 
 they had never been witnessed before, and for the benefit of 
 those who otherwise might not receive them from other hands 
 for years. 
 
 39 
 
III. THE PLAINS AND FORT MILLER 
 
 A 
 
 California 
 
 Pilgrimage 
 
 Monday y OB. 75. 
 BOUT 1 1 o'clock we took leave of our hos- 
 pitable hosts, several of the officers accom- 
 panying us on horseback for our first day's 
 ride. We had the same driver and heavy 
 wagon as before, with six mules, a guide on 
 horseback and two saddle horses, so that 
 some of us could always ride, and tUus relieve 
 ourselves and also lighten the wagon of our weight. 
 
 For the first few miles through the pass of the mountains 
 the scenery was exceedingly wild, and the descent so great that 
 we had to walk most of the way. The road descends 2,400 
 feet in five miles. From the mountain side we had a view of 
 the plain stretching as far as the eye could reach, and in the 
 distance, glancing in the sunlight, the waters of Kern Lake. 
 Just as we entered on the plain we passed a small Indian village 
 of about 40 persons. 
 
 We skirted the mountains about 1 2 miles, when we arrived 
 at the Indian Reservation. Here we were obliged to stop for 
 the rest of the day, as Major Townsend is ordered to investigate 
 40 
 
FORT MILLER, FRESNO COUNTY 
 
 APPROACH OVER THE OLD MILITARY ROAD 
 
its condition. There is here a tract of 30,000 acres set apart by ^ 
 the Government for the Indians, but at present there are some- California 
 what less than 300 residing on it. At this season, however, the Pilgrimage 
 wild Indians from the mountains come down to unite with them 
 in holding their annual Dog Feast, so that there are about i ,000 
 present. We passed them in groups, almost in a state of nudity, 
 washing their clothes by the little stream which flows through 
 the Reserve, and on reaching their grand encampment stopped 
 and walked through it. Their lodges were arranged in a circle, 
 all opening inwardly. They were lounging in the shade, roast- 
 ing dogs and eating, while the greater part of those otherwise 
 employed were gambling. The women particularly seemed to 
 be so intensely occupied this way that they could scarcely look 
 up to us. They sat in circles on the ground, and the favorite 
 game was one with sticks, a foot long, thrown about like jack- 
 straws. 
 
 We drove on about four miles to the residence of the Indian 
 agent. He has a plain house, with a hall and room on each side, 
 where he lives with eight or ten employees. A short distance 
 from the house, on a little knoll, is the grave of one of his men 
 killed a month before by a grizzly. 
 
 At dark we determined to visit the Indian camp to witness 
 some of their ceremonies. Horses were provided for us by the 
 agent, under whose guidance we went. There was just moon 
 enough to show the trails as we galloped over the prairies, and 
 long before we reached the camp we heard the sound of the 
 Indian drums. We found them all very busy, fires lighted in all 
 directions, and music, such as it was, sounding about. Some of 
 the party tried dog's meat, but I was willing to take their report 
 of it. This feast was in honor of the dead of the past year, and 
 
 43 
 
^ on one day during its continuance they bury all the efFedts and 
 California clothes of the departed. 
 
 Pilgrimage There was to be a war dance late in the evening by some of 
 the wild Indians, which was to take place outside of the camp. 
 A large fire was made, and we waited for an hour, during which 
 time some of the more civilized Indians, who had been at one 
 time at the old Missions, were singing songs. It was curious, 
 however, to hear in how nasal a tone this was done, sounding 
 very much like the intoning of the service by the old padres, 
 from whom they had undoubtedly caught it. Tired out with 
 waiting, I went into an Indian lodge near and threw myself 
 down to rest. As I lay there, looking up to the roof above me, 
 made of tula reeds, the only light being the glare of the fire 
 before the opening of the lodge, and listening to the discordant 
 singing of the Indians without, I could not help thinking how 
 strange it was to find myself in such a situation in this wild 
 country of the Pacific coast. 
 
 Hearing at last that the war party had finished painting and 
 were nearly ready, we walked out in search of them. We found 
 them grouped around the dim embers of a fire, so that they 
 were hardly distinguishable, singing in a low droning tone, as 
 if preparing their spirits for the task. After a time they rose, 
 and repairing to where the large fire had been built, ranged 
 themselves before it. The musicians, half a dozen in number, 
 seated on the ground on the other side, began their playing, a 
 rude chant, in which the dancers joined, accompanied by 
 the noise of sticks struck together. The dancers were entirely 
 naked, except a slight girdle round the loins, with a necklace of 
 bear's claws, and a tiara of feathers on their heads. Their bodies 
 were entirely painted, while their leader had a horizontal line 
 
 44 
 
drawn across his face just below the nose, the upper half of the -^ 
 face being painted white and the lower half black, through Caltfornta 
 which his teeth gleamed like those of a wolf. They had the Pilgrimage 
 appearance of demons more than anything else. 
 
 They commenced the dance, which was most violent in its 
 character, so that the perspiration rolled down from off them 
 in streams. It was a commemoration of the dead, and as those 
 who died in battle were mentioned in succession, the leader 
 went through the representation of their deaths, throwing 
 himself down on the ground and acting the last scene with its 
 struggles and exhaustion. Sometimes he threw himself into the 
 precise attitude of the antique statue, "The Dying Gladiator," 
 at Rome. As the dance went on, they seemed to work them- 
 selves up into an intense excitement, and would continue it, 
 we were told, till morning. I confess I was somewhat relieved 
 when late at night the signal was made for our party to dis- 
 engage themselves from the crowd of Indians and get without 
 the camp preparatory to our return. It was clear starlight, and 
 there was something exhilarating in our ride, as for about an 
 hour we followed the guidance of the agent over what seemed 
 to us the pathless prairie. 
 
 Can anything be done for the spiritual benefit of these In- 
 dians ? It is difficult to tell, as they are so migratory in their 
 habits, seldom remaining together in large bodies for any 
 length of time. The old padres succeeded with them because 
 there was no outside influence to oppose their schemes. There 
 is every variety of Indian tribe in this region, from the warlike 
 Indians at the north and on the borders of Mexico, down to the 
 Digger Indians, who seem to live a mere degraded animal life. 
 Still, the experiment might be tried on one of the northern 
 
 45 
 
A Reservations, where a better class of Indians are colledted. In- 
 California telledually these Indians seem to be exceedingly bright, and 
 Pilgrimage children taken into families as servants learn the English lan- 
 guage with great facility. 
 
 The Indian agent entertained us to the best of his ability, 
 giving one room in which there was a bed to myself and son, 
 and the only other room to the rest of our party, who slept on 
 the floor wrapped in their blankets. 
 
 Tuesday, OB. i6. 
 
 We were up by daylight, and after washing at a little stream 
 near the house, had breakfast furnished us at the agent's. After 
 driving about six miles, we came to some springs called "The 
 Sinks," where we found two men who had camped during the 
 night. This was the last water we were to see for more than 30 
 miles, and here, too, we took leave of all evidences of human 
 life for the rest of the day. Before us stretched a plain, scorched, 
 dry, and apparently boundless, without a tree for miles. At a 
 distance, during the earlier part of the day, we saw a lake, the 
 borders of which seemed lined with bands of antelopes. 
 
 By mid-day the sun was burning hot, and we dragged over 
 wastes of sand till our animals drooped, and we ourselves were 
 almost exhausted. At noon we halted a few minutes to rest, 
 though in the glare of the sun, and without leaving our wagon 
 took such lunch as our stores afforded. Then on — on we wiled 
 for the rest of the day. We met but one person — a Mexican on 
 horseback. In the afternoon the ground became rolling, and 
 as we dragged up each knoll we hoped to see some traces of the 
 promised river, but before us was only a new succession of the 
 same barren mounds. Our guide and driver began an animated 
 discussion about the dired:ion of the different trails, until we 
 
 46 
 
feared that they had mistaken their way. At length Major A 
 Townsend, riding forward to the crown of one of the mounds, California 
 announced that he saw the river below. We found it was in a Pilgrimage 
 deep valley, with a line of trees through it showing the presence 
 of water. We left the wagon to let it drive down the precipi- 
 tous bank, and then walked half a mile to the Kern River, 
 having traveled 3 3 miles without water. 
 
 The Kern River is about 100 feet broad, from two to six 
 feet deep, and flowing with a beautifully clear stream. On the 
 bank we found a canvas shantee belonging to a man who has 
 settled himself here and constructed a scow with which, in the 
 rainy season when the river is high, he ferries over any chance 
 passengers. He warned us to be on our guard, as the Mexicans, 
 some fifty miles above, having been driven out by the inhabi- 
 tants, were dispersed over the country, and had committed a 
 number of murders. 
 
 We crossed the river and camped in a grove of cottonwoods 
 and willows, perfed:ly tired out. Never was the sight of water 
 so grateful to us, and we now could realize the meaning of the 
 Eastern description — "a barren and dry land where no water 
 is.'* A good bath in the river, however, refreshed us, and after 
 building our fire and having supper, we spent a pleasant even- 
 ing reclining on our blankets about the burning logs. 
 
 Wednesday y October ly. 
 We were awakened before dawn by the howling of the 
 coyotes about us, and after a few hurried mouthfuls were off 
 before six. Late at night we had seen on the opposite side of 
 the river a fire, showing that some others had camped there. 
 At daylight they crossed, and we found they were two men on 
 
 47 
 
jl horseback from the upper mines, crossing the country to Kern 
 
 California River mines. On the plains they had taken the wrong trail 
 
 Pilarimaj^e and wandered about all day, almost dying of exhaustion. As 
 
 one of them expressed it, "starved to death for want of water." 
 
 Providentially, late at night they struck the Kern River. 
 
 After leaving the grove by the river, we entered at once 
 among the most desolate hills. Not a sign of herbage was seen 
 in them — not enough to attract a bee. We met with no evi- 
 dences of animal life through the whole morning, except a 
 large gray wolf, which was stealing away between the hills. 
 As one of our party said, it was "Sahara in mountains." The 
 road (if such it could be called) was an old Indian trail wind- 
 ing through the defiles between these barren hills, and so little 
 worn that most of the time we were obliged to walk to avoid 
 the steep pitches. As the day advanced the heat became almost 
 suffocating, as the hills excluded the air, while the reflection 
 of the sun from their sandy sides made an intolerable glare. 
 
 Our guide informed us that at noon we should reach a camp- 
 ing ground where there was water. At that time we saw indeed 
 a line of green trees in one of the valleys, showing a water 
 course, but on reaching it we found it almost entirely dry. 
 There were two springs near it, both so strongly impregnated 
 with sulphur that we could not drink of them, so that we had 
 to content ourselves with the hope of reaching White River in 
 the evening. We saw, however, numerous places around where 
 stakes had been driven into the ground for picketing animals, 
 showing that it had been frequently used as a camping ground. 
 
 The journey of the afternoon was as oppressive as that of the 
 morning. We were constantly passing deep gulches and over 
 hills where we had to get out and walk. How often, when we 
 
 48 
 
had taken refuge behind some rock against the heat of the sun, A 
 
 did we realize the force of that Scripture imagery — "Like the California 
 
 shadow of a great rock in a weary land 1" Towards evening a Pilgrtmage 
 
 large grizzly was seen about a mile from us, among the hills. 
 
 The two gentlemen who were on horseback, together with a 
 
 third, mounted on our guide's horse, went off with their rifles 
 
 to attack him, approaching from three points so as to distract 
 
 his attention, as he would probably make a rush at the first one 
 
 who fired. But Bruin, probably alarmed by seeing so many 
 
 approaching, galloped over the hill and took refuge in a ravine, 
 
 where he was lost to them. 
 
 At sunset we saw at a distance in the valley the line of green 
 trees which marked the course of White River. Our exhausted 
 animals seemed to toil on with new vigor, but our disappoint- 
 ment cannot easily be described when we found that it was en- 
 tirely dry — nothing but a bed of shining sand. We had traveled 
 33 miles, equal to 53 miles of ordinary traveling. We crossed 
 on the dry bed, and ranging up the bank for some distance, 
 came to the canvas house of a squatter, near whom we camped 
 in a grove of oaks. He had dug a shallow well, which was not 
 a spring, but water oozed up through the earth, and was as 
 muddy, therefore, as the usual water of our gutters. We pro- 
 cured enough, however, to make some tea, though there was 
 none for our poor animals after their hot day's work, and after 
 a hasty meal were soon asleep around our fire. 
 
 Thursday, OBober 18. 
 We were stirring long before dawn, and off as soon as it was 
 light enough to harness, it being necessary to push on as fast 
 as possible to procure water. The country was of the same 
 
 49 
 
A charadber as yesterday, sandy and desolate. When going up a 
 California hill,we discovered that one of the hind wheels was just coming 
 Ptlgrtmage off. The lynch-pin was gone, and we were detained while our 
 guide rode back some miles to look for it. His search, however, 
 was vain, and one had to be made from wood, though a poor 
 substitute for the iron one, and needing constant watching. 
 About lo o'clock we found a spring among the hills, sur- 
 rounded by a clump of willows, where, by building a dam 
 across the little trickling stream, we procured enough for our 
 breakfast and to refresh our wearied animals. After leaving 
 this spot, from the side of a hill we had a striking view of the 
 Great Tulare Valley. It stretched as far as the horizon, one 
 unbroken, scorched, and yellow waste, with what seemed a 
 single thread of green running through it, showing the course 
 of Deep Creek. 
 
 A few miles on we met a wretched looking objecfltravelingon 
 foot on his way from the mines. He seemed almost exhausted, 
 and we relieved his wants, as far as we could, by giving him 
 something to eat and drink, and dired:ing him where he could 
 find the spring we had left. A couple of hours afterwards we 
 met the sheriff with an assistant, who informed us he had been 
 breaking up a band of robbers, some of whom had been taken, 
 while others were still lurking within thickets on Tulare 
 River, where we exped:ed to encamp. 
 
 At noon we reached Three Creeks, but found it dry. A squat- 
 ter by the river had, however, dug some pits, from which we 
 procured a small supply of water. We passed through the same 
 kind of country till the middle of the afternoon, when we saw 
 at a distance the trees on the banks of Tulare River. We crossed 
 it and camped in a grove of oaks. After a refreshing bath in its 
 
 50 
 
beautiful clear waters, we had a visit from a Mr. G — , who had A 
 
 settled on the river near our camping ground. He invited us to California 
 
 tea, which we were most happy to accept, and we shall long Pilgfimage 
 
 remember the hospitality of these good people. Their house 
 
 was but a single room, with a couple of beds in the corners, but 
 
 they gave us a capital tea, at which they presided with a dignity 
 
 not often seen in "the states". We spent an hour after tea with 
 
 our host, during which time he entertained us with adventures 
 
 in the wilderness and stories of grizzlies attacking parties in the 
 
 thickets by the river where we had camped. We probably that 
 
 night were a little more careful than usual in keeping our fire 
 
 replenished. 
 
 Friday, OBober ig. 
 
 On our way, as usual, by daybreak. I awoke with a feeling 
 of illness which increased during our drive of 19 miles over a 
 scorched plain. We at length entered an oak forest of the most 
 splendid trees, having in it here and there small settlements of 
 Indians, who were busily engaged in collecting their winter 
 store of acorns. After going through this for nine miles we 
 came to a stream called "Four Creeks" which we crossed and 
 camped beyond among the oaks. It was but little past noon, but 
 the next water being 1 8 miles on, it was too far for our mules to 
 go that day. The woods here seemed to be swarming with 
 Indians, so that we are obliged to keep a stridt watch on our 
 wagon. 
 
 My illness having increased, I lay down on the hard boards 
 of the wagon, where I remained till sundown, thinking, in case 
 I was to be really ill, what should I do? — two days' journey 
 fromany settlement orphysician. Life in the wilderness answers 
 in perfect health, but not in sickness. Towards evening, feeling 
 
 51 
 
A better, probably from rest and abstinence, I crossed the river to 
 California a shell of a house which a squatter had erected on the opposite 
 Pilgrimage side, where we procured tea. The woman who prepared it for 
 us was suffering from fever and ague, which is common on all 
 these river bottoms. Her wretched appearance did not impress 
 us favorably with regard to our night's rest in the open air in 
 this malarious atmosphere. 
 
 Saturday, OBober 20. 
 
 Up before light, and drove about nine miles through the 
 oaks to a solitary house where we procured breakfast. The 
 house consisted of but one room, three of the corners of which 
 were occupied by beds. The next 1 8 miles were over the hot 
 plains — then about seven miles through the forest again, crossing 
 several dry river beds filled with cobble stones, till late in the 
 afternoon we reached Kings River, a bright stream about 200 
 feet wide. We forded it, and found on the opposite side a beau- 
 tiful plateau covered with oaks. Two teamsters had camped 
 there with their mules, who told us they were obliged to cross 
 the plains we had been over, in the night to avoid the excessive 
 heat. There were large bodies of Indians on the banks, whom 
 we visited after our camping was arranged. They employed 
 themselves in fishing and hunting, being exceedingly skillful 
 with the bow and arrow. 
 
 Being out of provisions, we purchased some fish of the I ndians, 
 while Major Townsend and our guide forded the river on horse- 
 back, and riding up some distance came to a settler's house, 
 where they bought some chickens and eggs. The fallen trees 
 around us furnished an abundant supply of fuel for our cooking 
 and fires through the night. 
 
 We had expedted this night to have reached Fort Miller, 
 
 52 
 
but found ourselves 30 miles distant. We had been mistaken in A 
 our calculations from the necessity of arranging our journeys California 
 each day with regard to the supply of water. Stay where we Pilgrimage 
 were, however, over Sunday, we could not. We had no pro- 
 visions, and the air was so malarious, that we found the Indians 
 about us, though born on the spot, were decreasing in numbers 
 through the effects of the fever and ague. Nothing remained 
 for us, therefore, but to push on next morning, and reach Fort 
 Miller as early as possible, that a portion of the day at least 
 might be devoted to its proper objects. 
 
 Sunday y OBober 2lst, 
 We were up this morning by four o'clock, long before the 
 faintest streak of dawn appeared in the east. After a hasty break- 
 fast of sea-biscuit and hard-boiled eggs, we set off while it was 
 so dark that we could not see the trail through the open woods, 
 but were obliged for some miles to trust to the sagacity of the 
 mules, leaving them to walk and find the path for themselves. 
 After a few miles we emerged from the oak openings, when 
 the rest of our way was, as usual, over the dusty, scorched plains. 
 Between 10 and 1 1 o'clock we reached the hills overlooking 
 Fort Miller, and walked on, leaving the heavy wagon to plunge 
 down the steep hill side as it best could. We passed through 
 the infant town of Millerton, on the San Joaquin River, about 
 half a mile from the fort. It consists of some 20 houses, most of 
 them of canvas, two or three being shops, and the majority of 
 the rest drinking saloons and billiard rooms. The population 
 is Mexican, or the lowest class of whites, and on this day they 
 seemed to be given up entirely to dissipation. 
 
 The fort is situated on a plateau overlooking the town and 
 
 53 
 
A river. It is an artillery fort, and at this time had about 70 men 
 California stationed here. The service of our Church had never been per- 
 Pilgrimage formed here, nor had there been anything to mark the day 
 when Sunday came. Arrangements were soon made after our 
 arrival for the service in the evening, and a broad hall in one of 
 the buildings devoted to the officers was cleared for that pur- 
 pose. The officers attended and many of the soldiers, and after 
 the Second Lesson I baptized the child of one of the privates. 
 A beginning having thus been made, before I left the fort I 
 licensed Dr. M — , the surgeon, a communicant of our Church, 
 to a6t as lay-reader, and arrangements were made for having 
 the service regularly every Sunday. 
 
 We remained at the post for ten days, resting from the fatigue 
 of our journey and enjoying the open hospitality of the officers. 
 Our arrangements were made to leave on Wednesday, leaving 
 behind Major T., whose professional duties required him to 
 remain for a few days, and one other of our party. Here, too, 
 we left our wagon, for a small stage had recently penetrated as 
 far as Fort Miller. It had only made two trips when we had 
 occasion to employ it. It runs to Snelling's — about 70 miles — 
 where we are in the region of the regular stage routes. 
 
 It came for us before daylight, and taking leave of our hos- 
 pitable entertainers, we commenced our journey on the banks 
 of the San Joaquin. About nine o'clock we stopped at a solitary 
 house intended for teamsters, where for one dollar each we had 
 a breakfast, but everything was so filthy that we could hardly 
 eat even after our long morning ride. The drive for the whole 
 day was over the same kind of country as during the preceding 
 week — desolate plains varied with an occasional hill, and now 
 and then a cattle ranch. We drove on through the whole route 
 
 54 
 
without stopping, except to change horses, until night, when A 
 
 we reached Snelling's Tavern, a central point from which California 
 
 stages go up through Mariposa county. Pilgrimage 
 
 The next morning the stage started at four o'clock, fortu- 
 nately bright moonlight, which lasted till daylight took its 
 place. We had half a dozen passengers, including a Chinese. 
 After fording Stanislaus River we had another wretchedly 
 filthy breakfast at a tavern on its banks. The country we passed 
 through began now to show signs of cultivation. Oak trees are 
 scattered park-like through it, and we passed rich farms, in- 
 creasing as we approached Stockton. We reached there at 
 4 p. m., just in time for the boat, and the next morning awoke 
 at the wharf in San Francisco, after being absent about a month. 
 
 Thanks to a kind providence, after all the dangers we had 
 passed through, we reached home without a single accident, or 
 any case of illness among our party. I was able to accomplish 
 all I designed. Knowing the state of things at Los Angeles, I 
 can now speak understandingly to any clergyman who can go 
 there, and I trust before next spring some such will be pro- 
 vided. Forts Tejon and Miller will have the services of the 
 Church regularly through their lay-readers, and need not again 
 be visited for a long while. The remainder of the country we 
 have passed through cannot evidently be settled for many years, 
 and I shall probably, therefore, never again be obliged to travel 
 the same route we did on this occasion. 
 
 SS 
 
COMMITTEE OF ARRANGEMENTS A 
 
 Very Rev. G. R. E. MacDonald, Chairman California 
 
 Mrs. L. L. Cory Pilgrimage 
 
 *Rev. George Greirsen Hoisholt 
 Mr. Charles H. Miller 
 Mrs. H. C. Tupper 
 Mr. L. a. Winchell 
 
 CLERGY {Vested) 
 
 Rt. Rev. Louis C. Sanford, D. D. 
 
 Bishop of San Joaquin 
 Rt. Rev. Wm. Ford Nichols, D. D. 
 
 Bishop of California 
 Rev. W. B. Belliss, Lindsay 
 Rev. a. Carswell, Madera 
 Rev. L. W. Doud, Ph. D. 
 Rev. David Todd Gillmor, Hanford 
 Rev. F. D. Graves, Reedley 
 Rev. a. L. Walters, Tulare 
 Rev. L. a. Wood, Porterville 
 
 LAYMEN {Vested) 
 
 Mr. Wm. C. Harvey, Crucifer 
 
 Mr. Haydn Arrowsmith, Flag Bearer 
 
 OTHER CLERGY 
 
 Rev. T. T. Giffen 
 
 Rev. Cornelius Richert 
 
 Rabbi Alexander Segel 
 
 * Absent 
 
 6i 
 
A 
 
 California ,, ^t a 
 
 *'^ Mrs. Havdn Arrowsmith 
 
 Pilgrimage Mr. Charles R. Barnard 
 Mr. Robert R. Barnard 
 Mr. B. L. Barney, Hanford 
 Mrs. W. B. Belliss, Lindsay 
 Mrs. N. J. Blayney 
 Mrs. Alfred Braverman 
 Mrs. F. R. Burchill, Lindsay 
 Mrs. J. H. Burnett 
 Mrs. Marian Camp 
 Mrs. Sarah Camp, San Francisco 
 Mrs. Edward Copland 
 Mrs. M. p. Copland 
 Mr. George R. Couper, Madera 
 Mrs. George R. Couper, Madera 
 Mrs. William Davidson, Porterville 
 Mrs. Milton Bearing 
 Mrs. Kate B. Everett, Tulare 
 Mrs. C. Evins 
 Miss Clark Farley 
 Mrs. G. M. Fickle, Reedley 
 Mrs. W. a. Fisher 
 Mrs. Jules Fontaine 
 Mrs. M. L. French, Selma 
 Mrs. Constance Ganse, Tulare 
 Mrs. T. T. Giffen 
 Miss Alice Giffen 
 Miss Marian Giffen 
 Mrs. J. W. Gillingham, Reedley 
 Mrs. F. D. Graves, Reedley 
 Miss Sarah Graves, Reedley 
 Mrs. Weltha Hall, Porterville 
 Mr. Thomas Harrison, Hanford 
 Mrs. Wm. C. Harvey 
 Mrs. G. a. Hatfield 
 Mr. R. J. Heathcote, Hanford 
 Mrs. Frank Helm 
 Mrs. George Helm 
 
 62 
 
 LAY PILGRIMS 
 
 Mrs. Annie R. Hewitt 
 
 Mr. J. D. Hirschler, Reedley 
 
 Mrs. J. D. Hirschler, Reedley 
 
 Mrs. Edward C. Hopkins, Porterville 
 
 Master Faris Melvin Humphreys 
 
 Mrs. Georgia Cox Ingram, Oilfields 
 
 Mrs. E. B. Isham, Porterville 
 
 Mrs. Wilhelmina Jensen, Parlier 
 
 Mr. Viggo Krag, Parlier 
 
 Mrs. M. L. Lechlider 
 
 Mr. O. D. Lyon, Reedley 
 
 Mrs. O. D. Lyon, Reedley 
 
 Mrs. G. R. E. MacDonald 
 
 Master Bruce Manson 
 
 Mrs. Guy Manson 
 
 Mr. W. T. Matting ly 
 
 Mr. J. C. McCubbin 
 
 Mrs. W. J. McNulty 
 
 Miss Luella Melvin 
 
 Mrs. Charles H. Miller 
 
 Mrs. S. J. Miller 
 
 Mrs. Fannie B. Minor 
 
 Miss Margaret Moore 
 
 Mr. H. R. Morton 
 
 Mrs. H. R. Morton 
 
 Master Henry Morton 
 
 Miss Louise Morton 
 
 Mr. a. C. Mudge 
 
 Mrs. Frank Naden, Clovis 
 
 Mrs. H. E. Patterson 
 
 Mrs. L. N. Peart 
 
 Master Roscoe Peart 
 
 Mr. a. W. Peters 
 
 Mrs. a. W. Peters 
 
 Master Archibald W. Peters, Jr. 
 
 Master Edwin Peters 
 
 Mr. Bernard Reinold, Madera 
 
 Mrs. Bernard Reinold, Madera 
 
LAY FILGRIMS— Continued 
 
 Mrs. J. G. Rhodes 
 
 Mrs. G. a. Riggins 
 
 Mrs. Susan Roberts 
 
 Mrs. F. E. Robinson 
 
 Mr. C. p. Roche 
 
 Mr. G. a. Roessler 
 
 Mrs. G. a. Roessler 
 
 Miss Julia Randolph Roessler 
 
 Mrs. J. E. Rolkey, San Jose 
 
 Mr. Fred P. Roullard 
 
 Mrs. Fred P. Roullard 
 
 Mr. Joel Roullard 
 
 Mrs. Joel Roullard 
 
 Mrs. Albert M. Rutherford 
 
 Mrs. L. C. Sanford 
 
 Master Royal Sanford 
 
 Miss Jessie Savage, Lindsay 
 
 Mrs. S. R. Scroggins, Selma 
 
 Mr. H. R. Shaw 
 
 Mrs. H. R. Shaw 
 
 Hon. S. L. Strother 
 
 Mrs. S. L. Strother 
 
 Dr. J. F. Summers 
 
 Mrs. G. H. Tayler, Reedley 
 
 Mrs. Montgomery Thomas 
 
 Dr. Roland Tupper 
 
 Mr. Walter G. Uridge " 
 
 Mrs. Walter G. Uridge 
 
 Mrs. Bruce Wagner, Hanford 
 
 Mrs. C. N. Wakefield 
 
 Mr. Ben R. Walker 
 
 Master Albert Clark Walker 
 
 Mrs. E. a. Walrond 
 
 Mrs. a. L. Walters, Tulare 
 
 Miss Dorothy Walters, Tulare 
 
 Master Henry Walters, Tulare 
 
 Miss Margaret Walters, Tulare 
 
 Mr. George S. Waterman 
 
 Miss Marion Wheeler 
 
 Mrs. L. a. Winchell 
 
 A 
 
 California 
 Pilgrimage 
 
Two hundred and fifty copies of A CaUfornia Pilgrimage 
 
 have been printed by Bruce Brough at San Francisco 
 
 in the month offune nineteen hundred twenty -one 
 
 No. 4 7 
 
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