o,
when the winter rains had just set in, a tall, spare man, who talked
some French and some Spanish, came down over the mountains with a pack
containing pocket-knives, razors, soap, perfumery, laces, and other
curious wares, and besought our people to purchase. We have not much
coin, but were disposed to treat him Christianly, until he did declare
that President General Santa Ana, whom may the saints defend! was a
thief and gambler, and had gambled away the Province of California to
the United States; whereupon we drave him hence, the Ayuntamiento
sending a trusty guard to see him two leagues from the borders of the
Pueblo. But months after, we discovered his pack and such of his poor
bones as the wild beasts of prey had not carried off, at the base of a
precipice where he had fallen. His few remains and his goods were
together buried on the mountain-side, and I lamented that we had been
so hard with him. But the saints forbid that he should go back and tell
where the people of San Ildefonso were waiting to hear from their own
neglectful country, which may Heaven defend, bless, and prosper."

The little town took on a new interest to us cold outsiders after
hearing its strange and almost improbable story. We could have scarcely
believed that San Ildefonso had actually been overlooked in the
transfer of the country from Mexico to the United States, and had for
nearly forty years been hidden away between the Sierra and the sea; but
if we were disposed to doubt the word of the good father, here was
intrinsic evidence of the truth of his narrative. There were no
Americans here: only the remnants of the old Mexican occupation and the
civilized Indians. No traces of later civilization could be found; but
the simple dresses, tools, implements of husbandry, and household
utensils were such as I have seen in the half-civilized wilds of
Central America. The old mill in the canon behind the town was a
curiosity of clumsiness, and nine-tenths of the water-power of the
arroya that supplied it were wasted. Besides, until now, who ever heard
of such a town in California as San Ildefonso? Upon what map can any
such headland and bay be traced? and where are the historic records of
the pueblo whose well-defined boundaries lay palpably before us? I have
dwelt upon this point, about which I naturally have some feeling,
because of the sceptical criticism which my narrative has since
provoked. There are some people in the world who never wi