similar instructions, I yet had some hopes of surprising them, although a broad and level tract of land about two miles in width intervened between my position at that time the opposite hills, where I expected to find the rancheria. Proceeding in person with fifteen men also to the right, but to the left of Lieutenant Samburn, I passed this open plain as cautiously as possible, and about 3 p. m. met Lieutenant Samburn returning, who reported no sign of rancheria in that direction.

Changing my course so as to intercept Captain Ayers, I met that officer about 4.30 p. m. and found that he had captured three other squaws while they were picking berries and grass seed near the creek, and had also found the rancheria and one small two-year-old colt.

There were evidently no Indians at the rancheria at the time, they having gone off early in the morning, the men in search of game, the women in search of grass seed. Through the medium of the interpreter I learned that these were only five men, five women, and three children at the rancheria. They had no food laid up for winter, and subsisted entirely on the grass seeds and what little game the men killed. The colt captured was to have been killed the next day. But for the extreme timidity (using no harsher term) of the guides I could undoubtedly have captured the whole party, as they had no notice whatever of my approach. I discovered subsequently that the guide took the spies a short distance ahead of the command the night before, representing to them that it was extremely dangerous to go any farther. Had he been possessed of but a moderate share of physical courage, I could have easily discovered this rancheria during the night, and captured every soul at daylight in the morning. This was the more to be regretted by me, as I knew that the escaped Indians would at once give notice to the neighboring rancherias before I could possibly discover them. The guide knew of but one trail, which of course was the old trail traveled years before by traders. Trails ran in many directions, but as I very soon discovered, it was a futile effort to endeavor to find Indians by the first well-beaten trail that presented itself. Camping about one mile from the rancheria, and posting a few men in ambush around it after dark to capture or kill any Indian that might venture to return during the night, I used every effort to induce the captives to lead me to a neighboring rancheria, if any there were, threatening to hang one of them. They finally consented to show me in the morning, declaring their inability to find it during the night. The night was dark, the country over which I had to pass very rough, and knowing how easy it was to lose a trail that was scarcely perceptible in places during the daytime, I was, much against my wishes, compelled to wait for daylight. The stream running through this bottom is clear and permanent, and to white settler the situation would be most desirable, as the bottom is as well adapted to farming as the upland is to grazing, which is truly excellent. This stream (Rio de Labor) runs into the Prieto about fifteen miles below this point. A very prominent and isolated mountain to the north side of this creek and near the rancheria, conical in shape, I called Sugar Loaf Mountain; distance traveled this day from last camp about ten miles.

Tuesday, October 18, leaving camp at daylight, having previously, and while it was yet dark, detailed one non-commissioned officer and ten men to relieve the men posted around the rancheria during the night, and instructing them to remain in concealment two or three hours after my departure, I crossed the creek and commenced the ascent of the mountain, which was rugged and rough in the extreme, over an Indian which could be plainly seen in daylight, but could not have