Chapter 7

The arrival of Dr. Eschscholtz and the baidars from Ross was still delayed, and I really began to fear that some misfortune had befallen them in the tempest: my joy therefore was extreme, when at last, on the 12th of October, the baidars, twenty in number, entered the harbour undamaged, and we received our friend again safe and well. The little flotilla had indeed left Ross before the commencement of the hurricane, but had fortunately escaped any injury from it, by taking refuge at a place called _Cap de los Reges_, till its fury was expended; but the voyagers had been obliged to bivouack on the naked rock, without shelter from the weather, and with very scanty provisions. Dr. Eschscholtz, however, not in the slightest degree disheartened by the difficulties he had undergone, was quite ready to join the voyage I had meditated for the examination of the adjacent rivers.

All our preparations were now completed; we again took on board our pilot Marco, and a soldier from the Presidio, who offered to accompany us. On the 18th of November the weather was favourable, and we set out with a barcasse and a shallop, both well manned and provided with every necessary, in company with the Aleutian flotilla. At first we took the same course I have before described, towards the mission of St. Gabriel; cutting through the waters of the southern basin, and working our way between the islands into the northern portion of the bay; then adopting an easterly course, so that St. Gabriel remained at a considerable distance to the left in the north-east. We reached towards noon, at a distance of thirty miles from our ship, the common mouth of the two before-mentioned rivers, which here fall into the bay.

The breadth of this embouchure is a mile and a half, and the banks on both sides are high, steep, and little wooded. It is crossed by a shallow, not above two or three feet deep; but on its east side the channel will admit ships of a middling size fully laden. The current was so strong against us, that it was with much exertion our rowers accomplished crossing the shallow. We landed on the left bank in order to determine the geographical position of the mouth, and found the latitude 38° 2' 4", and the longitude 122° 4'. After finishing this task, I ascended the highest hillock on the shore, which consisted of strata of slate and quartz, to admire the beauty of the prospect. On the south lay the enviable and important Bay of St. Francisco with its many islands and creeks; to the north flowed the broad beautiful river formed by the junction of the two, sometimes winding between high, steep rocks, sometimes gliding among smiling meadows, where numerous herds of deer were grazing. In every direction the landscape was charming and luxuriant. Our Aleutians here straggled about in their little baidars, and pursued the game with which land and water were stocked: they had never seen it in such plenty; and being passionately fond of the chase, they fired away without ceasing, and even brought down some of the game with a javelin. The Aleutians are as much at home in their little leathern canoes, as our Cossacks on horseback. They follow their prey with the greatest rapidity in all directions, and it seldom escapes them. White and grey pelicans about twice the size of our geese were here in great numbers. An Aleutian followed a flock of these birds, and killed one of them with his javelin; the rest of the flock took this so ill, that they attacked the murderer and beat him severely with their wings, before other baidars could come to his assistance. The frequent appearance of the pelican on this river, proves that it abounds in fish; a remark that our pilot Marco confirmed; and we ourselves saw many large fish leap to the surface of the water.

When the sailors had rested some hours, we continued our voyage up the stream; but it was ebb-tide, and both currents united allowed us to make but little progress. We landed therefore at six o'clock, after working only a few miles, and pitched our tents for the night in a pretty meadow. The river flowing as before, from the north, was here a mile broad, and deep enough for the largest ships.

On the following morning we broke up our camp at break of day, and, favoured by wind and tide, sailed swiftly forward in a direction almost due north. The aspect of the river now frequently changed: its breadth varied from one to two and three miles. We often came into large reaches many miles in circumference, and surrounded by magnificent scenery. We sailed past pretty hilly islands adorned with lofty spreading trees, and every where found a sufficient depth of water to admit the largest ships. The steep banks sometimes opened to delightful plains, where the deer were grazing under the shadow of luxuriant oaks. The voyage was in fact, even at this time of year, a most agreeable excursion.

When we had proceeded eighteen miles from our night camp, and twenty-three from the river's mouth, we reached the confluence of the two streams. One flows from the east, and the other from the north. The Spaniards call the first Pescadores; farther inland it receives two other rivers, which, according to our pilot, are equally broad and deep as itself: the missionaries have given them the names of St. Joachim, and Jesus Maria. Some way up these rivers, whose banks are said to have been uncommonly fertile and thickly peopled, the pious fathers have journeyed to convert the Indians and procure labourers for the missions. Now that a part of the natives have yielded to conversion, and others have fled farther into the interior to escape it, no human being is to be found in the tract of land which we were surveying; no trace remains of a numerous race called Korekines, by whom it was once inhabited. Since the river Pescadores was already known, I chose the other, which flows from the north, and is called Sacramento. Towards noon, after we had ascended it some miles, a violent contrary wind forced us ashore; latitude 38° 22'.

The wind increasing every moment in strength, we were obliged to give up for this day all thoughts of making farther progress; and resolving to pass the night here, pitched our tents in a pleasant meadow on the west side of the river. I then climbed a hill, to enjoy a more extensive prospect; and observed that the country to the west swelled into hills of a moderate height, besprinkled with trees growing singly. In the east and south-east the horizon was bounded by icy mountains, the Sierra Nevada, part of the immense chain which divides America from north to south: they appeared to be covered more than half-way down with ice and snow. The distance of these mountains from my present station could not be less than forty miles. Between them and the river the country is low, flat, thickly wooded, and crossed by an infinite number of streams, which divide the whole of it into islands. We had not yet met a single Indian; but the columns of smoke which rose from this abundantly irrigated tract of land, showed that they had taken refuge where the dragoons and their lassos could not follow to convert them.

It seems certain that the river Pescadores, as well as those of St. Joachim and Jesus Maria, which fall into it, take their rise in the icy mountains, since they flow from the east, and pass through the low lands, where they receive a multitude of smaller streams. On the contrary, the river Sacramento flowing from the north, from quite another region, has its source, according to the Indians of the mission, in a great lake. I myself conjecture, that the Slavianka, which falls into the sea near Ross, is an arm of it.

The many rivers flowing through this fruitful country will be of the greatest use to future settlers. The low ground is exactly adapted to the cultivation of rice; and the higher, from the extraordinary strength of the soil, would yield the finest wheat-harvests. The vine might be cultivated here to great advantage. All along the banks of the river grapes grow wild, in as much profusion as the rankest weeds: the clusters were large; and the grapes, though small, very sweet, and agreeably flavoured. We often ate them in considerable quantities, and sustained no inconvenience from them. The Indians also eat them very voraciously.

The chase furnished us with ample and profitable amusement. An abundance of deer, large and small, are to be met with all over the country, and geese, ducks, and cranes, on the banks of the rivers. There was such a superfluity of game, that even those among us who had never been sportsmen before, when once they took the gun in their hands, became as eager as the rest. The sailors chased the deer very successfully.

When it grew dark, we kindled a large fire, that our hunters, some of whom had lost their way, might recover the camp. In the night we were much disturbed by bears, which pursued the deer quite close to our tents; and by the clear moonlight we plainly saw a stag spring into the river to escape the bear; the latter, however, jumped after him, and both swam down the stream till they were out of sight.

At sunrise, as the wind had fallen a little, we continued our voyage. On the shore we met with a small rattlesnake, which might have been a dangerous neighbour. It was, however, his destiny to become our prize, and enrich the collection of Dr. Eschscholtz. The river now took a north-westerly direction. Its breadth was from two hundred and fifty to three hundred fathoms, independently of numerous branches on the east side, flowing between various small islands. The country on the west bank was of a moderate height; that on the east was low. The power of the current impeded our progress, though our rowers exerted all their strength. As the sun advanced towards the meridian, the north wind also rose again; so that with our utmost efforts we could advance but little, and at noon we were obliged to lay-to again, having proceeded only ten miles the whole day. The latitude on the western shore, where we now landed, was 38° 27', and the longitude 122° 10'.

Here we had reached what proved the termination of our little voyage. The unfavourable state of the weather would not allow of our making any farther progress; and our pilot assured us that at this season the quantity of rain that falls, so much swells the river and strengthens the currents, as to make it impossible to contend with the continually increasing force of the stream. We were therefore compelled to abandon the farther prosecution of these inquiries to some future traveller, whose fate shall lead him hither in summer time, when these obstacles do not exist.

The neighbourhood of our landing-place seemed to have been recently the abode of some Indians. We found a stake driven into the earth, to which a bunch of feathers was attached for a weather-cock; in several places fire had been kindled, as some burning embers still attested. There were also two Indian canoes made of reeds. The pilot gave me the names of two tribes who had formerly dwelt in this region, and probably still wandered in its vicinity--the Tschupukanes, and Hulpunes. We could now see the smoke of their fires rising from the marshy islands, the higher parts of which they inhabit.

The majestic chain of mountains of the Sierra Nevada looked most beautiful from this spot. The whole eastern horizon was bounded by these masses of ice, and before them the low land lay spread out like a verdant sea. From the Bay of St. Francisco, the Sierra Nevada are nowhere visible; but they first come in sight after having passed the point where the Pescadores and the Sacramento unite.

The day was again passed in sport, and we shot many stags, the meat of which proved extremely good. During the night we were again disturbed by the little wolves so common here: they stole some pieces of our venison. Early the next morning we prepared for our return, and soon quitted these lovely and fertile plains, where many thousand families might live in plenty and comfort, but which now, from their utter loneliness, leave a mournful impression on the mind, increased by the reflection that the native Indians have been nearly exterminated. During our return voyage, we were very diligent in taking soundings, and found the water in the middle of the river always as much as from fifteen to seventeen and twenty fathoms; but at its mouth not more than four or five fathoms deep.

On the 23rd of November we again reached our vessel, laden with venison for the whole crew. Captain Lasaref had arrived during our absence with his frigate; having struggled with storms almost the whole way from New Archangel to St. Francisco. With the intention of sending letters home by him, I had waited for his arrival to leave California. Our vessel was therefore now immediately prepared for sailing, our camp on shore broken up, and all the instruments brought on board. During the last night our people passed on land, they killed a polecat which had slunk into the tent. This animal, of the size and form of an ordinary cat, has so abominable a smell, that its vicinity is insupportable. Dogs, when they sometimes attack and bite these creatures, cannot relieve themselves from the stench, but continue to rub their noses so violently against the ground as they run, that they leave a stream of blood on their track. Polecats may be considered in the brute creation what the Kalushes are among men.

On the morning of the 25th of November, as soon as the tide ebbed, we towed out of the Bay of St. Francisco with a north-west wind, which here regularly brings fine weather. The sea was still so much agitated by the recent south-west storms, that it rolled large billows into the channel which unites it with the bay. Our vessel being dashed against these breakers by the force of the current from the channel, would no longer obey the helm, and we narrowly escaped being cast against a rock. I would therefore recommend others of my profession only to sail out of this bay when the water in the channel is tranquil, which usually happens after the wind has blown for several days from the north-west.

According to repeated observations, we found the latitude of the Presidio of St. Francisco to be 37° 48' 33", and the longitude 122° 22' 30". The declination of the needle was 16° east.

The medium of our observations in the bay gave us the time for high water, at the new and full moon, 11 hours and 20 minutes.

The greatest difference in the height of the water was seven feet. The rivers which fall into the bay have a great influence on the times of ebb and flow, so that the ebb lasts eight hours, and the flood only four.

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

THE SANDWICH ISLANDS.

On losing sight of the Californian coast, we steered southwards, to take advantage as soon as possible of the trade-wind, proposing by its means to sail direct for the Sandwich Islands. A strong and lasting north-wester favoured our intention, and on the 3rd of December we crossed the tropic of Cancer in the latitude 133° 58', gained the trade-wind, and began our run westward, supposing ourselves secure from storms in this tropical region; we were, however, mistaken: already on the 5th a high wind from the south-east compelled us to take in all sail; on the 6th it shifted to the west, and on the 7th to the north. We experienced from this quarter some violent gusts, after which the heavens cleared, the storm abated, and towards evening on the 8th, we regained the ordinary trade-wind. I mention these storms, only because they are almost unexampled at so great a distance from land, between the tropics, and especially as coming from the west; but it appears that this year was quite out of the ordinary course, and produced a number of strange phenomena of which we heard complaints wherever we went.

The weather, after treating us so ill, again became friendly, and the remainder of our voyage proceeded swiftly and favourably under the magnificent tropical sky: agreeable it was sure to be; for the peculiar charm of a sail between the tropics is appreciated by all seamen. An old English captain, with whom I became acquainted during this voyage, assured me that he could imagine no greater luxury for the remainder of his life, than to possess a good quick-sailing ship, to keep a good table, and to sail between the tropics, without ever making land. I cannot, I confess, altogether participate in this true seaman-like taste: on my voyages, the mere sight of land has always been my great source of pleasure. The conduct of a vessel through distant seas, and through its conflicts with the variable element, is not indeed an uninteresting occupation; but the object which has always chiefly attracted my inclinations, is an intimate knowledge of various countries and their inhabitants; and I have always considered the time spent at sea, as a necessary hardship submitted to with this reward in view. Perhaps I was not born for a sailor: an accident, by no means calculated upon in my previous education, made me such in my fifteenth year.

We sailed in the night past O Wahi, the principal of the Sandwich group, with its celebrated giant mountain Mou-na-roa. At break of day on the 13th, we saw in the west the elevated island of Muwe, and continued our course along the northern shore of this and its neighbour Morotai, to Wahu, where we intended to land. The landscape of a tropical country is always pleasing, even when, as here, high lava hills, and masses of sometimes naked rocks piled like towers upon each other, form the principal features of the coast, at first inspiring the navigator with doubts of its fertility. But how agreeably is he surprised, on reaching the southern shores of these islands, to meet with the most smiling scenery, and most luxuriant vegetation. In the middle of the channel, between the islands Muwe and Morotai, lie two small uninhabited islands, which, strange to say, are not marked on Vancouver's map. We took some pains to ascertain their exact situation.

At four o'clock in the afternoon, the high yellow rock which forms the eastern point of the island of Wahu, became plainly visible above our horizon. We could not reach the secure harbour of Hanaruro, which lies on the southern side of this promontory, before nightfall, and therefore thought it advisable to lay-to between the islands Wahu and Morotai. In the morning, after doubling the conical mountain called the Diamond Mountain, we suddenly came in sight of the harbour, containing a number of ships decorated with the flags of various nations.

I must here make a few remarks for the benefit of such navigators as are not well acquainted with these waters. Whoever wishes to sail in between the islands of Wahu and Morotai, must remember, that throughout the year a strong current always sets here towards the north-west; and that the eastern point of Wahu should be doubled within the distance of three miles from the coast; as farther out to sea, calms are very prevalent here, whilst in the neighbourhood of the land, a fresh breeze regularly sets, in the morning, from the land, and from noon till evening from the sea.

Behind its harbour, safely sheltered by the coral reefs, lies the town of Hanaruro, consisting of irregular rows of dwellings scattered over an open plain. Here and there among the huts are seen houses built of stone in the European fashion. The former lie modestly concealed, under the cooling shade of palm-trees; the latter stand boldly forward, braving the burning sunbeams and dazzling the eye by their overpowering whiteness. Close to the shore the fortress rears its strong turreted walls in a quadrangular form, planted with cannon, and bearing the striped national flag of the Sandwich Islands. The country above the town rises in an amphitheatre, planted with tarro-root, sugar-cane, and banana, and the view to landward is bounded by precipitous mountains invading the clouds, and thickly overgrown with fine trees. In this beautiful panorama we see at once that the island of Wahu deserves the appellation it has acquired,--of the garden of the Sandwich Islands.

As we approached the harbour, I made the usual signal for a pilot, and we soon after saw a boat of European construction making towards us; it was rowed by two naked _Kanachas_, as the lower class of people are here called, the pilot sitting at the rudder in an European dress. When he came on board, I recognised him for the Englishman, Alexander Adams, who on my former voyage in the Rurik had commanded the ship Kahumanna, belonging to King Tameamea; he was now chief pilot. The wind did not immediately allow us to run into the harbour, but in a few hours it became favourable, and our skilful pilot guided us safely through the intricacies of its narrow entrance. Our ship was the largest that had ever passed through this channel, which would be impracticable for first-rate vessels.

Some of the ships we found in the harbour were English and American whalers, which had put in here for provisions; others were on trading voyages to the north-west coast of America for skins, or returning thence with their cargoes. Some were from Canton, laden with Chinese produce, which finds a good market in the Sandwich Islands; and one was a French ship from Bordeaux, which having carried a cargo of iron wares to Chili, Peru, and Mexico, had brought the remains of it here. All the captains visited me in the hope of hearing news from Europe; but many of them had left it later than we had, and accommodated us with their London newspapers.

If we consider that scarcely fifty years have elapsed since these islands were first introduced by Captain Cook to the knowledge of the European public, and that the inhabitants were then completely what we call savages, that is, that they were wholly destitute of any conception of the arts, sciences, or habits of civilized life, we shall find with surprise that the harbour of Hanaruro already bears a character almost entirely European, reminding us only by the somewhat scanty clothing of the natives, of the briefness of their acquaintance with our customs.

My readers, I think, will take some interest in a short account of this people, whose rapid progress in civilization would perhaps by this time have placed them on a level with Europeans, if unfavourable circumstances had not thrown obstacles in the way of their improvement, which it will require another such governor as Tameamea to overcome.

The eleven islands named by Cook after his patron, the Earl of Sandwich, but for which the natives have no common appellation, lie between the nineteenth and twenty-second degrees of north latitude. They are all high and volcanic. O Wahi, the most easterly, and by much the largest, is eighty-seven miles long and seventy-five broad: it has three mountains, which may well bear a comparison with the highest in the world. The climate of these islands is particularly beautiful and healthy. Their population is estimated by Captain King at four hundred thousand; whose colour, form, language, and manners, testify their relationship with the other islanders of this great ocean, though they have very little knowledge of them. Their earliest history consists of traditions of truths interwoven with fables, which ascend to the first peopling of the islands, and are not yet embodied in the relation of any voyage. I have collected them carefully from the accounts of the most distinguished and intelligent man in Hanaruro, my friend Karemaku, a Spaniard named Marini, who had long resided here, assisting as interpreter.