Part 2

Their method of welcoming us was like this: at sunrise the ten Indians came, one behind another, singing and dancing. One carried the air, making music with a little stick, rather long and split in the middle, which he struck against his hand and which sounded something like a castanet. They reached the camp and continued their singing and dancing for a little while. Then they stopped dancing, all making a step in unison, shaking the body and saying dryly and in one voice, "Ha, ha, ha!" Next they sat down on the ground and signalled to us that we must sit down also. So we sat down in front of them, the commander, I, and the commissary. Now an Indian arose and presented the commander with a string of cacomites, and again sat down. Shortly afterward he rose again and made me a present of another string of cacomites, and again sat down. In this way they went making us their little presents, another Indian giving me a very large root of chuchupate which he began to eat, telling me by signs that it was good.

This compliment being over, they invited us to go to their village, indicating that it was nearby. The commander consented to give them this pleasure, and at once we began to travel. They followed after us with their singing and dancing.... After going a short distance we came to the village, which was in a little valley on the bank of a small arroyo, the Indians welcoming us with an indescribable hullabaloo. Three of them came to the edge of the village with some long poles with feathers on the end, and some long and narrow strips of skin with the hair on, which looked to me like rabbit skin, hanging like a pennant, this being their sign of peace. They led us to the middle of the village where there was a level spot like a plaza, and then began to dance with other Indians of the place with much clatter and yelling.

A little afterward a rather old Indian woman came out, and in front of us, for we were on horseback, nobody having dismounted. She began to dance along, making motions very indicative of pleasure, and at times stopping to talk to us, making signs with her hands as if bidding us welcome. After a short while I said to the commander that that was enough. So he gave presents of glass beads to all the women, they regaled us with their cacomites, and we said goodby to everybody in order to continue on our way. They were apparently sad because we were leaving, and I was moved to tenderness at seeing the joy with which we were welcomed by those poor Indians. Their color and other qualities of nakedness, slight beard, etc., are the same as those seen hitherto, and the same as those we saw farther on. Some wear the hair long, others short, and some have beards rather long and heavy.

Font and Anza had an excellent opportunity to observe aboriginal methods of navigation and fishing. At the western end of Carquinez Strait, says Anza (A, p. 140), five tule rafts crossed the strait in less than a quarter of an hour, the tide being slack. Font says, regarding these craft (F2, p. 320):

We saw there some launches very well made of tule, with their prows or points somewhat elevated. They had been anchored near the shore with some stones for anchors, and in the middle of the water some Indians were fishing in one.... I saw that they were fishing with nets and that they anchored the launch with some very long slim poles.

These poles were measured and found to be about 13 varas long (roughly 35 ft.). Font goes on to describe the actual taking of fish:

Among other fish which they caught the Indians who were fishing pulled out two very large ones, about two varas long, and their method of catching them was this: as soon as they felt from the pull made by the fish that it was in the net, which was tied to the two poles, they began gradually to raise one of the poles, and as soon as the fish and the net came in sight, without taking it from the water they gave the fish many blows on the head. Once I counted fifteen blows in succession and in another case twenty-odd. Now that it was dead and had lost its strength they took it from the net and put it inside the launch.

A soldier traded a piece of cloth for a fish. But the Indians

... before delivering it took the spawn from the stomach and an intestine like a pocket, and right there on the spot they ate the spawn raw and put what was left over in the intestine. They then went to eat the other fish, which they dispatched quickly. Making a little fire they put it in, and in a short time, almost before it was hot, like brutes they ate it as it was, almost raw.

Some war equipment was seen. Near the camp on Walnut Creek at Pacheco, the party was visited by local Indians with whom there was a little trouble.

Some of them came to see us, carrying bows and arrows, for all had very good ones and well made, the bow of good wood, small and wound with tendons like those we saw on the Channel, and the arrows of little reeds, very smooth, well made, and with flints, transparent and very sharp. One came with a scalp hanging from a pole. This did not please me, for it suggested war.

Near the camp there were two villages: one, says Anza (A, p. 143), "which we left behind" and another, "which we have immediately ahead." Between the large rancheria of Tormey and the two just mentioned there appear to have been no Indian settlements whatever.

The day of Wednesday, April 3, was spent in crossing the low hills east of Concord and in traveling along the southern shore of Suisun Bay as far as Antioch Bridge. Neither Anza nor Font has particular comment concerning the one and one-half leagues, which brought them to the summit of Willow Pass, overlooking the area of Pittsburg. Beyond this point the explorers entered the northwest corner of the San Joaquin Valley, or the western tip of the delta. They probably had just left Costanoan territory, although, to be sure, the exact tribal boundaries are unknown. At any rate it is preferable to limit the present discussion to the region west and south of the low hills which extend from Port Chicago southeast to the vicinity of Byron. The rancherias which were seen near Antioch would therefore be more profitably considered in a survey of the valley tribes than in one of the East Bay and adjacent coast ranges.

Thursday, April 4, was spent in the famous attempt to cross the great tule swamps. In the course of this effort the party bore southeastward along the margin of the tules as far as the latitude of Bethany (Bolton, 1930, III: 148n). Thence they turned inland over Patterson Pass and, if Bolton's reconstruction is correct, followed up the ridge to the east of Arroyo Mocho. No trees or water were encountered until a point was reached not far southeast of Livermore. In the meantime, no Indians were seen and no traces of villages observed along the line of march.

The journey of Friday, April 5, took the party into the rough country due east of Mt. Hamilton as far as the southeastern edge of San Antonio Valley at the head of the east fork of Coyote Creek. The terrain was extremely hilly and was covered with oak and coniferous trees, probably principally digger pine, although Font says he saw "spruce." Great stretches of chamise (_Adenostema fasciculatum_), which Anza calls "Mattal," were observed. The descriptions make it clear that the type of vegetation and the general appearance of the country were essentially as they are today.

Only a few streams are mentioned: Arroyo Mocho is described merely as an "arroyo in a canyon." There were several small watercourses near the upper end of San Antonio Valley, and water in pools was found at the lower end near the night's camp. These streams may have been Sulphur Spring Creek and San Antonio Creek.

The area was destitute of natives. The only mention of Indians is by Font (F2, p. 414).

In the course of the valley [San Antonio Valley] we saw some ruinous and abandoned little huts, but the only Indian seen was at a distance and running, for as soon as he saw us he fled for the brush of the Sierra like a deer.

Also, referring to the fruit of "a plant like a fig tree" which appears to be the buckeye, he says that "the heathen eat it, judging from the piles of its shells which we saw in the abandoned huts." A reasonable inference from Font's account is that in this area there were no permanent Indian settlements but in places there were temporary camp sites, used in the time of maturity of the local tree-crops (buckeye and perhaps acorns).

On April 6 and the first part of April 7 the party descended Coyote Creek, through Gilroy Hot Springs to the valley of the Pajaro River. The country throughout this stretch is described as hilly and rough, but little further description is given.

In all this journey we did not see a single Indian, although we found some tracks of them, and in places a few signs and traces of ruined huts and small villages; for it is known that at times they go to the sierra and camp, especially during the seasons of the pinon and the acorn.

From the Font-Anza diaries, together with that of Crespi, certain tentative conclusions may be reached.

1. The distribution of vegetation in 1775 was substantially the same as described by the American settlers of 1850 and thereafter and, allowing for the devastating influence of the white man, more or less as it is today. The exceptions are the removal of forests, such as the redwood stand on the Oakland hills, and the spread of introduced plants which has possibly occurred on the southern shore of Carquinez Strait. In the relatively untouched interior ranges there has been no significant alteration.

2. There is some question with regard to water supply. In his trip of 1772, between Milpitas and Pinole, Crespi mentions seeing or crossing 31 arroyos, all with running water. The date was from March 25 to 29. Anza and Font went at almost the same time of year (March 31-April 1, 1776) from Warm Springs to Rodeo, and report 20 or 21 arroyos. Of these only 2 or 3 contained abundant water; approximately 10 had only a small amount. The rest were either not described or were without water. Since there can have been no profound alteration in climate or geography in the few years between the two expeditions, the difference must be accounted for on the basis of relative precipitation during the preceding winters. Such a theory is supported by Font's statement (F2, p. 418) regarding the marshes and lagoons in Gilroy Valley: "Since it had not rained much this year it was quite dry...."

Examination of the modern maps is instructive. The U. S. Geological Survey quadrangles for the Bay Area were mapped in the decade 1895 to 1905, with subsequent re-editing. Thus the picture presented antedates the disruption of natural conditions caused by the population expansion of this century. The USGS sheets now show 20 streams between Milpitas and Rodeo which were named on the maps, or whose names are otherwise well recognized. These are, from south to north: Arroyo Coches Creek, Calera Creek, Scott Creek, Toroges Creek, Agua Fria Creek, Agua Caliente Creek, Mission Creek, Alameda Creek, San Lorenzo Creek, San Leandro Creek, the creek flowing past Mills College, the creek flowing out of Diamond Canyon through Fruitvale, Indian Gulch, Claremont Creek, Strawberry Creek, Codornices Creek, Wildcat Creek, San Pablo Creek, Pinole Creek, and Rodeo Creek. In addition there are approximately 12 unnamed creeks or arroyos descending the front slope of the hills onto the plain. The total, 32, conforms very closely with the descriptions left by the Spaniards in 1772 and 1776.

It is further to be noted that the government surveys of the period of 1900 showed all these streams as intermittent and therefore dependent for their flow upon the winter rainfall. Thus it is quite probable that in late March the amount of water might be copious (as in 1772) or relatively scanty (as in 1776). The conclusion seems warranted that, apart from dessication induced by such factors as soil damage, overgrazing, and diversion for minor irrigation projects, the local water supplies have not diminished since 1770. It then follows that under primitive conditions the natives had substantially the same quantity of water at their disposal as is available in the same area today.

3. The distribution of Indian population was quite clearly marked. Crespi (see above) encountered 5 villages from Milpitas to San Lorenzo. Anza mentions 6 villages in the same distance, most of which were north of Irvington. Both Crespi and Anza describe seeing no further villages until they reached Wildcat Creek. Thereafter they saw a village on each of San Pablo, Pinole, and Rodeo Creeks. Crespi puts 5 villages between Pinole and Crockett. Anza refers to only one, in addition to the one on Rodeo Creek, viz., the large village at Tormey. All accounts agree that there were no settlements between Crockett and Concord Valley, where 2 villages were found by both parties. On the return journey, Crespi traversed the valley from Walnut Creek to Dublin, Pleasanton, and near Niles, and noted a scattering of rancherias at least as far as Pleasanton. The Anza expedition, after leaving the delta, crossed the hills back of Mt. Hamilton and emerged near Gilroy, all without noting a permanent habitation site. From these accounts it is clear that the heavy concentration of population was along the Bay shore, locally centering on the large arroyos and avoiding the strip where Oakland and Berkeley now stand. Secondary centers were in the broader and lower interior valleys, west and north of Mt. Diablo. The narrow canyons and the brush-covered belts of the main axis of the Coast Range were destitute of inhabitants.

4. The numerical value of the population was estimated from the Crespi diary as 2,400. We may assay a comparable estimate from Font and Anza.

The six villages seen on the way from Warm Springs to San Lorenzo were largely abandoned by the inhabitants, who had fled in terror. Hence no population estimate is given. However an average of 100 persons each would be a reasonable assumption.

North of Berkeley an abandoned village was seen, probably on Wildcat Creek (possibly Strawberry Creek). Then a village of 100 persons was found on San Pablo Creek and another "fair sized" village probably on Pinole Creek. At Rodeo Creek was a village larger than the other two. Allowing 100 persons each for the abandoned village and the "fair sized" village and 150 for the one on Rodeo Creek, the four sites may be considered to represent at least 450 inhabitants. The village at Tormey had a population of 400, according to Font, and 500, according to Anza. No others are mentioned except the two in Concord Valley to which may be ascribed 100 persons each. If we use Font's estimate of 400 for the largest town, the total from Warm Springs to Concord Valley is 1,650. This is reasonably close to the value of 1,900 derived from Crespi.

For the remainder of the Northern Costanoan territory, since Anza found no inhabitants south of the Livermore Valley, we have to use the figures derived from Crespi: approximately 500 for the interior valleys. The total, then is 2,150 as compared with the 2,400 based upon Crespi's account alone. In any case, the present estimate is purely tentative and must be considered in the light of the Mission baptism records which are subsequently described.

THE CANIZARES EXPEDITION

During the period of initial land exploration attempts were made to secure information by water. The most important such episode was the voyage, if one may call it that, made by Jose Canizares in 1775. Canizares was the first mate of the ship, San Carlos, under command of Juan Manuel Ayala. Ayala was commissioned to survey the entire San Francisco Bay area, but was unable to complete the task because of illness. He therefore delegated the interior exploration to Canizares, who fulfilled the mission in late August and early September. The results of the trip are embodied, first, in a series of maps, and second, in a letter by Canizares (1775) to Ayala. (For historical background, the work of Cutter, 1950, may be consulted.)

The maps are three in number, all versions of the same map drawn by Canizares, and dated respectively 1775, 1776, and 1781. The first is very poorly executed and shows little more than the outline of the Bay; it is not reproduced here.

The second (map 2) is carefully done and gives an extensive list of localities. The original is in the Ministry of War, Madrid, Spain. It is an elaboration of, and a very great improvement on, a map drawn by Ayala in 1775 which showed merely the outline of San Francisco, without detail. Ayala's map has slight value, hence it is not shown here, but a copy is available in the Bancroft Library, Berkeley.

Since the present map is itself reproduced from a photograph of a photograph, the text of the legends in the boxes is very faint and blurred. To facilitate reading, these legends have been copied, with translations. The symbols used on the map are the Latin alphabet, using capitals, for twenty-three items; they then continue as Greek letters, which are difficult to decipher and do not run strictly in sequence. Hence, for convenience, I have substituted in the legends numbers for the Greek letters, number 1 following Z of the alphabetical series. The use of these numbers in conjunction with the Greek letters on the map will not be difficult. In the left-hand column is the Spanish text; in the right-hand column, a literal translation. No attempt is made to correlate the names given by Canizares with those applied at the present time.

The third map (map 3) copies the second, is carefully done, and gives essentially the same information, but varies in minor points. Canizares remained in San Blas for several years after his visit to San Francisco. During this period his 1776 map was apparently redrawn by Manuel Villavicencio, in 1781, presumably under the supervision of Canizares himself. Whether it is more accurate than the 1776 map is open to question. Small and capital letters are used for the localities on the map and in the legends.

The letter describing the survey of the Bay was written by Canizares and addressed to "Senor Capitan," obviously Ayala. It was dated September 7, 1775, "en este nuebo Puerto de S. Fran^{co} al abrigo de la Isla de Los Angeles." This document, which is an account of the first boat trip throughout San Francisco Bay, has never, to my knowledge, been published. Its intrinsic interest, consequently, as well as its bearing upon primitive geography and ethnography, warrants its presentation. A translation follows herewith. Various matters requiring comment are discussed immediately subsequent to the translation.

_Canizares' Report_

On the four occasions when I went out to explore this port and survey its northeastern and north-northeastern portion I discovered what is shown on the map and is set forth here. To the north-northeast of the Island of Los Angeles, at a distance of one mile, there is a bay which runs north-northwest to south-southeast. The distance across between the points which form it is about two leagues and its length two and one-half. In its northwestern part there are three little islets, forming with the coast a narrow channel, which is shut off at its southwestern mouth by a shoal. Around all the margin of the bay are folded hills, with very few groves of trees and these which there are consist in part of laurel and live-oak; there may be seen in the interior to the west-northwest a forest of trees, which from afar seem to be pines. In the middle of this sound there is situated a great high cliff with some submerged rocks on the northeast side. As the map shows its depth is sufficient for anchorage; it no doubt is a roadstead for such vessels as have good cables and anchors, for much trouble would be caused by the current which flows here and which would not be less than four knots.

To the north-northeast of the said bay is a gap, the width of which might be two miles, in which are four white islands of small size, the northernmost forming with those on the southern shore a channel of 9 fathoms. These islands form the separation from another bay more capacious than the preceding, the diameter of which might be about eight leagues and the form of which is a perfect isosceles triangle. The above mentioned gap separates into two channels. The first, on the southwest shore, turns to the northwest a long mile distant, eventually disappearing in two big inlets, which are situated on the same shore, four leagues away from the opening which communicates with the first bay. If one goes a league and a half from the northwestern end of the inlet running farthest to the north, he rounds a point and discovers toward the west-northwest a spacious sound. I did not explore this because the channel which communicates with it is so restricted and narrow, there being scarcely three _codos_ of water. From here a low island, level with the surface of the water, runs toward the east-northeast, ending at a point where the mountains divide. The second channel, which is quite large and capable of being sounded, immediately trends northeast, one quarter east, until it reaches the dividing point in the mountains where it enters a canyon, following the direction mentioned.

All this bay, which is called the round [bay]--although it is not such--is bordered by rough mountains without trees except two groves in the coves which are situated to the southwest. All the rest of it is arid, hilly and of melancholy aspect. Aside from these channels, in no part of the bay does its depth reach five _codos_; at low tide there are two and a half, and some areas are dry. It is not difficult to enter, but it will be difficult to get out of, for we found that the prevailing winds are from the southwest. Having examined its shores exhaustively, I found no fresh water, nor even indication that there had been any in former times.