Dysentery. The rainy season set in early, a short time previous to our ar- rival; the mud is knee deep and in some places the streets absolutely impass- able; we are consequently obliged to wear wading boots, said boots costing only $75 the pair. We had very fine weather for a few days but do not ex- pect it will last long. Met Ed Barber the other day, he is well and hearty, don't know whether he will be able to dig much gold on evangelical prin- ciples; it isn't the way others dig it anyhow, as you would admit if you could see the gambling table. That Parker house is "the place" in San Fran- cisco; if there is another place like it in the world I would like to see it. Stay at home, John, is my sincere advice to all who do not consider Gold para- mount, for a man has to live like a dog here. No one possessing any energy can fail to make money, still, nevertheless, notwithstanding— do not suppose from this that I regret having taken this step, or feel discouraged or dis- heartened in the slightest. I do not regret it and never shall and would not recall the past eight months if I could, for I have seen and learned much . . .
Ever yours W.H.D.
Y)Q2^j^y San Francisco, June 17, 1850.
No change has taken place in my business since writing you last. I am now endeavoring to sell out, if I can do so without too great sacrifice, shall then mount a good horse and visit the mines going to Stockton and Sacra- mento City, and then the prodigal will return home, not as badly off I hope as a certain prodigal we read of in the Good Book. I returned a few days since from "Pueblo de San Jose" the seat of government, a most beautiful place, and if you like you shall take the ride with me. After an early dinner we mount two of my best horses and in company with an agreeable friend commence our long ride, leaving behind us the City of San Francisco, fa- mous for wind and dust. We slowly ride until we reach the Mission de Do- lores, distant three miles, of which you have heard before, and now com- mences a beautiful, smooth hard road, and we push our good horses into a brisk gallop, for 'tis four o'clock and we have thirty-five good miles to pass over before we reach our stopping place for the night. On we go over hill and through pretty valleys filled with troops of horses and herds of cattle, now and then meeting a party of Mexicans with their droves of pack mules, jogging patiently along chatting together and smoking their eternal cigar- itos. The country is almost destitute of any kind of timber and nothing meets the eye save immense level plains and lofty smooth swelling Hills; and now we come to Sanchez Ranch,^ distant eighteen miles from San Francisco, and after giving our horses a taste of the clear brook which ripples across the road we push on for the Mission of Saint Mathews,^^ five miles farther; and now the face of the country is changed, we are beyond the influence of the chilling coast wind which renders San Francisco so unpleasant, the air
