on the south, I looked for the last time over the interesting city in which I had seen within the last eight months a whole drama performed, and had been forced myself to act a rather passive part in it, I could not help admiring once more its romantic situatiot, and my first, favorable impression returned. But there was no time now reflections: bidding farewell to the fair valley and to the distant Sacramento mountain, that rose like a massive tombstone over the battle-field, I crossed the hills and was soon in another valley, through which the road runs in a southeastern direction. This valley was about 10 miles wide, with a mountain chain towards the east and west, and but a few settlements on the right, (Mapula and Coursier's hacienda.) The grass was very dry, and the bed of several creeks which I passed contained not one drop of water. About 10 miles from Chihuahua the mountains, projecting from east to west, hemmed in the valley and changed it abruptly into a narrow pass (cañon) of five to six miles in length, and from half a mile to one mile in breadth. The pass is in some places so narrowed by steep rocks on both sides; that with some fortifications it could be made impregnable; but I am informed that the cañon would be evaded by taking a mountain road west of it that leads also to Chihuahua. Nearly in the middle of the pass lies a rancho, with a spring, but too scanty water. Lower down we passed a deserted rancho destroyed by Indians. Several Mexicans, killed by them, were buried here so superficially, with rocks heaped upon them, that their limbs were sticking out. At the other end of the cañon another much wider valley opened, through which we have now to travel. Bachimba lies about five miles off the cañon, in the plain; it is a hacienda with about one dozen houses, and a fine running stream. We encamped here tonight.
April 27.–Marched to-day 20 miles, to Santa Cruz, through the same wide valley, running from northwest to southeast. The mountains to the left of our road, towards the east, are about 23 miles distant; the Conchos river runs along that chain. The mountains to the right, or the west, are from five to 10 miles off. The whole wide plain is covered with mezquite and other shrubs, forming the so-called chaparráls. Walking and riding are both difficult through those thickets of thorny brush, and a man lost in a chaparráls is by far worse off than one lost in the prairie. In the chaparrál I met with different species of cacti in blossom: a small odd tree, (Koeberlinia,) seemed to be entirely composed of long green thorns; some yuccas raised their crowns, with a cluster of snow white flowers, above the shrubbery; also the purple-flowered Fouquiera splendens. I had seen the latter shrub already in the Jomada del Muerto, above el Paso, but not in blossom. As it is one of the most common and obnoxious plants in the continued chaparráls which will now surround us daily in our march to Monterey, I will give a short description of it. It grows in long branchless stalks, but a dozen of them standing sometimes together, covered all over with thorns, with few and quite small leaves, and at the upper end of the stalk a cluster of purple flowers. They grow generally from 10 to 20 feet high; sometimes I have seen them to the height of 30 feet. Their peculiar appearance, their height and red flowers, make them very conspicuous objects in the chaparráls. The Mexicans use them sometimes for hedges.
The soil was rather sandy, and grass scanty and poor, but the road firm and level. About 10 miles from Bachimba the road forks: the one to the left leads southeast to San Pablo; the other to the right, SSE., to Santa Cruz.
