TflK NAUTILUS. 27 



his evident love of shells, the later acquisition was probably more in 

 harmony with the size of niy pocket-book. 



Away at daybreak Sunday morning, looking our last on " En- 

 senada," one of the goodliest sights to look upon it has been my 

 fortune to see in a fair amount of knocking about. A great sweep 

 of unbroken sand beach from " Ensenada Point" to " Punta Banda," 

 a distance of eighteen miles, the high range of Punta Banda break- 

 ing off abruptly into the sea to the south, the horseshoe being 

 completed by the low mesa-crowned Todos Santos islands. The 

 town of Ensenada nestles on the low beach under the high ridge 

 which forms Ensenada Point to the northwest, the broad valley 

 reaching back with few breaks for twenty miles then the foothills, 

 and back of all, as always, the great mountains ! It is our dry season 

 and everything is parched and brown, and the near-by ridges show 

 great outcroppings of black volcanic rock, but the blending of color 

 under our brilliant California sun, and the foreshortening of great 

 distances giving the effect of haze and softness, make a scene of 

 marvelous beauty. 



A glorious sail free with the prevalent northwest wind out 

 through the narrow gate between Punta Banda and the easterly 

 island of the Todos Santos group, which was alive with seal and 

 waterfowl, and down a bold coast for twelve miles to cast anchor 

 under the lee of the " Santo Tomas " headland noted all along the 

 coast for its frequent storms. Here we divided up, one to sleep, two 

 to fish, two to hunt deer, and two to collect shells and algae. All 

 were successful but the deer-hunters. Unfortunately I did not keep 

 my Santo Tomas collections apart from others, so I can give no fair 

 idea of my catch, but a single Haliotis rufescens, Swainson, repre- 

 sents the only species not appearing in the list which closes this 

 article. 



Away again at sunrise for our final southward stretch. All day 

 we ran almost before the wind, the coast growing generally more 

 bold and culminating in Cape '' Colnet," a great promontory pre- 

 senting an almost unbroken face to the northwest, a cliff many miles 

 long and many hundred feet high. We round the Cape with a half 

 gale, and bear away southeasterly to our final destination, the little 

 island of San Martin, lying five miles off the coast and ten miles 

 from San Quintin, the first land-locked harbor in 200 miles from San 

 Diego. We cast anchor at 3 a. m., and all hands slept late. 



