Wi | 17] 
“tempted to transport them would have required one half of our 
fighting force, and it was decided most expedient to wait until they 
could be carried on horseback. At night, Lieutenant Beale, of the 
navy, Mr. Carson, and an Indian, volunteered to go to San Diego, 
29 miles distant—an expedition of some peril, as the enemy now 
occupied all the passes to that town. 
e observations made to-night give, for the latitude of this 
camp, 33° 03’ 42”, and the longitude 117° 03’ 29”, | 
Don Antonio Robideaux, a thin man of fifty-five years, slept next 
to me. The loss of blood from his wounds, added to the coldness 
of the night, 28° Fahrenheit, made me think he would never see day- 
light, but I was mistaken. He woke me to ask if I did not smell 
coffee, and expressed the belief that a cup of that beverage would 
save his life, and that nothing else would. Not knowing there had 
been any coffee in camp for many days, I supposed a dream had 
carried him back to the cafés of St. Louis and New Orleans, and 
it was with some surprise I found my cook heating a cup of coffee 
over a small fire made of wild sage. One of the most agreeable 
little offices performed in my life, and I believe in the cook’s, to 
whom the coffee belonged, was, to pour this precious draught into 
the waning body of our friend Robideaux. His warmth returned, ~ 
and with it hopes of life. In gratitude he gave me, what was 
then a great rarity, the half of a cake made of brown flour, almost — 
black with dirt, and which had, for greater security, been hidden 
in the clothes of his Mexican servant,a man who scorned ablutions. 
I eat more than half without inspection, when, on breaking apiece, _ 
the bodies of several of the most loathesome insects were exposed 
to my view. My hunger, however, overcame my fastidiousness, 
and the: morceau did not appear particularly disgusting till after 
our arrival at San Diego, when several hearty meals had taken off — 
the keenness of my-appetite, and suffered my taste to be more del- 
tcate. : 
Last night the brave Sergeant Cox died of his wounds, and was 
buried to-day deep in the ground, and covered with heavy stones, to 
- prevent the wolves from tearing him up. This was a gallant fellow, 
who had, just before leaving Fort Leavenworth, married_a pretty 
wif ae 
e. : . : 
December 10.—The enemy attacked our camp, driving before 
them a band of wild horses, with which they hoped to produce a 
stampede. Our men behaved bh a aige a4 coolness, turning off _ 
the wild animals dexterously. Two or three of the fattest were 
killed in the charge, and formed, in the shape of a gravy-soup, an 
agreeable substitute for the poor steaks of our worn down brutes, 
on which we had been feeding for a number of days. pe 
Doctor Griffin gave the welc me information that all the sick, | 
but two, were able to get in the saddle, and orders were given to 
~ march the next morning. - ay: a mG 
There was little expectation that Carson and Lieutenant Beale 
would succeed in reaching San Diego; the hiding place pointed — 
out by Burgess was examined, and the letters from San Diego were 
not found. ee 
on 
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