20 _ SAN DIEGO TO 
to the Geysers, and he readily promised to go; but as 
he did not appear at the time appointed, we waited 
for him till twelve o'clock, and then determined to 
proceed without him. Mr. Osborne now joined our 
party, and we resumed our journey. 
The valley continued as before, level, and without 
his combative propensities were gratified—and he finally found himself 
one day at the “ jumping-off place,” and made his first attempt at ocean 
navigation on the bosom of the broad Pacific. In the unpretending 
skiff of an otter hunter, often unaccompanied save by his trusty rifle, he 
coasted the shores and islands of California in search of the pelt of his 
valuable prey. While employed one day (in the year 1836) in his 
regular pursuit, he chanced to steer his skiff into the navigable creek or 
estuary of Napa, rightly judging it a place of resort for his furry friends. 
The valley was then inhabited by none but Indians; and he made his 
way up to a beautiful spot, a few miles from his boat, which had been 
selected for a rancheria by a tribe called the “ Caymas.” Here he sat 
down to rest; when suddenly there flashed upon his mind, hike a gleam 
of light, a long-forgotten prophecy of an old fortune teller in his native 
State. He declares that the sibyl had predicted the spot of his future 
residence in terms exactly answering to the description of this valley, in- 
cluding all the accessories of grove, plain, mountain, river, and even “ me- 
dicine water,” as the Indians call the springs. The old man pondered 
over this prophecy, counted his gains, which had been considerable, and 
philosophized over the vicissitudes of human life, not forgetting, how- 
ever, to examine the valley more carefully. On his next visit to 
Monterey, he became a citizen of California, and obtained a grant of 
land, embracing the charmed spot indicated by the Western witch. 
He then came and settled it, purchasing cattle with his gains in the 
“lower country.” But the happy valley then swarmed with Indians, 
jealous of white men, and constantly fighting among themselves; so that 
this elysium was turned into a pandemonium by their screams and war- 
whoops. He quitted his skiff, formed an alliance offensive and defen- 
sive, with the rancheria of Caymas, erected a log house, after the man- 
ner of his ancestors in the days of Daniel Boone, and with his faithful 
rifle—the only fire-arm in the valley—not only stood and repelled the 
