112 SAN DIEGO TO 
the wooden axle-tree and bend the iron one. The 
injury did not appear to be serious; and as the road, 
though hilly, was very good, we hastened on. But 
this little accident, trifling as it seemed at first, proved 
a constant source of annoyance to us throughout the 
journey. 
Ten miles from San Diego, is Soledad hill, which is 
very steep and difficult to pass. One of our loaded 
wagons had upset here a few days before. The whole 
country hereabouts is hilly, and destitute of trees, 
except in the small valleys, where the accumulation of 
water after rains has sustained a few mezquit trees. 
The hills on both sides, and as far as the eye can reach, 
are covered with a thick growth of wild oats. Several 
families have lately settled here, who make a profitable 
business of cutting these oats and carrying them to 
market at San Diego, where they are in good demand. 
In the afternoon, we reached San Pasqual River, a small 
and limpid stream, running through a rich valley 
covered with fine grass, and in which hundreds of cat- 
tle were grazing. About a mile in advance, we saw a 
large rancho, to which we directed our course, having 
been invited to pass the night there. This was the 
hacienda of Mrs. Snooks, a California lady, the widow 
of an Englishman, who now resides at San Diego. 
Word having been sent to the family occupying the 
rancho that I would stop here, we met with a hospitable 
reception, and were provided with an excellent supper 
and beds. This was formerly one of the largest stock- 
raising establishments in the country; but the high 
price of cattle at San Francisco has induced the owner to 
drive them thither for sale. There were, however, still, 
