532 CORPUS CHRISTI 
should have perished in an open boat; so we kept as 
close as possible. 
January 4th. The wind blew violently during the 
whole night, and the morning opened upon us as cold 
as ever. The buckets of water that stood outside the 
door were covered with ice an inch thick. During 
the forenoon, the wind began to subside, so that I was 
enabled to take a ride to some of the beautiful places 
in the vicinity. Several of the party, including Dr. 
Webb, Major Emory, and Mr. Radziminski, set out in 
wagons for Indianola, preferring that mode of convey- 
ance. Mr. Henry Jacobs and two of the servants were 
all that would undertake the boat voyage with me. 
About noon a lght breeze sprung up from the land, 
when we embarked in our little craft for Saluria, a 
small port on the Gulf, at the entrance to Matagorda 
Bay, about one hundred and forty miles distant. We 
had not proceeded more than ten or twelve miles, be- 
fore the wind died away and left us becalmed. Creep- 
ing beneath the deck that covered the forward part of 
the boat, we stretched ourselves on our blankets in a 
space about three feet wide, where we contrived to get 
a little sleep. 
January 5th. The morning found us on the oppo- 
site side of Corpus Christi Bay, a light breeze wafting 
us eastward towards Aransas Pass. The navigation 
here is carried on with boats of light burden through 
the shallow bays or lagunas, which line the west and 
north-west shores of the Gulf of Mexico. These 
bays are exceedingly shallow, sometimes presenting a 
breadth of ten or fifteen miles, by a hundred or more 
in length. Yet these broad spaces of water are often 
