TRAVELS IN THE CALI FORNIAS. 
97 
We ate and drank freely. Who could do otherwise ? The 
mellow laugh of childhood, the holy kindness of maternal 
care, the pride of the paternal heart, the love of woman, the 
sky and fragrant breezes of a Californian lawn, the open sea, 
the giant woodlands, the piping insects, the carolling of a thou¬ 
sand birds, the voices of a boundless hospitality, invited us to 
do so. The finest dish of all the goodly array of fat things, 
the brunette lips excepted, was the roasted mussels. The In¬ 
dians in attendance gathered a number of bushels, piled them 
upon a large log fire, and in a few minutes presented them to 
us, thoroughly cooked and delicious to the taste. Indeed I 
hope for no better fish. They are tender as an oyster, with 
as fine flavor ; and the abundance of them is really remarka¬ 
ble ! The coast is lined with them. 
Our festa ended near sunset. It had been as agreeable as 
our hosts’ best attentions could render it. The ladies also had 
vied with each other to make the occasion happy. But their 
gladness was forced. A deep gloom like that which the thun¬ 
der-cloud throws over the flowering meadow-land, saddened 
their smiles, arrested the laugh half-uttered, bent the figure, and 
shaded the warm glow of joy in the eye, with the cold 
watchfulness of alarm! Such was the influence of that 
prison ship, the last speck of which had been watched, as it 
sunk, hull, spars, and streamer, over the bending sea, freight¬ 
ed with chains and the misery of fellow-countrymen, that the 
heart could not be persuaded into happiness ! 
