TRAVELS IN THE C ALIFOR’NI AS. 
103 
the highland when the sun was a hand’s breadth above the 
O 
ocean. His burning farewell lay on the verdant hill-tops. 
Onward ! speed onward! The Bay is before us; its crested 
billows are gilded, like fretted gold, with rays from the upper 
rim of the sinking sun ! 
On the twenty-eighth of April the Don Quixote had com¬ 
pleted her business with P. I. Farnham & Co.’s ship Alciope, 
and was ready for sea. Captain Paty had laid in a generous 
supply of fresh beef, vegetables, and other comforts for his 
passengers; the foreign residents had presented the American 
with many little tokens of regard, in the form of fruits, wines, 
&c., to make the voyage comfortable. 
Eleven o’clock, A. M., we took leave of our countrymen, 
and others of the Saxon blood, on the rock where the prison¬ 
ers’ chains had lately clanked, and shoved off for the ship. 
One of the unpleasant circumstances attending journeys in 
wild and dangerous countries, is, the parting from persons of 
kindred feelings with whom we have wept or rejoiced. Many 
who had suffered in Monterey were still there. They had es¬ 
caped an apparently certain doom, and I had felt keenly every 
shade which progressive events cast on their fate, or lifted from 
their hopes of being saved from the death of felons. They were 
saved! They were glad ! But the fear of returning tyranny 
still hung over them. The same malignity held the reins of 
power; and the dungeon and bullet were under the control of 
the same demons. It was hard parting with those brave 
and abused men. The throats of villains could be made to 
bleed! The walls of justice and mercy could be reared 
around the social state in California. The acting government 
could have raised no force to prevent it. Britons and Ameri¬ 
cans could have done it; and the halter been made to claim 
its own. But that prison-ship and my hearth called me. 
“ On board !” “ On board !” Our boat lies under the lee 
of the good barque Don Quixote; the ropes of the gangway 
are seized ; and we stand on deck. “ Man the windlass 
u heave the anchor, cheerily, boys,” is ordered and done. 
16 
