He said we were about 500 miles from San Francisco, not far from 100
miles from the coast and thirty miles from Los Angeles. We were much
afraid we would not be able to get anything here, but he told us to go
across the valley to a large live oak tree which he pointed out, and
said we would find an American there, and we should wait there till
morning. He said he would go back and stay at the house we had passed,
and would do what he could to assist us to go to Los Angeles where we
could get some supplies. Then he rode away, and as we talked it over we
saw no way but to follow the directions of our newfound friend.
It seemed now that my lameness had indeed been a blessing. If I had been
able to walk we would now have been well on toward the seashore, where
we could have found no such friend as this who had appeared to us. The
way seemed clearer to us, but the time for our return was almost up and
there was no way of getting back in fifteen days as we had agreed upon,
so there was great danger to our people yet. It seemed very likely to
take us twenty four or thirty days at best, and while they probably had
oxen enough to provide them food for so long a time they might take a
notion to move on, which would be fatal.
At the big live oak tree we found an American camper, who was on his way
to the gold mines. He was going a new route and said the mines could be
reached much quicker than by going up the coast by way of San Francisco.
A new company with wagons was soon to start out to break the road, and
when they crossed the east end of the valley he would follow them.
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