On our way droves of antelopes could be
seen frolicking over the broad plains, while in the distance were herds
of elk winding their way from the mountains towards the river for water.
When far away their horns were the first things visible, and they much
resembled the dry tops of dead pine trees, but a nearer view showed them
to us as the proud monarchs of the plain.
When we came up opposite the mouth of the Merced river we concluded to
try again to cross. The river here, as below, was out of its banks, and
the overflowed part was quite wide which we had to pass through before
we could reach the river proper.
I waded in ahead of the team and sounded the depth of the river so as
not to get in too deep water, and avoid if possible such accidents as
might otherwise occur. Sometimes the water was up to the wagon bed and
it looked a little doubtful of our getting through in safety, but we
made it at last.
We found a narrow strip of dry land along the river bank. A town was on
the east side of the San Joaquin. river, just below where the Merced
river came in. I think this place was called Merced City. This so-called
city contained but one residence, a tent occupied by the ferryman. We
crossed the sluggish stream and for the privilege paid the ferryman, ten
dollars for toll. The road was not much used and the ferry business
seemed lonesome.
Here we camped for the night. The mosquitoes soon found us, and they
were all very hungry and had good teeth.
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