fairly in our power; then we gave the war-whoop, which a thousand echoes
rendered still more terrible.

We fired not a bullet, we shot not an arrow, yet we obtained a signal
victory. Soldiers and stragglers threw themselves on the ground to
escape from death; while the governor, trusting to his horse's speed,
darted away to save himself. Yet his cowardice cost him his life, for
his horse tumbling down, he broke his neck. Thus perished the only
victim of this campaign.

We took the guns and ammunition of our vanquished opponents, leaving
them only one fusil for every ten men, with a number of cartridges
sufficient to prevent their starving on their return home. Their leader
was buried where he had fallen, and thus ended this mock engagement. Yet
another battle was to be fought, which, though successful, did not
terminate in quite so ludicrous a manner.

By this time Fonseca was coasting along the shore, but the
south-easterly winds preventing him from making Monterey, he entered
the Bay of St. Francisco. This settlement is very rich, its population
being composed of the descendants of English and American merchants, who
had acquired a fortune in the Pacific trade; it is called _Yerba buena_
(the good grass), from the beautiful meadows of wild clover which extend
around it for hundreds of miles.

There Fonseca had landed with about two hundred rascals of his own
stamp; and his first act of aggression had been to plunder and destroy
the little city. The inhabitants, of course, fled in every direction;
and on meeting us, they promised the Indians half of the articles which
had been plundered from them if we could overpower the invaders and