While Junipero and his companions were thus engaged in planting the
faith among the Indians of San Diego, Portolà's expedition was meeting
with unexpected trials and disappointments. The harbour of Monterey had
been discovered and described by Viscaino at the beginning of the
seventeenth century, and it seemed no very difficult matter to reach it
by way of the coast. But either the charts misled them, or their own
calculations erred, or the appearance of the landscape was strangely
deceptive - at any rate, for whatever reason or combination of reasons,
the exploring party passed the harbour without recognizing it, though
actually lingering awhile on the sand hills overlooking the bay. Half
persuaded in their bewilderment that some great catastrophe must, since
Viscaino's observations, have obliterated the port altogether, they
pressed northward another forty leagues, and little dreaming of the
importance attaching to their wanderings, crossed the Coast range, and
looked down thence over the Santa Clara valley and the "immense arm" of
San Francisco Bay. By this time the rainy season had set in, and
convinced as they now were that they must, through some oversight or
ill-chance, have missed the object of their quest, they determined to
retrace their steps, and institute another and more thorough search. On
again reaching the neighborhood of Monterey, they spent a whole
fortnight in systematic exploration, but still, strangely enough,
without discovering "any indication or landmark" of the harbour. Baffled
and disheartened, therefore, the leaders resolved to abandon the
enterprise. They then erected two large wooden crosses as memorials of
their visit, and cutting on one of these the words - "Dig at the foot of
this and you will find a writing" - buried there a brief narrative of
their experiences. This is reproduced in the diary of Father Crespé[3];
and its closing words have a touch of simple pathos: "At last,
undeceived, and despairing of finding it [the harbour] after so many