Resting there a while and getting some information, we again started in the direction of a mountain to the north of the Saunas, called the Gavillano.

It was quite dark when we reached the Saunas River, which we attempted to pass at several points, but found it full of water, and the quicksands were bad.
Hearing the bark of a dog, we changed our course in that direction, and, on hailing, were answered by voices which directed us where to cross.

Our knowledge of the language was limited, but we managed to understand, and to founder through the sand and water, and reached a small adobe-house on the banks of the Salinas, where we spent the night: The house was a single room, without floor or glass; only a rude door, and window with bars.

Not a particle of food but meat, yet the man and woman entertained us with the language of lords put themselves, their house, and every thing, at our "disposition," and made little barefoot children dance for our entertainment.

We made our supper of beef, and slept on a bullock's hide on the dirt-floor.