We could see cattle feeding in the nearest pastures, and the whole scene was a pleasant one; and as we sat on the eastern side of the ship and snuffed the cool breeze which came from the north, we thought we were comparatively happy people, and hoped that, if no accident befell, we would soon be at the end of our voyage.
On the seventh day of July, 1851, we entered the Golden Gate, this being my second arrival in California.

On our trip from Panama seven or more had died and been buried at sea, but the remainder of us were quite safe and sound.

We found the heart of the city still smoking, for a fire had broken out on July fourth and burned extensively, and these broad, blackened ruins were the result.

Some said the work had been done by the Sidney "ducks" and their numerous helpers, who were really the rulers of the city.

The place now looked much worse than it did when I left in November before.