Padre Marini, the missionary, had embarked for Peru, and the whole city of Monterey was still laughing, dancing, singing, and love-making, just as I had left them.
The officers easily persuaded me to accompany them to Santa Fe, from whence I could readily return to Monterey with the next caravan.
A word concerning the Ciboleros may not be uninteresting.

Every year, large parties of Mexicans, some with mules, others with ox-carts, drive out into these prairies to procure for their families a season's supply of buffalo beef.

They hunt chiefly on horseback, with bow and arrow, or lance, and sometimes the fusil, whereby they soon load their carts and mules.

They find no difficulty in curing their meat even in midsummer, by slicing it thin, and spreading or suspending it in the sun; or, if in haste, it is slightly barbecued.

During the curing operation, they often follow the Indian practice of beating the slices of meat with their feet, which they say contributes to its preservation.
Here the extraordinary purity of the atmosphere of these regions is remarkably exemplified.