At first we met many persons, all of whom warned us that we would be late in arriving, and recommended that we should stop at Rancho Seco.

We had no intention of so doing, but knew that we must turn at that point into a new road.

Between sunset and bright moonlight, there was an interval of darkness, and in that interval we must have passed the turning which led to Rancho Seco.

At all events, we presently found ourselves entirely at a loss, wandering over a rocky hill covered with brush, amid which the trail had entirely disappeared.
Retracing, as well as we could, our road, we finally found ourselves upon another trail which we followed until 9:30, when we met a little band of indians, the first whom we had seen for a long time.

From them we found that we were not upon the road for Cheran, but at the edge of a slope at the bottom of which was a little indian town, Tanaco.
Descending to it, we found a house where they agreed to shelter us for the night, and in the _tienda_ near by we bought hard bread and old cheese.