When they went away they had no way to reward their good friends who had been friends indeed to them.  They could only look their thanks and express themselves in a very few words of Spanish. “Adios Amigos,” said they to the scantily clothed travelers as they set out on their way to the mines.

They followed down the course of the river that flowed through the valley, the Santa Clara River, and knew that it would take them to the sea at last.  Before they reached the mission of San Buena Ventura, near the sea, they ran out of meat again, for they had failed to find game as they had expected, and Capt.  Asa Haynes took the chances of killing a Spanish cow that looked nice and fat.  They camped around the carcass and ate, and smoked the meat that was left.  While thus engaged two horsemen approached, and after taking a good look at the proceedings, galloped off again.  When the party arrived at the Mission they were arrested and taken before the alcalde to give an account of their misdeeds.  They realized that they were now in a bad fix, and either horn of the dilemma was bad enough.  They could not talk Spanish; they had no money; they had killed somebody’s cow; they were very hungry; they might be willing to pay, but had no way of doing it; they did not want to languish in jail, and how to get out of it they could not understand.  Luck came to them, however, in the shape of a man who could speak both English and Spanish, to whom they told their story and who repeated it to the alcalde, telling him of their misfortunes and unfortunate condition, and when that officer found out all the circumstances he promptly released them as he did not consider them as criminals.  The cow was probably worth no more than ten dollars.

At Santa Barbara they found a chance to trade off some of their oxen for mares, which were not considered worth much, and managed the barter so well that they came out with a horse apiece and a few dollars besides, with which to buy grub along the road.  They depended mostly on their guns for supplying them with food.  They supposed they were about three hundred miles from San Francisco, and expected to meet with but few people except at the Missions, of which they had learned there were a few along the road.  At these there was not much to be had except dried beef.  However, they managed to use the guns with fair success, and at last arrived safely at Stockton where they sold some of their horses for more than double what they cost, and with a small number of horses they packed on to the gold mines.

Those of the party who went to Los Angeles managed in one way or another to get through on schooners, and many of them, after a year or two of hard work, made some money and returned to their homes in Illinois.  It is hardly necessary to add that they did not return via Death Valley.