Not a field of maize or a trace of cultivation is to be seen; and the country, like the Steppes of the Crimea, seems only intended to be inhabited by a nomade race.
Having been furnished with a route, in which the Rancho of San Francisco was put down as our first night's lodging, and the distance stated to be only ten leagues from Catorce, we left the Cañada late, and proceeded until four in the afternoon, when we discovered, to our great dismay, the ruins of two Indian huts, to which the name of San Francisco may formerly have been given, but which we found to contain neither water nor maize, nor any symptoms of having been inhabited for many years. We were accordingly compelled to push on to El Bŏzăl, another Rancho about six leagues farther on, where we did not arrive until eight o'clock, having lost a good deal of time at San Francisco in an attempt to lasso some of our loose mules for the carriage; an operation which, in the open plain, was, as usual, attended with considerable difficulty. At the Bŏzăl we found four families residing in as many wretched hovels, the best of which was given up by the inhabitants to Mrs. Ward and the children, while Mr. Martin and I put up our beds in a hut, that usually served as a kitchen, and which, in order to give free egress to the smoke, was open both at the roof and sides. Dr. Wilson, Mr. Carrington, and Don Rafael, slept in the open air, within the fence of dwarf palms that surrounded Mrs. Ward's habitation.
