_20th day._ We started up the river at six o'clock in the morning with the intention of finding an open spot where a cross might be set up, and where we might cease our ascent of the river, turn around, and retreat downstream. After three leagues, when the launches were close to the western shore, some rafts were noticed in a near-by tule swamp. On going to investigate these some [of our Indian] converts came upon a village of heathen, who fell upon them with weapons and with the ferocious screams to which they are accustomed. Quickly the Commandant went with the troops and the other converts to talk to them. They were pacified and explained themselves, saying that they had taken up arms thinking that we were enemies. They presented us with _torous_, which is a kind of roasted soap root, and came in peace, telling us that a little higher up was their village and that there they would wait for us in order to give us fish. We had our meal and then set out, going a league higher up. But we did not encounter or see a village or a heathen Indian except a poor old man, sleeping under a tree, who had not yet heard our boats. We gave him some pinole and sent him on his way. Seeing that no one was coming, we made a cross on an oak tree. The cross having been consecrated and worshiped by our company, served to mark the limit of our upward journey. At this place it appears to be possible to approach by land in the dry season, because although in the immediate vicinity tules are to be seen, nevertheless probably everything is dry by October for there is no water other than the overflow from the river. It is therefore to be supposed that from here on it is better to follow the course of the river by land than by water. In this manner the immense expanse of land may be explored which extends to the end of the Sierra Nevada and which likely is inhabited by innumerable heathen. Once the entrance to the Sierra is discovered, which the end seems to offer as a probability, it would be possible to test the truth of the story which the Indians have told for many years that on the other side of the Sierra Nevada there are people like our soldiers. We have never been able to decide definitely whether they are Spaniards from New Mexico, Englishmen from the Columbia, or Russians from Bodega. From here we could make out at about ten leagues northwest the very high hill called Jesus Maria by the troops who have passed near its slopes. It is entirely covered with snow.[29] It is said that near by flows a large river of the same name which enters the Sacramento River, and it is to be suspected that it is a branch of the Columbia. This I heard from some soldier, and it may be true. We went upstream today four leagues north and northwest.