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December 11, 1860: Los Angeles

December 11, 2010
Los Angeles

by Brande Jackson, on Flickr

[Today] it rained very heavily all day. It began before daylight and drowned us out at dawn. Soon the water was ankle deep in the tent. Oh, the comforts of camp in these tropical rains, when it doesn’t rain but pours! Ditches were dug, but were insufficient, stakes were freshly driven to keep the tents from blowing down in the wind, then blankets, instruments, books, maps, etc., were transported to the driest tent—lucky that we had but four in camp! We breakfasted on raw bacon and dry bread. An unoccupied hut was found, where we built a fire and spent a part of the day, and two spent the night there. I stuck to the tent, along with the cook.

At ten at night the men arrived with the wagon, but I sent them into town to sleep. They brought me some papers and two letters from San Francisco, the first and only ones I have yet received. I sat up in bed—that is, in my blankets—and read them. But how the rain came! It poured, it battered through the canvas until I was wet; yet I slept well that night, although between the letters and the novel situation, my dreams carried me back to other scenes with other friends around me.

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