Lost in the Fog [pp. 570-579]

LOST IzN THE FOG.
view of the headlands, and by midnight
we had stretched out to sea again, and
were once more out of our reckoning.
At daybreak, however, the fog lifted,
and we found ourselves in sight of land,
and a brisk breeze blowing, we soon
made Pigeon Point, and before noon
were inside the Golden Gate, and ended
our long and adventurous cruise from
Bolinas Bay by hauling into the wharf
at San Francisco.
I have little left to tell. Of the shameful way in which our report was received,
every newspaper reader knows. At first
there were some persons, men of science and reading, who were disposed to
believe what we said. I printed in one
of the daily newspapers an account of
what we had discovered, giving a full
history of San Ildefonso as Father Ignacio had given it to us. Of course,
the other newspapers, as I find is usual
in such cases, pooh-poohed the story
their contemporary had published to
their exclusion, and made themselves
very merry over what they were pleased
to term," The great San Ildefonso Sell."
I prevailed on Captain Booden to make
a short voyage down the coast in search
of the lost port. But we never saw the
headland, the ridge beyond the town,
nor anything that looked like these
landmarks, though we went down as
far as San Pedro Bay and back twice
or three times. It actually did seem
that the whole locality had been swallowed up, or had vanished into air. In
vain did I bring the matter to the notice of the merchants and scientific men
of San Francisco. Nobody would fit
out an exploring expedition by land or
sea; those who listened at first, finally
inquired "if there was money in it?" I
could not give an affirmative answer,
and they turned away with the discouraging remark, that the California Academy of Natural Sciences or the Society
of Pioneers were the only bodies interested in the fate of our lost city. Even
Captain Booden somehow lost all interest in the enterprise, and returned to
his Bolinas coasting with the most stolid
indifference. I combatted the attacks
of the newspapers with facts and depositions of my fellow voyagers as long as
I could, until one day the editor of the
Daily Trumpeter (I suppress the real
name of the sheet) coldly told me that
the public were tired of the story of San
Ildefonso. It was plain that his mind
had been soured by the sarcasms of his
contemporaries, and he no longer believed in me.
The newspaper controversy died away
and was forgotten, but I have never
relinquished the hope of proving the
verity of my statements. At one time I
expected to establish the truth, having
heard that one Zedekiah Murch had
known a Yankee peddler who had gone
over the mountains of Santa Cruz and
never was heard of more. But Zedekiah's memory was feeble, and he only
knew that such a story prevailed long
ago; so that clue was soon lost again,
and the little fire of enthusiasm which
it kindled among a few persons died
out. I have not yet lost all hope; and
when I think of the regretful conviction
that will force itself upon the mind of
good Father Ignacio, that we were, after
all, imposters, I cannot bear to reflect
that I may die and visit the lost town of
San Ildefonso no more.
I 868.]
579