Life was good, at Santa Fe. But no emigrant could dream too long in the comfortable shadow of the mission church above. There
was a hard journey ahead—and thousands of others pressing on behind.
The military guard had turned its mules out to graze; besides, it would
go no farther than Dona Ana on the Rio Grande. So, as soon as
practicable, the emigrants were on the trail again-southward down the
Rio Grande—past the mines of Placer Mountain in the Zandias (below) with their hint of the golden goal.