looking from Chonita to Castro with a smile of good-natured irony
said,--

"Doña Chonita is of your opinion, coronel, that California was the
direct gift of heaven to the Spaniards, and that the Americans cannot
have us."

Castro raised his glass to the _comadre_. "Doña Chonita has the loyal
bosom of all Californian women. Our men love better the olive of peace
than the flavor of discord; but did the bandoleros dare to approach
our peaceful shores with dastardly intent to rob, then, thanks be
to God, I know that every man among them would fight for this virgin
land. Thou, too, Diego, thou wouldst unsheathe thy sword, in spite of
thy pretended admiration of the Americans."

Estenega raised his shoulders. "Possibly. But in American occupation
lies the hope of California. What have we done with it in our
seventy years of possession? Built a few missions, which are rotting,
terrorized or cajoled few thousand worthless Indians into civilized
imbecility, and raised a respectable number of horses and cattle. Our
hide and tallow trade is only good; the Russians have monopolized the
fur trade; we continue to raise cattle and horses because it would be
an exertion to suppress them; and meanwhile we dawdle away our lives
very pleasurably, whilst a magnificent territory, filled with gold and
richer still in soil, lies idle beneath our feet. Nature never works
without a plan. She compounded a wonderful country, and she created a
wonderful people to develop it. She has allowed us to drone on it
for a little time, but it was not made for us; and I am sufficiently
interested in California to wish to see her rise from her sleep and
feel and live in every part of her." He turned suddenly to Chonita.