"And converted the land also; is it not so? It was a lovely site
for a mission," interpolated Garnier, politely.

"They built a mission and brought as many of Koorotora's people as
they could into the sacred fold. They brought them in in a queer
fashion sometimes, it is said; dragoons from the Presidio, Captain
Carroll, lassoing them and bringing them in at the tails of their
horses. All except Koorotora. He defied them; he cursed them and
his wife in his wicked heathenish fashion, and said that they too
should lose the mission through the treachery of some woman, and
that the coyote should yet prowl through the ruined walls of the
church. The holy Fathers pitied the wicked man--and built
themselves a lovely garden. Look at that pear-tree! There is all
that is left of it!"

She turned with a mock heroic gesture, and pointed her fan to the
pear-tree. Garnier lifted his hands in equally simulated wonder.
A sudden recollection of the coyote of the morning recurred to
Carroll uneasily. "And the Indians," he said, with an effort to
shake off the feeling; "they, too, have vanished."

"All that remained of them is in yonder mound. It is the grave of
the chief and his people. He never lived to see the fulfillment of
his prophecy. For it was a year after his death that our ancestor,
Manuel Guitierrez, came from old Spain to the Presidio with a grant
of twenty leagues to settle where he chose. Dona Maria Guitierrez
took a fancy to the canada. But it was a site already in
possession of the Holy Church. One night, through treachery, it
was said, the guards were withdrawn and the Indians entered the
mission, slaughtered the lay brethren, and drove away the priests.