spell of the April morning was broken, although
the learned doctor was not to be the only offender.

The Golden Gate is but a mile in width and the
swift current carried the Juno toward a low prom-
ontory from the base of which a shrill cry suddenly
ascended. Rezanov, raising his glass, saw that what
he had taken to be a pile of fallen rocks was a fort,
and that a group of excited men stood at its gates.
Once more the plenipotentiary on a delicate mission,
he ordered the two naval officers sailing the ship
to come forward, and retired to the dignified isola-
tion of the cabin.

The high-spirited young officers, who would have
raised a gay hurrah at the sight of civilized man
had it not been for the awe in which they held
their chief, saluted the Spaniards formally, then
stood in an attitude of extreme respect; the Juno
was directly under the guns of the fort.

One of the Spaniards raised a speaking trumpet
and shouted:

"Who are you?"

No one on the Juno, save Rezanov, could speak a
word of Spanish, but the tone of the query was its
own interpreter. The oldest of the lieutenants,
through the ship's trumpet, shouted back: