spurs. The commanding officer alone had invested
himself with a gala serape, a square of red cloth
with a bound and embroidered slit for the head.
Leading the rapid procession, his left hand resting
significantly on his sword, he was a fine specimen
of the young California grandee, dark and dashing
and reckless, lithe of figure, thoroughbred, ardent.
His eyes were sparkling at the prospect of excite-
ment; not only had the Russians, by their nefarious
appropriation of the northwestern corner of the
continent and a recent piratical excursion in pursuit
of otter, inspired the Spanish Government with a
profound disapproval and mistrust, but a rumor
had run up the coast that made every sea-gull look
like the herald of a hostile fleet. This was young
Arguello's first taste of command, and life was dull
on the northern peninsula; he would have wel-
comed a declaration of war.

Davidov and Langsdorff had come to shore in
one of the JUNO'S canoes. The conversation was
held in Latin between the two men of learning.

"Who are you and whence come you?" asked the
priest.

Langsdorff, who had been severely drilled by the
plenipotentiary as to text, replied with a profound
bow: "We are Russians engaged in completing the
circumnavigation of the globe. It was our inten-