elude both domestic and foreign foes.

"Don Miguel," the padre begins, "in our records we have notes of
a Philippine galleon, the SAN AUGUSTIN, laden with the spoils of the
East. She was washed ashore in 1579, tempest tossed at the Golden
Gate. Viscaino found this wreck in 1602. Now I have studied much.
I feel that the Americans will gradually work west, overland,
and will rule us. Our brothers destroyed the missions. They would
have Christianized the patient Indians, teaching them industries.
Books tell me even the Apaches were peaceful till the Spanish
soldiers attacked them. Now from their hills they defy the whole
Mexican army." The good priest sighed. "Our work is ruined. I shall
lay my bones here, but I see the trade of the East following that
lonely wrecked galleon, and a young people growing up. The Dons
will go." Bestowing a blessing on his guest, the padre sought his
breviary. Priest and soldier slept in quiet. To-day the old padre's
vision is realized. The treasures of the East pour into the Golden
Gate. His simple heart would have been happy to know that thousands
of Catholics pause reverently at his tomb covered with the roses
of Santa Clara.






CHAPTER II.

AT THE PRESIDIO OF SAN FRANCISCO.---WEDDING CHIMES FROM THE MISSION
DOLORES.---LAGUNITAS RANCHO.