been held at Monterey, until a "hide drogher" comes into the port.
Alvarado permits her to anchor under the guns of the hill battery.
He then seizes the ship for his use.

Captain Peralta is given the honor of casting out these Ishmaels
of fortune. He views calmly their exit. It is a land which welcomes
not the "Gringo." The ship-master receives a draft on Acapulco
for his impressed service. These pioneer argonauts are warned (on
pain of death) not to return. It is a day of "fiesta" in Monterey.
"Vive Alvarado!" is the toast.

So, when Captain Miguel dashes into the Plaza, surrounded with his
dare-devil retainers, reporting that the vessel is off shore, the
rejoicing is unbounded.

Cannons roar: the yells of the green jacket and yellow scrape brigade
rise on the silent reaches of the Punta de los Pinos. A procession
winds up to the Carmel Mission. Governor Alvarado, his staff, the
leading citizens, the highest families, and the sefioritas attend
a mass of thanksgiving. Attired in light muslins, with here and there
a bright-colored shawl giving a fleck of color, and silk kerchiefs
--fleecy--the ladies' only other ornaments are the native flowers
which glitter on the slopes of Monterey Bay. Bevies of dark-eyed
girls steal glances at Andres, Ramon, or Jose, while music lends a
hallowing charm to the holy father's voice as he bends before the
decorated altar. Crowds of mission Indians fill the picturesque
church. Every heart is proud. Below their feet sleeps serenely
good Fray "Junipero Serra." He blessed this spot in 1770;--a man of
peace, he hung the bells on the green oaks in a peaceful wilderness.
High in air, to-day they joyously peal out a "Laus Deo." When the