husbandry - the fields of wheat and corn were only half cultivated; the
livestock in the corrals looked poor and thin; while as for the
vineyards - ! Father Zalvidea sighed deeply. as he gazed at what were
the merest apology for vineyards, judging from his high standard, and
compared them mentally with those cared for so lovingly at Mission San
Gabriel. He saw, at a glance, just what was needed, and set about
bringing them up to a point somewhat approaching his ideal.

But before giving his attention to these mundane things, Father
Zalvidea had to do much for the spiritual side of the mission and its
people; for it was in a more deplorable state in this respect than in
that of material welfare. Fourteen years before, Mission San Juan
Capistrano had had the finest church in Nueva California, the pride of
the whole country. Father Zalvidea had been present at its dedication,
the occasion of great ceremony amidst a vast throng of neophytes, and
all the Spanish dignitaries that could be gathered together. But the
mission had enjoyed its beautiful church only a few years when it
suffered a most awful calamity. One Sunday morning, when the church was
crowded with Indians at mass, there was heard in the hush of prayer, a
distant noise, like the sound of a great rush of stormwind, which, a
moment later, reached the mission, and with the rocking of the earth and
the rending of walls, the tower of the new church fell on the people
below, shrieking as they fled. Forty were killed on the spot, as well as
many wounded. This catastrophe was by far the worst ever visited on the
missions, and it was long before San Juan Capistrano recovered from the
blow - never, in fact, so far as the church was concerned, for it was
too badly injured to be repaired, and the fathers could not summon up
energy enough to build another. Since that dire Sabbath, a room in the
adjoining building had been used as a church. Father Zalvidea's greatest
desire, next to seeing the vineyards brought up to their proper