yonder long projection we will call the Cabo de Pinos." That bay is now
called Monterey, but the cape still bears the name given it by this
first explorer.

Anchoring in forty-five fathoms of water, they tried to go on shore, in
order to take possession of the land, but the sea was so rough that they
could not launch their boats. The next day they discovered and named
some mountains which they called Sierra Nevada, and, sailing on, went as
far north as about 401. But this winter voyage was made at a great
sacrifice. The exposure and hardships, following the wound he had
received, were too much for even the hardy sailor Juan Rodriguez
Cabrillo. After weeks of struggle with storms, the ships were forced
back to their old shelter at San Miguel. Here Christmas week was spent,
but a sad holiday it was to the explorers, for their brave leader lay
dying. Nobly had he done his duty up to the last.

"Juan," he said, to his young attendant, on Christmas Eve, "how gladly
the bells will be ringing in Lisbon to-night. I seem to hear them now.
They drive out all other sounds. Call Ferrelo and let no one else come
but the padre." Very soon Juan returned with Cabrillo's first assistant,
the pilot, Ferrelo, a brave navigator and a just man.

"Ferrelo," said Cabrillo, faintly, "Death calls me, and the duty I lay
down you must take up. I command you to push the expedition northward at
all hazards, and to keep such records as are necessary in order that
fitting account of our voyage shall be given to the world. Will you
promise me to do this?"

"I will, my master," said Ferrelo, simply. "To the best of my ability
will I take up your work."