carry them, followed by a long procession of dusky reapers, up the
ascent to the church. As they approach, the bells burst out in a joyous
peal, and from the mission doors the padres come forth, one bearing a
cross, another the banner of the Virgin. A choir of Indian boys follows,
chanting a hymn. All advance slowly down the avenue to meet the sheaf
bearers, then counter march to the church, where the harvest festival is
celebrated.

Passing by other missions, we must close our journey with a visit to San
Carlos, the Monterey mission, most prominent of all in the history of
the church and state. It was from the first the special charge of Padre
Junipero Serra, and, at the time we see it, his monument as well; for in
it at last his weary body was laid to rest beside his friend Padre Juan
Crespi, to whose writings, next to those of Padre Francisco Palou, we
are most indebted for our knowledge of Junipero Serra and his great
work. In 1813, with its graceful arched front and two towers, San Carlos
was a noble-looking building, but since that time one tower has fallen.

We are reminded, as we look, of the scene when Junipero lay dying. Ever
since morning the grief-stricken people had been waiting, listening for
the news from the sick room. When the tolling of the bell announced that
the beautiful life was ended, crowds came weeping and lamenting, anxious
to see again the beloved face.

It was with great difficulty that the Indians could be kept from tearing
the padre's robe from his body, so earnestly did they desire to possess
some relic of the father they had loved so long.

Here we notice the daily life of the Indian, which (in 1813) is the same
at all the missions. At sunrise comes the sound of the bells calling to