The Little Lady of Lagunitas | Page 5

locate a new ten-league-square grant
of lands, given him for past services to the State.
Graciously the Governor accorded the request. Noblesse oblige! "Don
Miguel, is there any reason for leaving us besides your new rancho?"
said Alvarado. The Captain's cheek reddened a little. "Senor
Gobernador, I have served the State long," said he. "Juanita Castro
waits for me at San Francisco. I will lay off my rancho on the San
Joaquin. I move there in the spring."
Alvarado was delighted. The health of Senorita Juanita Castro was
honored by the whole table. They drank an extra bumper for gallant
Don Miguel, the bridegroom.
The Governor was pleased. Powerful Castros and Peraltas stretched
from the Salinas, by San Jose and Santa Clara, to Martinez; and San
Rafael as well as Sonoma. By this clan, both Sutter's Fort and the
Russians could be watched.
This suitable marriage would bring a thousand daring horsemen to
serve under the cool leadership of Don Miguel in case of war.

Peralta told the Governor he would explore the San Joaquin. He wished
to locate his ranch where he could have timber, wood, water, game, and
mountain air.
Don Miguel did not inform the chief of the state that in riding from San
Diego to Cape Mendocino he had found one particular garden of
Paradise. He had marked this for his home when his sword would be
sheathed in honor.
"I will say, your Excellency," said the Captain, "I fear for the future.
The Yankees are growing in power and are grasping. They have robbed
us of lovely Texas. Now, it is still a long way for their ships to come
around dreary Cape Horn. We had till late years only two vessels from
Boston; I saw their sails shining in the bay of San Francisco when I was
five years old. I have looked in the Presidio records for the names. The
Alexander and the Aser, August 1st, 1803. Then, they begged only for
wood and water and a little provision. Now, their hide-traders swarm
along our coast. They will by and by come with their huge war-ships.
These trading-boats have no cannon, but they are full of bad rum. Our
coast people will be cleared out. Why, Catalina Islands," continued the
Captain, "were peopled once densely. There are yet old native temples
there. All these coast tribes have perished. It is even worse since the
holy fathers were robbed of their possessions."
The good soldier crossed himself in memory of the wise padres. They
owned the thousands of cattle, sheep, and horses once thronging the
oat-covered hills. Theirs were the fruits, grains, and comforts of these
smiling valleys, untrodden yet by a foreign foe.
"Your Excellency, when the Yankee war-ships have come, we cannot
resist them. Our batteries are old and poor, we have little ammunition.
Our arms are out of repair. The machete and lasso are no match for
their well-supplied men-of-war. I shall locate myself so far in the
interior that the accursed Gringos cannot reach me with their ships or
their boats. The trappers who straggle over the deserts from Texas our
horsemen will lasso. They will bring them in bound as prisoners."
"Miguel, mi compadre," said the Governor, "do you think they can

cross the deserts?" He was startled by Peralta's views of the future.
"Senor," said the Captain, "I saw the first American who came overland.
The wanderer appeared in 1826. It was the 20th of December. He was
found half starved by our vaqueros. I have his name here on a piece of
paper. I have long carried it, for I was a guard over him."
Miguel slowly spelled off the detested Yankee name, Jedediah S. Smith,
from a slip of cartridge paper in his bolsa. Glory be to the name of
Smith!
"Where THAT one Yankee found a way, more will come, but we will
meet and fight them. This is our OWN land by the right of discovery.
The good King Philip II. of Spain rightfully claimed this (from his
orders to Viceroy Monterey in 1596). We get our town name here in his
honor. We will fight the English, and these accursed Yankees. They
have no right to be here. This is our home," cried fiery Miguel, as he
pledged the hospitable Governor. He passed out into the dreaming,
starry night. As he listened to the waves softly breaking on the sandy
beach, he thought fondly of Juanita Castro. He fumbled over the
countersign as the sentinel presented his old flint-lock musket.
Both Governor and Captain sought the repose of their Spartan pillows.
The Captain forgot, in his zeal for Spanish dominion, that daring Sir
Francis Drake, in days even then out of the memory of man, piloted the
"Golden Hind" into Drake's Bay. He landed near