the most beautiful water I have ever seen, Majella. The two high
lands come out like two arms to hold it and keep it safe, as if they
loved it."

"But, Alessandro," continued Ramona, "were there really bad men at the
other Missions? Surely not the Franciscan Fathers?"

"Perhaps not the Fathers themselves, but the men under them. It was
too much power, Majella. When my father has told me how it was, it has
seemed to me I should not have liked to be as he was. It is not right
that one man should have so much power. There was one at the San Gabriel
Mission; he was an Indian. He had been set over the rest; and when a
whole band of them ran away one time, and went back into the mountains,
he went after them; and he brought back a piece of each man's ear; the
pieces were strung on a string; and he laughed, and said that was to
know them by again,--by their clipped ears. An old woman, a Gabrieleno,
who came over to Temecula, told me she saw that. She lived at the
Mission herself. The Indians did not all want to come to the Missions;
some of them preferred to stay in the woods, and live as they always
had lived; and I think they had a right to do that if they preferred,
Majella. It was stupid of them to stay and be like beasts, and not know
anything; but do you not think they had the right?"

"It is the command to preach the gospel to every creature," replied the
pious Ramona. "That is what Father Salvierderra said was the reason
the Franciscans came here. I think they ought to have made the Indians
listen. But that was dreadful about the ears, Alessandro. Do you believe
it?"

"The old woman laughed when she told it," he answered. "She said it was
a joke; so I think it was true. I know I would have killed the man who
tried to crop my ears that way."

"Did you ever tell that to Father Salvierderra?" asked Ramona.

"No, Majella. It would not be polite," said Alessandro.

"Well, I don't believe it," replied Ramona, in a relieved tone. "I don't
believe any Franciscan ever could have permitted such things."

The great red light in the light-house tower had again blazed out,
and had been some time burning before Alessandro thought it prudent to
resume their journey. The road on which they must go into old San Diego,
where Father Gaspara lived, was the public road from San Diego to San
Luis Rey, and they were almost sure to meet travellers on it.

But their fleet horses bore them so well, that it was not late when they
reach