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DAWN AND THE DONS 126 give green pastures for the cattle and sheep that would come, or make fields and fruitful orchards, where neophytes might labor till the Angelus called. And narrow, gurgling streams gave their waters for irrigation. In sentinel groups along the peninsula’s seaward shore stood the Monterey cypress, elsewhere unknown, whose weird and fantastic forms fascinated and charmed, and whose origin is a botanical mystery. Above, on the forested heights, the beautiful Monterey pine, itself peculiar to the peninsula, held queenly sway, attended by the wild and purpled lilac, the picturesque and colorful manzanita, the sedate buckeye, and other arboreal courtiers; while in the cloistered ravines, miniature for-

ests of bewildering and fascinating ferns paid silent tribute to their woodland queen. Lights and shades, and the varying tints of sunlight cast a spell by day that was transformed into a mystical charm when moonbeams danced across this playground of the fairies; while the scent of resinous saps, the pungent odor of the moss, and the faint and subtle perfume of wild flowers mingled their aromas with the salt tang of the sea. But beautiful as was the setting designed and prepared by nature;

romantic

as were

the adventures

of those daring and intrepid explorers who found—and lost— and found again—this ocean bay; and fascinating as are the tales of the padres, it was the people who lived there, those courtly scions of lordly Spain, that gave the

final touch of charm and color to Spanish Monterey. And what a picture it was! Here were gathered the