uburbs of the town. For, the beacon towards which they steer is the
house of Don Gregorio Montijo.

CHAPTER TEN.

A PAIR OF SPANISH SENORITAS.

Don Gregorio Montijo is a Spaniard, who, some ten years previous to the
time of which we write, found his way into the Republic of Mexico,
afterwards moving on to "Alta California." Settling by San Francisco
Bay, he became a _ganadero_, or stock-farmer--the industry in those days
chiefly followed by Californians.

His grazing estate gives proof that he has prospered. Its territory
extends several miles along the water, and several leagues backward; its
boundary in that direction being the shore of the South Sea itself;
while a thousand head of horses, and ten times the number of horned
cattle, roam over its rich pastures.

His house stands upon the summit of a hill that rises above the bay--a
sort of spur projected from higher ground behind, and trending at right
angles to the beach, where it declines into a low-lying sand-spit.
Across this runs the shore-road, southward from the city to San Jose,
cutting the ridge midway between the walls of the house and the water's
edge, at some three hundred yards distance from each.

The dwelling, a massive quadrangular structure--in that Span-Moriscan
style of architecture imported into New Spain by the _Conquistadores_--
is but a single storey in height, having a flat, terraced roof, and
inner court: this last approached through a grand gate entrance,
centrally set in the front facade, with a double-winged door wide enough
to admit the coach of Sir Charles Grandison.

Around a Californian country-house there's rarely much in the way of
ornamental grounds--even though it be a _hacienda_ of the first-class.
And when the headquarters of a grazing estate, still less; its
inclosures consisting chiefly of "corrals" for the penning and branding
of cattle, these usually erected in the rear of the dwelling. To this
almost universal nakedness the grounds of Don Gregorio offer some
exception. He has added a stone fence, which, separating them from the
high road, is penetrated by a portalled entrance, with an avenue that
leads straight up to the house. This, strewn with snow-white
sea-shells, is flanked on each side by a row of _manzanita_ bushes--a
beautiful indigenous evergreen. Here and there a clump of California
bays, and some scattered peach-trees, betray an attempt, however slight,
at landscape gardening.

Taking into acco