Junipero Serra was overjoyed at the unexpected discovery of the Harbor
of San Francisco, which Portola and his companions so enthusiastically
extolled, and was not discouraged over their failure to find the Port
of Monterey, but hoped to make another trial to find that Port on which
their most laudable ambitions were centered. But here a sad difficulty
presented itself. Governor Portola returned to San Diego with sad gaps
made into his ranks by sickness and hardship, but hopeful with the
expectation that the relief ship promised by Don Jose Galvez had
arrived, and that the San Diego Mission well established would be able
to give his forces a well deserved chance to recuperate. But what was
his dismay? The relief ship had not arrived, and Junipero Serra had
indeed founded a mission with the usual elaborate ceremonies of the
Church, but the untiring zeal and labors of himself and his companions
had not been blessed with a single convert. No neophyte could be counted
among the numerous natives of the place, who had even proved hostile at
times; and the mission too, was in the sorest need; Junipero Serra and
his companions ofttimes adding to their usual fasts and abstemiousness,
"that others might have more." Still the relief ship was delayed! Surely
this was not the fault of good Don Jose Galvez, but it might have met
a tragic fate; thus thought the discouraged land and sea forces; and
Governor Portola was too good a soldier not to know that the best course
to follow was to start at once back to Mexico and abandon the glorious
dream, before starvation and death overtook everyone of them. But here
Junipero Serra interposed, and as if inspired pleaded with the Governor
for "one more day;" Portola out of respect did grant just "one more day"
before ordering the whole expedition back.

Junipero Serra then repaired to the summit of the Presidio Hill and
with arms extended, prayed as if in ecstasy from sunrise until sunset,
"storming the heavens" that the relief ship might come, and the
conversion of the heathen of California be realized. O unquestionable
miracle! "More things are wrought by prayer, than this world ever
dreamed of!" As the last rays of sun kissed his venerable brow, from out
the gold and purple horizon, he sighted the top-most point of a mast,
which while he was still "pouring his soul" no longer in supplication
but in thanksgiving, grew into the unmistakable figure of the long
expected ship. But for that "one m