The elder woman hesitated, glanced inquiringly at Nathan Spear who stood beside them. He nodded. "The ladies will be pleased," he answered in their stead. Another cheer met this announcement. CHAPTER IV AMERICAN OCCUPATION Yerba Buena awoke to the sunrise of July 8, 1846, with a spirit of festive anticipation and a certain relief. Today the American sloop-of-war would land its sailors and marines to take possession of the port. Today the last remaining vestige of the Latin's dominance would end. A strange flag, curiously gay with stripes and stars, would fly above the customs house; strange men in uniforms of blue, and golden braid, would occupy the seats of power. Even the name of Yerba Buena would be altered, it was said. New Boston probably would be its title. Early morning brought ox-carts laden with gay, curious Spanish ladies from surrounding ranches, piquant eager senoritas with vivacious gestures of small hands and fluttering fans; senoras plump and placid, slower in their movements and with brooding eyes. They wore their laciest mantillas, silkiest gowns and daintiest footwear to impress the alien invader. And, beside their equipages, like outriders in the cortege of a queen, caballeros and vaqueros sat their caracoling steeds. Sailors from the trade and whaling ships, trappers, hunters and the motley populace of Yerba Buena made a colorful and strangely varied picture, as they gathered with the rancheros about the Plaza. At 8 o'clock four boats descended simultaneously from the Portsmouth's sides. They were greeted by loud cheers from the Americans on shore and watched with excited interest by the others. The boats landed their crews near the spring where a sort of wharf had been constructed. They returned for more and finally assembled seventy marines, a smaller number of sailors and the ship's band. Captain Montgomery, in the full dress uniform of a naval commander, reviewed his forces. Beside him stood Lieutenant John S. Misroon, large, correct and rather awkward, with long, restless arms; a youthful, rosy complexion and serious blue eyes. Further back, assembling his marines in marching order, was Lieutenant Henry Watson, a smaller man of extraordinary nervous energy. Montgomery gave the marching order. Fife and drum struck up a lively air and to its strains the feet of Yerba Buena's first invading army kept uncertain step as sailors and marines toiled through the sand. Half a thousand feet above them stood the quaint adobe customs house, its red-tiled roof and drab adobe walls contrasting pleasantly with the surrounding greenery of terraced hills. Below it lay the Plaza with its flagpole, its hitching racks for horses and oxen. Here the commander halted his men. "Lieutenant Watson," he addressed the senior subaltern, "be so good as to request attendance by the prefect or alcalde.... And for heaven's sake, fasten your coat, sir," he added in a whispered aside.