In the valley was the Mission of San Gabriel, established many years before this time by the Spanish padres in their labours among the Indians of that region. Already the fruits of their devoted work were to be seen. In the valley there were many fields of waving grain and great orchards whose trees were bending under the loads of fruit which hung from their branches. In certain parts of the valley there were large herds of cattle, and many flocks of sheep were to be seen, almost as numerous as the cattle. The sight of all these good things instantly revived the drooping spirits of the trappers. It is true they had little to offer in exchange, but the people of the mission and the Indians of the vicinity were kind to the newcomers, and in a brief time the wants of the nearly famished men were all supplied. Perhaps some of them rejoiced more over the fact that water and food for their horses abounded than they did over the reports that were given them of the multitudes of beaver that were to be found in the nearby streams. To Reuben the region seemed to be a land of plenty. The Indians were peaceful and apparently happy, and the few white men that were to be seen in the vicinity were prosperous and contented. After the men had been thoroughly rested, Kit Carson explained to Reuben that the time had come for them to enter upon the work which had been their object in seeking the marvellous valley. “We’ll go down the San Joaquin River,” he explained. “We shan’t have any trouble in getting the skins we want, and at the same time we’ll find game enough to supply all our needs. All you have to do,” he added, with a laugh, “is to look at the men. A little while ago they were half-starved and as lean as bullrushes. Just look at them now! Almost every one is getting so fat he won’t be able to do his trapping.” “Yes,” laughed Reuben. “They all look as if they would rather stay here than go on any farther.” “That’s just what they must do, though,” said Kit. “I have seen a good many men in my life who did all right until they came to the last thing that had to be done and then they gave out. I believe there are more men that lose because they don’t follow up to the very end what they have begun than from any other one thing. Who’s this coming?” he added abruptly as he turned and saw a stranger approaching on horseback. At first the approaching man was thought to be a priest, as he was dressed in a strange garb that somewhat resembled that worn by the priests in charge of the mission. As he came nearer, however, they discovered that he was not a priest, and when he spoke, his words confirmed Kit Carson in his conclusion. “I am looking for a man named Kit Carson,” explained the newcomer. “You won’t have to look very far,” replied the guide quietly. “Where is he?” “Not very far away.” “Tell me where he is and I will go to him.” “I reckon I am the man you’re looking for.”