[Illustration: "'IT WAS ONLY THE PEARLS YOU WANTED.'"] THE SPLENDID IDLE FORTIES _STORIES OF OLD CALIFORNIA_ BY GERTRUDE ATHERTON AUTHOR OF "THE CONQUEROR," "SENATOR NORTH" "THE ARISTOCRATS," ETC. _WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY HARRISON FISHER_ 1902 TO THE BOHEMIAN CLUB OF SAN FRANCISCO AS A SLIGHT ACKNOWLEDGMENT OF ITS COURTESY IN PLACING ITS FINE LIBRARY OF CALIFORNIAN LITERATURE AT MY DISPOSAL NOTE This is a revised and enlarged edition of the volume which was issued some years ago under the title, "Before the Gringo Came." CONTENTS THE PEARLS OF LORETO THE EARS OF TWENTY AMERICANS THE WASH-TUB MAIL THE CONQUEST OF DOÑA JACOBA A RAMBLE WITH EULOGIA THE ISLE OF SKULLS THE HEAD OF A PRIEST LA PÉRDIDA LUKARI'S STORY NATALIE IVANHOFF: A MEMORY OF FORT ROSS THE VENGEANCE OF PADRE ARROYO THE BELLS OF SAN GABRIEL WHEN THE DEVIL WAS WELL THE PEARLS OF LORETO I Within memory of the most gnarled and coffee-coloured Montereño never had there been so exciting a race day. All essential conditions seemed to have held counsel and agreed to combine. Not a wreath of fog floated across the bay to dim the sparkling air. Every horse, every vaquero, was alert and physically perfect. The rains were over; the dust was not gathered. Pio Pico, Governor of the Californias, was in Monterey on one of his brief infrequent visits. Clad in black velvet, covered with jewels and ropes of gold, he sat on his big chestnut horse at the upper end of the field, with General Castro, Doña Modeste Castro, and other prominent Montereños, his interest so keen that more than once the official dignity relaxed, and he shouted "Brava!" with the rest. And what a brilliant sight it was! The flowers had faded on the hills, for June was upon them; but gayer than the hills had been was the race-field of Monterey. Caballeros, with silver on their wide gray hats and on their saddles of embossed leather, gold and silver embroidery on their velvet serapes, crimson sashes about their slender waists, silver spurs and buckskin botas, stood tensely in their stirrups as the racers flew by, or, during the short intervals, pressed each other with eager wagers. There was little money in that time. The golden skeleton within the sleeping body of California had not yet been laid bare. But ranchos were lost and won; thousands of cattle would pass to other hands at the next rodeo; many a superbly caparisoned steed would rear and plunge between the spurs of a new master.