We now have introduced the land and the people: the mountains, deserts, and prairies; the Indians, trappers, and settlers. This is the cast of characters, so to speak, who played out the drama of winning the West. The next group of selections will illustrate the ways by which the land was tamed and the wilderness brought under the yoke of civilization. We will visit California by ship, travel with the covered wagons, starve with the Donner party in the Sierras, and ride the Overland Stage with Mark Twain. Finally we will look at the building of the railroad, the event that spelled the end of the Old West. The coast of California was first explored by Juan Cabrillo in 1542, but it was not until the time of the American Revolution that the Spanish established effective political control as far north as San Francisco. Then, for the next three quarters of a century, until the Mexican War, Spanish culture flourished. By the time California was annexed to the United States, a great deal of commerce was being carried on between eastern United States ports and the West Coast, and when the gold rush took place thousands of fortune seekers came to California via sea. Richard Henry Dana, Jr., Visits the Coast of California One of the best descriptions of California before it became part of the United States was written by a young Bostonian, Richard Henry Dana, Jr. This young man suffered eye trouble during his sophomore year at Harvard and sailed for California in 1834 as a common sailor. After working 15 months on the California coast gathering hides, the cargo that American ships carried home in exchange for manufactured products, he returned to Harvard and completed his education. His book, _Two Years Before the Mast_, from which the next selection is taken, is a splendid adventure story. Just before sun-down the mate ordered a boat’s crew ashore, and I went as one of the number. We passed under the stern of the English brig, and had a long pull ashore. I shall never forget the impression which our first landing on the beach of California made upon me. The sun had just gone down; it was getting dusky; the damp night wind was beginning to blow, and the heavy swell of the Pacific was setting in, and breaking in loud and high “combers” upon the beach. We lay on our oars in the swell, just outside of the surf, waiting for a good chance to run in, when a boat, which had put off from the _Ayacucho_ just after us, came alongside of us, with a crew of dusky Sandwich Islanders, talking and hallooing in their outlandish tongue. [_This landing took place at Santa Barbara._]