"I don't see a laguna!" Again the skeptic surveyed the field of roofs.
"Put down your glasses and close your eyes," I commanded. "When you open them the houses from here to the bay will have disappeared and the ground will be covered with a carpet of velvety green, dappled here and there by groves of oak trees and relieved by patches of bright poppies."
"And fields of yellow mustard," he supplemented.
"No, your imagination is too vivid. The padres brought the mustard seed later. A little south of the present mission," I continued, "you will see a group of willows bending to drink the crystal waters of the Arroyo de los Dolores, so named because Anza and his followers discovered it on the day of our Mother of Sorrows, and to the east is the shining laguna."
"It's clear as a San Francisco fog," he laughed. "I'd like to take a look at the old building! Is there a car line?"
"Let's follow in the footsteps of the padres," I begged. "They used often to climb this hill and it isn't very far."
He looked dubiously down the rugged side and mentally measured the distance from the base to the low tiled roof.
"All right," he said at last, "if you'll let me take a ten minutes nap before we start." He stretched himself at full length on the soft grass and pulled his hat low over his eyes.
I was glad to be quiet for a time and let my imagination have full sweep. I seemed to see, toiling up the peninsula, a little band of foot-sore travelers, the leathern-clad soldiers on the alert for hostile Indians, the brown-robed friars encouraging the women and children, and the sturdy colonists bringing up the rear with their flocks and herds. At last the little company come to a sparkling rivulet and stoop to drink eagerly of the cool water. The commander examines his chart and nods to the tonsured priest who falls on his knees and raises his voice in thanksgiving. Stretching out his arms in blessing to his flock, he exclaims: "Rest now, my children. Our journey is at an end. Here on the Arroyo de Nuestra Señora de los Dolores, we will establish the mission to our Father San Francisco de Asis."
"If we want to see the old building before lunch time, we shall have to be moving," said a sleepy voice at my elbow.