"Come! Come! Come! Come, Come!" echoed the hills.
Pigeons, denizens of the church tower, flew in, and out, and around, the whirring of their wings sounding above the resonance of the bells, in the intervals of their summoning notes. Flocks darted into the air, circled for a moment, then disappeared, as if bearing away urgent messages. Others dropped from emptiness, clung to the gargoyles on the belfry corners, and, in low cooings, told some story.
"We are coming! coming! coming!" came in refrain from many footbeats. Men and women from throughout the entire province were gathering on the eastern slope of Santa Clara Valley that bright spring morning.
The Vallejos, of the North, came; their ladies were there, and their sons and their daughters, personifications of the intellect, the valor, the virtue and the beauty which glorified the valley of the Moon. Gold and silver bespangled their horses' bridles, hung as pendants from the bridlereins, inlaid the stirrups, and gilded the saddles from high pommel in the front to long anquera reaching back to crupper.
Gold lace adorned the hatbands and decorated the ponchos of the men, while gold spurs clicked at their heels. Silk and satin embellished señoritas beautiful and señoras handsome. Peons and peonas, jigging after their masters on horses clean-limbed and swift, were bravely attired as for a fiesta.
The Picos rode in from the South, with retinue as splendid as that of their Sonoma rivals, their Gallic heritage showing in the harmony and luxuriousness of color in poncho and gowning.
José Antonio Carillo escorted representatives of his family along the Camino Real, through San José pueblo, on to San José Mission, four leagues away toward the setting sun.
The Bandinis followed the de la Guerras. The Auguellos and the Malarins paced side by side. The busy bee of politics buzzed in vain in the cap of Juan de Bautista Alvarado, for the active brain beneath was under the spell of superior attraction in Mission San José, and the man hastened thither faster than if the governor's chair awaited him there.
Señor Castro, the steadfast, flanked his friend Señor Alvarado, and looked about complacently, contentment complete, since his equipment equaled any present.
The "Bostons," allied to the Spanish families, were there, as Latin in dress and manner as the Spaniards themselves.