himself to be restrained by a cold-blooded, official-minded soldier, to whom routine was more important than the salvation of the Indians.  Serra complained that Fages opened his letters and those of his fellow missionaries; that he supported his soldiers when their evil conduct rendered the work of the missionaries unavailing; that he interfered with the management of the stations and the punishment of neophytes, and devoted to his own uses the property and facilities of the Missions.

In the main, this complaint received attention from the Junta in Mexico.  Fages was ultimately removed, and Rivera appointed governor in his place.  More missionaries, money, and supplies were placed at Serra’s disposal, and he was authorized to proceed to the establishment of the additional Missions which he had planned.  He also obtained authority from the highest powers of the Church to administer the important sacrament of confirmation.  This is a right generally conferred only upon a bishop and his superiors, but as California was so remote and the visits of the bishop so rare, it was deemed appropriate to grant this privilege to Serra.

Rejoicing and grateful, the earnest president sent Padres Fermin Francisco de Lasuen and Gregorio Amurrio, with six soldiers, to begin work at San Juan Capistrano.  This occurred in August, 1775.  On the thirtieth of the following October, work was begun, and everything seemed auspicious, when suddenly, as if God had ceased to smile upon them, terrible news came from San Diego.  There, apparently, things had been going well.  Sixty converts were baptized on October 3, and the priests rejoiced at the success of their efforts.  But the Indians back in the mountains were alarmed and hostile.  Who were these white-faced strangers causing their brother aborigines to kneel before a strange God?  What was the meaning of that mystic ceremony of sprinkling with water?  The demon of priestly jealousy was awakened in the breasts of the tingaivashes—­the medicine-men—­of the tribes about San Diego, who arranged a fierce midnight attack which should rid them forever of these foreign conjurers, the men of the “bad medicine.”

Exactly a month and a day after the baptism of the sixty converts, at the dead of night, the Mission buildings were fired and the eleven persons of Spanish blood were awakened by flames and the yells of a horde of excited savages.  A fierce conflict ensued.  Arrows were fired on the one side, gun-shots on the other, while the flames roared in accompaniment and lighted the scene.  Both Indians and Spaniards fell.  The following morning, when hostilities had ceased and the enemy had withdrawn, the body of Padre Jayme was discovered in the dry bed of a neighboring creek, bruised from head to foot with blows from stones and clubs, naked, and bearing eighteen arrow-wounds.

The sad news was sent to Serra, and his words, at hearing it, show the invincible missionary spirit of the man:  “God be thanked!  Now the soil is watered; now will the reduction of the Dieguinos be complete!”