doc241 - Schoenherr Home Page in Sunny Chula Vista

and received an arrow in the hand at the moment when the boy staggered in and fell
dead at Serra's feet. The four soldiers gave the Indians a volley of musket-balls and the
blacksmith fought like a demon. The Indians ran away, notwithstanding their superior
numbers, but they had the assurance to return soon and request medical aid for their
wounded.
The Indians had made the acquaintance of gunpowder and it did them good, for
they behaved much better after that adventure. Nevertheless, the good Fathers had the
wisdom to erect a stockade around the Mission and to make a rule forbidding the savages
to come inside without first depositing their weapons. The Indians continued very
neighborly, yet none embraced the faith. This does not seem remarkable in view of the
fact that the missionaries could not converse with them intelligibly, having to rely wholly
upon sign language at first. Even when one of their men had mastered the savage
tongue sufficiently to act as interpreter, they were still unable to enroll a single neophyte.
So far as known, this was absolutely the most discouraging experience the missionaries
had ever had, for nearly a year had passed without one conversion. But that was not the
worst of it. Converts could wait but mouths must be fed. The supplies were dwindling
while sickness increased.
Those were gloomy days on Presidio Hill-the Summer and Fall of 1769-in spite of
the smiling sky and genial atmosphere. No converts, no progress toward cultivating the
soil, no white sails on the horizon to tell of returning ships from Mexico-nothing but sickness
and death and the chill portent of coming disaster. Of the forty whom Portolá had
left when he marched away, nineteen died before he returned, and the survivors were
heartsick with the sad work of laying them in their graves. Of those who died, eight were
soldiers, four sailors, six Indians, and one a servant. No wonder the savages wanted
none of their food!
On January 24, 1770, the disheartened party of twenty souls living within the
stockade on Presidio Hill was startled by a discharge of musketry. It was Portolá and his
men, returning from their futile search for Monterey. But they brought small comfort for
Father Serra. Portolá had accomplished nothing in the North; he could not see that
Serra had accomplished anything in the South, and he declared that San Diego ought to
be abandoned while there were yet supplies enough to enable the party to get back to
civilization. Poor Junípero Serra was heart-broken at the decision. He was not a soldier
of the flag, seeking to win territory for his King, but a soldier of the Cross, seeking to win
souls for his God. He could not abandon the gentiles of California to the fate of the heathen,
Page 53
and while he acknowledged the worldly wisdom of Portolá's advice, there is every reason
to believe that his own private decision was to stay at every cost and, if need be, to
offer his life as a sacrifice on the altar of the Mission of San Diego. For Portolá spoke
from without, and Junípero Serra only obeyed the Voice Within.
Nevertheless, preparations were made for the abandonment, and March 19th
was fixed as the day for the formal ending of the work which had been so auspiciously
begun in the previous July. But one thing could save San Diego now-not only San Diego,
but California as well, for Galvez had planned the conquest of the whole coast.
This one thing was the timely return of the San Antonio which had been so long awaited
in vain that no one now expected it-no one, save the immortal priest. He went up to the