El Camino Real 



20 1 



of the meadow-lark comes with ringing notes from 

 every mesa; among the eucalyptus leaves, long and 

 fragrant, the golden oriole is singing, and in the live-oak 

 grove are heard the tender notes of the mourning dove. 

 The sun has a golden radiance, the sky is azure, but 

 not more blue than the distant sea that gleams brightly 

 somewhere far down the cafton, where wild geese dot 

 the laguna, and sand-hill cranes stand like sentinels 

 along the tall sea grasses. 



We pass the San Luis Rey River, Fallbrook, and 

 finally the coach rolls into San Luis Rey de Francia, 

 and is again on the King's Highway, as in all proba- 

 bility it once ran up and down the coast, having made 

 the inland tour as described. San Luis Rey, while a 

 ruin, is a sumptuous pile, and originally was one of the 

 finest Missions in Southern California. It was dedi- 

 cated in 1 798 by President Lasuen and Padres Santiago 

 and Peyri. Contemplating the ruin to-day, it is difficult 

 to believe that the Mission once owned 200,000 acres of 

 land, over 40,000 head of cattle, and raised yearly 

 20,000 bushels of grain, not to mention the making of 

 200 barrels of wine. 



San Luis Rey was a principality in every sense, and the 

 traveller along the King's Highway years ago received 

 a gracious hospitality from the padres, who blazed the 

 trail of civilisation from Mexico to San Francisco, and 

 beyond, establishing a chain of Missions that are monu- 

 ments to their energy and purity of purpose. The 

 splendid pile was one hundred and fifty feet long, fifty 



