which made a sensational dash just at the wire and won in one minute and forty seconds. Each chariot had now won, each had had the pole, and the third race was the supreme test. The audience stood and screamed as the horses flew by. It was, as far as could be judged, neck and neck, but on the home stretch it was seen that West was ahead, that he was, in fact, looking around at the Carman team and apparently he had the race in hand. The speed was increasing, and in an excitement that has never had a counterpart in American history at any game or sport, West dashed under the wire, driving with one hand, every inch a Roman, every inch a winner. In the races of 1910, Mr. Revel English won by half a neck amid even greater excitement.

I

CHAPTER XVI

PALACES OF THE DESERT

FANCY it has been the experience of every angler to equip and start with the best of intentions for some fond stream of the memory, and then stray away into other fields totally foreign. I had for some years been accumulating information, alas, not merit, relating to the streams of Texas, and had purposed, with the aid and counsel of one of its devout anglers, Dr. Vilas of El Paso, to follow up some of its streams into the high mountains and investigate some of the big fish I had more than once seen in the Pecos. But in some way the fates interfered, and to-day, after three or four visits to the big State, an empire in its vastness, all I can tell about its angling at first hand is that of the little pass of Aransas where my name is pinned to the wall in the local Hall of Fame on several tarpon scales. I can still see those Maverick tarpon climbing into the air over my shoulder, and up among the constellations, and among my fond desires is to return to these happy hunting grounds along the great inland

ocean of Texas, where the wind blows in from the Gulf and the sand has piled up its marvellous bulwark against the sea.

In a previous chapter I have referred to the location of the missions of California, deducing the theory, that being located near streams, the fathers were anglers. The same might be said of the wonderful missions of Texas, that in part spoiled a fishing trip of mine by substituting themselves as features of greater interest. There was good fishing in the San Antonio River a century ago, and-note this interesting coincidence there are five missions all within fifteen miles along this little river, which I followed for miles, landing not trout but historical diversions, literally ruins of missions; and some day I am going back to Texas to fish for trout and bass.

The desert in summer is not an alluring outlook, but in winter it is far from unpleasant, yet I must confess that one desire of my trip was to see how really hot it was in the warmest part of the Southwest in the hottest time of the year. I am prepared to report on the subject, and that it was hot. One hundred and twenty degrees at Indio might be given, and it was August; but I will also say that I have been far more uncomfortable in New York, Baltimore, Washington, or Philadelphia. The heat was dry. I crossed the California desert from

Indio to Yuma, about which General Butler was sarcastic, then to El Paso and on to the Gulf at Corpus Christi; four days of heat in August, which I did not regret, as it enabled me to realize what stuff the Spanish missionary fathers were made of, when they marched up the coast from the City of Mexico over a virtual desert.

The early history of Spain in America is of dramatic interest, and cannot be read even casually, without arousing admiration. What more unpromising region than Texas in 1532 could be imagined? Filled with hostile Indians, its possibilities absolutely unknown, its coast forbidding, few would have essayed it. But this vast region, with its extremes from torrid deserts to cold northers, was crossed and recrossed by many adventurers,-Spanish and French,-who left as their only monuments some of the most interesting ruins in America.

One of the first Spanish governors of Texas, as early as 1692, was Domingo Teran de los Rios, and one of the first friars to enter Texas, Antonio Olivares, who, after a march as far as the River Frio, reported to Bishop Galmido and was sent to Mexico for aid, hoping to extend the chain of missions across the Rio Grande. Texas at that time was unknown; it had no name, and was a part of Florida in a general sense; and what bravery and tenacity of purpose was required to penetrate such a country

can readily be realized. The expedition of La Salle is famous in history. Its object was to settle the country and convert the natives, but owing to internal dissensions it was a failure, and nearly the entire party lost their lives. The French and Spanish sent out various expeditions in rapid succession, and as a result a number of forts and missions were established, the latter in some instances remaining to-day as striking ruins.

One of the interesting missions of the seventeenth century was established through the influence of Viceroy Galve, who sent Leon on an expedition into Texas with a view to the establishment of missions. The fathers were from the College of Santa Cruz of Queretaro, and were Franciscans. In 1690 they established a wooden mission near the Trinity River, and called it San Francisco de los Tejas. Padre Foncubierta was made president, and with a few men, horses, and some provisions, he began the work of converting the Tejas natives, whose name was adopted as the name for the modern State. Orders were now given Governor Teran de los Rios to make a study of the entire region, pacify the natives, and establish eight missions, for which purpose nine Franciscans were brought from Mexico. Another mission, Jesus Maria y José, was built, but the work of proselyting did not progress, because some of the priests had died.