Inez, as they descended, noted many women clad in the exaggerated hoopskirts, the curious, short, gathered bodices and the low hats of the early forties.  She thought this apparel oddly ugly, though the faces were not unattractive.  They stood in knots, these women, some of them gazing rather helplessly about.  The younger ones were surrounded by groups of admirers with whom they were chatting animatedly.  There were also many children capering in the sand and pointing out to one another the strange sights of this new place.  The men—­hundreds of them it seemed to Inez—­were busied with constructive tasks.  Already there were many temporary habitations, mostly tents of varied shapes and sizes.  Bonfires blazed here and there.  Stands of arms in ordered, regular stacks, gave the scene a martial air.  Piles of bed-clothing, household effects, agricultural implements, lay upon the sand.  A curious instrument having a large wheel on one side caught the girl’s attention.  Near it were square, shallow boxes.  A pale, broad-shouldered man with handsome regular features and brooding, poetic eyes stood beside the machine, turning the wheel now and then, and examining the boxes.  He seemed to be a leader, for many people came to ask him questions which he answered with decision and authority.

“Who is that?” asked Inez of Nathan Spear and Leidesdorff as the two approached.  “And what is the strange contrivance upon which he has his hand?”

“It is a printing press,” Spear answered.  “Yerba Buena is soon to have a paper for the chronicling of its metropolitan affairs.  The man?  Oh, that’s Sam Brannan, the elder of this band of Mormons.”

“Is it true that they have come to drive us from our homes?” asked Inez fearfully.

“Who, the Mormons?  Lord forbid,” retorted Spear.  He beckoned to the elder, who approached and was presented.  Inez, as she looked into his kindly eyes, forgot her fears.  Brannan eagerly explained his printing press.  She left him feeling that he was less enemy than friend.

CHAPTER VI

THE FIRST ELECTION

Captain John J. Vioget’s house was the busiest place in Yerba Buena, and John Henry Brown its most important personage.  The old frame dwelling built by a Swiss sailor in 1840 had become in turn a billiard hall and groggery, a sort of sailors’ lodging house and a hotel.  Now it was the scene of Yerba Buena’s first election.  About a large table sat the election inspectors guarding the ballot box, fashioned hastily from an empty jar of lemon syrup.  Robert Ridley, recently released from Sutter’s Fort, where he had been imprisoned by the Bear Flag party, was a candidate for office as alcalde.  He opposed Lieutenant Washington Bartlett, appointed to officiate pro tem by Captain Montgomery.  Brown was busy with his spirituous dispensing.  It was made a rule, upon Brannan’s advice, that none should be served until he had voted.